#so i just wanted to make sure they didn't have that miscommunication with anyone else :D

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER FIVE: DON'T HATE THE PLAYERS

violet; 5,460 words; fluff, suggestive content, drama, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, smau-intermissions, miscommunication, fake dating, lesbian situationships rly hit diff, toxic ex!cait, simp!vi, rival!sevika, inappropriate use of locker rooms, vi is down so horrifically bad its kind of sad tbh

summary: in which instagrams are posted, texts are sent, hockey games are played, and you try your best to make it back in time to gie vi her present.

a/n: a lot of things happen here. LOL but i promise they're not all bad! ALSO. the insta post picture IS NOT PERFECT but it was the best i could do. and i didn't have time to commission an artist to draw the exact image that i wanted :( but i hope it at least gives the vibe of the post. and... it starts getting frisky here so... yall have been warned!

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ "OH SHIT, she said that?”

Vi grunts, rolling her eyes as she drops the deadlift bar with a loud thunk, flicking her belt off with her thumb.

“Yeah. I told her to fuck off.”

“Atta girl!” Jayce says, thumping her on the shoulder. Vi casts him a disgusted look.

“If you value your future offspring, Talis, never call me that again.”

Jayce laughs, reaching down to help Vi put the weights back onto the rack.

“I honestly thought it was gonna take much longer for you to, y’know —”

Vi pauses before straightening to pin him with a look.

“What? You thought I’d super hung up on her or something?”

Jayce shrugs, “Well, yeah. You seemed pretty deep in it when you two were together so…”

Vi sighs, carding a hand through her sweat-slicked hair.

“I mean, I was, but… I dunno… seeing her with that new girlfriend of hers… and just… her reaching out to try and — what… sabotage my…” Vi bites back the word ‘relationship’ so she just makes a vague sort of gesture and continues, “really kinda put things into perspective for me.”

Jayce hums thoughtfully, “Yeah, but that Nolen girl’s no joke either. Her whole family’s been in the military — her dad’s some sort of war hero, and her mom’s the daughter of a politician, I think.”

Vi casts him a sidelong glance before scoffing, “Wow. Mel really did her research, huh?”

At this, Jayce jerks up, sputtering, “Well — she just — you know — her family’s also — I —”

Vi laughs, waving him off, “Whatever dude… but I already knew all that — why d’you think Caitlyn even ditched me in the first place?”

Jayce frowns, “Wasn’t it… because her mom didn’t approve of you or something like that?”

“Yep. We had one dinner together, and her mother made it very clear that she didn’t think someone of ‘my elk’ was worthy of being with her daughter. Apparently, having an adoptive father who owns a local watering hole and coaches college hockey isn’t the exact pedigree she’s looking for.”

Jayce lets out a low whistle.

Vi grabs a dumbbell for bicep curls.

“And… it seems like Caitlyn really look her mother’s words to heart. Cause a few weeks later… well, you know the rest.”

Jayce sighs, “That’s… unfortunate. But hey, look on the bright side. Without Cait’s mom, you would’ve never had the chance to date an Olympic athlete, right?”

Vi’s mouth twists into a half-grimace as she puffs out a breath and flexes her arm up, her eyes focused on her form in the mirror.

“Yeah well — not sure what exactly we are right now so… who knows.”

Jayce folds his arms, “Give her time. I haven’t known her as long as Mel has but she’s still a really good friend and…” Jayce allows himself a tiny, slanted grin as Vi pushes through her reps, “Mel wasn’t lying when she told you that we’ve never seen her like this with anyone else before.”

Vi finishes her first set with a loud exhale, glancing up at him.

“Don’t go getting my hopes up like that, pretty boy,” but she’s smiling when Jayce bends down to hand her a bottle of Gatorade, “hasn’t anyone told you it’s not good manners to toy with a girl’s feelings?” she pitches her voice up at the end, wiggling her fingers through the air even as Jayce rolls his eyes.

A few minutes later, Jayce frowns as he turns back to Vi.

“You’ve blocked her number, right?”

Vi huffs, still counting beneath her breath, “— twenty-two, twenty-three — who? What? — Twenty-four —”

“Caitlyn’s.”

Vi grunts, straining through a few more reps before stopping to glance up at Jayce.

“No. Why? Should I?”

Jayce licks his lips, frowning slightly.

