#daddy not here but I’m still tagging him anyway

[celestialcreativity]

Mama Tanjiro and her cute four kids in the shopping district 🥰

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 8

it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily

Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.

The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 

Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 

The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 

But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 

Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 

I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 

How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?

A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.

Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 

“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”

People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 

“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 

“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 

“No.”

“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”

Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 

Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 

Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 

Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 

But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 

Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 

Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 

“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 

“Um… Spencer?”

“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”

He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”

The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 

“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 

When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 

You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”

“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”

You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”

Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 

“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”

You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 

He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 

Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 

“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 

“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?

“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”

Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 

“I forgot. I thought… he said…”

A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 

“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”

And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 

“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”

“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”

His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 

“You didn’t see my note?”

The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 

“You left a note?”

Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 

It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 

A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 

“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 

Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 

He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”

You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 

“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”

Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 

“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”

“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 

He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 

Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 

There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 

Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 

And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 

“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”

Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.

Now he remembers. 

Long night, huh? I remember those days. 

It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 

Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 

“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 

You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”

If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”

He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 

“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”

You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 

“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 

You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 

“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 

The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.

“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 

You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 

“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”

Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 

“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”

“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”

Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 

“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”

“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”

“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”

Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 

“Like… one at a time? Or…”

He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.

“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 

There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 

“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”

“Spencer—”

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”

“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”

For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 

But that’s not the topic at hand. 

“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”

You swallow. 

“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

About what?

He says your name. No response. 

“Can you look at me, please?”

It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 

“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 

Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”

Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”

You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 

“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”

“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”

He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”

Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?

A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 

“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”

Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 

He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 

“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 

“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”

So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 

You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 

Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 

He can’t not worry. 

And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 

-

part nine

[mrderondncefloor]

“anything? that right?”

old!logan howlett x f!reader

summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him

wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)

authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea

warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.

your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.

logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.

“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.

“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.

needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again. 

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in. 

And he was late. 

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance. 

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.” 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.” 

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.” 

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?” 

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.” 

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.” 

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.” 

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?” 

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.” 

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?” 

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?” 

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.” 

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.” 

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?” 

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.” 

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.” 

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.” 

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too. 

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving. 

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.” 

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.” 

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—” 

Mihawk gave you a look. 

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.” 

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.” 

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.” 

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.” 

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now. 

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.” 

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off. 

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there. 

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with. 

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words. 

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty.  Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.” 

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed. 

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.” 

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat. 

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.” 

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.” 

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.” 

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously. 

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?” 

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match. 

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.” 

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.” 

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—” 

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?” 

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt. 

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you. 

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again. 

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle. 

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.” 

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade. 

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight. 

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again. 

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat. 

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed. 

“If you don’t mind, lass.” 

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door. 

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—” 

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—” 

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him. 

“I need another drink.” 

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?” 

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing. 

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.” 

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?” 

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.” 

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.” 

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.” 

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number. 

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?” 

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.” 

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.” 

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face. 

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?” 

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.” 

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?” 

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!” 

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?” 

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.” 

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!” 

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.” 

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!” 

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before. 

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?” 

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.” 

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?” 

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.” 

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!” 

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?” 

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?” 

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted. 

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—” 

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear. 

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.” 

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter. 

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day. 

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find. 

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room. 

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town. 

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.” 

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…” 

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.” 

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.” 

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.” 

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?” 

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.” 

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left. 

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush. 

You needed to go home. 

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back. 

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already. 

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night. 

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight. 

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths. 

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore. 

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world. 

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked. 

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. 

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.” 

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true. 

“We don’t need your protection.” 

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.” 

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.” 

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?” 

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.” 

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.” 

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?” 

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.” 

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.” 

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier. 

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder. 

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.” 

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.” 

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped. 

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks. 

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!” 

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity. 

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship. 

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed. 

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated. 

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade. 

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left. 

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.” 

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.” 

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!” 

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop. 

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?” 

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.” 

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.” 

You eyed him. “…Anything.” 

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.” 

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.” 

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle. 

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier. 

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up. 

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered. 

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with. 

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh. 

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.” 

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.” 

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?” 

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders? 

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated. 

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.  

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?” 

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.” 

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch. 

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together. 

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic. 

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?” 

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.” 

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly. 

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?” 

 Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out. 

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.” 

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.” 

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves. 

“You’re not upset by that?” 

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.” 

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?” 

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?” 

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged. 

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.” 

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.” 

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.” 

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.” 

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh. 

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.” 

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.” 

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.” 

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax. 

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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© halfvalid 2023

[myfictionaldreams]

I Don’t Care // Mafia!Stuck x fem!reader

Summary: Request on AO3: 'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, fluff/comfort, period sex, mentions of blood, description of cramps, daddy kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, intense, cockwarming, overprotective, possessive behaviour, size different, praise kink

Words: 5.7k

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Mother nature had decided to curse your life today. Every 28 days without fail, your period would be an inconvenience but never to this extent, praying to whatever god was listening to save you from the excruciating waves of pain ripping through your uterus. Not only this, but it was affecting your entire body, feeling drained with fatigue, nauseous and a migraine slowly creeping through your temple.

You were mentally officially done with the day, and thankfully the anticipated meeting with Johann Schmidt was finished and successfully had gone according to plan, which meant no murders and happy handshakes to new beginnings. There were a few relaxed moments after waving them off and you were rushing to the toilet, needing to just sit and mentally process how you were going to survive the rest of the day.

Even though everyone was preparing to leave, there was still food shopping that needed to be completed which was a chore in of itself. Having to buy food for two grown men that ate triple the amount of any normal person was energy draining but now only this, in the evening, to celebrate the new partnership, Steve was taking the two groups to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Groaning, you doubled over in pain as you sat on the toilet, wishing to stay here instead or maybe, cuddled up on the sofa with Bucky and Steve but no, life wasn’t this simple, you’d need to suck it up and get on with the day and hoped it passed by quickly and at least the meeting was over.

Deciding to face the music, you finished using the bathroom, splashing some cool water on your face before exiting, only to come face to face with Bucky who was leaning against the wall, staring at the watch on his wrist.

“Good timing mama, another 30 seconds and I would have been coming in there. Didn’t think it was appropriate to be rushing into the female toilets but you’ve been a while”. Smiling softly at him, you walked over, watching as he extended his arms to pull your body against his chest.

“Overprotective Oaf, can’t a girl go to the toilet anymore without being timed”, you sarcastically mumbled into his shirt, taking a deep breath of his expensive cologne, and leaning into his unnaturally warm body.

“Wow oaf is a new one, thanks Doll”, he retorted but could feel his smile as he rested his mouth against the top of your head, his arms circling your shoulders. “I don’t usually time you in the toilet either, just worried was all, no offence but you’re looking a little peaky today”.

You could have stayed in that one spot all day, his gigantic body just completely dwarfing yours, like a boyfriend cocoon. This was until another cramp ripped through your abdomen, causing you to tense and scrunch your face to stop from audibly shouting. Bucky felt the change, his arms squeezing you tighter before easing himself back so he was able to cup your face, thumb stroking against your cheek.

“That bad, huh?”

“A little yeah. It’s fine, I’m due some pain relief now anyway, I’ll be ok”, it was a lie of course but you didn’t want to worry him or Steve, if it wasn’t obvious, they could be a little dramatic when it came to your welfare. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it was only food shopping and a meal then tomorrow, you could all stay in bed if that was what you wanted.

“You’re a bad liar”, he remarked, tilting your face up, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that had you momentarily forgetting about the pain, until a burning hot pain sparked through your head. It almost took your breath away more than the kiss, so much so you had to pull back and take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you could do this.

“Come on Buckaroo, let’s get going”. Bucky didn’t say another word but kept his cool metal hand around yours, leading back to the car where Steve was waiting in the back. Bucky held the door open for you and then climbed into the passenger seat, next to Sam who was driving.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked you softly as you fastened your seat belt, his hand resting against your thigh which was only an invitation for you to cuddle into his muscular arm, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah”, you responded softly, trying to keep your composure and not flinch as dizziness rocked your body as the car began to drive.

Bucky shifted in his seat before turning, offering you a bottle of water and some pain relief. Offering your thanks, you swallowed the pills with half of the bottle of water, hoping it would also settle the nauseous sensation in your stomach. Leaning back into Steve’s arm, he turned to kiss your temple.

“Where to Boss?” Sam asked Steve.

“Home please, Wilson”.

“Wait no, Sam could you please take us to the store, we still need to go shopping, remember?”

Your eyes flicked between Steve and Sam as the latter looked back at Steve in the rear-view mirror, waiting for confirmation. “Baby, let’s just go home, you need to get some rest”.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to play it off, “I’m fine, and we need to go today we have absolutely nothing in the cupboard, it won’t take us long”. The last part of your sentence was more a hope for you and even though you’d love nothing more than to go home if you didn’t go food shopping today then you’d be forced to go tomorrow and there was no way you were leaving the house tomorrow.

Steve didn’t say anything, only nodded at Sam for him to continue to the shop, the hand against your thigh squeezed but you weren’t paying attention, closing your eyes to stop the nauseous sensation.

It didn’t take long to get to the store and once inside, you gave Bucky the duty of drink refills and Steve fresh fruit and vegetables whilst you’d go to the tin aisle and load up the shopping cart there.

Whilst walking up the second aisle, one of the worst cramps you’d ever experienced destroyed your insides. You could feel the contraction of your uterus, the pain so much that you had to double over and lean against the shelves, biting your lower lip to refrain from moaning in pain, aware that there were still other people shopping and didn’t want too many odd looks.

Trying to concentrate on your breathing, you’d squeezed your eyes so tight that now you were beginning to feel even dizzier, it was an endless cycle of pain.

A warm hand was suddenly easing under your head and shoulder, helping to turn your body until it was leaning into the much bigger and more comforting body of Bucky. You could smell his aftershave before he was even touching you. “Shh that’s it, lean into my body, I’ve got you. Keep taking those deep breaths, the pain will fade”. His words were softly whispered into your ear as he held his metal hand against the back of your head and the other massaged your lower back.

Even though you were hoping to keep up the strong exterior and play off that your period cramps were not as bad as they were, you could not deny the way Bucky and Steve treated you had the butterflies flying in your stomach.

Bucky was right, the pain did begin to fade to a dull ache that left you feeling uncomfortable but able to stand back up and resume shopping. “Sor-” you began but your boyfriend was quick to cut off your words.

“Don’t apologise, never apologise to me”, his sincerity was pulling at your heartstrings, and unsure why tears were suddenly springing to your eyes so you quickly looked to the floor to hide them.

“I hate being on my period, messing with my emotions, do you have to be so nice?” you tried to joke, causing Bucky to chuckle softly and kiss your temple once more, always so affectionate.

Another hand joined your spine, rubbing up and down as Steve stepped behind you, his breath fanning across your cheek as he gave you a quick peck before his spare hand lifted to capture the tears that were dripping down your cheeks.

“Go back to the car baby girl, we’ll finish this” Steve encouraged, keeping his voice low. With your position between the two mafia members, you’d momentarily forgotten that you were in the middle of a store, and not in a little private bubble but with the size of their bodies, you basically were.

Hastily wiping away the remaining tears, you tried to regain some energy, “no it’s ok, I can carry on and neither of you knows what we need to buy anyway”.

 Steve smirked down at you, “I’m sure we can manage and if we forget anything major, we’ll just send Sam to come and get it for us”.

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! Now please go back to the car”, Bucky gave you a little nudge in the direction of the exit. You laughed at them both, they always managed to make you smile, even if it was for a brief second.

“Everything ok, boss lady?” Sam asked nicely as you climbed into the car as he sat waiting in it.

You were exhausted, lying across the back of the seats, automatically pulling your knees up to your chest like a ball, finding the position that helped most with the cramps, facing the back seat so Sam couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, just need a little break”.

It seemed your ordeal wasn’t over just yet as the next wave of cramps continued, and now in the comfort of the car, even with Sam, you couldn’t hold back gasps of agony.

Unaware of how much time had passed but soon the car was being filled with shopping bags and Steve was helping you to sit up, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again. “Let’s get you home”, he nodded to Sam as you fell back into the same position as before, but instead of resting his hand on your thigh, he lifted your top, unbuttoning your jeans to give him access to your abdomen.

Steve and Bucky, as well as being able to eat the same amount as a small village, ran at unnatural temperatures so as his warm fingers began to massage to pained area, you couldn't help but release a relieved groan.

As you returned home, you felt completely drained, limping to the toilet to try and feel refreshed as the boys emptied the car of the groceries which you were thankful for, even going as far as to empty the bags.

It was Steve’s turn to stand guard outside the toilet but unlike Bucky, he didn’t wait for you to be in there for a specific amount of time before knocking. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you want to see this right now”, you shouted softly to him, cleaning yourself up quickly before flushing the toilet. After washing your hands and splashing some more cool water onto your face, you exited the toilet to find him smiling kindly down at you, waiting patiently.

“You know I don’t care about those kinds of things”, he reminded you, holding out a hand for you to hold.

You accepted it, loving the feeling of his rough large fingers compared to yours as he slowly pulled you in the direction of the couch in the living room. “Yes I know that but it’s particularly bad today” you referred to your heavy flow. Neither Steve nor Bucky was at all phased by your period, reminding you on countless occasions that they are surrounded by blood a lot for their job and this was different, it was you, it was natural and all they wanted to do was help you.

“Again, I don’t care, honey”, he gently eased the two of you down, making sure that your legs were thrown over his two muscular thighs, head on his shoulder so that he could rest his cheek against you, his facial hair tickling your forehead slightly. Not that you cared as his arms encircled you, one supporting around your back, keeping your body against his, and the other rested on your abdomen again, continuing with the massaging.

Groaning with relief, your face nuzzled into him closer, hand gripping his crisp white shirt, creasing it slightly but neither of you cared. “That feels so good”, you praised him.

“Close your eyes, get some rest”.

This was exactly what you then proceeded to do. Only taking a matter of seconds of being in his heated embrace to fall into a deep sleep. A few hours later you naturally awoke, finding Steve with his eyes closed, for a second you’d suspected he had also fallen asleep but his fingers were still massaging away at your abdomen, even after all this time, surprised that he hadn’t got a hand cramp yet.

Kissing his chin to show that you were awake, your fingers gripped around the arm supporting your body, lifting to look at the time on his watch, seeing that it was nearly the evening.

Pushing on his arm, you attempted to stand but were stopped by his grip tightening, keeping you in his lap. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get changed, we’re leaving soon”, your voice cracked from having just woken up, fingers brushing your eyes to wipe some of the tiredness away.

“That’s not happening anymore”, he casually remarked, undoing his top button.

“What do you mean it’s not happening? It needs to happen, Johann made it very clear earlier that this needed to happen.”

Steve casually shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll deal with it, now relax, I was comfortable”.

You were dumbfounded by his confidence, your anxiety couldn’t cope when he was like this, it was much easier to just go for this meal than to try and sweet talk Johann around again. Trying and failing again to stand, you released a heavy sigh. “Steve please, I’ll be fine, it won’t take us long”.

It was at this time that Bucky returned, a towel around his neck and nothing on but his sneakers and a pair of training shorts, having come from the gym in the basement. You couldn’t help but look over his toned abs, littered with contrasting scars from his time in the Rogers mafia. “How are you feeling now?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“Better thank you. Can you tell him that we need to start getting ready soon? He’s come up with the disastrous plan to cancel dinner with Johann”.

Bucky sat back casually, the muscles in his abs flexing slightly, once again drawing your attention before you looked back into his smug blue eyes. “Firstly, I can’t tell the boss to do anything and you know that and secondly, I’ve already sent the message to cancel, so no changing it now”.

You moved around on Steve’s lap so that you could properly face the blonde who was watching you with casual arrogance knowing he had got his way or no way at all. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why I did that”, his voice remained calm as his eyes searched your face so you sat further back onto his knees and that’s when you felt it, something hadn’t felt right since waking up and this was it.

Glancing down, you noticed a dark patch on his navy dress trousers from where you’d been sitting. In your rush to leave the bathroom, you must have placed the pad in at the wrong angle on your underwear, and now you’d leaked onto your boyfriend's lap. Steve looked down, his face remaining the same, calm and confident.

“It’s ok”, his hands lifted to stroke your upper arms but you brushed them off. Your entire body seemed to heat up as the embarrassment set in.

“I’m..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s fine”, his casualness about the situation didn’t help your panic as you pushed off of his chest to stand, knees wobbling slightly as the inkling of another wave of cramps threatened to start from the sudden movement.

“Be careful mama, it’s ok-”, Bucky tried to reach for you now but you were so embarrassed, needing to get away from both of them for a minute, racing up the stairs as your heart pounding in your chest. Finally getting to the master bedroom, you were able to lock yourself in the ensuite toilet, taking off your now blood-stained jeans and underwear, cursing again at mother nature for letting her add to the list of bad things that had happened that day.

Now you were in the bathroom, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You didn’t have a change of clothes and you couldn’t go back out there because, by the sounds of it, both men had followed you up the stairs and probably getting changed. Your cheeks burst with heat at the thought of Steve’s ruined trousers.

Maybe you could take a bath or a shower, which sometimes helped with the pain but you weren’t able to decide as your uterus contracted with another cramp and it was probably the worst one yet. A deep groan slipped from your lips as you doubled over, leaning your forehead against the countertop, knees straining to keep you from collapsing to the floor and crawling into a ball.

The door handle turned as you made the pained noise, but seeing as you had locked the door, it didn’t open and therefore was swiftly followed by a knock. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking it down.”

Rolling your eyes at the possessive tone in Steve’s voice, you hobbled over to the bathroom door, clicked the lock and walked back to face your shame, standing in nothing but your shirt and bra.

What you hadn’t anticipated was Steve walking over the threshold and within one step was cupping your jaw, tilting your head back and kissing you fiercely enough that it took your breath away. It took a moment of shock to wear off before your hands gripped onto his wrists, holding him close, kissing him back with as much passion. Even trying to reach onto your tip toes to get closer.

Steve was quick to discard your shirt and bra, so fast you hadn’t even realised he was undoing the buttons until the cool air coated your skin. Pulling back from the kiss as his tongue teased, you pushed against his chest, “Steve wait-”

The mafia boss did not wait. No, he had his own idea in mind as his mouth was back onto yours, body pushing back until your lower back found the cool countertop behind. In another second, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you until your bare arse was sitting on the side.

This truly snapped you out of the lust-filled trance he had captured you within. Pushing once more against his chest, your face dropped down so he couldn’t distract you with his devilish tongue. “Steve stop, I’m not wearing any underwear, I need to put a pad on or something.”

It wasn’t Steve who responded but Bucky who was watching at the door, now in a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt, casually leaning against the door frame. He was chuckling as he admired your body. “When are you going to get it Doll, we really and I mean, REALLY, don’t care about that stuff”.

Steve moved his seduction tour to your neck, leaving open-mouth kisses sending shivers through your spine as he inched his way up to the shell of your ear. “What am I going to have to do to make you understand that I don’t care about a little bit of blood, my love”.

You glanced down at the patch on his trousers, biting your lip before reminding him, “but I’ve ruined your trousers, and you’ve had to cancel the dinner because of me”.

Steve finally leaned back, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your thighs as his own blue eyes flicked between yours. “I’ve cancelled the dinner today because you’re in pain and I’m not going to force you to dress up in clothes that won’t make you feel comfortable or leave the comfort of your own home just for a fucking meal with Johann Schmidt. My trousers, they’re replaceable, they don’t mean shit to me, but you know what does? You. So please explain to me what I need to do for you to get into that beautiful brain of yours, what I can do to show that I really couldn’t give a shit about a little bit of blood”.

He always knew the right things to say, enough that you had to once again hide your face to hide the tears.

Your boyfriend had other ideas however as his hand teased up the sensitive part of your inner thighs. You knew his intended destination and reached out quickly to grip his wrist, stopping him, looking up with wide eyes, his words already forgotten about.

“Steve wait, I’m bleeding-”

He tilted his head in a knowing look, pushing easily against your grip until his fingers delved into your folds, brushing against your clit. You gasped, bodily jolting slightly. Steve lifted his other hand, wrapping it around your throat, pushing back until your body rested against the wall-length mirror.

“What did I say? I don’t care about a little bit of blood, now. Open”.

His tone went straight to your core, he rarely ordered things from you as your submissive tendencies meant you were rushing to do them anyway but with your anxiety holding you back, he decided to use his authority which instantly sent you into a horny mess.

“Yes sir”, you responded a moment later, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that he undoubtedly felt beneath his fingertips at your throat, as you opened your legs wider to him, giving him better access.

“Good girl”, the praise was like music to your ears as you were forced to watch his face as his fingers began slipping further down until at your entrance, not wasting any time to slip two fingers in. You moaned loudly, swapping to hold onto the wrist that was holding your neck, not choking, just making sure you didn’t look away from him. His movements were slow, inching in and out, making sure not to hurt you.

You had to admit, that it felt odd, knowing that the wetness that could be felt wasn’t your normal juices but in face period blood and with the cramping, it wasn’t the most comfortable but as his fingers began to curl, increasing your pleasure, the pain reduced.

