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daimyosprincess · 4 months

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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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campingwiththecharmings · 10 months

Text

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in October, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Sunk (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥An Unorthodox Method (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Kinktober Day 1 (Love Bites) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 4 (Sex Pollen) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Soft and Slow) (Cal Kestis x Reader) - @flightlessangelwings

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (Stripping) (Stripper!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

I just called to say I love you (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @nowritingonthewall

Adore you (Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 25 (Breeding) (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) (Part of the Gardens of Babylon Universe) - @spacecowboyhotch

Moon Knight

🔥Over the Counter (DBF!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Vivid (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Shades of the Moon (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Boundless (Witch Hunter!Marc x Witch!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Price You Gotta Pay (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥The Sweetest Sound (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Sweetest Taste (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (formal wear) (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 6 (Phone Sex) (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Kinktober Day 12 (Formal Wear) (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥What a Show (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥La Petite Mort (Ghost!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Pumpkin Porno (OnlyFans!Steven Grant) - @ominoose

In the morning light (Marc Spector x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Nature Boy (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Sleeping Dogs (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥What A Wicked Thing To Do (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥Kinktober Day 23 (Begging) (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥Couch Sex with Miguel (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming) (College!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥soft s3x and grey sweats (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @wyvernest

Ex Machina

🔥Peak-A-Boo (Ghostface!Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Perfect Little Fuck Toy (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Sucker Punch

🔥Product Demonstration (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Monster Mash (Rockstar!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

Triple Frontier

Under cotton and calicoes (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Make this feel like home (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 30 (Cunnilingus) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Just A Little Push (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Scenes From a Marriage

🔥Kinktober Day 2 (bath/shower) (Jonathan Levy x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 15 (Against a Wall & Voice Kink) (Jonathan Levy x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

The Two Faces of January

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Slow and Soft) (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥body talk (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) (part of the Oxford Comma series) - @whatthefishh

Misc.

🔥Just A Scratch (Jack Mohave x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Take Care (Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Service Fee (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥If You Wanna Be Wild (Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia) - @romanarose and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (i already recced this but there's more so 🙃)

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

#poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #santiago garcia x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #jonathan levy x reader #nathan bateman x reader #rydal keener x reader #jack mohave x reader #anselm vogelweide x reader #llewyn davis x reader #javier pena x reader #will miller x reader #blue jones x reader #cal kestis x reader #fic rec #damn i read a lot in october

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bringbackmaes14 · 2 months

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Get to Know Me Tag Game

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 9+ people to get to know better or catch up with

Tagged by @sthound

Favorite color: buttermilk yellow

Last song you listened to: Sing, Sing, Sing by Benny Goodman

Currently reading: I'm rereading Crier's War by Nina Valera

Currently watching: I'm slowly making my way through Interview with the Vampire and I'm also rewatching Steven Universe

Currently craving: Root beer barrels

Coffee or Tea: I drink more sweet tea than I do iced coffee but I drink a lot of both

An AU you're working on/thought about: I'm currently working on a multi-chapter Hannigram fic where Will and Hannibal meet as prisoners in the BSHCI rather than on a case

Tagging some people!

@sunshinerory @little-black-witch @its-the-ratdawg @westburial @valentinsylve @vivisection-gf @graciereadshannigram @the-other-will-graham @abstracteeveewrites

#tag game #mutuals #dot says

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novantinuum · 3 months

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[Updated 9/1/24]

I've written a kinda ridiculous amount of content for this fandom at this point, so this post is intended as a fun way to organize all that content on this blog. I'll update this post periodically as I share more works.

Most of my works are gen fic- with a heavy focus on character study and "bridging the gaps" of canon with lil bonus scenes of what I feel certain characters might've been up to in between episodes. However, I do on occasion enjoy exploring the Connverse relationship dynamic... and actual ratings for my stories vary.