“Yeah. Might be a good idea.”

Vi shrugs, “Yeah. I’ll do it later.”

Jayce nods, “Good. Alright — abs, lets go.”

You’re antsy all the way to the airport, checking your phone every four seconds, your knee bouncing even as the cab driver pulls up into the terminal and opens the trunk to grab your bag with a smile.

You bolt through the doors, thanking the heavens that the TSA Pre line is nearly empty.

Just as soon as you get through security, Mel calls.

“Have you got it?” you ask, without even saying hello.

Mel sigh, “Yes, yes, but it won’t do much good if you’re not here to give it to her —”

“I know! I know — I’m at the airport, and just got through security. Are you and Jayce —”

“I’ll come pick you up at the airport — thank god it’s only 16 minutes away from campus.”

“And you’re sure we’ll still make it on time for the game?”

“So long as your flight doesn’t get delayed —”

“It won’t.”

Mel laughs, the sound soft as you speed-walk your way through the terminal, slumping down next to your designated one with a long breath.

“Alright then, darling. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Mel says.

You make a loud kissing noise into the speaker and hang up, your fingers automatically flicking through the open windows till you come to yours and Vi’s text history.

You grin down at it stupidly for a few more seconds before jolting out of your seat as one of the gate agents comes to shake your hand and help you board first. As you sink into the wide, business-class seat, you close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Your fingers fiddle with a thin gold chain around your neck and you bite back another grin.

You tug out the small teardrop locket dangling from the chain and flick open the clasp. Inside is nestled a single violet flower, pressed and perfect, preserved behind a thin pane of shimmering glass.

Vi makes a round of the rink, scanning the crowd with furrowed brows.

Nope. Nope. Nope…

She swears silently to herself, rolling her shoulders as the crowd roars.

You promised you’d be here tonight.

“And tonight, we’ve got our season’s top two favorites for the NCAA’s Frozen Four Championship — the Piltover Enforcers, and the Zaunite Barons!”

Vi grins as the stadium positively shakes with applause. It’s always nice playing on home-ice. Across the rink, she can see the huge, lumbering shapes of the Barons, and her jaw clenches as she catches Sevika’s eye.

They’d been something like childhood friends once upon a time. But after a falling out of meteoric proportions, they’d settled somewhere between grudging acquaintances and mortal enemies. Where they land on the scale on any particular day typically depends on the weather, the orbital tide height, and whether or not Mercury is currently in retrograde.

Though judging by the smirk that’s visible from beneath Sevika’s helmet, Vi thinks it’s nearing the mortal enemies end of the spectrum today.

All the players line up for the face off.

Vi bites down on her mouth guard and smacks her stick against the ice. Sevika skates up to her, bending down so close their helmets clack.

And for a brief, interminable second, Vi thinks Sevika’s going to stay quiet. But the moment passes and Sevika chuckles, the sound low and hoarse and utterly derisive. It sets Vi’s teeth on edge even before the first word leaves her mouth.

“Heard America’s snowflake-sweetheart’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Tch. What’s it to you?” Vi’s eyes flash up.

Sevika’s smirk has morphed into a full blown grin, sharp as freshly turned blades.

She shrugs, keeping her voice low as the official says something or other to both the teams.

“Well… just a lotta people buzzin’ online about her perfect skate at her competition this past weekend and I’m just thinkin’… man… you must not be fuckin’ her right —”

“You —” Vi nearly jerks up, but Sevika presses in just a bit tighter and Vi grounds her teeth down over the mouth guard.

“Cause if you lemme **take her for a spin, you can bet your scrawny ass that she won’t even be able to stand up straight, let alone skate clean.”

The puck hits the ice as if in slow motion; Vi feels a white-hot anger mixed with something very much like hurt surging up the length of her spine as she watches Sevika’s stick make contact with the puck first. But she doesn’t care — she slams her body forward and feels her shoulder check into Sevika’s chest as they both go sprawling across the ice and the puck goes wide.

They scramble up and take off after the puck, now in Zaunite possession, Sevika’s shoulder ramming reflectively into Vi’s as they jostle down the length of the rink.

Vi cracks her shoulder back into Sevika and the momentary gap is all she needs to break away, circling wide behind the goal. Someone shouts Reverse! and Vi feels more than sees the tiny black puck make contact with her stick. Her body moves on instinct, and she’s halfway down the rink before the others catch up to her.