“Listen to me closely”, he continued. “You are going to watch as I fuck you with my fingers until you’re cumming. Then as I’m fucking you, Bucky over there is going to heat the shower and all three of us are getting in and he can then decide what he’d like to do with you there, do you understand?”

Your cunt was clenching violently around his fingers at his demands, of which every single one you wanted, too lost in the thought of his fingers curling into that beautiful spot within. “Yes sir!”

“That’s my girl”, he praised with a small smile now etched on his face as his thumb began stroking gently against your eagerly awaiting clit. There was now only a jumble of moans and mewls leaving your mouth now as your hips began rolling against his hand, chasing your high. As stated before, with each passing minute, as the pleasure increased, all the cramping began to cease until it was a recent memory.

“Open a little wider baby,” he encouraged and your legs spread automatically giving him more room to add a third finger. Your eyes dropped to his wrist, the sight scaring you for a minute as a dribble of blood was nearly the white sleeve of his shirt but with a quick squeeze to your throat, you glanced up as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, riding his hand harder, gripping his wrist tighter, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. The addition of his third finger made your walls stretch to their limit, feeling full of his long, thick fingers and his thumb pressed harder.

You were about to open your mouth and ask if you could cum but Steve could already feel the tightening grip of your cunt, “cum for me, that’s it, good girl”.

Steve’s praises were always the most perfect sounding words from his gruff voice and your orgasm was suddenly pulsing through your entire body. If it wasn’t for his grip around your throat, you were sure you’d fall into his chest but he held you there firmly, not restricting your airways but just having control over your body.

He didn’t waste a second, using his blood-soaked hands to undo his belt and zipper, easing his cock out and then dragging your hips towards the edge of the countertop. Lifting your legs to rest on his hips, Steve’s cock pulsed as he eased it between your slit, breathing your entrance slowly.

“Please, please daddy!” you gasped out, losing all sense of control, needing to feel him now. Steve chuckled at the nickname, knowing your horniness was bringing out your submissiveness. To treat you well, he pushed his cock into your cunt in one quick thrust, causing your body to jolt to the side.

He held that position and in the background, you could just make out the sound of the shower being turned on by Bucky. Not that you were focused on that right now as Steve adjusted his position. With his red-stained hand, he gripped your hip in place whilst the other hand still held onto your throat, his mouth dipping so he could wrap his lips around your left nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, biting on it gently before releasing.

At the same time, he began to ease his cock out of you, nice and slowly so that your walls dragged around him before slapping back in again. Steve teased both of your nipples, licking around the areola before sucking them back into his mouth.

Your entire body was alight with warmth and pleasure, every thrust was powerful and breathtaking and his wicked tongue had you almost seeing stars with how hard it was making your cunt clench.

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Steve complimented as he swapped breasts, the nipples now being slightly puffy from being sucked on. “Seeing you this desperate, I don’t think I’m going to last very long”, he admitted, but you didn’t care, you were already sensing the change in your body as the tautness in your abdomen increased.

Steve did too and released your nipple, only to kiss you fiercely, it was mostly tongue and teeth, trying to dominate your mouth leaving you even more breathless and dizzy. Just as you were able to orgasm, your hand gripped around the bigger hand holding your neck, squeezing it slightly and he understood the message.

His fingers gripped ever so slightly harder, making it a little bit more difficult to breathe, just as you came hard. Your walls clamped down around his cock so strongly that he too came, surprising himself as he shouted your name, hunching over your body and releasing your throat just as the waves began to calm down. You sucked in the air greedily, body almost completely limp from being fucked so hard and being in the same position for so long.

Your eyes felt heavy as Steve kissed along your throat where his fingers had been, softly caressing the area, distracting you from his cock slipping out of your sensitive entrance. Risking a glance down, it was a mess, where his hands had been were red hand prints and his clothes were ruined but at that moment, you couldn’t care at all.

Steve stood back, catching your eye, “I love you”, he whispered, sweetly kissing your lips delicately, almost like he was scared to hurt you even though he’d just been fucking the life out of you.

“I love you too” you responded softly, tiredness evident in your tone.

Steve finally moved away, unbuttoning his ruined shirt which allowed Bucky to take his place, now standing completely naked, his cock proudly hard between his legs. Gently, he lifted both of your legs around his waist, locking your ankles before moving your arms around his neck, his metal arm easing beneath your arse and his flesh arm around your back as he lifted you.

“Feel like another round?” Bucky’s jokingly asked with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and you mewled in response, trying to slip further down his body so that his tip bumped into your cunt. “Hold on, mama”, and with that, he gently eased his veined cock into your warm pussy, before walking into the warm shower that had you melting into his embrace.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, he didn’t thrust, knowing that’s not what you needed right now, just letting you feel full up at the warmth from the water to ease your used muscles, it was perfect.

“Want you”, your voice oozed desperation as you lazily kissed up his neck, clenching slightly around his member as your arousal began to peak, needing to feel the drag of his cock..

“I want you to but I think someone tired you out”. You groaned, frowning at his words but putting no effort into moving, feeling too lazy and fucked out of your mind so decided on a different tactic.

“But I’d feel so much better if you fucked me too”.

Bucky laughed as Steve joined the two of you in the shower, luckily it was purposefully built so that the overhead shower covered all three of you.

“Are you trying to manipulate me into fucking you, sweet mama?” Bucky asked against your shoulder.

Smiling against his skin, you tried to act nonchalant, “no I’d never do that”.

As you finished your sentence, your back eased against the shower wall as Bucky held you there, readjusting his arms slightly to grip your hips, his face now hovering over yours, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you would never do that”, he sarcastically responded as he began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock very slowly in and out of you.

Once again, these men knew you so well, thankful for the slow speed as your cunt constricted harshly around him with how sensitive it was. It felt so good as he took his time, holding you close, every part of your body touching his as Steve washed behind him, smiling at the sound of your desperate noises.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky asked, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Yes sir, you feel so good”.

Bucky kept up those long slow paces for a while, Steve even began to grow hard again and found himself wanking off watching the two of you. Every thrust of Bucky’s cock had a pathetic mewl or moan escaping you, it was perfect as you held desperately to his shoulders, lazily kissing him until the sensation changed.

“I need to cum sir” you quickly breathed out but Bucky had other plans.

“Not just yet mama, you’ve got to hold it for me”. Your eyes filled with panic, looking at his as your brow furrowed, mouth gaping open.

“I- I can’t”.

“Yes you can, you’re a good girl and only good girls cum when they’re supposed to, just a little bit longer”. You could have cried as you gripped harder to his muscles, probably painfully so but he never said anything, just continued with the same slow fucking. You tried to relax your muscles and distract yourself from him but his cock was hitting all the right spots and it didn’t help matters when Steve suddenly grunted from behind Bucky as he came,  his cum spurting out and into the water.

“Please!” you had to plead now, closing your eyes as the feeling of orgasm was so overwhelming.

Bucky grunted loudly and you could feel his cock pumping inside of you as he finally agreed, “yes, cum for me!” and at the same time snapped his hips hard into you. Your whole body went rigid, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him in waves of utter perfection.

It took a couple of seconds to calm down, Bucky’s half-limp dick sliding out and a gush of Steve and Bucky’s cum followed, now tainted pink by your period but you definitely didn’t care anymore.

Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t just ready to put you down but you would have most likely just sat on the floor, not trusting that your legs were strong enough to hold your weight. So both Ssteve and Bucky helped to wash your body with soap, being careful of the sensitive area between your legs before turning off the water and stepping out.

Whilst Bucky and you were first in the shower, Steve had cleaned up the mess on the countertop and had prepared a fresh pad, underwear and pyjamas for you to get into afterwards. As the three of you climbed into bed, you could honestly say you’d never felt this cosy before on your period.

Laying your head against Bucky’s chest, Steve sat beside you and scrolled through his phone, reading to order some takeout. The second-in-command kissed along your hairline, his fingers locking with yours as he asked, “how's the pain now?”

“It still aches but it’s a lot better than it was, thank you”.

Steve leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder, “good, I think we should make this a monthly occasion”.

Your used cunt clenched at that thought and you had to bite your lip from moaning, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him, “me too”.

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Obligations - Part 2

Requested by @slay-thou-pookie @crossxskies @babypeapoddd and @damalseer

Part 1 > Part 2

Tags: Hurt

Twelve fingers. Ten toes. You’d counted them yourself multiple times. Of course, Stan had missed the birth of his nephew. He was in jail. Your husband was in jail. You drove back to the Murder Hut on your own. Stan was going to get an earful when he got home. You knew he knew that.

Now? You sat in that ugly yellow armchair with your son in your arms. You’d been too exhausted to walk up the stairs to the nursery Stan had put together. You kissed the newborn’s head, “Welcome home, sixer. Sorry your dad’s not here.”

In the quiet, you stared down at the bundle in your arms, counting his fingers again. You wondered what Ford would say if he were there. You knew he’d be in love. A part of him, however, would feel bad his kid inherited those extra fingers. If you ever saw him again, you planned to tell him just how much these six little fingers gripping one of yours meant to you.

“Did I miss it?” Stan shouted as he stormed into the living room.

You glanced at the baby in your arms and then back to him. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I’d say you did.”

You could see the regret written on Stan’s face. You had gotten married so you wouldn’t have to go through this alone, but you still had. It killed you. Not only was Ford gone, but Stan was too.

Placing the infant in his arms, you gave him a soft kiss to the cheek, “Meet your son, Stanford.”

Stan was so enamored by the baby in his arms, he didn’t say a word when you called him Stanford. He hated when you did that, often the names spilled from your lips in a fight on accident. Before you could sit back down, Stan took a hold of you with one arm, pulling you close.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he muttered into your hair. You had plans to yell at him, but, looking at him now, holding your son, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “You did good, kid. He’s perfect.”

You took the baby’s hand in yours, holding it up for Stan to see, “Twelve fingers.”

“Ah,” Stan sighed, studying the baby’s hands, “just like his old man.” You could see the hurt in Stan’s eyes. You wondered why it was there. Apart of you knew the truth, but you didn’t want to see it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s what they say. Right? “What did you name him?”

“Stanley,” you said fondly as the baby is Stan’s are gave a little whine.

Stan looked at you, “You gonna tell em what you named the kid?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “How am I supposed to yell at him if I don’t know his name?”

“I named him Stanley, you idiot.”

Stan beamed before his lips met yours. At first, you didn’t know how to react, but you caressed his cheek anyways. This was just hormones. You knew that. Neither you nor Stan loved each other, at least, not like that. He knew you’d never love anyone else. You knew he couldn’t be tied down, a free spirit. Yet, you kissed him anyways, pretending he was Ford just for a moment.

As your son grew, Stan was a doting uncle father. He coached little league teams. He taught your son how to ride a bike. But that boy was all Stanford. He refused to take up boxing when Stan had suggested it. He preferred reading over sports, but you could never shake that ache in your chest when your little boy called him daddy.

This obligation Stan had inherited from his brother was trying more so on you than him. You knew Stan reveled in it. He loved being a dad and he was good at it. You credited natural instincts because you’d met Fillbrick Pines before. That man didn’t have a nurturing bone in his body. Stan? That man was so supportive.

Every report card was hung up on the refrigerator. Little Stanley’s artwork was framed and displayed in the Mystery Shack gift shop. Stan and Stanley even worked together to create attractions. It was sweet. They were sweet.

Before you knew it, your baby was a grown man. He looked so much like his father, six fingers an all. College graduations were plentiful. Your son was a graduate of West Coast Tech. Ford would have been so proud.

When Stan got that portal running again, you had cried. You were a bundle of emotions. What would Ford think? What would your son think? How would you break this news? How could you?

As soon as Ford came through that portal, everything changed. You ran into his arms despite the confusion on your son’s face. Kissing him again erased thirty years of despair. He was back. It was bittersweet. He was back, but he missed so much.

After Dipper and Mabel were sent to bed, the hard part began. “Heh, well son,” Stan started, “I guess it’s finally time we tell you the truth.”

Ford was still fuming. Stan had married you. He didn’t the one thing Ford never thought he’d do, steal his girl. He couldn’t blame you. He had left you. Now, you were his wife, mother of his child. It made Ford sick and he blamed himself. Had he not built that portal, you would be his wife. Your son would be his.

“I’m actually your uncle.”

“What?” Ford and your son questioned in unison.

You simply nodded, “I found out about 2 months after you left.” The look on Ford’s face was full of self-loathing. “I thought it was just stress. I didn’t think-“

Ford’s attention turned back to his son who had a haze of distrust clouding his mid. “You and Stan aren’t-“

“Nope,” Stan shook his head. “Technically, poindexter, you’re married to [Y/N].”

After a few weeks, after Weirdmegeddon, your son and his father grew closer, but Stan was always near by. You wondered how you had gotten so lucky, how your son had gotten so lucky. Without Stan, you couldn’t have done this on your own. Without Stan, you wouldn’t be packing him, your husband, and your son up for a year-long sailing trip.

“That’s everything,” you grinned, handing the last bag over to Stanley. You kissed his cheek, so proud of the man he had become. “Dong let your dad and Stan fight too much, please.”

Your boy hugged you tight, “I won’t, Ma.”

Ford kissed you softly. His hand clapped on his son’s back. “I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”

“[Y/N],” Stan called from the boat’s bow, “Did you pack the sunscreen? You know Stanley gets all lobstery in the sun.” Ever the worried dad.

[guiltyasdave]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

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

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

another snippet of the barbecue fic (aka another snippet of buck being horny for his boyfriend lmao I swear this is a wholesome fluffy family fic haha), this is my priority now, I wanna finish it soon so send all the motivation haha <3

prev snippet

___

“Behave.” He scolds with no heat behind it.

“Mhm, yessir.” Buck purrs, his lips moving across Tommy’s bare shoulder. 

“Fuck.” Tommy breathes out and completely stills, and Buck can’t really see his face but he knows his boyfriend closed his eyes and is trying to calm down – which can’t be easy with Buck still plastered against his back. “This food is gonna burn if you keep this up. And we have guests to feed.” He adds, and as if to make a point, he flips a slightly overdone burger, Buck hindering his movements just a little bit.

Before he can respond, he hears another voice get through the chatter and music and reach his ears.

“Buck!” Chimney calls, and Buck looks over his shoulder to find everyone’s eyes on him, amused expressions on their faces. “Don’t distract our cook, we’re starving!”

“I’m just scolding him for taking his shirt off.” Buck says easily, then adds a little louder, to Tommy but making sure everyone hears, “Babe, you’re gonna burn yourself, you’re a firefighter, you should know better.” He shakes his head, and Tommy looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re gonna pretend like you don’t approve?”

“Oh, I so don’t, Tommy, at all.” Buck tries to keep a straight face, but a chuckle bubbles out of him anyway. “You’re such a distraction, this is dangerous for everyone here.”

“I think you’re the only one with that problem, Buckaroo.” Hen laughs, and only then Buck remembers everyone’s still paying attention to them. It’s so easy to get lost in Tommy, to feel like it’s just them, even in a crowd of people. So distracting. It’s a hazard, really. He should keep Tommy away from everyone, preferably locked in the bedroom with him, for everyone’s safety.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @bibuckkinard @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @hippolotamus @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck @kinkleydiaz @diazsdimples @aringofsalt

[softkostyk]

Apparently AO3 needs to give the collection approval before they can post it , but I’m impatient, so here’s my Angelblack one shot set about a week after 1x08 (the Rupert/Cameron issue is not discussed, but I imagined a scenario on which it was somehow dealt with).

anxious angel I’ll wrap you in heart shaped bubble wrap so you won’t get hurt

“Daddy is going to murder you,” Taggie said with a light shake of the head, strawberry blonde hair catching the early morning sunlight just outside the Priory. Rupert had started visiting at times where Declan was less likely to see him and Taggie alone–and he had quickly grown rather tired of it. He didn’t want his feelings for Taggie to be a secret. He didn’t think he’d been doing that good of a job at hiding them, anyway.

“I very much doubt that,” said Rupert with a tilt of the head. “Blood is a nuisance to clean off tapestry.”

Taggie looked up at him with a raised eyebrow that Rupert knew exactly translated to “Be serious”.

“Angel,” he started again, reaching to touch her shoulders. “He will be pissed. I can agree on that. He will try to pummel my face with his fists. But he will also have to surrender, eventually.”

“Declan O’ Hara doesn’t surrender,” Taggie sighed. “You saw his reaction to those photos in the car–and we weren’t doing anything.”

“You can make your own decisions,” Rupert provided unhelpfully.

“Yes, but I am still afraid. I don’t want to lose my dad. And I’m sure you don’t want to lose your friend.”

How typical of Taggie, hitting the target with all the precision of a professional archer. Of course Rupert didn’t want to lose Declan’s friendship. Hell, his only true (human) friend had been Lizzie for so long, he’d grown quite addicted to being able to rely on more than one person. He’d always known it was dangerous–just as befriending, and developing feelings for Taggie had been.

But there was no going back, was it? He meant what he told her. He hadn’t realized just how much harder it had become, something as simple as breathing, before he met her. Watching her with someone else felt like being stabbed in the chest by a thousand fireplace pokers. And for perhaps the first time in his life, being with someone else felt like true betrayal; to Taggie, and to himself. He wanted to be the man she thought he could be. He wanted it desperately. And Declan would have to just bloody deal with it.

***

Taggie entered the kitchen first, eyeing her father warily as he absentmindedly puffed on a cigarette, the day’s newspaper spread across one bent knee.

“Dad,” Taggie made herself say. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’m all ears, love,” he said without taking his eyes off the paper. Taggie stopped fidgeting with the sleeve of her jumper.

Rupert slowly walked into the room, his usual easy gate, a small, if tight smile on his lips.

That caught Declan’s attention.

“What are you doing here? The meeting is in a few hours,” he said, his mustache twitching in a curious smile.

Taggie glanced at Rupert, who in turn glanced at her.

“I wish I could say I am sorry, Declan,” he said as he took hold of Taggie’s hand. Her heart was beating rabbit-fast against her ribcage.

Her dad’s smile quickly evaporated as his brown eyes moved to Taggie and Rupert’s joined hands.

“No,” he said. One short, inescapable word.

“Declan,” Rupert started, but he got up, the chair scraping horribly against the tiled floor.

“Again? Fucking again? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Daddy, please–”

“Your room, Tag. Now.”

“I’m not a child! I will not be banished to my room when the conversation is about me, Dad!” She held tight onto Rupert’s rough palm, gripped onto his fingers for dear life. She would not back down, and she would not be quiet.

“You get your hands off her in the next two seconds, or I’ll break your fucking nose, Campbell,” her dad said, ignoring her entirely.

“Fine,” Rupert said, and Taggie’s head was already whipping towards him, but Rupert’s encouraging nod made her loosen her grip on his hand. “See?” He added, raising both palms in a placating gesture.

“What the fuck did you do to her, mmh?”

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Rupert said ruefully. “It was one kiss, Declan. Maybe two–”

But her dad was already crushing Rupert’s freshly pressed shirt in his fists and slamming him against the nearest cabinet, its content rattling wildly.

“Dad!”

“You think I won’t kill you? Are you testing me?” He said, eyes ablaze as Rupert gritted his teeth, clearly not wanting to hit back.

“I need you to listen to me–”

“Shut the fuck up!” Declan roared. “You are not going to be shagging my daughter, do you understand? She will not be a bloody notch in your belt!”

“Do you remember when you interviewed me?” Rupert asked after her dad smashed him against the fridge, this time. Taggie was torn between screaming and crying.

“I should have fucking ruined you when I had the–”

“You asked me if I’d ever been in love!” Rupert shouted, and her dad went dreadfully still. Rupert took a breath and then said, “I said I hadn’t. And I thought I hadn’t–I didn’t think I could.”

He looked over at Taggie over her father’s shoulder, and her lips parted in surprise.

“I can apologise for hurting you, Declan. But I cannot apologise for the way I feel about Taggie.”

Taggie wanted to grab his father’s shoulders and pull him away from Rupert, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Taggie had never been good with words–which her mother never allowed her to forget–but in that moment, she thought there weren’t any words that would suffice to explain the rumbling in her chest, the tightness in ehr throat.

Her father kept one arm against Rupert’s neck as he turned to look at her. There was something complicated in his expression–sad, almost. Taggie couldn’t bear it.

“He’s going to hurt you,” he said, as if it were obvious. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“So which is it? I’m a stupid child, but he’s not good enough?”

“I never called you that,” he hissed.

Taggie shook her head, expelling a shaky breath. “If I get hurt, then I get hurt.”

Her dad’s dark eyebrows joined on his forehead. Rupert’s eyes were only for her–even when he was risking being beaten half to death.

“I did everything right. I went out with Sebastian. I tried, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to be unhappy for the sake of p–p–propriety. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep everyone happy, but that’s it, daddy. I want to be happy, too. I think I deserve it.”

Her dad seemed, impossibly, lost. Until a few days ago she’d never seen him at a loss for words–and now, twice in the span of days. First when her mother left for London, and now.

“He is twice your age, Tag,” he said then, helplessly.

“There’s nothing I can do about that,” she shrugged, pressing her lips together.

He let go of Rupert then, though Taggie suspected it had less to do with him not wanting to hurt the man anymore, and more with wanting to give her his full attention, if only this once. Rupert released a quiet breath, straightening. She hoped he wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk.