Ratings and pairings will be listed on this masterpost, as well as any particularly vital content warnings. For more thorough content warnings, please reference the tags on the linked AO3 listings.

~~~

Multichapter AUs:

Crack The Paragon Series

Series Summary:

In the wake of an ill-fated discovery, Steven vies to pick up all the pieces. The Gems are in turmoil: Pearl can’t speak the truth, Garnet chose to separate, and Amethyst's confidence has hit rock bottom. Somehow, his mom is Pink Diamond. But what exactly does that mean for him? Why did his mom really choose to fake-shatter herself and obscure her identity? With the very foundation of his home life shifting around him, can Steven ever hope to find answers on his own? Or will his growing obsession with seeking this truth ultimately crack his world all over again? Canon divergent as of season 3 episode 20, Bismuth.

Stories:

Crack the Paragon- 70,705 words, 14/41 chapters. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops. Steven falls apart.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Everything Is Different Now- 1,014 words. Rated G.

After her unfortunate exile, Bismuth returns to her forge to work, and to reflect on her mistakes.

Seeing Pink- 2,475 words. Rated G.

Following a video call with Connie, Steven reacts to the discovery that... his eyes aren’t always human anymore.

Misalignment- 16,680 words, 20/? chapters. Rated T.

His family’s not present the third time he runs away... They never see the creature he becomes. Early corruption AU.

Content warning: Minor body horror.

Hollowed Moon- 8,046 words, 14/? chapters. Rated T.

Stevonnie doesn't crash the Star Skipper onto that jungle moon. Instead, they crash on a craggy fragment of rock suspended thousands of miles away from its associated colony, long forgotten. On that lonely hunk of rock is a domed garden. And standing in that garden, just as lifeless seeming as the rest of it, is a pink Gem.

~~~

Other AU/Non-Canon Works:

For the purpose of organization, this section contains two fics that have since had elements of it debunked by Steven Universe: Future. However, said fics were written to be "canon compliant" at the time of posting... thus, on AO3, they still are listed within my "canon compliant" series.

Shattering Atlas- 4,274 words. Rated T.

A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much. (Written about the Corrupted Steven Theory, long before SUF's airing.)

Content warning: Depression, body horror.

The Price of Freedom- 791 words. Rated T.

Even while sightless, even when she only exists as thin fingers of light rapidly spreading outwards from her gem, Rose can sense that something is deeply, dreadfully wrong. Written for Whumptober 2020, Day 1: Waking up restrained.

Bi the Way...- 2,886 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Connie has a question, and also something to say.

(Originally written to be canon compliant after the movie, debunked by Steven and Connie not officially getting together until the end of Steven Universe: Future.)

Errands- 3,034 words. Rated T.

Steven has an endless stream of items on his to-do list, so many that he often forgets to properly take care of himself in between. Sneaking off into the woods on the daily to vent out his repressed emotions is merely one of them.