She allows herself a single, tight-lipped grin before someone slams into her back with the force of a speeding firetruck. The world spins, but a second later, Vi hears the unmistakable sounds of Sevika’s heaving breaths.

“Ha. Aren’t you glad your little girlfriend isn’t here to see you eat shit?”

Vi flips around and before she knows it, she’s swinging her left arm into Sevika’s helmet, knocking it askew.

“Vi!”

Vi’s whole body seizes at the sound of your voice, and she looks up wildly, but she pays for it a moment later as Sevika’s fist connects with her jaw and her head snaps back. She brings her elbow down against Sevika’s extended arm, her free hand grappling to keep Sevika’s head shoved against the ice.

A whistle blows and they shove apart, shaking their heads and spitting blood. Vi tastes iron on her tongue and winces as she rotates her jaw. There’ll be a nasty bruise, but it’s not dislocated, and Vi’s suffered much worse at Sevika’s hands.

Half a foot from her, Sevika is shaking out her arm, looking murderous as the official comes up to point them towards the penalty box.

Vi looks around, and halfway across the rink, she sees you, your eyes wide, your hands pressed over your mouth, Mel and Jayce sitting next to you, both looking worried. But you’ve got dark streaks painted on your cheeks, and it takes her a second to recognize the large “VI” written there — her number, her name.

The world melts around her as she meets your eyes, and you look so worried that she almost laughs. This is nothing, she wants to say, you ain’t seen nothing yet, princess.

But the second is short lived as the official skates over and jerks his head towards the penalty box. She sighs, begrudgingly skating over and settling herself as far away from Sevika as humanly possible as the clock starts on their five minutes.

When all’s said and done, the game is a good one — with the final score of 3-2 in Piltover’ s favor. Sevika gets another penalty, but Vi manages to keep her cool. And by the end, everyone’s sweaty and tired, but riding high, and Vi can’t help the way she once more scans the cheering crowd for your face.

But, you’re not there. The seat next to Jayce and Mel is empty, and Vi can’t help the clawing, hollowing sensation that burrows up her chest from the base of her stomach.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Margot teases, bumping Vi as they all clamber off the ice.

Vi narrows her eyes, “What’dyou mean?”

Margot only grins, shooting Vi a wink before following the rest of the team towards the lockers.

Her phone buzzes and Vi glances down, only to see a single line of text from you:

come to the figure skating lockers. i’ve got a present for you.

Electricity zings up Vi’s limbs as she pivots hard left and makes her way down the heavily padded hallway towards the figure skating lockers, tugging off her gear as she goes. By the time she gets there, she’s managed to get most of her upper pads off, shucking them outside the door, leaving her in her loose jersey and pants.

She pushes through the thick metal door into the figure skating lockers. They’re smaller, brighter, and generally cleaner than the hockey team lockers. Vi’s never thought herself a stickler for things like nicer locker rooms but stepping in, she can’t help the way that her eyebrows shoot up.

“Whoa.”

“They’re not all this nice.”

Vi whips her head around so fast she almost gets a crick in her neck at the sound of your voice. And there — standing next to the far row of pure white lockers, with your hands behind your back and her number (her name still painted on your cheek), you.

“Yeah?” she asks, even as she drops her helmet on the thickly padded floor and shuffles forward in her skates. She takes her time looking you over — and objectively, she knows it’s only been a few days since she’d last seen you, but it feels like forever, the way time stretches endless when you’re a little kid on the playground and eternity is just another thing you can take for granted.

You purse your lips around a shy grin and Vi almost groans as she notices the bright pink ribbon tied around your neck like a choker. You’re wearing the little black dress that you’d worn to that sorority party, the one that’s been the subject of one too many of her dirty daydreams — her varsity jacket slung around your shoulders.

“Sweet god, princess… is this the present you have for me? Please tell me it is —”

You let out a soft puff of exasperated laughter.

“No! I mean —” your eyes cut away as you shift your weight from one foot to another, falling back half a step as Vi takes a few steps closer. “I-if you want it to be — this can be — uhm — an additional present —”

“Mm… I don’t think I want any other present if I’ve got this one —” Vi says, inwardly thanking the heavens that she’d kept her skates on as they give her a few more inches as she corners you against a row of snow-white lockers, so bright they’re almost blinding.