“He beds a different woman every other day. He will let you down, Tag. Men like him always do.” He fished in his pocket to grab another cigarette, and Taggie wordlessly passed him the matchsticks box.

“Maybe. Maybe things can be different.” She could never know it for sure, but she believed in Rupert. She felt it, somewhere deep inside her, that he could be who she needed him to be. And most importantly, that he wanted to.

“Things are different,” Rupert said quietly. Her dad grimaced around the cigarette, slowly turning to face Rupert once more.

“Say I give you my blessing–which I will not. How are you going to protect her, mmh? The press would get wind of it soon enough. Brand her as your plaything.” He spit out the last word, and Taggie frowned at the prospect.

“I will do whatever is necessary. I won’t let anyone speak ill of Taggie, and if they do, they’ll find themselves jobless the day after. You know I can do that.”

Taggie bit on her lower lip; she didn’t think she was terribly fragile, and she had been trying hard not to care about what others might think of her. But the sheer protectiveness in Rupert’s tone warmed her from the inside out, and she’d be lying if she didn’t say it made her feel safe, to know he would be in her corner, no matter what.

“And if I ban her from seeing you? If I kick her out when she doesn’t?”

Taggie shook her head, her stomach dropping as she called for her dad, but Rupert said, “I don’t think you would do that. But if you do, she has a place to stay.”

“Remember when I interviewed you?” Her dad added after an eternity, mocking Rupert’s question from a few minutes before. “I lied. I was very much not bluffing–and I can still hurt you with what I have.”

Rupert’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised–but he shouldn’t have been. Taggie had hoped that was all in the past, but she knew her father too well to think he didn’t have some cards left to play. Rupert hung his head, and Taggie trembled, afraid he would just accept defeat.

“Send it to The Scorpion, then.”

Taggie’s breath wooshed out of her, and Declan stilled.

“Whatever it is, it cannot possibly hurt more than giving Taggie up.”

Taggie knew she had to exercise some self restraint if she didn’t want to be calling an ambulance up at the Priory for the second time, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking past her dad and to Rupert’s side. He gave her a small smile, and she smiled right back.

When she turned, her dad’s cigarette was a stub between his fingers. He looked between the two of them, and so much was swirling in his eyes–disappointment, worry, hurt. Taggie didn’t know what resignation looked like on Declan O’ Hara’s features, but she thought she might be glimpsing something like it now.

“Venturer needs your money,” he said. “I don’t like it. I don’t like that you are doing this to me. If you want to stay, you’ll have to stay out of my sight.”

Rupert nodded, and some part of Taggie felt selfish for forcing him to give up something Ruper had quite literally everything riding on. But the other part of her, the part that was louder and braver, couldn’t help but relish in the knowledge she was more important to him than Venturer. Than her dad’s friendship. Than, potentially, his reputation.

“Alright,” Rupert said, his knuckles brushing Taggie’s. He gave her a long look, and Taggie wanted to kiss him, but there would be many more chances to do just that. Rupert left, Declan trembling with restrained rage and without sparing him a glance.

“Daddy,” Taggie breathed.

He shook his head, raising one hand to silence her, and stormed out of the room.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, held out for the nearest chair to steady her. She didn’t want her dad to hate her, to think her naive, to stop talking to her.

But, in truth, she was also relieved.

Caitlin would support her–Patrick too, maybe. And Rupert would be there. She was choosing herself, for the very first time, and it filled her with such potent light, she promised herself she would never go back to the shadows.

***

“I’m sorry,” Taggie told Rupert that evening as they walked, hand in hand, down the sloping path that took them from Lizzie’s house to the Priory. She’d invited Rupert for tea, and Taggie had joined them as soon as she could get there. Lizzie had been mildly surprised–more about Taggie, than about Rupert. He appreciated Lizzie speaking her mind, openly telling Tag to be careful, and warning him not to screw things up.

“What about?” Rupert asked.

“Dad,” she said simpy. “Working with him is going to be a nightmare.”

Rupert chuckled, his thumb drawing soothing motions across Taggie’s. He felt her shiver slightly, and he pressed his shoulder to hers. “You know I love a challenge.”

“You can pretend it doesn’t hurt, but I know it does.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then said a simple, “Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

He turned to her, and the feeble orange light from the setting sun hit her blue eyes. He’d never seen anything more lovely. “Not one bit.”

Taggie laughed, for the first time today, and Rupert smiled back. He was so unabashedly happy to see her happy–to know that for all the people he’d hurt, there was one person in the world he would never. Could never. It wasn’t redemption, but it was real. His chest stirred with affection too strong to be contained, and they stopped in the street as he pulled her close, splaying his fingers on her waist. She smiled up at him again. He felt as if he’d been touched by the sun for the very first time.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said. Taggie whispered an acnowledgement, eyes bright.

So he did.

He held her close as their lips touched, her mouth tasting faintly of the chocolate she had at Lizzie’s. Her soft hands came up to his face, caressing him gently, in a way no one ever had before. They detached, briefly, and though it’d been a chaste enough kiss, Rupert had to stop to get back his breath.

“You really are an angel,” he said.

“Angels look over people,” she replied. “Keep them safe.”

Rupert nodded. “I’m no angel. But I’ll do the same for you.”

Taggie stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, Rupert’s eyes fluttering closed.

“I know,” she said, putting her hand in the crook of Rupert’s arm.

And he walked her home.

[joekeeryswife]

Deadbeat dad - e.m

hello angels! i hope you’re all okay. i am not after writing this, i’m legit in floods of tears. it is a sad dad/rockstar!eddie. i am legit heartbroken at this omfg. anyway, enjoy reading🩷 eddie’s part two x steve’s part two x

taglist (add yourselves 🩷) @eddieamoremio @theshireisonfire @thankingjoe @livsters @sadbitchfangirl @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @juleshadalittlelamb @hollandweather @lovurry @bibieddiesgf @plk-18 @Heyyimmissunderstood @m-rae23 @sheisjoeschateau @hargrovesswifee @shiftingmack @chxrrysprxut @Idkjoequinn (if there’s a line through your @ i can’t tag you, lmk if you’ve changed your name🩷)

"i can't make it today, i'm really really busy" you sighed, rubbing your forehead with your free hand as you held the phone to your ear with your other. "this can't keep happening Eddie, she has been wanting to see you for weeks now" this was the third time this month Eddie had cancelled.

your sweet girl Penny had been ecstatic when Eddie spoke to her last week to say that he would be here this weekend and he wasn't. "well i'm sorry y/n but i have things to do. this band is really important to me" you weren't shocked. Eddie had always put the band before his family, that was why you and Eddie split up.

"she's your daughter, she can't fit her life around you anymore. she should be more important then that stupid band you have" you could hear Penny's footsteps upstairs meaning she was now awake. "you know what fuck you. i'm busy all the time and i've only cancelled once, get over yourself" you scoffed, not wanting to argue over the phone you asked one simple question.

"are you going to be here for her birthday next Saturday?" you just hoped for once that he would put his daughter first, she loved him but he just left her hanging all the time. "yes y/n i'll be there. what time" he sounded uninterested, like he didn't really care for the party but it was important to her that he was there.

you felt a little glimmer of hope that maybe he would change and make an effort for one day "be here by three, let me know before if you can't come because i'll have to tell her-" he cut you off "i got it bye" with that he ended the phone slamming it down harshly. you put the phone down and heard Penny quickly approaching the living room.

"mama i need to get ready for daddy" you looked at her with a sympathetic smile. her curls were all over the place but she looked so adorable, holding the small bear she had gotten for her first birthday. you opened your arms for her and she climbed into your lap allowing you to wrap your arms around her, you kissed her forehead a couple of times and sighed.

"daddy can't make it today sweetheart" you felt her shoulders drop. "but why?" her voice was quiet and filled with sadness making your heart break. you brushed her curls out of her face and stroked her cheek "i don't know baby". you saw her cuddle her teddy bear closer and felt her sigh deeply.

"it's okay mama we can do something together right?" she looked up at you as you looked down at her. her eyes were exactly like her dads, it was like looking at a mini Eddie was staring up at you. she only got a few features from you but she was beautiful, the prettiest little girl.

you smiled and nodded your hand running through her hair "of course we can, you pick" she smiled at you and thought about what she would like to do that day and you just prayed that Eddie made it to her party. it was one day, would he really miss his daughters birthday?

-

"is daddy coming today mama?" you heard Penny say as you set up the snack table in your spacious living room ready for the party which was in a few hours. you turned to look at her, she was dressed in a white dress with her curls laying perfectly in a ponytail. "i think so honey, he told me he was coming so i don't see why not"

today was the day you would see if Eddie would show up for his daughter. one day that was so special to her and you were still hoping that he would show up and surprise you all. Steve and Robin had come over to help with everything around the house and you were so grateful to have friends like them, who were willing to take the time to come to your house and help you.

"come on birthday girl, why don't we go upstairs and play with your toys" Robin said as she left you to finish up the snack table. once you heard her bedroom door close you sighed, you knew the chances were very slim that Eddie would show up and you just hoped that he would prove you wrong.

Steve was on a step ladder hanging up a huge banner when he turned to look at you, being careful he wouldn't fall off. "do you think he will turn up?" everyone who knew the situation with you and Eddie knew it was very unlikely that he would turn up.

"i don't think so but i can't say that to her today, i'm just hoping that he does. not for me but for her she deserves it" it had been three years since you and Eddie split up and he had seen Penny maybe 20 times. it went from him seeing her every time he came back here from work to him not making the effort in showing up for her.

"he is being stupid. if he doesn't show up he it's unforgivable. i'll punch him if you need me too" you laughed loudly. it was well known that Steve was not a good fighter but you appreciated the thought. "with your track record i think we should leave the fighting" you smiled at him and looked up at the clock on the wall.

three o'clock had been and gone meaning the party would start soon. "i think Wayne has taken the day off to see her though so that's nice. all her friends are coming so if he doesn't she might be distracted enough to not notice" Steve felt sad for you but especially Penny.

he knew what it was like to have parents that didn't care, didn't bother showing up and he was happy that Penny had you. you always went above and beyond for her and he always admired it. you heard the doorbell ring making you smooth out your dress "it looks perfect okay? i'll go get Penny you open the door" Steve stepped down from the ladder and took it with him as he left you.

you walked to the front door and looked through the peephole to see Wayne standing there with a small, neatly wrapped gift in his hand. "hi Wayne" you said as you opened the door with a smile on your face. Wayne smiled and opened his arms to greet you, you were lucky you always had an amazing relationship with Wayne.

he was always here when you needed him, he helped loads when you and Eddie split up and he always made time for Penny which was the most important thing. "how you doing?" you pulled away from the hug and moved to the side so he could come in.

"i'm okay, very emotional. i can't believe she's five, she's growing up" you followed him into the living room and sat down next to him on the sofa. "i know, seems like only yesterday i got the call from ed's that she'd been born" he instantly realised what he had said and stuttered out an apology which you dismissed "it's okay really, it's a happy memory" it was a touchy subject and you knew Wayne had no ill intentions saying that.

"grandpa Wayne" you heard Penny scream as she saw her grandad was here. "hi princess" he smiled as she ran to him and squealed when he picked her up and placed her on his lap so he could cuddle her. "happy birthday" he kissed her forehead and you smiled at the interaction.

even though bad things happened between you and Eddie, Wayne was always there to tell him that what he did was stupid and that he'd let go of the best thing that would ever happen to him, he was also there for you when you and for that you were forever grateful. Wayne never left.

"did you get everything you wanted" he asked as the two pulled away. you wanted to stay and watch the two of them but another knock at the door pulled you away from the small group.

the next people to arrive were Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Will and Mike. you could see a few cars pulling up outside your house so after you greeted them you kept the door open and waiting for them. you could hear Penny giggling in the living room which meant she was happy and that was all that mattered to you today.

once everyone was in the party the kids were dancing and singing whilst the adults lingered around the living room and kitchen talking to one another. you saw Penny and Lottie, one of her school friends dancing with one another making your heart swell with adoration. she looked just looked so happy.

you were standing with Dustin and Steve, watching the kids closely just incase something was to happen. "so, where's Eddie?" Dustin asked as he looked around the room you only sighed and shook your head. "i don't know, i told him to be here at three and it's now four thirty"

you knew something like this would happen just like your gut feeling was telling you it would. "maybe he's just running a little late? i mean it's his daughters birthday for gods sake he needs to be here for her" Dustin rolled his eyes and Steve felt anger filling his body. how could someone do something like this to Penny? the sweetest little girl didn't deserve this.

"i doubt it Dustin. its been almost a month since he last saw her and every weekend he tells her he's gonna be here and then that day rolls around and he isn't. she is heartbroken every time and i'm honestly so close to just cutting off visitation, it's not like he sees her anyway" Dustin nodded and scratched the back of his neck, Eddie was his friend but it was getting harder and harder to defend him.

"he's unfortunately going to find out the hard way, have you told him how this is making her feel?" you nodded and looked at Penny again who had the biggest smile on her face as she danced with more of her friends. "of course i have, every time i get hit with the 'this band is so important to me' but i just keep remembering what it was like before Corroded Coffin took off you know?"

before the band got recognition he worked as a mechanic with Wayne, he made time for you and Penny but it was like as soon as they got the fame he didn't care. his priority changed. "he used to care, he was an amazing dad and i loved him but now i'm stuck wondering how can one person change so quickly. she loves her dad and it breaks my heart seeing her excitement fade as soon as i tell her he isn't coming. it's just too much for her, it's too much for me"

you looked up at the ceiling as you felt tears fill your eyes, you could feel your lip tremble as you tried to keep them in. of course when you and Eddie broke up it broke you, you thought the two of you would be together forever and just seeing the man you love change within a few weeks hurt you badly.

"hey no no don't cry, he isn't worth your tears honey. you're doing an incredible job and he's an asshole" you felt Steve's arm wrap around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a hug. you took a deep breath shocked that you were managing to keep these tears at bay. "it's just one day that i wish he tried, i can manage the other times but it's her birthday and he can't even show up" both boys nodded and you felt Steve's hand stroke your arm.

"he's a dick, but i promise you have all of us and i know it's not how you envisioned your family but you make that little girl so happy and you've done it all on your own. let's try forget about him and enjoy it yeah?" you nodded and kissed Steve’s cheek.

it was now nearing the end of Penny’s party and she was sat on the small sofa which was by the window overlooking the front garden watching as each car drove by the house. she was hoping that one of them would stop and her dad would be there to surprise her but every time the car didn’t stop she felt sadness fill her body.

“sweetheart, everyone’s in the kitchen ready to do your birthday cake” you said as you walked into the living room. “daddy’s not coming is he” you could hear the upset in her voice and it just broke you. you sighed and walked to her and sat down next to her, it was just big enough to fit the two of you.

you stroked her cheek softly and nodded “i don’t think so baby, i’m so sorry” you just watched as she nodded, she wasn’t sulking but you could tell she was really upset. “do you think we could call him maybe? maybe he’s stuck in a jam” you knew what she meant, a traffic jam was a common excuse that you had used for Eddie not turning up.

“of course we can” you got up and walked to the phone which was by the tv and dialled Eddie’s number. the phone rang but of course there was no answer and you watched as she got up from the sofa a frown on her face. she walked to you and held out her hand so she could take the phone as she heard the voicemail beep meaning she could leave a message.

“daddy. are you coming to my party, i miss you” with no response she placed the phone back down on the holder and you kneeled down. she grabbed your hand tightly “it’s okay sweet girl, we will sort it i promise. come on everyone’s waiting for you” you kissed her cheek and stood up so the two of you could walk to the kitchen.

it was evident that she was sad as she listened to everyone sing happy birthday to her and when she blew out her candles, she wished that her dad would turn to her party and surprise her. but her wish unfortunately never came true.

-

it had been a week since Penny’s birthday party and you hadn’t heard from Eddie at all, he never returned the voice message Penny left and you couldn’t help but cry once Penny was in bed and everyone except Steve and Robin had left. you couldn’t get that sad look on her face out of your mind.

today Steve was round and had decided he was going to take you and Penny out to the mall for some shopping and some ice cream, he had promised Penny last week when she was sat on his lap crying into his neck that Eddie didn’t turn up.

it was four o’clock and all three of you were finally ready to go to the mall, Steve and Penny were in her room finishing up a puzzle they had started that morning. it was an easy one but Steve had acted like he didn’t understand it which made Penny explain it in what he described as the most perfect explanation he had ever heard.

you were putting on your shoes and waiting for them to finish up when a knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. you opened the door and was shocked to see Eddie standing there with a gift in his hands. “hey y/n, where is everyone. the party started an hour ago” he tried to brush past you but your hand stopped him from coming in.

“the party you’re talking about was last week Eddie, you knew that” you were furious, he’d turned up a week late. “no it’s not it’s today” you shook your head. “it wasn’t Eddie and if you answered your phone you would know that it was last week. did you not listen to the voicemail Penny left you?”

he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair “look i thought it was this weekend, it’s only a week why does it matter. i’ve come to spend the day with her” you scoffed and shook you head again, it was almost laughable.

“you’re joking with me right? you think that you can just turn up here a week late and act like that’s not okay? it was one day where i had begged you to come and you couldn’t even make the effort to show up. she’s devastated Eddie, you promised her” you almost shouted but you didn’t want to alert Penny and Steve that Eddie was here, you wanted him to leave.

“she’s busy today, like i said she doesn’t fit around your schedule anymore” Eddie rolled his eyes “i’m her dad, you can’t just stop me from seeing her” you looked him up and down, you hadn’t even realised how terrible he looked. pale, lifeless.

“you are no father Eddie, you stopped being her dad the minute your band got fame. you have no idea what it’s like to see her get hurt over and over again when you decide to not show up. maybe it’s because you’re with one of your groupies or maybe you’re too busy that day getting high with your friends i don’t care, i asked for one day. one day where you’d prove me wrong and you couldn’t even make the effort to see her on her birthday”

you just felt sad, he was nothing like the Eddie you had fallen in love with all those years ago but now when you see him you just feel angry, hurt and disgusted. “i’m sorry okay? i’ve come here to see her and i’d like to if you’d let me. i am her dad y/n and we can’t change that”

you head heavy footsteps walking down the stairs and footsteps approaching the door. you turned your head as you heard Penny laugh loudly at something Steve had said to her making Eddies focus change from you to her. she was in Steve’s arms hugging him exactly like she used to hug him and that hurt.

it took Steve a minute but he finally noticed Eddie standing there with a small gift in his hands. “oh shit” he whispered, his smile falling as he noticed yours and his hurt expression on your faces, both for completely different reasons. “hi Penny” she looked at the voice and saw Eddie standing there.

he had a small smile on his face as he took in her features. big brown eyes, curly hair which was exactly like his and lips, it was all him except for the small button nose she had obviously gotten from you. she looked at him with no expression, still hurt from what happened last weekend.

she turned away from him and dug her face into Steve’s neck. he took that as an indication that she didn’t want to see him so he walked away to the living room. Eddies smile dropped as he watched her and Steve walk away.

“he can’t just walk away with her, i wanted to see her. im her dad y/n, you can’t just take her away from me” he wasn’t angry, he was hurt that she’d turned away from him like that. “she doesn't see you as a dad anymore Eddie because you're never here” it hurt to tell him that but it was the truth.

his breathing stuttered as he heard that. yes he hadn’t been the perfect dad but he loved that little girl even if he didn’t show it. his eyes filled with tears, he wanted to say more, he wanted to stand there and fight but he didn’t want to cry in front of you so all he did was nod and hand the gift over to you. he bowed his head “i’m gonna uhh, try and change. i’m sorry y/n i really am” with that he walked away.

“i hope so Eddie” you whispered as you watched him walk to his car. you really did hope so.

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 8)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: you help toji bake brownies for megumi's soccer meet tomorrow! you're excited to spend a cute and wholesome night in with baking brownies and eating taco bell with toji but he has something different in mind... ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! oral (f! and m! recieving), penetrative sex (p in the v), smoking, overstimulation, cannabis use, rough sex ☆ a/n: GUYS MORE CRAZY FILTHY SMUT IS HERE FOR U!! enjoy luvs!! and also enjoy even more taco bell sponsorship~ next post will be gojo centered and will still have some smut so stay tuned!! im feeling a little less shy writing smut but i still have a lot of ways to go before writing the infamous 3way but so far im feeling good ab this series and still feeling the momentum >:) also toji is soooo goofy and dilfy i love him :( 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

by the time toji comes downstairs from putting megumi to sleep, you’re already measuring out flour and beating eggs for the brownies as a form of distraction from your horny thoughts. you give a quick wry smile to toji before going back to beating the eggs. you feel and hear toji’s footsteps creaking until they’re in the kitchen, and eventually, right behind you. his arms snake between your hips and you let out a gasp, despite knowing what he’s up to. toji pulls himself closer to you and nuzzles his head between you neck and shoulders, and you instinctively roll your neck to the side, allowing him full access to one of the most sensitive parts of your body. 

you close your eyes in pleasure as toji peppers small kisses on your neck and shoulder blade, causing you to breathe heavier. “toji~ we need to bake megumi’s brownies,” you whine, trying to focus your energy back on beating the eggs again. 