(Originally written to fit between Snow Day and Little Graduation, but the back half of Steven Universe: Future strongly suggested that Steven did not visit Jasper in between the events of Little Homeschool and Fragments, thus I consider it debunked.)

~~~

Canon Compliant Works:

This part of the list contains almost everything within my "Brandishing the Star: A Crystal Gem's Guide to the Universe" fic series on AO3. Fics are listed chronologically.

Tipping Point- 1,104 words. Rated G.

Garnet helps remind Rose of what she's fighting for.

New Star- 1,321 words. Rated G.

Organic life is a fragile, fickle thing. This much is true. What's also true is how the death and resurrection of a humble lion was enough to make Rose Quartz re-conceptualize everything.

On the Origin of Hybrids- 1,684 words. Rated G.

The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while he’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night. In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

His Shield- 334 words. Rated G.

Greg attempts to comfort his son during a thunderstorm.

Donut Debrief- 1,578 words. Rated G.

And like a burst of sunshine emerging from between the murky grey clouds, the young boy swings the door open wide, face alight with a level of enthusiasm that before, she didn’t even think was humanly possible on an overcast Monday morning. Two days after their disastrous island adventure, Sadie and Steven talk about regrets, making amends, and discover something they have in common with each other.

Autumn Bliss- 546 words. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

Is there any better way to spend a crisp autumn day than playing around in piles of leaves? Written for Connvember, day 1.

Alienation- 1,151 words. Rated G.

“But... I’m human,” he whispers to himself, the words tasting more like a desperate plea for belief on his tongue. “Or at least, part human. Right?” - An awkward interaction with his dad and Connie leads Steven to realize that he's now too Gem to all the humans in his life.

Ramen Soup For the Soul- 263 words. Rated G.

Steven and Connie noisily slurp some soup at the dinner table.

Creative Outlet- 837 words. Rated G.

“Log date, 7 14 9. “Today, the hybrid creature Steven attempted to further secure my loyalty by introducing me to a concept he calls... ‘music.’

Taste of Ordinary- 12,756 words. 2/3 chapters. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

"Connie, can we talk?" When a much needed moonlight conversation with his best friend turns into an attempted (and failed) "spring break" from all his responsibilities as a half-Gem, Steven must finally come to terms with the full truth of his heritage and all six thousand years of its consequences. Takes place between The Question and Made of Honor.

Outer Strife- 4,282 words. Rated T.

Connie clenches her fists at her sides, envisioning a world where she still feels the safe, comforting weight of Rose’s sword strapped upon her back. But instead, it’s the Crystal Gems’ darkest, most forlorn hour... and she’s absolutely useless to them. Is there anything she can do to aid them in this struggle, anything at all? (Or: the beach fight in Reunited, but from Connie's POV.)

Content warning: Panic attacks

Ballroom Etiquette- 2,809 words. Rated G.

As much as it pains him to admit it amidst all the boring protocol, Pearl is absolutely right. There’s no room for imperfection at a Homeworld Ball. In which Steven is publicly introduced to the Gems of Homeworld as Pink Diamond, and he experiences the first true stage fright of his life.

Finally Free- 1,653 words. Rated G.

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Vulnerable- 730 words. Rated G.

Three words. Three little words, and the intergalactic conflict he‘d been training his whole childhood to defend against was over. But the hurt... he's not sure the hurt will ever go away.

Fifteen- 1,607 words. Rated G.

Every year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Pearl runs away.

Cycles- 1,216 words. Rated G.

Amidst their danger-fraught mission to retrieve Pyrope and Demantoid's prisms, Pearl and Steven take a much needed break.

Freedom to Dance- 382 words. Rated G.

Stevonnie celebrates the first anniversary of Era 3 with their friends and reflects on how Homeworld has already changed.

Stardust- 618 words. Rated G.

White Diamond is testing out new terms of endearment. But no matter White’s intention with this little nickname, Steven doesn’t want it.

Contact- 16,002 words. 4/4 chapters. Rated T.

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Disconnected- 993 words. Rated T.

“What’s going on—?” he croaks to absolutely no one (weakened, vulnerable, alone, pathetic—), a jolt of fresh panic surging through his entire system. He’s never seen a gem flicker before. He has no idea what this means.