“I — well that’s —”

“Mm… cat got your tongue, princess?” Vi asks, reaching up to tug your chin back towards her as you try to glance away.

You suck in a short breath, your lashes fluttering as you meet her gaze with yours — dark to light, amber and ice.

There’s adrenaline coursing through her system, and Vi knows she’s still riding high off the win, off the knowledge that you’re here, and that you’re here for her. She looks you over with reverent eyes, her gaze lingering on the dark paint now slightly smeared across your cheeks in a large “VI”.

“I… I got this for you a while back…” you say, pressing something into her chest. Vi pauses, glancing down to see a small black box wrapped in a length of bright pink ribbon the exact same make and color as the one around your neck.

Vi falls back a step to take the box in her hands, turning it over.

“What is it?”

You shrug, a tiny, bird-like movement. Sweet and almost daring.

Vi grins as she traces a finger along a single ear of the perfectly tied bow.

“Can I?” she asks.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

Vi tugs on the ribbon and it comes loose with a whisper. She opens the box to reveal a simple, teardrop locket set on a golden chain. She picks it up, letting the locket dangle from her fingers.

“Go on, open it,” you prompt, looking both bashful and eager. Vi gives you one more glance before fumbling open the locket to reveal a single snowflake, carved into the thick glass set into the middle of the locket.

“Oh.��� Vi breathes, her voice nothing but a whisper. She stare at the locket, at the simplicity and delicacy of it. And then, she looks back up at you.

“It’s — Mel and Jayce helped me pick it — I didn’t know if you even wore stuff like this but —”

“I’ll wear it,” Vi says, letting the pendant drop into the palm of her opened hand. She offers it to you with a lopsided grin. “Can you help me put it on?”

You nod, a bit breathless, even as you take the locket from her and undo the clasp with trembling fingers. Vi grins as she leans in to let you fasten the chain around her neck, reveling in the tiny kiss of cold metal against her sweaty skin as she pulls back.

“So? How’s it look?” she asks.

You stare at the locket, and then up at her, and she swears she can see your eyes go molten.

“It looks… good.”

“Good,” Vi whispers, reaching up to finger at the tiny pink bow still tied around your neck. You suck in a breath, going still against her as she ghosts her breath along the long column of your neck. And she thinks she can almost hear the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage by the way your pulse flutters in your neck — she sure as hell can feel her own traitorous heart thundering away in her chest as she glances from the bow around your neck up to you and back down again.

“Can I?” she asks again, though this time, her voice is gentle, imploring, something like a plea as opposed to question.

She revels in the way your pulse flutters beneath the bright pink of the satin.

“Y-yeah —” you say, your own voice a harsh scrape of sound over a burgeoning need that Vi can almost taste on her tongue. But, she wants to take her time with you, she thinks, so she trails her fingers up to your neck and teases at the rabbit ears of the butterfly bow before tugging one end loose. And just like before, the ribbon gives way much too easily, and something gold shimmers as it drops from beneath the pink satin.

She stares.

It’s a gold chain identical to the one around her neck, with a teardrop pendant strung from it that mirrors her own.

This time, when she glances up, her eyes are wide, almost disbelieving.

Your throat bobs as you clench your fingers at your sides, resisting the urge to lift your hands and help her.

“What…” her voice trails off, disbelieving.

You lick your lips. “Go on — open it.”

Vi nearly fumbles the locket twice before she gets it open, and her short intake of breath is the only sign you get that she’s seen what’s inside. You hold your own breath, watching her face as it flickers through a film-frame series of emotions.

“Is that —” her voice is hoarse; she clears her throat, running a thumb over the glass.

“Yeah,” you say, reaching up to take the open pendant from her, glancing down at it yourself, heat pricking into your cheeks as your eyes settle on the pressed violet.

She’s kissing you before either of you can say another word, and the force of it nearly slams your head back into the lockers but Vi’s hand is somehow there to cushion you, her fingers digging into your hair as you gasp open for her wanting mouth. It’s not a sweet kiss and there’s nothing gentle in the sting of her nails raking against your scalp as she presses you close, and then closer.

It’s a clash of teeth and tongue, skin and sound — your tiny, surprised squeak eclipsed by the low moan that reverberates from her chest to yours as she licks into the hot cavern of your mouth and feels you soften against her — sweet as sun-warmed honey.