“right, the brownies…” toji mumbles into ear, causing you to shiver. he continues to leave tiny kisses throughout your neck before finally stopping and resting his head in  the crook of your neck. there’s a brief moment of companionable silence with him, where the only sounds were the beating of the eggs, the cicadas outside, and the hum of the heater. 

toji breaks the silence first. “so…how was your night last night?” he feels your body get rigid almost immediately and starts rubbing your shoulders. “don’t get nervous, i’m only asking because i’m genuinely interested, pumpkin. not everything about me is horny.” 

“yeah, right!” you scoff, remembering the stunt he pulled at target earlier today. “seems like you already know how my night went, anyway.” you roll your eyes as you playfully shrug toji off your neck and he chuckles. 

“that’s just the last part of the night, i wanna know how your night in general was, jeez…” toji teases as he measures out the dry goods for the brownies. you figure toji is being genuine, and you have no reason to believe he isn’t. plus, you aren’t that bothered by him eavesdropping on your steamy encounter with satoru last night – you don’t want to admit it but you find it extremely hot, in fact. 

you sigh and start telling toji about your night, from taking the gummy shoko gave you to getting kicked out of playing dance dance revolution. you omit most of the sexual tension of the night with satoru, but you figure toji can just figure that part out by himself. 

toji has an amused face by the end of your story. “wow, so this is what happens when daddy doesn’t respond to your text fast enough, huh. to think i could’ve taken care of you much better than-”

you hit him playfully in the arm before he can finish the sentence. the last thing you need in your head is satoru and toji both arguing with each other about who can satisfy you better. you’d love to bookmark that fantasy for later, though. maybe in your bed, with your vibrator. 

 “shut up!” you pour the wet mix into the dry one and start mixing the brownie mix slowly as you both chuckle. 

“i didn’t know you got high.” toji seems intrigued. 

you continue mixing. “yeah, i mean, sometimes i do. i guess we haven’t really ever...hung out like that. i mean, it’s kinda bad form to show up to work intoxicated, no?” you joke, thinking about how insane you have to be on something while babysitting a child. 

“how many times do i have to say this? cut the shit, y/n, it’s literally just babysitting.” toji rolls his eyes. “you can be so tightly wound up, sometimes…” toji moves behind you again, and starts rubbing your shoulders lightly. you hate to admit it, but jesus that feels so good. 

“still! i can’t be on some shit while with megumi…” you say, defending yourself but slowly losing your rigor as toji really hits a knot on your shoulder that involuntarily makes you let out a moan. oh, fuck. you can practically feel the smile grow on his face as he hits the spot again. you bite your lip this time to hold in the moan. 

“well, you’re not with megumi, right now, right?” you’ve long stopped mixing the brownie mix, and you turn your head to face toji, meeting him just inches away from his lips. you suck in a breath. 

“i guess not…what are you trying to say?” you boldly ask, your eyes not leaving his lips. 

“i’m trying to say…” toji brings his lips even closer to you. “it’s probably gonna be easier for us to finish our cold ass taco bell if we smoke a little joint together in the backyard, pumpkin.” you answer him by pressing your lips to his, initiating a deep kiss between the two of you. 

“i’m taking that as a yes,” toji says, in between kisses. he pulls you closer, and you turn yourself around and lock your arms over his neck, pulling him even closer to you as you respond by moaning into his lips. toji breaks off the kiss, chuckling at your frown. “patience, pumpkin…” he coos as he opens up a random cabinet in the kitchen and pulls out a ziploc baggie of a couple joints. he takes one out,  grabs a lighter from a drawer with one hand, and your hand in the other and guides you to the backyard right outside. he lights it up and takes the first drag from it, and exhales. ugh, why does he look sooo hot while smoking? it’s unfair. 

if you were this horny completely sober, you’re fucked for the night. despite knowing this, you accept the joint from toji and take a hit, letting the smoke lightly irritate your lungs before letting it all go. you really did try to play it as cool as toji when you exhaled, but you ended up coughing. heat rushes to your face as you feel toji patting your back and chuckling. 

“stop, this normally doesn’t happen, okay,” you plead between coughs. “i just don’t smoke that much.” another embarrassing cough at the end of it. 

“whatever you say, pumpkin.” toji coos as he continues to effortlessly smoke the joint with zero coughs. it makes you jealous how perfect he looks in the pale moonlight, blowing smoke out. his face relaxes with each puff, as does yours, as you both slowly lean into the buzzed feeling. 

after a couple minutes of passing the joint to one another in silence, toji extinguishes it by slowly knocking it against the outdoor table. back inside the kitchen, there’s still the brownies that need to be put inside the already pre-heated oven. 

“okay, how about you heat up the food, and i put the brownies in the oven?” you instruct toji as you carefully transfer the brownie mix into the tray. you’re definitely high right now, but you just have to use your brain for like, 3 more minutes, before you can turn it off and enjoy the night with toji, who’s currently heating up your dinner. he grabs the tray from you before you can pick it up. 

“i’ll put it inside the oven, don’t want you to get burned handling the oven while a lil stoned. just open it and take a seat.” he instructs, head gesturing to the oven. it makes your heart skip a beat as you do what he says. you wait patiently as toji brings out the food, admiring his large and built physique. has he gotten even bigger since the last time you saw him? maybe you should ask if he wants to help you work out even though you can’t remember the last time you stepped foot inside the gym. you gulp and force yourself to think of something else, and the waft of the taco bell easily melts away your horny thoughts as the munchies slowly start to kick in for you. 

you immediately start destroying your food, as toji grabs the remote to turn on…great british bakeoff? you didn’t know toji was into food television, and now that you think of it, food related tv shows are usually the most family friendly ones, too. toji senses your confusion and clears the air. 

“listen, it’s interesting, okay?” he says, defensively as he chows down on his tacos, eyes not leaving the screen as paul hollywood explains the technical challenge. 

“i’m not judging!” you’re judging a little bit. “i think it’s cute you’re into such soft dilfy tv shows…” you giggle. 

“what makes ‘great british bakeoff’ dilfy?” 

“i dunno, it’s just a dad thing to watch.” you say in between bites. 

the rest of your dinner consists of conversations around toji’s tv show interests (he watches a lot of hgtv and a weird common ground between the two of you is selling sunset) and the current episode of great british bakeoff (you feel bad even offering to bake brownies after watching their baking skills). 

you laugh when toji says he hated the time he went traveling to london (“i didn’t understand a single thing they said and their seafood is just awful!”). “you can’t judge them just by a single bad trip, toji,” you chastise, rolling your eyes. you take a bite out of a cinnabon delight and the cream oozes out around your lips. you’re about to quickly wipe it off, when you catch toji looking intently at you. 

“hold on, let me help.” he wastes no time leaning towards you, suddenly forgetting about the tv show, and licks it off your mouth and you’re not sure when you both start kissing but you were. it seemed so natural to fall into it, cinnabon in one hand and your other tugging on his hair. 

“you taste like cinnabons,” toji murmurs against your lips. 

you let out a small moan, “it’s because i was eating one…until….” the sound of the tv drown out the smacks of your lips and your quiet moans. 

“sorry, should i stop?” toji breaks the kiss and tugs on your lower lip playfully, and you moan due to the loss of contact. your hand, still resting on his head, forces him back on your lips as you hungrily open your mouth and let his tongue explore yours. 

you’re about to say more but, but you’re both interrupted by the timer going off in the kitchen, indicating the brownies are finished. the sound startles both of you and toji breaks off the kiss as you catch your breath. you both get up, the high slowly plateauing for the both of you since getting some food in your stomachs. toji carefully takes out the freshly baked and hot brownies and places them on the granite countertop. 

“god, they smell so good…” you say, practically salivating. 

“i know they’re for megs, but…i mean, it wouldn’t hurt if we just ate one, right?” toji surmises, already grabbing a knife and slicing off two small pieces for the both of you. 

“yeah, they won’t even notice.” you’re about to eat your brownie piece, when toji stops you. 

“wait, got somethin’ that’s gonna make this even better.” he strides over to the fridge and pulls out a can of whipped cream. “we can have fun with this.” 

you know he doesn’t mean it in a sexual way (or does he?) but you definitely read more into it, your heart beating faster thinking of all the dirty things you can do with the whipped cream, but first, your brain is begging you to try just a bite of the brownie before giving into your horny thoughts. you watch toji swirl a bit of whipped cream on his brownie before handing the can to you. you match him, albeit, a bit more messily. the whipped cream gets on your hands and on the plate, but you pay no mind to it as you both inhale the brownie bite at the same time. 

you do a terrible job at holding back a moan at the sweet fudgy and warm bite. “oh my god…not to toot my own horn but these are the best brownies i’ve ever had.” you say with your mouthful and toji nods in agreement. 

“megs is gonna love this tomorrow morning but he’s gonna hate us for trying a bite without him,” toji jokes. immediately after finishing his brownie, he grabs your whipped cream-laced finger and brings it to his mouth and starts sucking on it, causing you to gasp. he licks the whipped cream clean, and kisses the tips of your fingers. 

“someone’s still hungry for something sweet,” you tease, grabbing the can of whipped cream, opening your mouth, and spraying some on your tongue. you stand on your tippy toes and toji leans down and gives you an open mouth kiss. his tongue engulfs yours and exchanges the whipped cream between both of your mouths, the sweetness driving your hunger for him  even more. if you saw anyone else do this, it would make you gag, but with toji, you cannot deny how erotic it is and how incredibly soaked you are. the sweetest kiss (literally) you’ve ever had comes to an end as toji pulls back and grabs the whipped cream container.

“actually…” toji lifts you up with one arm and sets on top of the granite countertop of his kitchen. “i want something sweeter…” he brings the nozzle to your neck, which you gladly tilt for him to make space, and you feel the coldness of the whipped cream being applied on your neck. jesus fucking christ, you’re so sensitive there. you shiver at the contact. your eyes roll so far back in your head and you let out the most obscene moan when toji licks a long stripe across the whipped cream in your neck, and sucks on your skin at the end of it. you feel the vibrations of toji’s humming against your neck and you close your eyes in pleasure. 

“f-fuck~ toji…m’so sensitive there…when you lick it, ah~” toji wastes no time placing some more whipped cream on your neck and repeating the same motion as you moan again at the contact of his tongue on your neck. 

“fuck, pumpkin, i could just eat you up, right now,” toji says through raspy sighs. he’s practically inhaling you – your warmth, your scent, everything. he can’t get enough of you, with or without whipped cream. with or without clothes, too but preferably without. “gotta take this off,” toji says, tugging at the hem of your sweater.

“yes, daddy,” you say coyly as you bite your lip. you waste no time throwing the sweatshirt somewhere across the kitchen. you sit on the granite counter with your titties on full display, your nipples slowly getting harder by the second. 

“tsk, no bra?” toji immediately connects his lips to your collarbones as he covers you in small open mouthed kisses until he reaches your sternum and feels your chest moving with your heavy breaths. your knuckles are turning white gripping the edges of the countertop. “you’re such a fuckin’ slut showing up here without one…what did you expect to happen?” he teases you even further as he starts kissing lightly your mounds. 

your breath gets caught in your throat as you pathetically try to defend your decision to not wear a bra tonight. “i-i- toji~ y-you said y-you would cook for me and t-take care of me…” you’re looking down at him and he looks back up at you. you close the gap between your mouths as you engulf him in another kiss and wrap your legs around him, unapologetically bringing him even closer to you. you scoot yourself even closer to the edge of the granite counter so that your heat was as close as it could get to him without you falling off the countertop and you start grinding on him, desperate to feel something. 

with the whipped cream can still in his hand, toji breaks off the kiss, and you notice a string of saliva connecting you both. “patience, pumpkin…” he mumbles as he shakes the can. he sprays two little buttons of whipped cream on each of your nipples, which are both hard right now, and it makes you shiver viscerally. toji engulfs one of your cream covered buds and starts sucking messily, causing you to whimper embarrassingly loudly. thank god the tv noise is drowning out your noises. 

once he’s cleaned up one of your breasts, he moves on to the next one, expertly using his tongue in quick flicks against your hardened bud. you feel like your skin is on fire despite the cream being cold and you lightly tug on toji’s hair, pressing his face even closer to your breasts. it’s harder to keep your eyes open because of the pleasure that’s electrifying your body, and your moans are slowly filling up the room. 

“fuck, y’taste so sweet��” toji says in between kissing your titties, alternating between each one and making sure not a single smear of cream was left. “can’t believe this is what i missed out on…”

“p-please, toji~” you whine, “n-need more of you…” you’re not one to be insistent, but you find your hands on toji’s shoulders and they’re slowly pushing him down to face your soaked shorts. 

“need my tongue in your pussy? need daddy to take care of this pretty perfect pussy?” toji teases you by grazing his thumb over your clothed clit, making you involuntarily flinch and whimper. tears of desperation threaten to spill as you quickly nod your head and mouth a weak “please”. 

“take this off.” toji commands, his fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts. he doesn’t have to ask you twice as your shorts practically slide off of you. your ass hits the cold granite and you yelp, but not for long as toji swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the dining room table. your legs automatically spread open wide as he takes a seat on the dining chair and comes face to face to your unclothed soaking core. you hear toji swear under his breath as his pupils dilate at the sight of you completely bare for him on his dining table. 

you won’t lie – you feel extremely exposed compared to toji who’s completely clothed, but it just turns you on even more at how desperate you get for him to touch you. you’re so needy for his touch, his tongue, his fingers, everything. and just thinking about it makes your wetness drip on his dining table. your eyes roll back so far, you arch your back in pleasure from just feeling toji’s hot breath in your inner thigh. 

“p-please, toji~ no teasing…i can’t stand it~” you cry, bucking your hips closer to toji’s face. you need his mouth on you so bad it’s making you go insane as you hyperventilate and blink back tears. 

your eyes are facing the ceiling, but you feel toji shaking the whipped cream can. before you realize what’s happening, toji’s spraying another button of cold cream on your clit, and temperature causes your body to twitch. toji’s hands grab each side of your hips to hold them still, effectively forcing your legs to stay open while he finally dines on the dessert he’s been waiting all night for. 

toji licks a long strip across your folds, until he reaches your bundle of nerves and rests below a small hill of cream. the cream mixes into your core, and toji eats it up like he’s never had anything sweeter (and he hasn’t). your wanton moans get louder and louder as he dives even deeper into your core, his tongue expertly not leaving any cream to waste. 

“if you’re gonna be this loud, pumpkin, m’gonna gag you so shut the fuck up.” …was that supposed to be a threat to you? in any case, you bite your lips to stop block your moans, letting out raspy whimpers at toji’s ministrations. you feel toji’s fingers slowly creeping near your entrance and you buckle your hips futilely against his arms holding you down, in an effort to beg for more. 

toji inserts one, maybe two, you’re not sure how many fingers are inside you by the time you feel the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. your mind, already high from before, turns into mush in the face of your rising heart rate. toji hears your whimpers getting louder and your pussy clenching around his curled fingers bullying your g-spot. 

“t-toji~ m’getting close…” you say through mangled moans. tears threaten to spill as you strain to hold back until toji gives you permission. “can-can i, please?”

“can you what? use your words, pumpkin…” toji says, speeding up his fingers inside you. 

“can-can i cum, please, toji~” you whine. 

“anything for you, pumpkin. cum your brains out…” toji uses his thumb to apply the final pressure to your bundle of nerves, causing you to come undone on his fingers, and making a mess on his dining table. you don’t even have time to feel bad about it because toji starts bullying your g-spot again, leaving no time for you to recover. 

he swiftly stands up, and you feel the tent in his sweats against your thigh  as he reaches over to cover your mouth. you feel the back of your  head pressing against the hard dining room table, but it does an effective job of mumbling your scream at the overstimulation toji was giving to your pussy. your eyes roll back as he uses his thumb again to circle your clit and apply pressure. the tears you tried to hold back this entire time stream down your cheeks as you feel your body on fire after not recovering from your first orgasm. you see toji’s cruel smile as he coos at how well you take his fingers. 

“ohh, i know it’s a lot, pumpkin, but i know you can give me a second one, maybe even a third?” your eyes widen at the thought of three consecutive orgasms – you’ve never been able to do that even on your own! toji chuckles mockingly, his hands tightening around your mouth even more as he feels the signature clenching of your pussy on his fingers. he knows you're close and so do you. 

“cum for me, i know you're close, don’t hold back for me.” and you don’t. if his hand wasn’t on your mouth, you’re sure the neighbors and megumi, and maybe everyone in the neighborhood would have woken up at how drawn out your scream was. 

you’re unable to form a coherent thought as toji continues to keep his fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot and keeping up his end of his promise of making you cum three times in a row. it’s embarrassing how fast you cum the third time – it’s almost immediately and you feel yourself making a complete wet mess everywhere as your legs shake even though toji removed his fingers from you. 

toji unclamps your mouth and your breathy moans start back up again as you watch him put his soaked fingers in his mouth. “wanna taste y’self, pumpkin…so sweet…” you pathetically nod your head as toji inserts his fingers inside your mouth and you start sucking involuntarily, tasting yourself on him. he pushes his fingers deeper in you, but you hold them back. 

“want to taste you…toji, wanna suck you off…” you whine, wishing desperately his fingers were something else. 

“soon, not finished with your pussy yet.” toji takes his shirt off, and you lift your head up to admire his body. his toned and chiseled abs have a thin layer of sheen from concentrating on making you cum. you bite your lip and make eye contact with him, as he reaches down and palms his rock hard member over his sweats. you feel your mouth water in anticipation of having it in your mouth, but toji has different plans. 

toji lowers the waistband of his short and underwear, and his throbbing member springs up. with one hand, toji starts slowly jerking himself off, and with the other, he brings your pussy closer to the edge of the table. he places your legs on his shoulder, and they find a comfortable place resting on them. he gives a quick kiss to both of your ankles before rubbing the tip of cock against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. 

“nghh~ toji no teasing!” you pout, your pussy suddenly eager to take his pulsating cock inside you after being stretched by his fingers for so long. 

“okay, fine.” he says bluntly with a smirk as he slides his entire length into you, bottoming out. it takes you by surprise and he anticipates your loud moans as he once again uses one of his hands to cover your mouth and mangle your moans. 

“shh, you can take it, pumpkin, i know you can.” he waits a couple seconds for you to adjust to his length, but in all honesty, no amount of time could have helped you get used to how big he was and how full he made you feel. 

“ngh~ so big,” you complain through his hand on your mouth, as you struggle to keep your breathing normal and your moans at a normal volume. you clench involuntarily around him, and toji takes a seething breath through his teeth while scrunching his eyes. 

“fuck, pumpkin. you cannot do that, m’gonna cum on the fucking spot…” toji says, practically having to count backwards in his head to prevent himself from cumming just by inserting himself into you. “how are you still so fuckin’ tight after i fucked your brains out last time…” 

he slowly starts moving back and forth, and unclamps your mouth. he snakes one arm around one of your thighs and the other gripping your ankle next to face and forcing your legs further apart. you feel so exposed in front of him, but you can’t even complain, as toji quickens his pace inside you. you think you’re seeing stars in your vision, or maybe it’s because you’re still a bit high. your mind and body is still fucked out from your three massive orgasms previously, so you can’t make much of the things toji is saying to you. 

“y’take me so well, pumpkin…”

“feel ya clenchin’ on me again…gonna cum again? four times? such a greedy little slut…” toji clenches his teeth as he prepares for your fourth orgasm on his leaking member that’s actively fucking your brains out. you feel the familiar wave building up inside you, and it’s even stronger than the other three you had.

“fuck toji~ i feel so close…m’gonna cum, please…i-i can’t hold it b-back….” by the time you cum, you’re a babbling mess, and it takes toji everything inside of him to not cum inside you at the same time. his eyes are looking at you, fully focused on your pleasure as he thumbs your clit to help you ride the wave. you clench on him, hard, and he lets out a throaty groan. he knows he’s not gonna last much longer inside you, especially if he’s going to be watching your titties bounce back and forth with every thrust. 

“where d’ya want me to cum, pumpkin, m’close…” toji says through short, jagged breaths. you see beads of sweat on his concentrated face and his brows twitching as he’s pressed against you, keeping a consistent pace of hitting deep inside you. 

you don’t have much energy left, but you manage to croak out your one request of the night. “wanna suck you off…wanna have you cum inside my mouth…”

toji wastes no time obliging to your request, as he slows down and detaches himself from you. you weakly get up off the dining table, your legs still shaky from your orgasms, as you manage to get down on your knees in front him. he looks so pretty with his head thrown back and his eyebrows scrunched as he’s jerking himself off. he opens his eyes to see you looking back up at him, and he gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. your grasp on his leaking and throbbing member as he lets go, and you grab the can of whipped cream from the table and start shaking it. 

you place a little bit along the tip of his shaft, lick it off, causing toji to groan. you do it again. and again. your tongue takes small , sweet licks off his tip, and you feel him trying to buckle his hips into your mouth. it makes you boldly giggle at how desperate he is to get off inside your mouth. 

“y-you don’t get to tease, pumpkin, even when you’re the one sucking me off…” toji says between clenched teeth. with his hands, he creates a makeshift ponytail with your hair and forces his entire length inside you, causing you to gag on him. he starts fucking your mouth, and you feel the mascara tears falling down as you expertly control your gag reflex to take his length in. your tongue swirls as his cock is inside your mouth and you bob your head back and forth, determined to bring pleasure to the hardness of his arousal. 

toji’s thrusts inside your mouth are getting sloppier and messier, and you know he’s getting close. toji knows he’s coming undone in mere seconds, and he lets you know he’s about to spill all over your mouth, face, chin, everywhere. he cums inside your mouth and it drives him insane at how well you milk his member. you make eye contact with him as his warm seed squirts into your mouth, doing your best to swallow every drop of him. whatever you miss is dripping down your chin on to your thighs, and you hear toji’s breath return to a normal pace as he slows down. you feel his member softening and you stop sucking him and catch your breath. 