The Shatter Wish- 1,045 words. Rated T.

You’re 16 years and 2 months old (give or take a few days) when you finally realize you want to die. - (Steven's POV, second person)

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Second Skin- 9,272 words. 12/12 chapters. Rated T.

Steven can’t help but dread the undefined cocktail of emotions that trigger this newest power... 12 shorts, each delving into Steven’s developing opinions and feelings about his “pink mode” in SUF.

Content warning: Light self harm, panic attacks

The Brother on the Other Side- 2,978 words. Rated T.

Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

White Noise- 1,766 words. Rated T.

In which Steven opens up to Peridot a little about his anxieties surrounding his recent “pink episodes.” Peridot thinks she can help him determine the root cause of this problem, but Steven— marooned amidst age-old insecurities and his fears of hurting those he loves— still isn’t convinced he wants anyone’s help.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Like Clockwork- 509 words. Rated T.

Connie's got mountains of studying to do. (It's not just an excuse to avoid reminders of old traumas, of course it's not! Everything's fine.)

Fight the Future- 3,604 words. Rated T.

She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and— Above the scars of Steven's wreckage, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens. (Or: what happens in the moments after Steven and Jasper's rematch.)

Oceans- 5,358 words. 6/6 chapters. Rated T.

Her fingers clutch onto the folds of his blanket with a protective fervor, but they’re still trembling. Stars, they’re trembling. Wordlessly, he understands. His are too. - A series of shorts detailing what might've happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Memoir of the Marks Unseen- 6,786 words. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

Steven’s messy self-corruption has scarred him in a manner that transcends the mere physical. Battling through suffocating waves of self-loathing and relapse, the path towards healing and acceptance is set to be his most challenging venture yet… but in a unexpected twist of fate, he eventually comes to find a cathartic solace in the tangible marks left behind.

Content warning: Depression, light body horror.

Intake- 6,427 words. 2/2 chapters. Rated T.

Steven fills out an important form.

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Fear of Falling Apart- 1,961 words. Rated T.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish to wish for conflict in a time of relative peace, but right now Connie would give anything to face an opponent she could physically fight. A battle she could win. Because the fact of the matter is, no matter how stubbornly she might try, there’s no way she can fight off Steven’s inner demons for him. - In which Connie receives a panicked midnight phone call, and rushes to Beach City with Lion to try and help.

Content warning: Light body horror.

Ticklish- 2,675 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

In which Connie’s subconscious, innocent touch helps Steven realize just how nice the sensation of gentle fingertips gliding across the surface of one’s gem can be.

No Escape From the Weather- 5,756 words. Rated T.

Amidst an unusually stormy late summer’s day, Steven finally amasses the courage to confide in his dad about one of his greatest traumas.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Just a Little Something- 1,486 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Steven surprises Connie with a handmade gift. Written for Glow Week 2024, for the prompt "Casual or Surprise."

(Our) Shadows Before the Dawn- 957 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

It's their nights that are the most difficult.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Advocate- 5,472 words. Rated T.

There’s more to this story, Lars can feel it brimming in his very bones. He can feel it squirming around in the tangled coils of his guts, a primal, virulent rot that threatens to consume him from the inside out. Something is off with Steven, something is distinctly wrong. And oh, does he hate being right. - When an unexpected visitor tumbles through the magic portal in his hair long after hours, breathless and bright pink, Lars must amass the courage to weather one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

Content warning: Depression, mentioned suicide attempt, panic attacks.

Tides of Renewal- 2,559 words. Rated T.

Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Nightlight- 1,364 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

“So, wait— what you’re saying is that you want me… to glow for you—?” - In which a drowsy, throwaway comment inspires Steven to— fueled by Connie’s implicit trust and encouragement— test the very limits of his self-restraint.