“F-fuck princess —” Vi hisses, pulling back with a panting breath as you let your head fall back, gasping for air even as she yanks you towards her till both of you are toppling onto one of the long benches, your legs falling open to straddle her thighs, her hands poised over the round of your hips.

You look down at her, running your thumbs along her cheeks eyes flickering over her face — and the admiration caught behind the fractured glass of your eyes is so obvious that Vi almost turns away, embarrassed. Instead, she leans up to nose into the triangle of your threading pulse, delighting in the shiver that chases down the shape of you, in the involuntary way your thighs squeeze on either side of hers.

She grins, inching her fingers beneath the hem of your little black dress, groaning as she finds the winged hollows of your hipbones and realizes, half a breath later, that you’re not wearing any panties.

“Holy shit — w-were you like this the whole game?” she asks, her eyes going wide with awe.

You bite your lips, cocking your head to one side as you reach up to brush away a strand of hair from her forehead.

“No…” you say, but your voice trails off and you glance towards the side. She follows your gaze to the left, only to find your bookbag sagging against one of the far lockers. A smirk twists her lips as her eyes slingshot back to you.

“Oh wow… so…” she drawls, trailing her fingers ever so slowly up the bare skin of your hips, hitching the hem of your tight black dress further and further up till it’s barely covering what she now knows is your bare cunt.

“You came in here and took them off… just for me?” she bats her lashes at you, her skylight eyes going dark and liquid as she watches you fidget above her. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip and Vi has to physically bite back a moan.

“Maybe I did — what of it?”

Vi’s smirk stretches as she reaches up to tug your face down towards hers, so close you can taste her breath dissolving on your tongue like sugar into tea.

“Princess…” she says, and her voice is so thick with desire it might’ve been spread there with a butter knife, “I thought… you wanted to take things slow.” Her fingers have successfully rucked your dress up high enough for it to gather at your waist, though she keeps her eyes on yours and makes no move to take advantage of the fact that you’re now entirely naked from the waist down.

You shrug up a single shoulder.

“Right… but I also remember telling you that I’m not the best with impulsivity…”

Vi laughs, the sound bright and honest. You giggle, pursing your lips, your cheeks tinted such a darling shade of crimson that Vi doubts rosy-fingered dawn would’ve had the power to eclipse it.

“Good,” she says, reaching up to cup your face with both her hands, bringing you down to tease her lips over yours, her words soft and indulgent, “cause honestly, I’ve never been the best with that either.”

She’s about to kiss you again, content to lose herself in the intoxicating drag of your lips on hers, but a text message alarm blips from her pants pocket and it jars the both of you from your desire-induced trance.

You blink, a slight frown creasing your forehead as she reaches into her hockey pants and digs out her phone. You sit back slightly as Vi clicks on her screen to see a slew of notifications dating back till god knows when, but the latest is sent from a few seconds ago and only reads:

New iMessage from cupcake 🧁

“What the —” Vi frowns.

But a second later, you’re pushing off her lap, and Vi catches a glint of the hurt in your eyes before you’re tugging down your dress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s Caitlyn, right?” you ask, your voice tenuous.

And for a second, Vi seriously considers lying to you, telling you that it’s someone else — that it’s Powder or even one of the girls from the hockey team, but she sees the fractured look in your eyes and knows that she can’t.

“Y-yeah — it is but —”

You suck in a deep breath, your fingers twisting in front of you even as Vi pushes up from the bench to try and reach for you. You jerk away, your back hitting the lockers with a loud clang that set’s Vi’s teeth on edge, even as she clenches her fist and drops her arm.

“No, it’s — it’s fine,” you say, making your swift way to your bag and snatching it up, digging around for your phone before shouldering the straps and rounding the benches again. And maybe it’s the sheer desperation curling up her chest, or the fact that the name had just come up on her screen but when she opens her mouth again, Vi says the worst possible combination of words —

“Wait, cupcake —”

You physically flinch at the pet name and Vi squeezes her eyes shut with sigh. Fuck.

When she opens her eyes again, you’re by the locker room door, your hand poised on the handle. You shoot her a single, broken backwards glance before pulling it open and slipping away.

Vi stands there, held still by the oppressive silence and the bleached-white metal all around her. She’s frozen for a single second longer before she swings her fist into the row of lockers next to her and pain ricochets up her arm from her knuckles, and her fingers pull away, already bruised.