“fuck, pumpkin, how did you get so good at sucking me off…” toji says, catching his breath. you look at him demurely as you swipe his cum off your chin lick off your fingers, making a show of it by bringing your tongue out dramatically. 

“dunno, i just do…” you say, and toji shakes his head, chuckling. 

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut, pumpkin…” toji mumbles, before helping you up and peppering your face with kisses. he sees you shivering and he quickly helps you sit on the couch while he grabs a warm towel to help wipe you off and gathers both of your clothes that were strewn across the kitchen. he helps dress you before he does himself. 

“wait…was the tv playing this whole time?” you ask, confused at how many episodes of great british bakeoff must’ve been on autoplay since you guys stopped watching. 

toji laughs. “oh my god, it must’ve been playing the entire time. wait, quickly, hand me the remote, i don’t wanna know spoilers.” he quickly pauses the show and goes back to the netflix home page. god, it’s so cute he cares so much about that show. toji tosses you a blanket as he takes a seat next to you and goes back a couple episodes to where you guys stopped watching. you cuddle closer to him as you both watch the episode in silence. you feel toji’s fingers massaging your scalp softly, and you lean your head deeper into his broad shoulders, practically melting into his body. 

your eyelids feel heavier by the minute, and you try your hardest to stay awake. you need to know who got the paul hollywood handshake. you’re not entirely sure when you drift off, but it can’t have been more than a couple minutes. toji notices and finishes up the episode before slowly carrying you (quite easily) up the stairs into his bedroom, where he tucks you in and cuddles you from behind. 

he’ll never mention it to you, but by the time he’s in bed ready to sleep, he can feel himself hardening again against your ass as he spoons you. so fuckin’ inconvenient, he thinks, as he tries to think of anything else to try to sleep next to your passed out body. 

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Attitude

poly!mikaelsons x reader (klaus, elijah, & kol) | requested

summary: your attitude gets the already fired-up mikaelson boys to put you in your place the hard way

tags: tickling (kink?), sex toys, fingering, face-fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, edging, overstimulation, nipple play, wax play, minor blood drinking, minor daddy kink, minor loss of consciousness (from overstimulation), cuddling, aftercare

word count: 3.7k

“Don’t come any closer,” you put a hand up at Klaus, backing away as he continues to inch towards you. “I mean it!”

The man just smiles and licks his lips, “oh come on now, love. I mean you no harm.”

“I’m serious! Stay there! I don’t want-” His eyes flick to something behind you, but only for a mere second. Before you can question it, someone grabs your waist from behind. You scream, but your captor puts his hand over your mouth. “No! Stop!” You try to argue, but your efforts are futile. 

Klaus then comes at you quickly, knowing you won’t be able to escape his brother’s grasp. You still squirm anyway, fighting for your freedom. 

“Niklaus!” A deep voice stops all three of you immediately. Moments later, Elijah enters the room, then rolls his eyes at the situation. “And Kol, you’re here, too. Of course.” He looks at you. “Brothers, leave the poor girl alone. You’ve tormented her enough today.”

“She secretly likes it,” Kol argues. He lets you go, though, and you escape to Elijah’s side, seeking protection. 

Elijah sighs. It’s quiet as he thinks up a reply, but then you realize it’s too quiet. Too late. “I know,” he smiles. Before you can run again, he grabs you in his arms, holding you tightly and tickling your sides. 

“No, no, no! Stop! ‘Lijah, I trusted you!” You try to cry out, but it’s difficult when you’re also half laughing. 

“See,” Kol points, “she likes it.” He speeds to your side to help his older brother, then is followed by Klaus, too. The three of them are ruthless in their attack, unrelenting until you fall to your knees. 

“Okay! Okay!” You pant, out of breath, “you win! Let me go!”

Elijah finally does, but you only take a step before you’re in the arms of Klaus. 

“Wait, no! Put me down!”

“Nuh uh, love, we’re not quite finished with you.”

He carries you bridal-style to his room, then tosses you on the bed roughly. There’s no point in trying to escape - you’ll never beat him - but you try anyway. 

“Ah, ah, ah, no you don’t,” he races to stand in front of you as you crawl to the bedside. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, watching your eyes glance to the opposite site. “Whatever you try, I will always win.”

“He’s right, darling. You can’t win against us. Two original vampires versus a tiny, mere human! You don’t stand a chance,” Kol enters the room. He walks over to the other side, barricading you on the bed. 

Elijah then enters and stands at the foot. “Three, actually.”

“But you don’t have to be frightened, love. All we want is some fun. And maybe just a little bite, too.”

“Haven’t you had your fun chasing me all over?” You sass the boys. 

“Oh! She’s got a bit of attitude! No bother, we can clear that right up. Elijah, if you will.”

There’s nothing you can do as you watch the man undo his tie and stalk over to you. Your heart pounds in your chest, half from nervousness and half from anticipation. He instructs you to lie down, then binds your hands with his tie. Though before leaving you to the mercy of his youngest brothers, he kisses your bound hands and then your forehead. 

“Let me know when she’s learned her lesson. I’ll be back.”

The two wilder siblings lick their lips the minute they’re left alone with you. Your heart sinks to your toes, having no idea what could be racing in their heads. For the first minute, it’s a staring match, like a rabbit up against two wolves, all wondering who will make the first move. You’re done trying to escape at this point; you decide, instead, to stay completely still. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, love,” the hybrid breaks the silence. “Tell me, how are we making you feel? Scared? Nervous?” He makes his way closer to you with each word. “Hungry?” By now, he’s inches from your face. You can feel his breath on your lips. Your eyes are so close that you can see every fleck of gold in his green eyes. 

“Um-”

“Aww,” he cuts you off, “was that really all it took for you to drop that little attitude of yours? Seems my intimidation tactics are right on spot. I was afraid you’d require more effort.”

“I’m not scared,” you say suddenly. “In fact, I think that was a rather lousy attempt at intimidating me. You know I can handle you, Klaus.”

The man erupts in laughter and turns to his brother. Upon seeing the smirk on his face, he turns back to you. “You can, hm? Brave words from such a small, innocent human..”

“Innocent’s certainly not the word to describe me.” You peer behind him to see Kol. “Remember that time we snuck away from the Christmas party to have a little fun? It was so loud in the compound that no one heard a thing. Little did they all know what was happening right above them.” There’s a glimmer in your eyes, knowing you might turn the brothers against each other. 

In your favor, Klaus does face his brother. “What is this now?”

Kol swallows before answering, “she was in desperate need to be taught a lesson. Didn’t want to make a scene, so I brought her up alone.”

“And why did you not relay this to the rest of us afterwards?”

“Thought she had learned her lesson and didn’t need it resurfaced. Promise I taught her well, Nik. She was a very good girl afterwards. Which is what’s going to go down tonight, right, darling? You’re going to stay quiet and let us do what needs to be done.”

You bite your lip at the way Kol digs himself out of the hole. There goes your final chance at escaping this. 

“Is it not?” He prompts.

“Oh, yes, um, yes, it is.”

“Good. Now, stay there, and no touching,” he pauses, “oh wait!” He giggles childishly, “you can’t.”

Despite being apart for decades, the brothers seem to know each other’s every move when it comes to preparing you. They work in silence and light touches, though you know it won’t be like that for long. Klaus rips off your clothes and you fit the urge to protest, knowing it’ll probably just get you in more trouble, while Kol fetches something from the closet before settling in between your legs. Before long, both have their hands exploring your body. You feel tingles under their fingertips, and a burning in your core. It’s so quiet, it’s killing you, and you’re on the verge of making a comment just to raise their blood pressure a little. 

“Are-”

Just at that moment, Kol pushes two fingers into you without warning. You gasp and forget your words. “What were you about to say, darling?”

Quickly, you shake your head, denying his statement.

“Oh, you most certainly were,” Klaus challenges. “Come on, say it.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t-”

“If you admit it, I might be less harsh in dishing out your punishment.”

That’s a lie, and you know it. Yet, you come clean. “I was just gonna ask if you were actually planning on doing anything.”

The man laughs, “my, you just don’t know when to drop the attitude! You know, Y/N, Elijah is well stocked with ties. We can bind your mouth with one if we need.” He makes a stride over to the closet door.

“No! No, no, please! I’ll be good, I promise. No more comments. I’ll listen.”

“Will you now?”

“Yes! Klaus, I will. I swear.”

“Well I do like to hear the sound of you begging,” he pauses, “but until you can control your tongue, I think you need something keeping you from using it.” He opens the door and begins to sift through the selection.

“Actually, Nik, I have a better idea.”

“Do tell.”

“Don’t need a little string of fabric to shut her up. Not when there are much more crude ways to do it.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you gulp, catching on. 

The man turns around quickly, “and how do you feel about that suggestion, love? Do you want me or this pretty little piece?” He holds up another tie, but you shake your head at it. “You can answer. Just this time.”

“You. Please.”

The smirk returns to his face and he speeds over to you, dropping the tie. “You asked for this, love. Remember that.” Then, in mere seconds, he becomes undressed before you and straddles your chest. You share a look with him and nod, telling him you’re okay, before he adjusts so you can take him in your mouth. He grips the headboard, hovering over you, as you prepare. He allows a few kitten licks to his tip before deciding when you’re ready, then lowers his hips until he’s buried between your lips. Before moving, he taps twice on your shoulder and you nod - a silent reassurance that you’re still okay. He increases pace slowly until he’s found a comfortable one for both of you. 

“There you go, love,” he praises, one hand tousled in your hair. He thrusts more, and you gag, but he doesn’t let up. 

Kol, meanwhile, has just traded his fingers for the toy in his hand. With no warning, he turns it on and presses it to your clit. You jump at the feeling, making you gag again on Klaus’ cock. A whine escapes your lips, substituting a string of curse words; a vibration that only turns the hybrid on more. 

Despite your current state, you want to bite at Kol for using the vibrator, but you can’t. You try to close your legs, but he only spreads them again. You whine again, feeling yourself getting close. Your body feels like it’s on fire, spreading to every inch of your skin. A knot ties in your stomach, getting tighter by the second. Kol stops, letting out a chuckle. 

“Not yet, darling.”

The only sound you hear next is that of his belt as it drops to the floor. And for the third time, in typical Kol style, he gives no warning before pushing his cock into you. There’s no difficulty at all; not a bit of pain or discomfort, because of how wet you are. You take his size with no problem, and soon, he’s at the same pace and rhythm as his brother. 

It isn’t long before Klaus starts to get sloppy. He tries to hide it - always does - but you know the man almost as well as he knows himself. Even if he can throw you off from it, his eyes give him away. He steals glances at you, green softens to its bluer hue, and tears of pleasure escape the corners. You know you have tears, too, but he wipes them away with his thumbs. 

"Love?" He mutters. 

You nod, encouraging him to finish. He thrusts a couple more times before his taste fills your mouth. Hot, sticky release runs down your throat, and only then does he let up so you can swallow. He lifts your head up gently, not wanting you to choke, and kisses your forehead.

"Going soft on her, are you?" Kol teases. 

"She did a good job, brother. Merely rewarding her."

The youngest smiles, heart warm at the reminder of how much Klaus adores you, but he doesn't slow himself. 

"You okay?" Klaus asks you.

You nod, then stick out your tongue to show him you swallowed everything. 

"Good. Keep it up, love. Because we're not done with you yet." He cocks his head to his brother to continue. 

Kol alternates between rubbing your clit, but then removing his hand as soon as you feel the tension building again. It's killing you, but you don't want to call out and receive more punishment. 

As he waits for Kol to finish, Klaus moves to your side to tease your nipples. He squeezes one in between his fingers, while running his other hand along your body. The way you shiver at his touch almost makes him moan. In a moment of weakness, he tickles your side. You jump suddenly, giggling. Kol moans at the feeling of his cock moving inside you at the abrupt motion. You feel it, too, then become overwhelmed with the need for his release. 

"Kol," you whine. 

Klaus catches on quickly. He pinches your side again, repeating the same sequence of events. 

"I told you you loved it," Kol says to you. 

You don't respond, partly because of the laughter you're holding back. 

Neither can think of a more beautiful sight right now than the girl they love falling apart in front of them, face bright with joy, and so close to coming. 

Of course, they won't let that happen until Elijah has his way with you, but they will edge and tease you as much as they can. 

Then, finally, your body jolts one more time, and it's all that's needed for Kol to spill his release inside of you. He's a lot less in control than his brother when he's pleasured. His eyes roll back in his head and he has to fight to keep himself from collapsing onto your chest. He doesn't pull out, though, until he's done. When he does remove his cock, he immediately puts a finger inside of you, swirls it around to gather his cum, and then brings it to your lips. You suck his fingers happily, licking your lips after he retracts them. 

"That's a good girl," he says, kissing your lips and tasting himself. 

"Do you think she's ready for Elijah?" Klaus smirks after only a minute of recovery. You've barely caught your breath, and still haven't come, but you know it's not over yet. 

"I think so.”

Just in time, Elijah walks back into the room, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You gulp at the sight. “How is she doing?”

“Lots better. Dropped the attitude and has been patient for her release.”

“You haven’t given it, have you?”

“Of course not. Right, love?”

You nod quickly. 

“Very good. I have something in store that will certainly teach her. Any residual sass will just, ah, may we say… melt away.” He gives you a half smile that tells you everything you need to know. “Niklaus, get me a towel just in case. Kol, untie her, but hold her still.”

The two do as they’re told; Kol sits behind you to hold onto your arms, while Klaus and Elijah disappear into the other room for a second. 

“I love you, darling,” he whispers into your ear. He continues to leave a trail of feather-light kisses down your neck, sending chills down your spine. 

“I love you, too,” you say back. “Even when you’re mean.”

“It’s not mean, puppy, it’s our way of showing we love you.”

“Definitely mean.”

“If you think that was bad, it’s about to get way worse,” Klaus comes back, smirking, with a towel in hand.

You stiffen as he stalks towards you. “Why the towel?”

“To clean up the mess. Supposing there is any.” He puts it underneath you, lifting your body gently in certain places. 

“There will be,” Elijah says in a rather calm tone. “Kol, are you holding her?”

“I have her.”

“Good.” 

It’s at that moment that you realize what he’s holding - a small candle, lit, which appears to have been burning for some time now. “What’s that for? Silencing spell?”

“Not quite.”

You narrow your eyes.

“Less a silencing spell for the room, and more just for you.” Before you can ask any further questions, he smiles, “remember the word you say if you need to stop. Remind me of it.”

“Safe.”

“There you go.” All three of you are dead quiet and watching intently as Elijah blows out the candle. You brace yourself as he sits beside you and places a hand on your hip. With his other hand, he moves the candle so that it's positioned in between your breasts. Then, as you sharply inhale upon realizing what’s about to happen, he tilts it ever so slightly, letting liquid wax drip onto your body. Initially, it burns, and a shudder runs through you. Kol holds onto your arms just a little tighter, just in case. But as the first drop cools and hardens, you relax. Elijah takes this as a sign to continue, and drips it along the center of your body, stopping at your navel. Some of the wax falls down the sides of your stomach before it can harden, landing on the towel Klaus had laid down for that reason. The sensations have you panting slightly, but nothing prepares you for Elijah’s next move. Moving the candle back to your breasts, he lets the wax drip onto your nipples, one at a time, and then plunges two fingers into your hot, but swollen core. A loud moan escapes your lips at this, and you pull against Kol’s restraint. 

“Now, now, darling,” he whispers into your ear, nibbling at it gently. 

With Kol distracting you, you don’t notice Elijah’s nod to Klaus for him to pour more wax. It comes unexpectedly, causing you to jump, and Kol to bite you harder than he meant. Now you have three sensations: the man fingerfucking you, and increasing his speed by the minute; the man dripping wax along every inch of your bare stomach; and the man licking blood off your ear. You can feel yourself getting overstimulated. The only sounds in the room are the wet squelching noises from your heat, and cries coming from you as you beg the men to either slow down, or make you come, or both. Neither answer, though you catch a glimpse of the two eldest both smirking. 

You know you can’t fight them. There’s no use. You can only hold it out, hoping they don’t ease up, because you’ve decided you just want to come, no matter how hot your body feels. You start pleading with them by name. 

“‘Lijah, please don’t stop! Feels so good!”

At this point, Klaus has run out of wax and resorts to sticking his fingers in the hardening spots, rubbing it in circles. His nails scratch your skin painfully, but the softness of the wax eases the soreness. 

“Oh god, please, Nik! Please let me cum, please, please.”

You tilt your neck to give Kol access to your veins, knowing if you can distract him back and get him to drink, you won’t be the only one getting in trouble in case you come early. It works, and the minute his teeth sink into your neck, pleasure fills your body. 

“Oh, Kol, right there!” You moan loudly, drowning out your own words. 

“Kol!” Elijah disciplines his brother, “do not get distracted!”

Fuck. 

He draws his fangs back in, “sorry, brother. She’s so tempting.”

“Hold her in place.”

“Are you gonna let her cum soon? She’s been a good girl.”

Elijah looks at his youngest brother, then the hybrid, for confirmation.

“She has been very good,” Klaus agrees, “she’s earned it, I’d say.”

He then looks at you, never ceasing in his actions, “convince me you deserve it.”

“I’ve been so good, daddy. I haven’t come at all, and I dropped the attitude a long time ago. I won’t make you regret it, daddy, please!”

“Alright, beautiful,” he finally says, “come for me. Come for us.”

Permission granted, you immediately feel yourself start to lose control. Your mind goes fuzzy and your legs begin to shake. A series of whines escape your lips and sweat graces your forehead. 

Klaus comes up to sit beside Kol as you come undone, but Elijah fingerfucks you throughout your orgasm. All three watch in admiration as their girl experiences one of the greatest orgasms they’ve ever given her. 

Your body goes numb once it ripples through your body. Elijah slowly comes to a stop before pulling out and sucking your taste off his fingers. You want to thank him for the mercy, but are unable to speak. Only another whine comes out instead. 

“You alright, darling?” Kol notices your state first. He shakes your arm gently, trying for a reaction but getting nothing. 

“Baby?”

“Give her a little blood,” Klaus says quickly, not caring who does it. 

Kol beats his brothers to it, biting his wrist and forcing you to drink. At the same time, Elijah grabs the water bottle from beside the bed, steals an ice cube from inside, and places it on your cheeks. The sudden cold sensation, plus the healing blood, shocks you out of a daze.

“What happened there, love? Are you alright?”

You look around, at the room, the company - your boys, - and then take a deep breath. “Okay. Just overstimulated.”

“Did we go too far?” Kol asks worriedly. 

You look up and cradle his face with your palms, “no, sweetheart. It was perfect.” You look at the two on your other side. “You were all perfect.”

“You scared us there for a second, baby,” Elijah says, standing up.

You almost answer with a sassy reply, but then remember that’s how this whole thing started. Instead, you say, “can we cuddle now?”

Kol mutters in agreement and curls up beside you, but the other two insist on just a little bit of aftercare first. 

“You already did that. You gave me blood. That’s enough for now. Come cuddle.”

“Technically only Kol gave you his blood. Which is why I’m not scolding him right now for not helping us. But we’ll be with you in just a moment.” 

With a pouty face, you curl up into the youngest, burying your face in his chest. Klaus removes the towel from underneath you, while Elijah uses a baby wipe on your skin to clean the wax. He then puts a salve on your swollen clit, which he knows must be throbbing from overstimulation, as well as a lotion on your stomach where Klaus’ nails scratched. Only after they’re sure you’re well taken care of do they join you on the bed. After a second, they smile to themselves, realizing you’re already fast asleep. 

[healmydesires]

you’re my medicine ꕤ (a.s)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: you’re convinced you don’t like anakin, and that he loves to get under your skin. but one summer, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni) modern/lifeguards!au

word count: 16,5k+ (oops... bon appétit)

tags/warnings: frenemies/enemies to lovers (it’s one sided but oh well 🫣), miscommunication, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than anakin, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, an oc as readers best friend, inexperienced/virgin!reader, a bit of thigh riding, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), kinda pleasure!dom? idk… I just love pleasure doms, multiple orgasms, creampie, a bit of daddy kink, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, lots of pet names.

a/n: hellooo this is my very first anakin fic. this idea came up to me when I couldn’t sleep and I just. had to fantasise about it… and eventually I just. started writing it. anyways anakin is a new special interest and I’m literally obsessed with him. I just love him sm. ALSO! the title is inspired by bisous by aya nakamura! it’s a french song and I just. associate it a lot with him. hehe anyways ,, hope u enjoy <3 🥺

please don't forget to interact or reblog <3 thank u for reading <3 🥰 if u can, let me know if you’ve enjoyed it, it encourages me a lot!

AO3 • masterlist • playlist

Aquasplash, a water park in the south of France, near the French Riviera. Around sixty kilometres from Nice located in a city called Fréjus. 