~~~

OC Works:

This subsection is the home for any fics I post in my post-canon OC-centric series, "Echoes of Chalcedony." It follows the story of a young half-Gem named Jean Maverick and their journey towards learning about the Gem side of their heritage.

First Impressions- 11,026 words. 3/4 chapters. Rated T.

A young human-Gem hybrid- a soul yet unknown to the rest of the Crystal Gems- takes their first brave steps towards greeting their heritage firsthand.

~~~

NSFW Works:

Fics in this section will be posted on my NSFW AO3 alt, Astraliies. I personally consider some of them "canon" to my own extended fic universe, but they will not be sorted as official entries in my "Brandishing the Star" series due to rating.

It Takes Two- 2,865 words. Rated M. Steven/Connie.

It’s possible. The timing lines up. What Connie fears is one hundred percent possible. The problem is, a potential pregnancy this early into their relationship was absolutely not in their plans.

Content warning: Contains frank discussion of underage sex. Connie is 17.

Love Handles- 7,178 words. Rated E. Steven/Connie.

In which a stray, innocuous comment from Connie pushes Steven to dedicate the bulk of his free time to ‘getting into shape.’ But when new stressors rise to challenge him, he begins to struggle to maintain this leaner, more muscular form for her. Not only that, but is this even the kind of body he desires for himself in the first place?

Content warning: Explicit sexual content, feeding kink

#su #steven universe #su fanfic #su fanfiction #nova rambles

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reikiajakoiranruohoja · 4 months

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This is minor, but whenever I see people complaining about the wedding episode of Steven Universe, I think of how Rebecca Sugar in the Steven Universe podcast noted something; When she was young, LTGBAQ+ content was always PG-13+. As I am the same age as they are, I can confirm this. This was not just the case with published content, it affected websites too. I don't even mean sites like Fanficnet, I mean privately managed websites had 'if you run a slash (m/m term of the day) site, please don't use my art there' disclaimers. One of the websites involved in the Ms Scribe saga was judged harshly for allowing m/m or f/f content. People, without being ordered to, tagged their m/m fics PG-13. Even decades later, Sugar STILL had to sacrifice the rest of her show to have that wedding. Please remember this, people.

#rant #fandom history

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mono-dot-jpeg · 1 year

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a child and their 9ft pet - astral express crew

summary; the adventures of a 7 year old and their large mythical beast called ossy.

genre/extra tags; bullet fic/headcanons, anxious! reader, reader is connected to most animals (but mostly their companion), reader is from the luofu, i made reader a bit know it all sassy but it's okay it's only for a little bit, reader is a smart baby

[platonic] [7 year old! reader] [gender neutral! reader]

[buy me a kofi to support!]

a/n; this is the most steven universe shit i've seen /j /nm, that's what popped into my mind upon reading this ask. nothing wrong with it. just pointing it out KSDJKSJ also this is based off lion dog from chinese mythology which is what i assume you were describing from the shih tzu and also im rather familiar with the lion dog myself as someone who used to visit temples with my family (love those statues). anyways, hope you enjoy, you didn't really specify what type of work you wanted, so i did bullet fic/hcs

the crew met you when you were trying to avoid them

you're not really normal in the luofu, you were not really an anomaly but you weren't a normal kid either.

the general knew of you due to your larger than life pet.

well... it was more of a beast of mythic lore turned real but who's arguing about definitions here?

even if your pet was in a smaller form, they were still pretty big. about 4ft. maybe twice your height almost

but jingyuan let you have your pet as long as you weren't making trouble

anyways, back to the actual subject at hand.

the astral crew needed to find you since you were supposedly the young scholar of the luofu who seemed to know everything and loved learning about everything

you were almost a historian some would even say

but you didn't really like the idea of being a historian

you just like learning about everything

but you weren't the best around people

so when you met the crew .. .

you jumped right into your pet's fur, disappearing without a trace

"HUH?!"

"how did they disappear like that?"

"did they just jump into that animal's fur?"

march tries to reach out, but the dog barks angrily and backs up

"okay okay! sorry.. puppy?"

"they're not a puppy!" your voice erupts from the soft fur of the dog (?) your head pops up startling the express crew, "they're a lion! get it right!" you scolded them.

"but they don't look like a lion."

"and you don't look like a local, so what's it to you!?" you huffed. "you don't know everything about the luofu!"

"that's why we're here. we need to know more about the history of your home." the eldest man, welt yang, spoke gently. "general jingyuan sent us."