“Fuck!”

Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes you three tries before you manage to punch the call button on Mel’s speed dial. She picks up after a single ring.

“Hey there, darling — well that was quick — we’re all heading to the after party if you —”

“Mel — c-can you come and p-pick me up?”

Mel goes quiet, and then —

“Darling? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“N-Nothing I just — can you come pick me up?” you hiccup halfway through your sentence, wiping at the fat, traitorous tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

Distantly, you can hear Mel saying something and Jayce’s voice answering back. A moment later, she’s back on the line.

“I’ll come get you, but you have to tell me what’s wrong. Why’re you crying? Did Vi do something?”

“No — it’s — it’s nothing — I just d-don’t feel very good —”

Mel sighs, “Alright then, stay where you are and I’ll come get you. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Yeah — t-thanks Mel.”

You hang up the phone and dart into the nearly abandoned parking lot, the crowds have long since dispersed, leaving you thankfully alone. You slump against the outer wall of the rink and suck in a deep, shuddering breath, reaching up to rub at your eyes with an angry palm. You cast your eyes up at the ruefully clear autumn night, the moon hanging fat and low, the stars twinkling with their cold, far-off light.

Approximately five minutes later, Mel pulls into the parking lot, mercifully alone, rolling down the windows as you rush forward and let yourself into the passenger’s side of the car, sinking into the seat with a bitten-off sob.

“Oh my darling… what happened?” Mel reaches over to give your hand a squeeze.

You bite your lips, blinking hard at the dark tarp roof of her convertible, clutching at your bag.

“Sh-she got a text from ‘cupcake’.”

Mel stares at you for a solid three seconds before slumping back into her seat and reaching up to pinch her nose bridge.

“I’m going to murder Jayce.”

“I fucked up — I fucked up —”

“Whoa, whoa — slow down — what the hell happened?”

Vi nearly chucks her skates into the already dented lockers just as Jayce makes an abortive move forward as if to stop her. She drops her skates and buries her face in her hands instead.

“Caitlyn texted me, and — and I never changed her contact from ‘cupcake’ —”

Jayce groans, running a hand through his hair.

“I thought I told you to block her?”

“I forgot, okay?” Vi says, tugging so hard on her own hair that Jayce has to reach out and smack her hands away.

Jayce sighs, leaning back against the lockers, looking over the shape of her. He can’t help the tiny grin that hitches his lips or the small puff of helpless laughter.

“Wow.”

Vi looks up, “What?”

Jayce just shrugs, “No, it’s just — been a while since I’ve seen you down this bad.”

Vi flips him off, “Fuck you, Talis. Yeah, laugh it up — look! It’s Vi! Piltover’s favorite train-crash lesbian, fumbling yet another —”

“Y’know, one of the things about being in a nice, committed, completely non-toxic long-term relationship —” Jayce says loudly, cutting her off despite the murderous look in Vi’s eyes, “is that you learn real quick that you’re always gonna be the one that’s wrong, and that your dear, darling, perfect girlfriend will always be the one that’s right.”

He grins, bitten-lipped and open-palmed. Like this, he looks almost like the politician that Vi knows Mel’s parents so desperately want him to be.

Vi frowns, “What’re you getting at, pretty boy? Spit it the fuck out — I don’t have the patience for your bullshit right —”

“And you know what people do when they’re wrong?” Jayce continues in that chipper, Sunday-morning commercial voice of his. He leans forward even as Vi leans back, the frown digging ever deeper between her brows.

“Uh… cry and punch things and shoot for a new PR at the gym?”

Jayce snorts, but at least Vi’s smiling.

“No, you fuckin’ fratbro son of a — you apologize.”

Vi’s gaze goes flat. “Ah. Right. Of course — why didn’t I think of —”

“And then — ” Jayce continues, raising his voice even higher, a finger pointed up in the air as if he were delivering the valedictorian speech at graduation, before he twists his hand and pokes it into Vi’s jersey-clad chest.

“You do better.”

Vi’s breath catches; she blinks up at Jayce before swallowing around the peach pit in her throat.

“R-right…”

Jayce hikes both of his eyebrows comically high. Vi glances up towards them before puffing out a breath.

“Think you can do that?” Jayce asks, his voice now finally back to normal.

Vi chews on the inside of her cheek before shrugging up a shoulder.