Every summer, you come down to the south for eight weeks, to work as a lifeguard. The water park held too many children, multiple variations of slides, impressive sized pools and Anakin Skywalker.

Unbelievable. 

He’s always here during summer. Every year for the last three years and you can’t seem to understand why he keeps coming back to this particular place. It’s not like there aren’t any water parks overseas.

You can’t stand him sometimes. You know that hate is a strong word. One you try not to use often. But the frustration you feel whenever Anakin is around you consumes you to the point where you can’t even spare him a look sometimes. 

You don’t necessarily dislike the man, it’s just that he gets on your nerves in such a unique way and you can’t stand it. You truly can’t remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed his company.

He’s so charming, flirty, arrogant and just overall obnoxious. For some reason, he tries to make your life difficult. It can’t be for nothing. He thinks he can just come into your favourite summer job and sweet talk his way up to becoming one of the assistant managers. The job that you so desperately wanted, ripped away from you by the prettiest and most self-assured man you’ve ever met. All in the year when you thought you could become friends.

He ruined it all.

Yet, he’s still trying to be nice to you since day one. Too nice. You can’t seem to understand why someone would try to make you like them when all you did was being rude to them.

Either way, Anakin Skywalker is a fucking menace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It is early in the morning, the heat is already rising, warm and hazy, promising a hot summer day. 

You drive out of the centre of the city, the sun shining, windows down and the radio blasting your favourite pop song at the moment as you hum along to the tune. 

Once you see the “Aquasplash” sign you take the first turn right, moving off the main road, slowly following the small road towards the water park’s entrance. The sound of gravel crumbling underneath the wheels of your car gives you a nostalgic feeling. Bringing you back to when you would come here with your family every summer. 

As you pull your car into the staff parking lot of the water park and turn off the engine, you exhale loudly before closing your eyes briefly. You enjoy the short moment of peace as you listen to your surroundings. All you can hear are the seagulls squawking in the distance and the buzz of insects around you. 

“There’s my favourite princess.”

There goes your peace and quiet.

You swear under your breath, “fucking hell,” as you let your head fall against the top of your steering wheel. You slowly open your eyes as you give him a side glance.

Anakin is leaning against the right side of his car, staring at you with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. 

“Skywalker.” you greet him rather unfriendly, your voice filled with annoyance.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “You don’t seem that happy to see me.”

“Nope.” 

A frown forms on his face, but as quickly as it appeared it vanishes. He composes himself and a grin replaces it. “Ouch! You wound me sweetheart, I thought you’d miss me.” 

“Missing you? Boy please.” You scoff and roll your eyes before you push your car door open, hitting Anakin softly with your door, pushing him out of your way after you take your duffle bag out of the passenger’s seat. 

You don’t spare him another glance as you make your way to the entrance of the park, locking your car with a press of a button. 

“I know you’re lying!” He shouts before you hear him follow you. 

This time you don’t reply. Too annoyed to give him your time of day. Anakin loves to bother you, loves having your attention on him at all times. You’re aware you’re a stubborn person and it never seems to make him stop to try and get you to look at him, to notice him.

You head towards the office near the entrance of the park. As you enter the building you notice that it’s full. You smile as you recognise some of your colleagues from last year and you wave at them.

You hear a familiar voice calling out for you and you can’t help but squeal as you see that it’s Padmé Amidala. You quickly drop your bag as you both envelope each other in a big hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” She cheers as she squeezes you close to her. 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You smile as you pull away, winking at her.

“Impossible.” She tsks playfully. Her eyes move to Anakin who stands behind you and she gives him a friendly smile. “Hi Anakin.”

Anakin greets Padmé, before making his way further in the room. He comes to stand close to Obi Wan who is once again the manager for the summer.

“Alright, now that everyone has arrived, let’s get started with everyone’s assigned tasks and positions.” 

As he starts talking you zone out, still feeling quite tired from your long drive yesterday to the south coast. Padmé smiles knowingly as she sneaks a glance at you. 

Around fifteen minutes pass and he’s still going giving everyone orientation and their assignments, until you hear him call out your name. 

“Yes?” You blink as you make eye contact with him.

“You and Anakin are partners for the summer.”

“What?” You exclaim. You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

You see from your peripheral view Anakin smiling at you cheekily and you can’t help but move your face to his direction, narrowing your eyes at him. He shrugs at your expression and then returns his attention back to his friend.

“What this means for you two,” Obi Wan continues with a smile as you huff out in protest, “is that you will have to share most posts together.” He says as he hands out your timetable. 

“Alright, is this all?” You ask impatiently. 

“Yes—”

You sigh and roll your eyes dramatically before grabbing your bag and your friend’s hand, tugging her along with you, making her chuckle as you walk out the building to go to the changing rooms. Your colleagues shuffle out slowly afterwards. 

“Not a word.” you grumble.

Padmé’s eyes shine mischievously, as she presses her lips into a thin line in mock seriousness and makes a motion to zip her mouth with the hand you’re not holding.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

So far, the first two weeks are uneventful.

Every day whenever the visitors arrive, you are constantly busy. You’ve switched posts here and there but other than that nothing worth mentioning happened so far.

Anakin and you have been sharing the same posts but not that much either so it has been a rather peaceful two weeks for you. 

But this afternoon, you’re partnered with him again to observe the main pool of the water park together. 

“I don’t get it,” your colleague and one of your best friends, Padmé, smirks, eyeing you as she’s sitting at the table in one of the staff's kitchens while you slice strawberries for the both of you. “Anakin isn’t as bad as you make him to be.”

“Padmé…” you groan annoyingly before you continue, “that’s because he didn’t take the job you so desperately wanted for so long.” You’re already tired of this conversation, and it barely started.

Maybe it’s your own fault, for comparing yourself to him or that you resent him for getting that job. You’re quite literally aware of how childish it sounds, but you can’t seem to care. You know how much you deserved that job. 

Your friend rolled her eyes at your words. “You should really let this go, it’s not healthy. Besides… It's been two years—”

You cut her off instantly, continuing your rant. “He can’t just come here and take everything from me. He is already one of the best swimmers and lifeguards out there. He is so fucking ‘pretty’ and smart, he always gets whatever he fucking wants anyways. What else does he want?” 

You tangle your fingers through your hair in frustration as you sigh loudly. 

“Maybe…” she begins hesitantly and your gaze meets hers. “Maybe, he didn’t want to steal this ‘job’ from you. Ever thought that he wanted this job just as much as you?”

You scoff but she continues with a small smile. “And perhaps, my dear friend, you should try and be friendly with him. I meant when I said it isn’t healthy to hold such a grudge for two years. He is only trying to be nice to you.”

“Yeah sure,” you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. “He’s too confident around me, trying to get under my skin at all times.”

“Under your skin? I think he just likes you.” Padmé says with a smug smile.

“L-likes me?” You splutter as you feel your cheeks burn hot. 

Your friend shrugs nonchalantly, “it seems obvious to me.” 

Padmé isn’t right, she can’t be. 

“Anakin Skywalker doesn’t like me. Nor do I like him.” You whisper harshly as you sit down across from her with your plate full of strawberries.

“Of course.” She says as she grabs a strawberry from your plate, her voice sounding nothing but sarcastic as she rolls her eyes for the second time since she started this conversation. 

“What?” You level her with a glare. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re in denial, that's what.” She says impatiently.

Before you can even reply back, the man himself enters the room with a wide smile. You can’t help but stare at him as he greets the both of you. He’s wearing a white shirt that stretches across his chest, with the blue logo of the water park centred in the middle and red swimming trunks. His hair looks messy but he looks so beautiful, it’s unfair. The fact that he let his hair grow out makes him even more pretty. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him attractive, he’s extremely handsome but you would never admit that to anyone out loud. During the time that you spent observing him, eyes trailing up and down the tall length of him, you didn’t notice how Anakin did the same to you.

“Ready to get back to work?” He asks rather enthusiastically. 

“Sure, Anakin. I’m still on my break though. Let me finish eating and I’m good to go.”

His face lights up at your words. He doesn’t say anything and just regards you with a small smile as he leans against the nearest wall.

“What?” You feel yourself grow warm under his mirthful stare. Feeling rather embarrassed as he looks at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugs, the smile not leaving his face. “You never call me by my name.”

You stare up at him, suddenly confused. You think about what he just said, trying to recall a time where you would call him by his first name. But you don’t remember anything. You always call him by his last name or ‘skyguy’. Heat overwhelms your body at the realisation.

“Well, okay. Don’t make me regret it.” You try to say as nonchalant as you can while trying to avoid looking at anyone, instead staring down your plate. 

You don’t have to look at Padmé to know that she’s staring at you, her smirk dripping with amusement. 

“I won’t,” He winks before moving away from the wall. “See you at the main pool, sweetheart.” He says with a wave as he leaves the room completely. 

You feel relieved once he’s gone, exhaling as you finally meet your friend’s gaze as she looks at you knowingly. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs with faux innocence. 

“That look does not say nothing, Padmé.” You look at her pointedly.

The brown haired girl laughs and shakes her head. You narrow your eyes at her as she continues to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” You huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“Well, it’s funny that you’re so oblivious to each other's feelings. Your own feelings specifically.” 

Hot warmth blooms across your chest at her words, until blood rushes to your ears, but you scoff either way. “What do you mean, feelings? There are no feelings. I don’t like him.”

You say it confidently even if you could hear a tiny distant voice in the back of your head calling you a liar. You push another strawberry in your mouth as she chuckles at your words.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.” She snorts. 

You both fell in silence, mostly because you’re ignoring her. By now the plate of berries is empty and all you can do is stare at it. You sigh dramatically as you pick up your plate, moving to put it in the dishwasher after rinsing it off. 

“Anyways, my break is over. I’ll see you later.” You say as you make your way to the door.

“Don’t forget, we’re going out tonight!” Padmé calls after you.

“How could I forget, you’ve been mentioning it every day at least once this week.” You smirk as she sticks her tongue out at you playfully. 

“Don’t act like you haven’t been looking forward to it.” She says as she points a finger at you. 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, see you after work!”

“Have fun with your loverboy!”

You flip her off and all you can hear are her giggles as you leave the room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The air is thick with humidity, the summer heat enveloping you completely, and smells like chlorine. The sun is beaming down on you as you’re sitting on one of the big red lifeguards chairs. You’ve been observing the pool all afternoon, sometimes blowing your whistle whenever some children would do water bombs too excessively.

Anakin is leaning against your chair. You’re simultaneously looking out after all the swimmers in the pool and occasionally listening to Anakin ramble about anything he feels like sharing with you.

“Sometimes,” you ponder out loud, “I wonder why Obi Wan paired us two together and— hold on, why are you blushing?”

“W-what? I’m not blushing.” Anakin splutters as his face flushes more as he averts his gaze.

A devilish smile spreads across your face. “Sure you are.”

“I am not.” He huffs as he continues to try and avoid looking at you. He looks kind of shy all of a sudden. His face is still flushed, his eyes are bright and his plump lips look so kissable— hold on, why are you thinking about his lips? And why do you want to kiss them? You try to mentally shake the thought out of your head but the damage has already been made. You feel a hot flash of warmth spread over your whole body.

You genuinely hope that he doesn’t notice any of that. 

You raise your brows at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You tilt your head as you stare at him.

“Anakin, do you have anything to do with us being paired?” 

“Of course not,” he says quickly, looking flustered.

“Mmm yeah, sure.” You smirk, entirely entertained by the way his gaze keeps avoiding yours. His silence is enough to make you giggle but you can’t enjoy it that long though.

“Why does it matter?” He says more confidently, finally looking at you directly. “Is something up with you? I’ve noticed that you haven’t insulted me in a while.”

You blink at him as your smile fades as heat flashes your face, because you actually don’t know what to reply to him. Anakin is right, you haven’t been insulting him for at least a week. 

You don’t answer him instantly like you usually do, and he chuckles as he shakes his head at you. 

“What?” You say a bit nervously, but you quickly collect yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you roll your eyes at him. “No, of course not. I’m completely fine. In fact I’m keeping all the insults for later.”

“Uh-huh, sure you are.” He says his lips twisting to hide his amusement, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Yes, I am.” You say with confidence.

He’s just watching you and you feel yourself grow warmer under his stare. Suddenly you feel very hot, feeling overwhelmingly warm. Maybe it's the summer weather, or maybe it’s something else.

As silence falls between you two it gives you a bit of time to think. About how the man is always being nice to you. Teasing you, being playful with you. The way he always tries to catch your attention. The way he loves to banter with you. 

Or how you notice a lot of things about him lately. 

Like how his skin tans so easily, how when he gets a bit too close you notice he has some green speckles in his eyes, how blue and black looks so good on him. Or how his white shirts tend to cling on him so well. Or how no matter which room he’s in, whenever he smiles he lights up the whole room. Or how the whole world seems to stop whenever he looks at you. 

You gasp as you look at him, hopping off your chair, walking closer to the tall man.

“What?” He snorts. 

“I know what you’re doing.” You narrow your eyes up at Anakin as you walk closer to him, poking a finger into his warm solid chest. 

“What am I doing exactly?” He looks down at you with an amused smile on his face, looking entirely too entertained. He’s so fucking charming, it’s infuriating you.

Your skin feels extremely flushed, a bit damp, your hair is sticking to your neck and sweat is beading at your chest, your skin and red bikini clinging to your shirt. 

“Stop being—” You stumble over your breath, as it hitches in your throat, realising that you’re both standing way too close to each other. You are close enough that you can see the outline of his features, the faint slope of his nose, his jawline, or the scar near his right eye. Both of your chests are almost brushing, his warmth radiating off on you. 

“Stop being what? Or rather, doing what?” He says, a smile still on his face. Why is he still smiling?

You try to put some distance again between the both of you, but as you do you almost trip, and his arms move quickly, hands coming to steady you on your waist. 

“Careful sweetheart, don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

“What?” A sense of panic envelopes you as you realise that his hands are still on you. Anakin’s hands feel warm and wide as his palms rest on you, over your shirt. His touch feels dizzying and it feels as if you are growing warmer by the second. 

“Angel—”

“No,” You shake your head frantically, as you push his hands off you. “Stop being so nice to me all the time, stop trying to distract me, stop giving me all those pet names. Just stop. I know what you’re trying to do.” He looks at you with wide eyes as you’re going off on a rant, not able to stop. “You’re trying to get to know everything about me, trying to be all nice so I let my guard down so you can just strike and take, just like you did last time.”

He looks down at the space between the both of you, tilting his head to the side as he frowns. 

“Sweetheart, what do you mean last time?” 

“You know exactly what I mean.” You mumble as you look away.

“No I don’t.” Genuine confusion and concern graces his features. “Also, am I truly distracting you?”

“Huh?” Your cheeks flush with warmth at his words as simultaneously you feel your anxiety bubbling up inside you, embarrassment overwhelming you. 

“You said I’m distracting—”

“I didn’t,” you cut him off nervously as the warmth in your face continued to rise, still not sparing him a glance. 

Anakin says your name in such a soft manner, as he tries to get you to look at him. Suddenly you have had enough of this conversation. Thankfully the loudspeakers announce that the park is closing in half an hour, saving you from talking more about the subject.

“I’d love to stay and chat but I have other places to be!” You say hurriedly as you quickly walk away from him. You ignore him as he calls out after you multiple times, determined to get home as quickly as you can so you could start and enjoy your weekend off. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re slowly swirling your straw in your favourite cocktail as you’re staring off in the distance, while you’re sitting on a lounge sofa at the new and fancy rooftop bar Padmé convinced you both to go to. Everything feels a bit hazy, probably because of the alcohol that’s warming up your body or maybe it’s the dimmed colourful lightning and the smoke that hangs a bit in the air. 

Your thoughts keep wandering off to earlier today, about the way Anakin looked so confused and how concerned he was when you had your whole rant in front of him. He genuinely looked like he didn’t know what you were talking about when you insinuated that he hurt you last time. What if he actually didn’t know—

You feel your friend nudge you as your thoughts continue to wander. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?” You blink as you look at her. You were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear what she was talking to you about. “No, I’m sorry. Could you please repeat it?”

“Alright,” Padmé sighed. “What happened earlier?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumble as you avoid her gaze.

“Come on,” Padmé whispers your name, “I know something happened between you and Anakin.”

You exhale loudly, staring at your drink, shrugging. “There’s nothing much to talk about.” 

“Okay, well. If you eventually feel like talking about it, let me know.” She gives you a small smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you give her a grateful smile back as you squeeze her hand that’s closest to yours. 

You pull away, leaning against the sofa as you enjoy the last bits of light. The air is still warm, as the sun is setting. You can still hear the soft relaxing music in the background despite the amount of people talking over it. You close your eyes for a moment as you feel a breeze hitting your face, caressing your skin and hair. You desperately needed a night out and you’re thankful for Padmé picking out this location. 

“Man, I truly needed this.” You chuckle after you take a sip of your drink. 

“You mean going out?” Padmé smirks, “I knew you’d love it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes playfully, “you told me so.” 

“Damn right I did.” She smiles cheekily. “You always love going out.”

“Not as much as staying at home though.” You argue as your lips curl into a smirk. 

“True, true.” 

You both talk and properly catch up, finally taking the time to hear each other's stories since the last time you’ve been able to do so was months ago. She laughs as you tell her about all your dating experiences from the past year. Your dating life is quite literally a disaster. You can’t seem to find someone in life that you can truly connect with. No matter what gender. You either end up with another friend or the dates just stay at the first date. You crave a true connection. Someone you can truly be yourself with. Someone that you can talk to about anything and everything and someone that is truly there for you.

Minutes later your eyes stray from hers for a moment as you look across the bar, your smile slowly fading as you recognise Anakin and Obi Wan stepping out of the elevator that led to the rooftop. You feel your body flush with heat as you make eye contact with Anakin. You hate the way your body reacts whenever he’s around. It’s been reacting to him a lot more lately. He looks so incredibly handsome, annoyingly so, like he always does, but the lightning makes him look even more pretty. He smiles and gives you a quick wave before he leans closer to Obi Wan. He murmurs something in his friend’s ear as he gestures to the direction Padmé and you are sitting. 

“What are they doing here?” You question as you continue to stare into their direction. 

Padmé grins sheepishly at you after she looked behind her. 

You narrow your eyes at your friend suspiciously. “You have something to do with this?”

“I may have invited them…” she flushes as she bites her lip.

“Why?” You groan.

You don’t care that you sound whiny, or that your voice sounds a bit panicked, you just don’t feel like spending a whole evening or night with Anakin Skywalker. A moment that was supposed to be relaxing. 

“Because, we both like them. They are our friends.” She exclaims.

You’re not happy, or at least you convince yourself that you aren’t. But you don’t feel like arguing with Padmé right now. You decide at that moment that the both of you deserve to have a fun evening together and if you have to spend it with Anakin too then so be it. 

“How did you let them know where we were?” You raise one of your brows at her.

“I texted them?” She looks at you as if you asked her the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Okay, yeah, stupid question.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

“You know, you could always ask for Anakin's number. I’m pretty sure he’d give it to you happily. You’re his favourite girl after all.” She smiles deviously.

You huff, shaking your head in the process. “I don’t need—”

“Hey,” Obi Wan smiles as he greets the two of you, “sorry it took us so long.”

You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, you truly hope they didn’t hear what Padmé said. You greet them with a small smile and you finally look at Anakin, finding him already looking at you. He greets you with a small “hi” as he smiles before you see his eyes scan your outfit. 

You’ve spent a good hour looking through all the clothes you brought along with you, debating which outfit would be the best for a night out. You wanted to look hot. So in the end you decided on wearing a black dress, one of those corset dresses with a deep plunge, with a thigh slit on the left side of the dress. You also have dark heels on, not too high but not that low either. You normally don’t like wearing heels, preferring your comfortable white sneakers, but Padmé insisted that wearing sneakers under such a pretty dress is a no-go. Plus you have a small black shoulder bag that’s sitting at your feet. As for your makeup, you’re wearing dark nude eyeshadow with smoked eyeliner, and on your lips you have some pinky nude shiny lip gloss. 

You feel your body grow warmer under his gaze, and you can’t help but feel a bit shy and insecure. You don’t understand why, but you kind of crave his approval.

You’re taking in his outfit. He is wearing a white button-up shirt, his chest a bit more exposed and you have to force yourself not to look too long. You don’t want him to notice that you’re looking at his chest. He’s also wearing some nice blue jeans, the kind that just look good on anyone.

Padmé calls out your name, and as you face her she is already smirking at you. You can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

Anakin clears his throat, “we’re getting drinks, do you guys need anything?” 

“No, we’re good. Thanks for asking.” Padmé smiles.

As both men leave to go to the bar, she turns to you once again. 

“What was that?” Padmé smirks with amusement. 

“What do you mean?” You mumble as you avert your eyes to your lap.

“Don’t act like you weren't staring at each other.” She says with a laugh. 

You sigh heavily, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh come on now.” She rolls her eyes playfully.

Before you can say anything back to your friend, you hear your name being called. Your eyes widen as you recognise that voice from anywhere. You quickly whip in your seat as you see one of your best friends standing there, Javier. 

“No way?” You gasp before quickly making your way over to your friend to hug him. “Is this real?” 

He chuckles as he envelopes you in a big hug. “I am very real, yes.” 