you sigh as you cuddle into your pet's fur, still leaving the crew to wondering how you're being contained in it. "okay. what do you want to know?" and you begrudgingly answer their questions. you eventually leave your pet's fur and they keep your feeling less anxious about the strangers who imposed on your reading time.

and that's it for now.

the crew is mildly concerned and curious about you\

they spot you around different parts of the luofu as they continue their adventure.

let's say that they even had more time to get to know you better. how you're kind of a wild card for the luofu cloud knights and how you'd rather do a plain hobby than fight.

but you're perfectly capable of doing so

well, mostly your pet.

boy were they shocked when they saw your already large ish lion change and grow into a true creature of mythology, and fought the marastruck with ease.

"no chewing! marastruck isn't good for your diet!" you had scolded after the fight was over. "put them down ossy!" despite their cowering size, they almost shrink at your words and remind the crew of a sad puppy or cat. but ossy listens to you and spits out the marastruck, letting it disintegrate into the air.

yeah.. the crew was even more curious after that.

trailblazer was the only brave enough to speak what they were all thinking. what is your pet and how did you get them?

and you told them the simple story that you gained them as a family heirloom and bonded a contract with them. you even formed other contracts with other animals but not as strong as ossy's contract.

ossy was sort of a present from your family as you came from a line of mythic beast tamers and now you're here with them

and after that, you visit the express once in a while with ossy by your side to get a break from the streets of luofu

you take up your other hobbies when you're in the express, often knitting or drawing and you make drawings and little bracelets from the crew. while your drawings and knitting works arent as amazing as your knowledge, you don't mind because it just means more to learn and improve on.

you love being with the crew now and you love ossy more than ever of course!

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail welt #honkai x reader #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr march 7th #honkai star rail march 7th #caelus honkai star rail #stelle honkai star rail #caelus x reader #stelle x reader #march 7th x reader #welt yang x reader #dan heng x reader

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iolaussharpe-24 · 10 days

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Barbie in the Mojave - Chapter One

I promised. It's time to deliver. Chapter one of the Barbie/Mojave fic.

This is just chapter one, so Jack isn't quite here yet, but I hope that it will set the tone I want the story to have.

Special thank you once again to @waywardrose for helping me finally watch Mojave! If it were possible to wear out a digital file the way you could wear out a VHS tape, it would be by now. There was a day I legit watched it three times in a row. I'm not even kidding. This story would not be possible without you.

I also want to tag @my-secret-shame and @lunar-ghoulie for showing this crazy idea interest, as well as @ominoose, @reallyrallyauthor, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, and @have-you-seen-my-sanity because you guys were on the "tag regardless" list I made for people I love and thought might enjoy this.

Strangers in a Strange Land

Somewhere along the way, she wasn’t sure where, a wrong turn had been made. Barbie and Ken, for whatever reason, were still in the car. Still in the seemingly endless stretch of desert. Where was the speedboat? The rocket ship? Tandem bike, camper van, snowmobile? She wasn’t supposed to overthink it but, this was ridiculous! The only difference between now and two hours ago were minor things. The sun was hotter. The breeze was warmer and picked up sand that seemed to go straight for the dolls’ eyes. The radio only played static. Even the landscape had changed around them. Fewer sand dunes. More rocky mountains and plateaus. No one around except for the two of them in her pink corvette. There was growth around them, rather than the empty sea of sand. Plants in the ground. Birds in the sky.

They’d somehow lost the road. It had gotten covered up by the sand. She’d thought they were still on it, but this excuse for a dirt road she was driving on didn’t seem to be taking her where she needed to go.

It was maddening. Especially for Barbie. Ken was too busy looking at cloud shapes, cacti, and wiry bushes to really notice that anything was severely wrong. Granted, Ken was the only one to not notice her flat feet when literally everyone else on the beach was freaking out and screaming because of them. Even Weird Barbie thought it was strange. She said she’d never seen anything like it before. And then the way she’d reacted when Barbie had told her the rest….

Going to see her felt like a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare. Life was perfect. Everything was perfect. Her home, her friends, her body, her entire universe! Everything was just the way it was supposed to be. It always was. In all the years she’d existed, Barbie had never had so much as a knot in her hair, let alone a malfunction so bad that it warranted a visit to-