“Dunno, but… I really wanna try.”

Jayce thumps a fist into her chest.

“Good answer, Lanes. Now. Phone.” He opens his hand palm up.

She blinks at it for a second before sighing and digging her phone from her pocket and dropping it into his hand.

Jayce punches in the password without breaking eye contact, pulling up her text history and turning the phone around to face Vi as he clicks — Contact > Info > Block Caller — on Caitlyn’s number.

He hands it back just as the screen goes dark.

Vi stares at the long crack running through the center of her screen before the phone lights up again, this time, with a text from an unknown number.

Jayce barely glances at it before smiling.

“That’ll be Mel.”

Vi’s eyebrows knit as she flicks open the screen. There are two texts in quick succession:

i’ve gotten her to agree to come to the afterparty.

Do not. Fuck this up.

taglist: @traiitorjoe@rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly@drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22@lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless@armins-slvt@lin-elizabeth @ryescapades @kingkamk @princesssmars @chobssss @mybelovedvi @bouqette @noietta @brooks-lin @ally-all-around @bunnyrose01 @stumpystump @lia-winther @folklore13lover @sawaagyapong @sevikas-whore @sunflowerwinds @taurtel @tourmalinetyrone @oidloid @marcylated @krisziepowlet @vikaswife @pa-co @devotedlyelectronicartisan @aliluvszs @elliecoochieeater

[galaxywannabe]

The Miscommunication Trope™

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting into the first real argument of your relationship, some misspoken words from Bucky leave you thinking that he's done. By the time he realizes just how badly he screwed up, will it be too late to correct his mistake?

Warnings: Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Miscommunication; Crying; Arguing between romantic partners; Bucky is mean but he makes up for it; Happy ending; Reader identifies as a woman and uses she/her pronouns, but other than having hair that can be swept behind an ear I don't think there are any other physical descriptors; Please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: Almost 9.3k.....I'm sorry lol

A/N: Ummm....so. I'm fairly certain I promised this fic, like...3 months ago? In fact, I actually just went back to look and I first teased this fic on Febuary 19th, so um...lol? I made it! Listen, idk if it's even any good anymore but if I look at it for another second I'll scream, so please take it off my hands. Any and all comments or reblogs would be SO appreciated because this has truly been a labor of love, I didn't know if I had it in me. Also!! I have not forgotten @buckyinmyuniverse - you asked to be tagged in this wayyyy back when I first posted about it and I have FANTASTIC news for you babe: The wait is finally over!! I know you've no doubt been refreshing your feed for months looking for it (/j) but this whole time I was cooking this thing I remembered you asking for a tag. So, this one goes out to you. Hope you all enjoy! <3

----------------------------------------------------------

You and Bucky hadn’t ever been in a fight before, not really. You bicker, sure, usually over something lighthearted, usually resulting in an eyeroll and a “whatever you say, honey,” from Buck, but nothing serious, nothing that can’t be worked out through a civilized conversation. That was, until today.

You weren’t even trying to start an argument, you were just expressing your concern. He works too much, he takes more missions than anyone else, and it’s running him ragged, anybody can see that.

Obviously, you miss him when he’s away, but that’s not even the point - the point is that he’s taking on too much because he thinks he owes the world something, and that’s not sustainable, it’s not good for him. All you said was that maybe he’d ought to ask Fury to take him off the rotation for a while, or even just cut down on his assignment load, to give him some room to breathe. And Bucky got…defensive.

Obviously, you knew that was a possibility. Typical male pride of course prohibits silly ideas like “self care” and “burnout,” but on top of that is Bucky’s specific brand of guilt, the kind that makes him work himself into the ground no matter how badly his brain and body beg him to stop.

The defensiveness you were prepared for, but you were only coming from a place of love, your concern that of a devoted girlfriend, and surely he’d understand that, wouldn’t he? Except he hadn’t. He’d immediately dismissed your suggestion, waving a hand and continuing to type up his latest mission report with a laser-like focus. 

“I don’t need a break, I’m fine,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on the bluish light of his laptop screen.

Again, you weren’t trying to argue. You certainly weren’t going to  force him to take a break, you just wanted him to at least consider it, to remind him that it would be okay for him to rest a little, if he wanted to. The world would go on without his help for a few weeks, and there were other heroes available besides him. 