Javier is one of your closest friends besides Padmé that you’ve made since working at Aquasplash. He is a Puerto Rican exchange student that came to France to study Engineering. He worked with you for two summers straight until he moved back. You missed him terribly and hadn’t seen him for at least two and a half years. He’s always been a person that could make you feel important. He had a sense of humour that actually made you laugh. He’s one of the smartest people you’ve ever met. A lot of people think you guys have feelings for each other but all the love you have for the man is purely platonic. 

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you chuckle as you pull back to look up at him.

“I missed you too, buddy.” He smiles warmly.

“How long are you staying?” You ask him hoping he isn’t here for a couple of days.

“I’m here on vacation for at least two months, so we can hang out as much as you’d like.” 

“Ah finally, I almost thought you wouldn’t show up tonight.” Padmé says with a teasing look as she crosses her arms, still in her seat.

“You knew?” You gasp.

“Surprise?” She smiles sheepishly. The two of you laugh at her words. 

“All these secrets.” You tsk playfully as you shake your head at Padmé. 

A moment later Obi Wan and Anakin both return with drinks. The bearded man smiles brightly as he recognises your best friend.

“Oh, hi Javier,” Obi Wan says, “it’s been a long time. How have you been?”

As both Javier and Obi Wan are catching up, your eyes almost automatically drift to Anakin. His eyes are almost narrowing at how close you and Javier are standing. You look at him quizzically before he looks away and sits down across from your original seat. 

You wonder why he was looking at the both of you like that. He looked almost jealous? You’re certain that couldn’t be the case, because you’re sure he doesn’t genuinely like you or feel about you in a romantic way. Besides, it’s not like you care. You don’t have much time to think about it, because Padmé gestures to you to come back to your seat, patting the space next to hers.

Once you are back in your seat your brown haired friend leans closer to you. “Javier looks so good.” Padmé whispers, loud enough for you to hear.

You snort, soon turning into a chuckle. 

“Yeah?” You ask with an amused smile. 

“Yeah,” she says as she bites her lip, hiding her shy smile. 

“Oh, do you have a crush?” Your smile turns more wicked.

“Shut up.” She groans as she slaps your arm. 

“Oh my god, you do.” You gasp.

“Quiet down,” She whispers as she looks around her, making sure that no one else hears them.

You giggle at her antics. “It’s okay, I think he has a crush on you too.”

“Really? You think so?” She asks with hopeful eyes.

Your smile turns soft as you nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. He tends to always look like a lovesick puppy around you.”

“You’re lying.” She pouts as she blushes furiously.

“Of course not.” You say as you look at her seriously. 

“Hmh,” she looks at you in disbelief. As if you’re still not being truthful with her.

“Don’t tell him I told you this but,” you whisper as you look around you before continuing, “he talked about you a lot whenever we would hang out.” 

You wouldn’t expose your friend like that if it wasn’t for a greater cause. You’re tired of the fact that two of your closest friends are pining after each other. Especially since now you know that Padmé has feelings for Javier too. 

“No way.” Her eyes go wide at the information. 

“Yes way.” You nod with a smile.

“Okay,” she bites her lip as the blush on her cheeks turns darker. “You think I should make a move?”

“Definitely, I think you should.”

A couple of moments later, Javier comes to sit next to Padmé. “What are you two talking about?”

You lean closer to the side as you make eye contact with your other friend. “Nothing you should concern yourself with.” You say quickly with the most saccharine smile ever. 

“Rude,” he pouts dramatically. “Is this how you treat your best friend who you haven’t seen in over two years?” 

You stick your tongue at him playfully in response. 

After a few drinks and the night turning darker, as the stars in the sky become more visible, the air is still quite warm, you start to feel extremely at ease. Conversations flowed easily with all of you and it was truly a good feeling to be talking to everyone. Even Anakin. Especially him. 

You’ve all been talking for almost two hours. And in those two hours, you’ve learned a lot about Anakin. Just like Javier, he’s studying engineering. The only difference is he's still studying abroad. He lives in Amsterdam apparently, which is your dream city to one day move into. He would laugh in such a sweet way as your eyes would widen at the information or your interest in the city. Would answer all your questions about one of your favourite cities in the world. 

Or how you learned how much he loves to read during his free time. Or his favourite music, specifically how he is a huge fan of Coldplay. He loves all kinds of music. He said he can’t stick to one music genre. There’s so much more that you’ve learned about him.

The more you know about him, the less you dislike him. The less he irritates you. Maybe after all this time, the irritation was something else entirely, buried under the false pretence of dislike. Most likely it was just pure jealousy. You used to genuinely like him. He always makes you feel things in such a furious way. He makes you think about him constantly. No, you know that deep down it wasn’t just jealousy, it was more than that. 

You know something has changed for you. What exactly, you don’t want to face yet. For now, you blame the atmosphere. Something in the air is making things shift around, feel different.

It’s only after you’ve emptied your second or third cocktail, you honestly have no idea, that Javier announces that all of you should do a game of truth or dare.

It’s as if the universe wants to play with you.

“Oh my god, no.” You groan.

“What’s up princess?” Anakin says with a teasing  smile. “You got anything to hide?” 

“W-what? No, of course not.” You stutter as you feel your body burn hot at his words.

“He does have a point.” Javier says as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“You should be on my side!” You exclaim dramatically. 

Padmé snorts next to you.

You turn to look at Padmé, narrowing your eyes at her. “What about you?”

“I mean…” she shrugs as she tries to fight off the smirk on her face.

“Great.” You turn to look across from you, ignoring the way Anakin is smiling mischievously as he looks at you. “I guess I don’t have to ask for your thoughts on this?” You ask Obi Wan.

The man shrugs and you huff.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”

You groan at his words.

“Come on, don’t be so dramatic.” Javier laughs. You look at him in a fake menacing way which makes your friend laugh even more. “Alright, alright. I will spare you, for now.” He gives you a look that says nothing but danger.

“How generous of you.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“You’re first,” your best friend says as he looks at you. “You get to choose whoever you want.”

“Nice,” you say with a devilish grin. You’re thankful that you have some time to mentally prepare yourself for once it’s your turn. Because you are certain that if it’s Padmé’s or Javier’s turn that you’re doomed. 

“Uh-oh,” Padmé says with apprehension. 

“Javier,” you start, the man groaning loudly at the mention of his name. “Ok, hold on, why am I not allowed to be dramatic but you are?”

“I’m not being dramatic.” He scoffs, as if you had the audacity to accuse him of such a thing.

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes. “Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” he picks unhesitatingly.

You snicker at his choice. You pretend to think for a second before you clear your throat, “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in our group.”

Javier’s eyebrows rise together at your bold request. While Padmé blushes bright red next to you. Obi Wan is smirking as he looks at your two best friends. Anakin on the other hand, is frowning. You have no idea why though.

“Is that the dare?” He hesitates.

“Yep,” you smile brightly. 

“You sure?” He questions again.

You sigh heavily. “Javier, you’re the one that wanted to play this game.” 

He gulps before he looks down at the brown haired girl who sits in between the two of you. He moves closer to Padmé, cupping her cheek. “Is this okay?” Javier checks in with her. 

Padmé nods her head shyly but without any hesitation. He says something under his breath that you can’t seem to catch before his lips connect with hers in a gentle kiss. Her arms move instantly, as she wraps them around his neck. 

You whistle as the kiss between them gets a bit more deeper. Eventually they pull away as they gasp for air. Their foreheads are touching as they look at each other with small satisfied smiles. 

“Finally.” You clap your hands as you smile with so much happiness, because your friends finally made a move on each other. You might’ve pushed them into the right direction, but you’re happy that they are showing their affection for each other now.

“You’re dangerous, girl.” Padmé laughs as she turns her head to look at you. But she looks truly thankful for what you did.

“Just doing God’s work.” You say with feigned innocence as you shrug. 

“Before we continue, who wants another drink?” Obi Wan asks the rest of you as he stands up from his seat.

“Me!” You say a bit too quickly and loudly as you stand up from your seat, adjusting your dress as it rides up.

Obi Wan chuckles. He asks the rest of the group what they want as you write down everything down on your notes app so you don’t forget. 

Once you have the orders down, you both make your way to the bar. You feel a pair of eyes on you as you walk away. A chill goes down your spine as you have a feeling who is looking at you. In fact you know you don’t have to turn your head to know that it’s most likely Anakin.

As you reach the bar, you lean over it and try to get one of the bartender's attention. It’s a bit busy, three other people are trying to order at the same time. One of them gives you a nod of acknowledgement, before he comes down to where you two are. Once he takes your order and you’ve paid for it, and leaves, Obi Wan clears his throat.

You raise your head, to look at him expectantly. “Hmm?”

“You know, I’m aware of how frustrated you are that Anakin got the assistant manager position and that you didn’t.” He says carefully. “They picked him because they felt like he was the most qualified.”

You feel slight irritation but mostly embarrassment bubbling up inside you at his words. As you’re about to open your mouth he continues.

“But I feel as if I am inclined to tell you this though.” He starts, “Anakin had a lot of other proposals from other workplaces for summer, other than Aquasplash. A lot of better ones actually. But still, he decided to take on this one.” 

Your mouth drops slightly at the new information. Why would he want to come back every year if he had better places to work at. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone knows that Anakin is insanely smart and talented. Plus, why would he travel so far just to work at a place every summer with a person like you. Someone that’s been rude to him most of the time. 

“Why?” You frown.

“Why do you think so?” He asks with a small smile. 

You laugh, still puzzled as you shake your head “I don’t know?”

“Sure,” he says as he gives you a look.

Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed as you think about all the moments where Anakin’s always been nice to you, even when you’re nothing but an asshole to him. The way he always tries to catch your attention. Trying to make you laugh. Or the way he loves to spend time with you even if you’re being mean to him. How playful he is. How he loves to tease you or how he seems to only have eyes for you lately. For years actually. Or when his smile would either brighten or soften whenever you enter the room or space he’s in. Or the longing looks he would give you sometimes. 

No. You must be imagining things. 

Your eyes widen as you look at Obi Wan again. You search for a reaction that tells you that you’re wrong. But he just smiles at you knowingly.

You don’t know how or why your feelings for Anakin seem to have shifted so much, all you know is that any trace of hatred you had towards him has disappeared, wiped away to make room for something else. Deep down, you know that this was all just a facade. You’re never truly angry with him. You never disliked him. It was all an act to protect how you always truly cared for or liked him. The feelings you so desperately tried to push away, a feeling that could only be described by a four lettered word. A feeling that might have been around for a long while.

And you’re sure you ruined everything, because you’re such an asshole. 

Suddenly you feel a tightness in your chest. Your breath is turning shallow and ragged and you hear your ears start ringing. It feels as if the sky could be falling down on you any second.

Concern flashes through Obi Wan’s face as he notices a shift in your behaviour.

“Are you okay?”

“I—” you try to speak. “I-I need to go. I’m sorry.” You say hurriedly before you walk away as fast as you can, in need for a moment to be alone.

“Hey, wait,” he calls your name out.

You don’t know why you always feel like running away whenever you’re confronted with something big like your feelings but you know you can’t look or speak to anyone at the moment.

You desperately need to be alone even if it is just for a little while. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t know how, but somehow, you ended up at the beach. The moment you leave the building your phone has been vibrating non stop, not reducing your anxiety at all. So once you sit down on the sand you put your phone on silent after sending one message to Padmé that you’re safe, ignoring all the other texts and missed calls. 

You didn’t stray that far from the bar, which isn’t that far from the coast, only a couple of hundred metres.

Your mind starts to wander back to Anakin, the man that you so desperately tried to dislike for years. Which was all a facade for how you truly feel.

You think about how the fact that the one person that you’ve ever fallen in love with deserves better than someone like you that has been mean to him for years all because of something so stupid. 

You wish you could go back in time, so you never held a grudge in the first place. So you could actually allow yourself to enjoy being around him, to think of him. 

You groan as you feel tears well in your eyes again as the thoughts consume you almost completely. 

“Things will be okay,” you whisper to yourself as you try to regulate your breathing while also mentally calming yourself down. 

You decide to focus on the sea.

Looking at the sea somehow never fails to calm you down, the sound of the body of water grounds you. As you watch the waves crash every time they hit the shore, you feel your anxiety gradually dying down.

You dig your bare feet in the sand, your heels long forgotten as they sit next to you. At the moment you don’t really care that you'll be covered in sand by the time you leave. The beach, specifically this one, brings you so much nostalgia. 

Brings you back to when you were a child.

You briefly close your eyes as you inhale the smell of the sea, exhaling a couple of moments later, releasing a bit of anxiety at the motion. You smile as you feel your body gradually relaxing as more tension dissipates, finally feeling a bit more at peace.

A couple of moments later after you feel your anxiety die down, you feel someone’s presence as they come to sit next to you. 

Unhurriedly you open your eyes again before turning your head slowly. Your eyes widen as you acknowledge who is sitting next to you. As your eyes meet Anakin’s you notice that he is already staring down at you. He’s looking at you with so much concern and an emotion that looks so tender. There’s a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes as he continues to regard you.

Your bottom lip starts wobbling as you squeeze your eyes shut as you desperately try not to cry. 

“I’m so sorry.” You finally break the silence as tears well in your eyes again as you look at him.

“Hey, shhh sweetheart, there’s no need to apologise.” He whispers as one of his hands comes to squeeze your shoulder. His touch sparks a warmth in your body, just like he did earlier that day.

“Yes there is.” You whisper as you look away, your tears falling freely now. 

“Look at me angel,” he says softly. 

He is so caring and gentle with you, you feel awful, you don’t deserve that after being so horrible with him.

“No, I’m serious,” you say as you try to wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry for being mean to you.”

You’re crying more now, the tears streaming down your cheeks constantly, your make up leaving some tracks because of it. 

“Sweet girl,” He says as his hands come to cup your face, holding you so tenderly, as his thumbs swipe at the tears that fall from your eyes. Your sad eyes look at him as he tries to comfort you. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. All because of something as stupid as a job position.” You whisper as you continue to cry.

“Princess, are you upset because of that?” 

“Yeah, it’s so stupid.” You nod, as you keep sobbing. “I feel so stupid. I’ve never really disliked you, it was all just bullshit. A fucking facade. And for so long I believed I didn’t like you. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“Shhh, I’m telling you right now, It’s okay, you’re not stupid. I know you feel that way right now but you’re not stupid at all. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I am not upset or angry with you, I don’t think I could.” He says as he quickly moves to wrap his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. “I’ve got you, love.”

Every time your body shakes, he holds you tighter. Eventually pulling you into his lap, as you cling to him, your hands holding onto his shirt as if you are afraid that he’d disappear. His face is buried in your hair, yours against his chest as he holds you close.

One of his hands moves to caress your head softly, as the other holds your body close to him. As his fingers continue to caress your head you find yourself being comforted by it, your sobs eventually dying down as you feel yourself relax and calm down while hugging him. 

His embrace soothes you. Anakin is truly such a  comforting person, you could hold him forever.

You slowly pull away from his chest after you’ve completely calmed down, enough to look up at him. As you stare into his eyes, you feel yourself get lost in them. He is truly, so beautiful. 

Before you realise what you’re doing, you raise one of your hands to his cheek. He closes his eyes momentarily at your touch, relishing it. Once he opens his eyes again, he watches you intently, his cheeks flushing red. You feel his heart racing while your other hand rests on his chest still. 

“Anakin,” you whisper, looking shyly up at him.

He smiles at that. “I will never get tired of you saying my name.”

“Well, I haven't really said it much.” You bite your lip as you try to keep yourself from smiling. Of course, it’s not successful.

“True, but still.” He chuckles, “I will always enjoy you saying it.”

“Hm,” you hum as your eyes shift to his lips every few seconds, “I have something to confess.”

You need to confess your feelings to him. You’ve been hiding them for years, even from yourself, now it was enough. You need him to know, even if he doesn’t feel the same way, even if you misunderstood the whole thing. He deserves the truth.

“Go ahead,” he says as his eyes bore into yours, the intensity making you unable to look away. You’re both breathing in each other's air at the moment. You feel as if you’re being pulled by a magnet, your face slowly moving closer to his.

You feel your body get overwhelmed with warmth, as you mentally prepare yourself to tell him how you feel.

“I’m in love with you,” you say nervously, your confession barely above a whisper. Time stands still in that moment, your faces only a few inches apart, his arms still holding you tight against him, one of your hands resting on his cheek and the other still on his heart. “I think I always have.”

His breath hitches at your words, leaving him momentarily speechless. He looks as if he’s processing the words. Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching for you to pull back or show any other sign of not wanting him close. 

He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you hold in a sigh at the thought of him being so close to you, the heat of his skin radiating off of him, his scent intoxicating you and filling your senses. 

The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few centimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin.

“I love you baby,” he whispers, making you still your movement on his cheek as you look at him with wide eyes. Heat spreads throughout your body and your heart flutters at his words, your cheeks feeling hot. “You have no idea how much I do.” 

“I love you too, Ani.” You say shyly. The moment his nickname leaves your lips, his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you with so much passion, pouring all his affection into the kiss as he holds you tightly. The kiss reflects how much he cares and loves you. 

You gasp into his mouth, feeling him as he moves his lips with yours and pulls your body somehow impossibly closer to his, as if he’s not satisfied enough, needing you as close as you physically can. He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth.

He moves one of his hands to come to cup your cheek as the other keeps you close, pressing you against him. He tilts his head as you moan into the kiss, deepening it.

He feels and tastes amazing, his touches feel heavenly, just perfect. You know that you will get addicted to him quickly. 

Nevermind, you already are.

He moans into the kiss, completely losing himself to the feeling, his warm tongue swirls in your mouth as his soft lips still move with yours. He is better than you ever imagined, his big hands gentle yet firm, his kisses overwhelming you. 

You feel the temperature rising between you two. Eventually you have to pull away as you gasp for air. Your forehead rests against his as you both breathe in some fresh air. 

His lips then move to your jaw, travelling all over as he presses soft kisses.  “Do you want to go back?” He whispers as he nuzzles his head against your neck. 

“No, I’d rather stay here all night with you.” You giggle as he then resumes to pepper kisses on your skin. As his kisses become more intimate, moving from your jaw to your neck, your giggles soon turn into little whimpers and moans. 

“Good,” he whispers, his voice sounding much deeper than earlier, before his mouth moves up, his lips trailing towards yours to envelop them in another kiss. 

Reuniting your mouths, Anakin kisses you deeply, his hands busying themselves with tracing your body above your clothes. You can feel one of them slowly going down beneath your arms, softly grasping at your hips and down your legs, on the way back up finding themselves beneath the dress you are wearing.

You move your hips against him instinctively, without a thought, grinding down on him, which makes him pull away with a groan. 

He moves back just enough to press his forehead to yours again. The two of you breathe in each other’s exhales, lips still almost touching as he finally speaks.

“Baby girl, you’ll be the death of me.” He rasps.

You feel your body flush with warmth at his words. Heat pools in your lower body. You bite your lip before giggling, you start peppering his cheeks, jaw and neck with kisses as you grind your hips against him again. 

His hands come to hold your hips, halting your movements. You whine as he holds you back, pouting up at him.

“Oh princess, don’t be like that.” He looks at you pointedly.

“But—”

“I’d love to continue whatever is happening right now, but not here.” He whispers the last part. 

You bite your lip as you try to hide your smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. Your hands come to tug at the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to you. “Then take me home big boy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You both stumble into your apartment once you unlock the door after the fourth attempt. It’s hard to unlock anything when someone as hot as Anakin, or an amazing kisser like him, keeps distracting you with kisses. 

You giggle against his lips as you finally kick your heels off. Your feet are eternally grateful once you’re out of them. You sigh with relief as you feel your body relax instantly. 

“Man, I hate sand.” He laughs as he also kicks off his own shoes. 

You chuckle at his words, “Of course you do.”

When Anakin moves his body to meet you again he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. You borrow your head against his chest, nuzzling against his shirt. You’re certain that soon you’ll get addicted to his affection, as if you want him to drown you in it.

“I love you so much,” you whisper against him.

Anakin, pulls away just enough to look down on you. One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, his touch so gentle.

“Will you say it again, sweetheart?” He pleads as he looks at you with adoration. “I just need to hear it again, please.”

You smile warmly up at him, before you stand slightly on the tip of your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Anakin.”

Anakin traces your face with his fingertips. Pushing the loose strands of your hair out of your face, he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. Pulling back just as fast as he kissed you, “I love you too.”

He laughs as you chase his lips instantly. 

“You’re laughing at me?” You gasp, feigning shock. 

“No, sweetheart.” You pout up at him as he continues to chuckle.

“Yes you are.” You pull away from his touch with a dramatic huff.

“Come on baby, you know I wouldn’t.” 

“Oh do I?” You say as you pretend to think about it for a second. 

He laughs again, as his arms come to wrap your body close to his once again. You feel yourself melt in his embrace, feeling safe and at home.

As much as you love being hugged, you crave more. 

“Ani?” you whisper. He pulls away just slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He says as he grasps your hands and kisses your knuckles, heat enveloping you instantly. You feel your body get all warm and mushy at the affection.

“I… want you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He halts his movements at your words, his eyes searching yours. “You want me?” He smiles softly down at you. 

“Please,” you beg as you lean up to trace your lips with his, “I want and need you. I’ve always wanted you.” You press your lips against the corner of his mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck. You look deeply into his eyes, as you continue. “It’s always been you,  Ani. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My heart has always belonged to you.”