Ugh! She was starting to spiral. Her world had gotten so chaotic so fast that she was starting to go crazy, and that was only accelerating the problem. It was getting harder to keep her smile on her face. She could feel it trying to fall every time she stopped thinking about it. Smiling was always easier than breathing to her. To all the Barbies! …. And now her body doesn’t want to breathe either because she thought about it!

“Look Barbie! A rabbit!” Ken called excitedly, pointing out from the backseat of the car to a brown hare hopping a few yards away.

Wanting to distract herself from the chaos slowly overtaking her existence and threatening to completely envelope her body as well, Barbie looked out at the animal. She watched it move. It was… odd. To say the least. Alien, to be completely honest. In Barbieland, animals didn’t really move much. They counted as accessories. Not dolls. They didn’t have the joints to move the way that Barbies and Kens and Skippers and everyone else did.

But this hare was moving.

Its legs were pumping, carrying it along the sand at a fast pace. Barbie slowed down the car, her eyes glued to it. It was strangely majestic. And she came from a world where rainbows were more common than sunlight, mermaids appeared out of the water to say hi wherever they wanted, and glittery dresses could transform into brilliant fairy wings with a twirl. Her basis of comparison was odd, but that little creature was so-

Before Barbie could even work out her own thoughts, she hit a bump in the road. A very big bump. The kind that didn’t just cause the two passengers to jump out of their seats. The kind that made Ken fly out of the vehicle because he didn’t have his seatbelt on, and flipped the pink corvette onto its side, taking it’s still strapped in pink clad plastic passenger for a ride that she hadn’t been expecting when she asked to be sent to the real world. It wasn’t like when Ken startled her earlier in the day. The car had flipped yes, but it went through the air and landed back on its tires, no harm done. This wasn’t that. This was something else. Something that she’d never felt before.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the world turned sideways around her. Her blonde braid lifted off her shoulder and the seatbelt across her lap seemed to tighten, digging into her thighs. She screamed in a way she never had before. She’d felt fear, yes, but not like this. She didn’t think that any of the Barbies or the Kens had ever felt fear like this. It was like her entire body screaming right alongside her. Every inch, every joint, and sculpted line in her body tensed up and clenched tighter than Boxer Barbie’s fists.

The car landed on its side and skidded across the sand, Barbie’s head snapped back from the force of it, the seat digging into her back and pressing into something that wasn’t supposed to bend the way it was being forced to. It didn’t feel good. At all. This was the furthest thing from good she’d ever felt. Saying that it felt bad didn’t even do the feeling justice. It was worse than when she fell off her roof. And that had been the worst until this.

Distantly, she could hear Ken’s voice. He sounded like he was in pain too. Like he was just as scared as she was. He was calling out her name.

For a moment, things went black. Completely black. It lasted less than a second. One singular insignificant second in which absolutely nothing existed. No thoughts. No feelings. No sight or sound. Just darkness and perfect silence. It was so peaceful. Like everything was finally right in the world and she didn’t have to worry about flat feet or cellulite or a rip in the fabric of reality. It felt like that last blissful moment of sleep before getting up in the morning. Like she’d open her eyes and stare through the open roof of her dreamhouse at the beautiful blue sky above. She’d hear the voice singing her through her newest best day ever. And everything that happened since the dance party would only be as real as a bad dream, and forgotten just as quickly.

But that’s not what greeted her when she finally did.

She opened her eyes to an endless desert landscape. The pink corvette was overturned, crumpled on one side, and partially buried a few feet away. At some point, the seat belt must have snapped, because she wasn’t in the car anymore. She was laying on her stomach, her hair a mess around her face, cheek in the dirt.

She tried to sit up, but her body didn’t want to do anything. Her limbs throbbed and she felt her joints pop in an unnatural way as she lifted herself onto her knees. …. She was in pain. The most pain she’d ever felt in all of her years. It was awful.

She’d never feel something like this in Barbieland. Never.

Does that mean I made it to the Real World?

“Barbie! Are you okay?” Ken called as he rushed to her side. Looking up, she saw him limping towards her, a worried expression on his face. She wasn’t really sure how she was, but she didn’t want to scare him. She didn’t want to scare herself either. Looking at the positives, she could move. Nothing felt broken or bent out of shape. She wasn’t dead and/or thinking about being… well, she kind of was, but only as ‘Thank goodness I’m not dead!’ kind of thing. Not an ‘Oh no, I just died!’ kind of thing.

She smiled her perfect smile, though it didn’t feel right in the moment, and slowly rose to her feet. “I’m okay, Ken. Really. I’m fine.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

She looked down at them and saw that he was right. Her hands were shaking. Badly. She’d never seen anything like that before. Anywhere. On anyone. She’d read one of Dr. Barbie’s books once… but there was nothing about this kind of thing in there either. The book was mostly pictures of x-rays and instructions on how to mold a cast out of Barbie Dough.

“I’m fine,” she lied again, feeling it stick in her throat this time. “I’m perfectly fine. Everything is fine.”

Ken nodded and looked around. “That was… wow. I’ve never seen a car do that before. Where are we? Where’s the speedboat?”

“Uh… I think we’re almost there. We have to be, right? Weird Barbie didn’t give me any kind of timeframe for anything. Or specific instructions. She just said that we’d go from a sports car to a speedboat, to a rocket ship, to a tandem bike, to a camper van, to a snowmobile, to roller blades and go to the state of Los Angeles in the country of California. She said not to think about it too much.”

“I thought there was supposed to be some kind of portal at some point?”

“Apparently not.”

“…. Oh.”

Barbie looked at the wrecked car and then out into the desert again. She was starting to feel really hot. And something told her that she wasn’t the only one. Ken had already opened his shirt like he would on the beach. “I know you brought your roller blades, but I need to ask, did you bring any changes of clothes? Something that maybe won’t be so… inappropriate?” she asked, picking at the sleeve of her own pink top.

Ken nodded. “I might have brought a thing or too.”

“Good. We should change and then get going. Can’t be that much farther to the speedboat, right?”

Ken nodded excitedly then ran over to the car where it laid on its side. He popped open the trunk and all their things spilled onto the ground. The shoes, clothes, skates, hair ties, jewelry, and sunglasses.

Barbie put her hands on her hips, but didn’t say anything. Now wasn’t the time to complain. They were stuck with each other for the foreseeable future, lost and alone, with absolutely no idea what they were going to do or how. Weird Barbie just said that she would ‘know’ when she found the little girl playing with her. But she didn’t know how to get to the point that would allow her to know! She wasn’t Explorer Barbie or Rock Climber Barbie, or Girl Scouts of America Barbie. She was just Barbie. Stereotypical Barbie. She didn’t have anything special about her other than the name ‘Barbie’.

Why was her breath coming in so fast? Why was there pressure building in her chest and head?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And another. And another. It was working. The pressure was going away. Slowly, but surely. She smiled again and opened her eyes. She looked through the clothes and found a resort outfit she had packed just in case she had to stay somewhere before going home. Specifically, the BarbieStyle Resort-Wear outfit. Tan high waisted wide leg pants, a salmon pink and white crop top with a v neck and puffy half sleeves, cat eye sunglasses, dangly gold earrings, black heels, and a tan clutch purse. She laid everything out in front of her and waited….

And waited….

Weird. In the Dreamhouse, she just had to stand in front of her closet and her clothes would change. Actually, it was the same throughout Barbieland; in the boutiques and any general area with a mirror or a door. She just needed a place to stop and choose an outfit to wear and then she’d be wearing it. With all the places a Barbie could go and all the things she could do, quick changes were a necessity.

And yet… her clothes weren’t doing anything now.

Confused, she started to unbutton her top to put the clothes on manually. Then she paused. Ken was right next to her, having the same issue with his pale pink shorts, jacket, mesh shirt, white sandals, and sunglasses. Not wanting to make him feel the same way, she gathered up her things and walked around to the other side of the car, using it as a wall to separate the two of them. Then, she went back to taking off her clothes. The feeling was strange, and the action was one that she wasn’t used to doing, but it was conceptually simple enough. Pull over head and take arms out. Easy.

At least, it sounded easy. Her clothes were tight and didn’t want to come off. For a moment, she got stuck. She got the fabric over her head, but her arms were outstretched and trapped. Eventually, she got it worked out, but it did take her a few minutes to do it.

Once dressed, Barbie realized two things:

First, they didn’t have a way to carry their belongings now that the car was ruined. She didn’t think to bring any actual luggage. All her things fit in the trunk with room to spare and Ken wasn’t supposed to come with her.

Second, now that she wasn’t permanently on her toes, high heels didn’t feel as natural or comfortable as they used to. They hurt her feet and made it hard to walk for long periods of time. And, though she’d never noticed before, heels and the desert didn’t actually mix very well. The thin points sank in the loose dirt and the slick soles made the stones she stepped on roll beneath her, very nearly making her trip over and over again.

It couldn’t be that far, could it?

It couldn’t be that far….

#barbie 2023 #mojave 2015 #crossover fic #margot robie barbie #ryan gosling ken #barbie and ken #stereotypical barbie #beach ken #its finally here #i didn't let the fic die #didn't think it would drop today though #oh well 🤷‍♀️#cross posted on wattpad

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