The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes are glazed over, clouded with lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips envelop yours in a loving but lustful kiss.

His mouth moves, slow and oh so passionate. Anakin kisses you like he has all the time in the world. You love the feel of his lips on yours, you could kiss Anakin all day. So soft and yet so full of passion. He tilts his head a millimetre to fit against you better and you unconsciously perk up on your toes to reach more of him.

You part your lips slightly to catch your breath, inhaling slowly as you taste him and only him. His tongue sweeps across your lips making you whimper. His wet muscle wraps itself against yours a moment later, hot and wet and steady as he tastes your mouth and kisses you deeply.

More warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other. You’re quite certain that your lacy underwear is ruined by now.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands try to find purchase on his arms. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet as both of his hands travel from your waist to your ass, squeezing it in his hands and pushing your body closer to him. 

“I’ve loved you for so long.” He whispers against your lips, his hands moving up to hold you. “Sweetheart, you’re my everything.”

You feel drowsy and hot all over, your mind all over the place, your heart beating insanely fast. You’re breathless and Anakin laughs softly as he takes in your state. You need this man so bad.

His mouth trails down your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses all over your skin, leaving you a whimpering mess.

“Ani,” you whine as you subconsciously rub your thighs together.

“I got you, kitten.” He whispers in your ear. You whimper at the pet name while he moves one of his  legs, sliding between your legs. You mewl as he presses his jeans-covered thigh against your covered heat which has you clinging onto him.

“P-please, I—” you stutter.

His hands move to your hips, guiding your body to move against him. The friction against your pussy has you moaning and you start to rub yourself against it.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groans as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric.

Anakin lifts his head and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your body is trembling as he devours your mouth and continues to guide your movements. The man of your dreams is wrapped around you completely, a hand tracing your back, the other holding your hips.

“Pleaaase, need more.” You whine against his mouth, “I need you.”

Suddenly, he lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him instinctively. The passionate kisses don’t stop as he carries you and looks for your bedroom. Once he reaches your bed he places you gently down the sheets.

The bed dips before he hovers over you. He looks at you intensely as his hands move to your thighs, spreading them so he can fit between them. You whimper against his lips as his fingertips trace the skin of your thighs.

“Anakin, wait.” You say nervously. 

He stops his movements instantly, as he looks at you with concern. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” 

“Nothings wrong Ani,” you nibble at your bottom lip as you look at him. “I just, I’ve never done this before. Being intimate, I mean. I want you, I do, I just wanted to let you know.”

“Sweet girl,” he whispers as he looks at you tenderly, with so much love. “Baby, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” 

A small smile forms on your lips at his words, and you nod. Anakin leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your body relaxes completely at the action. His lips move, all over your face, placing soft kisses on every piece of skin. 

“Ani,” you giggle before chasing his lips. As your lips connect with his again, your arms wrap around his neck, your hands tangled in his hair. His lips are so soft and swollen. You’ve kissed each other so much tonight that you almost can’t feel your lips anymore. The kiss is like velvet against yours, and as his mouth moves, delicate and slow, you can’t help but sigh into the kiss.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you detach your lips from his, moving to pepper kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw, your lips tracing the edge. Instantly, Anakin’s hands drop to your thighs again, his hands tracing the skin then moves higher underneath your dress, towards your ass before pulling you flush against him. You writhe underneath him, your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge.

Your mouth parts, as you keep grinding against him, as breathy moans leave your lips. 

Anakin sits up, quickly removing his shirt, discarding it somewhere in your room. Then moves back closer. He dips his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his soft lips tenderly roaming over the skin. 

“A-Ani,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, you mewl. More wetness pools at your core, growing more wet as he takes care of you.

You sigh under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.

Anakin runs his nose down the column of your throat before tracing the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches the crook of your neck again, he bites down softly, making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet muscle gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. He pulls away just a bit as he mutters “I want you too, baby girl.”

“Then do it, take me.” You groan almost impatiently.

Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss, desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. He dips his head down almost automatically, as he chases your own, he slides his tongue inside your mouth and you react instantly, gliding yours against his.

Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other, hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. You move your hips desperately as you moan against his lips, hoping that he will get the hint. 

“So needy,” he groans against your mouth.

Anakin’s large palms push under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Unhesitatingly, he presses his hand to your covered folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a strangled cry.

Soft whines spill from your lips, you grind into his hand unconsciously, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds over the fabric. The wetness between your thighs is uncomfortable. As he rubs your throbbing clit, you feel your hips stutter at the action. He groans as he feels more wetness at your entrance.

“Such a wet pussy, is this all for me angel?”

You nod frantically, but Anakin doesn’t seem satisfied enough.

“Come on, be a good girl and use your words.” He taunts with a smirk.

“Yes, all yours.” You manage to whimper, your voice sounding strangled and pathetic, as he applies pressure on your clit. “Only yours.”

“That’s my good girl,” he says with a grin. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up slightly. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your dress.

You feel your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roam all over your half naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. Growing wetter under his heavy stare, your inner walls clench around nothing. You feel your heart picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his once again.

“So beautiful.” He whispers as his hands trace your skin.

His lips then crash against yours as you gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and take it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your pussy, this time underneath your panties. His mouth leaves yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

“You’re so fucking wet, kitten.” Anakin groans as he drops his head to your shoulder, as he runs his soft lips over your flesh, peppering kisses onto your skin. 

His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Anakin breathes in through his nose, a flash of heat warms you up at his words and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

That’s all he says before he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks passionately, then he pushes one of his fingers inside your pussy. 

The slight stretch causes your walls to contract, and as he pushes further into you, your cunt practically swallows the length. Feeling you grip his finger, he detaches his lips from your breast.

“Fuck— such a tight pussy,” he hisses. “I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like, but I never thought it’d be this good,”

Your soft noises of ecstasy become louder as the pleasure overwhelms you. His tongue starts licking again, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand keeps pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. His tongue swirls around your nipple, tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it.

You whine as your core starts clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groans against your skin. Anakin’s lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips another finger inside you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.

“Ah fuck, daddy.” You whimper in a daze, not realising what spilled from your lips.

He groans and moves his face back up, to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good kitty, doing so well for daddy.” He pants against your lips.

Your breath hitches at his words, bucking your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. Of course he notices and slips a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. 

Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You feel so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, knowing that he’s probably massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips move back to kiss you, as you whine against his mouth. Your hands clutch his shoulders as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.

“Does that feel good, baby girl?” Anakin moans at the moment he connects his thumb with your little pulsing clit. “My love, do you love it when I play with your little pussy?” He rubs your bundle of nerves at the same pace as he fucks your tight walls. You buck your hips, moaning as you nod at his words. “Use your words, kitten.” He tuts.

You writhe against the sheets as you mewl. “Fuck! Yes, please, please, Ani. It feels so good.”

Anakin leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. Instinctively, you feel your legs spread even more open for him as you feel yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slips easily into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at his hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“F-fuck, I need you so bad.” He groans as his thumb applies more pressure on your little nub. He curls his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.

His eyes stare into yours, lust and adoration written all over them. Once he fastens his motions inside you again, you moan and squeeze your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen makes you arch your back beneath him.

“Come for me, my baby.”

You open your eyes slowly, locking eyes with him. His intense gaze is what it takes for you to come undone. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand as you gasp loudly.

“Doing so well for me princess,” he says proudly, smiling as his fingers slow as you come down from your high. 

As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. You feel your pussy clench around nothing every now and there, your wetness dripping down the sheets, which makes you whimper helplessly.

Anakin climbs off the bed, as he makes quick work to remove all of his clothing. You are still in a daze, closing your eyes for a moment.

Once he removes the rest of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massing them in his hands. You whimper, it’s too much, everything is too much. You feel so hot as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head once again, running your fingers through his hair as he breathes onto one of your nipples.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says softly against your skin.

Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while he pushes your body back against the bed. His lips travel all the way down to your hips making you whine and beg silently for more.

A mischievous smile plays on Anakin’s lips as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. “You smell so good, I am sure you taste just as good, if not better.” He groans before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him, truly speechless someone could make this look so hot. Anakin keeps looking at you as he slides down your body, pulling it off you when it reaches your ankles.

Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. Anakin smiles as he kisses all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you need. He presses soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands move along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moves up your legs.

His lips linger on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.

“P-please Ani, baby, I need you…” you practically beg, so desperate for him to finally give you what you desperately want.

“I love it when you beg for me kitten,” he whispers against the flesh of your thigh before his lips move higher making your breath hitch. His fingers move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides two fingers inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.

“Mmmm you’re so wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my fingers,” he says before he presses some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“God, d-daddy… please move your fingers or anything. I just. I need you so baaa—” your whining gets cut off once you feel his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan from your throat. “F-fuck!”

You feel like screaming, you don’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Anakin’s giving you already. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his fingers before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage and sucking your button into his mouth.

You feel your body trembling terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.

Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

You grab a random pillow as you hold it against your face to muffle your loud noises while your hips move along with the pace of his fingers. A moment later you feel him grab the pillow and remove it from your face, you whine as he drops it next to your body.

“I want to hear you, my sweet girl, don’t hide your pretty face and moans from me.” He says against your wetness as he curls his fingers inside you, playing with the sensitive spot inside you.

“A-ah, Ani, daddy please. I-I need more.” You moan desperately underneath him. You are squirming, it is so good you can barely even figure out what he is doing with his tongue.

Anakin slowly removes his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss. He chuckles against you, heat spreading all over your body at the action. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Loud incoherent noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming at the feel of his tongue moving around your entrance and Anakin just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out in your bed, and it feels so so good.

Slipping his tongue finally into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, you practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your head swims from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you continue to writhe underneath him. You can feel the tight coil in your stomach, ready to snap.

“P-please, please. Ani, I’m so c-close.” You squeak when he starts thrusting his tongue in and out of you just like his fingers that had been doing it earlier before, your body trembling as you try to grind your hips into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name.

“Come on baby, come for me,” Anakin says against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. Your trembling hands reach for his head, tugging lightly at his longer dark blonde strands, while moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue. As he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.

With a bit more pressure on your clit you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier. 

The orgasm you’re experiencing feels so intense, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. You feel your pussy gushing against his lips, feeling more wetness slipping out of your entrance as Anakin moans against your cunt. You take in some deep shaky breaths, trying to gasp for air as you come down from your high. Your body trembles heavily as you try to come back to your senses. 

You feel Anakin’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth feels heavenly, but you whine at the sensitivity. He moans as he licks against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance again.

“‘S too much.” You whimper at the overstimulation.

Anakin ignores your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continues to eat you out. The man you adore so much between your legs keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucks the nub softly between his lips. 

The walls of your pussy clench furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickles out of you, your core practically begging to be filled.

You begin grinding your hips against his face as moans keep spilling off your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He remarks as he presses a kiss to your clit. 

Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance again, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encourages him to do it again and again.

You are a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. As if his name is the only word that you know at the moment. Your hips move against his face as you continue to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. 

Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers are once again gripping onto his dark blonde hair rather harshly and your hips push against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Please,” you beg. You’re so, so close. You just need a little bit more to climax.

“Come,” he whispers his demand against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb comes up to press against your little bundle of nerves. You come with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turns white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers are tightly woven through Anakin’s hair and your hips push so far against his face, you think you are almost suffocating him.

As you slowly come down to reality again and you try to catch your breath, you hear him praising you softly while he continues to lap at your wetness gently, until you whine and nudge him away with your leg because the overstimulation is getting too much for you. Finally Anakin detaches his mouth from your pussy.

He quickly licks the wetness off his lips before he crawls back up to you with a smirk, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moan at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, your arms wrap around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sigh happily, against his mouth, you feel yourself melting in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

“You did so good for me, baby. My good girl.” He whispers against you. 

You pull away to look down between your bodies. He’s incredibly long, insanely so, and somehow even thicker, its rigid girth intimidating against your body. His shaft throbs under your gaze and you can’t help but fixate on it, you swallow thickly at the sight of it, the walls of your cunt constricting around nothing.

You can’t help but wonder if it was even possible to fit inside you. 

His lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “Care to share what you’re thinking?”

“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.

Anakin chuckles and you can’t help but pout at the sound of his soft laughter. “Baby, I’m not making fun of you. I swear.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t worry, it will fit.”

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. You’re whimpering and moaning as you move. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, baby,” Anakin groans, and it’s because he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Every single time his tip rubs against your hole you tremble more. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

“Please, daddy.” You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You are still extremely wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock makes you wetter. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

His broad body covers your own smaller body with his. You can’t help but love how bigger and taller he is than you. You feel so small under his large body, but in a good way. You’ve always had a thing for much taller guys. You love how sexy he is; his deep voice, his big hands, his large, muscular, sweaty body. You love hearing him call you his baby, his princess, his love, all the loving names he comes up with for you. You love how he treats you, how he has always treated you. He makes you feel safe and so loved. 

You are trembling against him, filled with anticipation. You writhe against him, wishing he was just filling your pussy up already.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes. “I’ll try to be as gentle and as slow as I can, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promises you.

You whine and nod, not trusting your voice at the moment, as you rub your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he moans, “I need you to use your words baby.”

“Okay,” you whisper breathlessly. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart, so much.”

He leans back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands leans down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your entrance. You arch your back slightly and whimper loudly out of frustration.

“P-please—” your whine gets cut off at the feel of him applying pressure at your tight hole.

Anakin slides the tip in such a slow way it is agonising. At first he struggles to enter the tight, unused walls of your virginal pussy. Your lips part with a cry. He is so careful, like he is afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. 

You whine at the stretch of him. He is so huge. Your tight pussy clenches around him as it tries to accommodate his massive girth. He continues to push more of his cock inside you. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping that the distraction and the kisses will soften the sting.

“Fuck, how are you so tight.” Anakin moans against your mouth, almost undone by the tight embrace of your velvet walls around his cock.

His hips still once he hears your strangled gasp. “Wha— it’s not m-me. Ah, fuck. You’re just huge.”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiles tenderly as he looks down at you.

“M-more?” You stammer with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly.

“Please,” You flutter your eyes close and whine as you nod. You grip the bed sheets between your fingers as you beg him for more.

“Good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continues to pulse and clench around his cock as he moves deeper inside you.

Once he bottoms out, you feel his tip kiss your cervix. Anakin lets his body rest against yours as he allows you to adjust to his size. You feel extremely full, as if he is made for you, and only you. A sudden feeling of completeness overtakes you, the sense of wholeness overwhelming you.

The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them together as the other one reaches up to your face.

His breathing is heavy as you squeeze his cock constantly. Small whimpers spill from your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You need more.

You slowly open your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Ani.”

“You need me to move baby?” He asks gently, as his thumb swipes over your bottom lip.

“Yes, please.” You beg as your pussy clenches around his thickness rather hard which makes him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He nods before he starts moving slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds onto your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphes into a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. 

He moans as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groans.

A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.

Anakin’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand moving to rest on your back, under your body, as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.

“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he nuzzles his face against your neck.

You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is giving you. Your legs shoot out, wrapping them around his hips, and your heels dig into the fleshy globes of Anakin’s ass, pulling him deeper into you.

“Feeling good my sweet girl?” He moans, a small smile forming on his lips as he watches your face contort in pure pleasure.

His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. Suddenly everything feels too much. It is just too much for you to handle.

He quickens his pace, his hips snapping up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this me, isn’t it, kitten?”

You can only moan his name repeatedly in response. His hands can’t seem to get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil is tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he admires you, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck— I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you whimper at the thought of him filling you up with his cum. As your thoughts start to wander, things that you shouldn’t be thinking of yet, all because the thought of him filling you up with his cum has your thoughts going feral. It has you involuntarily clenching around him. (You try to store that fantasy for later.) “Please daddy, fill this pussy up.”

He groans as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Fervently, the two of you rock into each other, chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. You crave his kisses, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin moving against each other leisurely.

One of his hands slides between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together.

“You want to cum, sweetheart?” 

You nod frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bite your lip harshly. “Please, f-fuck. Need it so bad.”

“Cum for me, baby,” Anakin urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers caress your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you at the brink of your climax.

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Your whole body trembles, squirming underneath him as you come undone. You held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him. 

Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Anakin moans deeply.

“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Going to fill this pussy up, until it’s full and messy.”

His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.

He moans loudly, as he comes inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you catch your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

You feel him soften inside you, and as soon as you feel him move to pull out, you whine in protest wrapping your legs around him to prevent him from leaving you yet.

“Stay.” You whisper against his lips.

Anakin lets out a breathless chuckle at that.

“We need to clean you up.”

“Right now?” You whine again.

“Yeah,” he smiles as you pout. “How about this, I will clean you up and then we can cuddle as much as you want.”

“Will you stay?” You continue to pout.

“Yes, if my girl wants me to stay I will.” He smiles down at you, looking at you with so much love.

“Oh really?” You grin at him. “Am I your girl?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yes, of course. Who else?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” You giggle before you press a soft kiss at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, you’re mine. Just like I’m yours. Completely.” Then his head moves just slightly, to capture your lips in another deep and loving kiss. As you lose yourself in the kiss, you don’t really notice as he softly unhooks your legs from around him. Moments later he pulls out as gently as possible.

You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth, and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but squirm. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out of you, causing you to mewl in pleasure, your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. 

Anakin sits back on his heels, his eyes drop to your pussy, a low groan falls from his lips. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Or how your pussy clenches around nothing every now and then. His chest swells with pride, and he can’t help but smile lazily.

Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. He presses a kiss to your knee in apology after he pulls his hand away.

“Come on baby,” he chuckles as he moves off the bed, taking you along with him. You whine as you realise that you’ll have to come along with him, leaving your soft bed.

“What? I thought you were gonna clean me up?” You pout. Your legs wobble a bit, your body aching as he tugs you to the adjacent bathroom of your bedroom.

“I changed my mind.” He smiles cheekily.

You raise your brow at him, looking at him suspiciously as he guides them into her shower. 

“If you think that we’re gonna do anything but clean ourselves then you’re mistaken mister.” You poke his chest playfully.

“I know,” he winks before he turns the shower on. Immediately, water shoots from the shower head mounted to the wall, the spray wetting your arm. 

Once you’re both cleaned, which took a while because you did more than just clean; lots of kisses and touches were shared, both of you finally crawled back into bed. The night is filled with lots of talking, laughter, your kisses, cuddling, more noises of pleasure and all the love you both share for one another. You know that you’ll never get tired of loving Anakin, regardless of how new your romantic relationship is. And you know he feels the same way about you too. You’re tired of running away, tired of pushing your true feelings away. Finally allowing yourself to be truly happy with the love you have for the man that adores you just as much.

He’s your medicine.

[krirebr]

For Krismas - what would Steve have done in “What you can do for your country” if once reader found out whyyyy she was there she was totally into it?!?!?!

Ahahahahaha! I love this. Thank you!

Short answer: He'd be so annoyed.

Slightly longer answer:

(This has no title because the original title is from a JFK quote 😂 and I'm saving the rest of that quote for a hypothetical prequel I may write one day and I just couldn't make anything else work. I think it's fine, this is super short anyway.)

(This might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever written.)

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Warnings: references to noncon/dubcon, references to face slapping, references to kidnapping, explicit language, dacryphilia

Your cheek stings so badly and Steve’s looking at you with this combination of menace and authority and you just can’t hold it in any longer. “Ohhhh,” you moan, “yeah, please. Hurt me, daddy.”

He stops cold, “What?”

“Come on, please. I need it. Please. You’ll make it hurt so good. Please, I want it!”

He stands up, aghast. “You want it???”

You’re a little confused now, not seeing what the problem is here. Maybe he just wants you to beg more. “Yeah, I want it. Come on, please. Please. I’ll make it so good.” You realize maybe the ‘daddy’ was the problem. That’s fine. You’re flexible. So flexible. “Please, Captain.”

“What the fuck!” he yells, pacing to the other side of the closet. “Why are you trying to ruin this for me??” he whines. 

“I’m saying I’m cool with it! It sounds great. Really good plan!”

“Shut the fuck up! I need to fucking think.”

You do as you’re told (see?! You’re so perfect for this!), and watch as he moves back and forth in the small space. Finally, he stops, takes out his phone, presses a few buttons, and holds it up to his ear. After a couple of moments, he speaks. “Buck! I need your help.” 

A pause while the other person speaks. “Yeah, I’m with her right now.”

Whatever Buck has to say has him shaking his head vigorously. “No! She’s not reacting right at all!” 

“Yes! I hit her in the face and gave the whole speech and do you know what she said to me? She said, ‘Hurt me, daddy!’ What the fuck?!”

A longer pause this time, and then he puts his free hand on his hip and says “No, Bucky, this is not a blessing in disguise! She was supposed to be afraid! And cry! That was 80% of the appeal. Not whatever this is!”

He throws a hand in the air. “I’m not kink-shaming!”

He’s pacing again, running a hand through his hair compulsively. “Do you think–” he starts and stops and tries again. “Do you think they’d let me give her back? And maybe get me a new one? – I don’t know. That girl at the floral shop is cute and small. I saw a customer make her cry once. Real pretty tears,” he says with a bit of a groan.

You pout, still chained to the corner. Sonuvabitch, you almost had it made.

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