“Honey, I know you might not need one, but it’s okay if you just want one. No one would judge you if-”

And then he did something he’d never done before: he snapped at you. He didn’t even look up from his screen, his fingers still a steady staccato on the keyboard as he barked out harshly.

“I said I don’t need a fucking break. I’m just doing my goddamn job, and I don’t need you breathing down my neck watching my every move the whole time I do it. I can take care of myself.”

You winced. Obviously, that stung, and if he’d bothered to look up from his computer screen, he might have seen that on your face. But you could tell he wasn’t as unbothered by this conversation as he was acting.

Despite his brusque attitude, your words were striking a chord with him, hitting a little too close to home. His shoulders were stiff as a board, bunched up around his ears in a telltale sign of defensiveness, and you understood, really you did.

For Bucky, doing this job is the one way he can even attempt to atone for all the bad shit he’s done. Of course he felt uncomfortable with the idea of a break, he thinks he has to do these missions as some sort of self-imposed penance for the things he’d been made to do as the Winter Soldier. 

So you didn’t judge him too harshly for lashing out. You understood the reason he worked so hard, and you knew what motivated him to continue going out there even when he was exhausted. You just wanted him to see that taking a break for his own mental health wasn’t a bad thing, that even if he was making amends he still needed to find time to take care of himself, too.

You took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice, hoping to express your concern in a nonthreatening manner even as he still refused to look at you. 

“Angel. I’m not trying to breathe down your neck or tell you how to do your job. I know it’s important to you, and I love how hard you work! It’s just that, super-soldier or not, if you want to continue to do this job, you’re gonna need to stop and rest at some point, honey. That’s all I’m trying to say. I’m worried about you, love.”

Finally, he looked up at you, and your heart fluttered just seeing those baby blues you love so much. Until you clocked the scowl on his pretty face, and the hope in your gut curdled to dread. He was angry, you knew what that looked like, but in the six months of your relationship so far you’d never once seen that anger directed at you before.

It wasn’t frightening in a physical sense, not like you were scared for your well-being, of course not. But it deeply unsettled you, seeing the man you love looking at you like that. It made you want to apologize, though you weren’t quite sure what for. Before you could do anything at all, he spoke, his voice a cold, steel edge.

“You don’t know anything about what I can handle. I was doing just fine before you came around, and I don’t need you fussing over me at every turn just because I don’t sit around here all day scrolling on my phone or whatever it is you think I should be doing. I don’t need or want your hovering, so just stop, okay?”

There was silence. His shoulders heaved in the wake of his outburst, and you felt almost dazed, like this was some kind of mirage you could will away if you blinked hard enough. He’d never spoken to you like that.

Obviously, you’d hit a nerve, and while logically you understood that, it didn’t lessen the pain in your chest. You were just worried about him, why was he fighting like you were trying to strap him down and force him to quit?

While you tried to regain your bearings, breathing deeply and forcing back the stinging you felt building in your eyes, he slammed his laptop shut, standing and stalking towards your bedroom door. He’d come over to your place to work on his mission reports at your insistence because you’d wanted to keep him company, and now it appeared he was leaving.

“W-where are you going, what are you doing?” you’d squeaked, alarmed, following after him as he made his way to the foyer of your apartment and shoved his feet into his boots.

“I can’t fucking do this, I'm done,” he’d muttered in a gruff, hard voice, lacing his boots efficiently and standing back to his full height as he reached for the doorknob.

You shook your head, panicked, reaching for his arm and trying futilely to drag him back into your apartment. “Baby, please. I’m sorry, don’t go.”

But he just shook off your hold and stalked out the door, leaving you there as your eyes blurred with tears. After standing there in your foyer for several minutes, waiting for him to turn around and come back, you’d simply fallen to your knees and curled up right there on the polished wooden floor, bawling your eyes out.

That’s where you still are a couple hours later when your phone starts to vibrate incessantly in your pocket. You pull it out with trembling fingers and swipe to answer a call from Natasha.

----------------------------------------------------------

“H-hello?” you croak into the receiver.

The second Nat hears you pick up the call she’s talking, looking distractedly through her closet as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

“Hey honey, listen, me and the girls were thinking about running to Target, and we wanted to- wait, what’s wrong?” Natasha’s cheerful voice quickly drops into something soft and concerned as she picks up on the sniffles coming through her tinny cell phone speakers.

For a few seconds all she can hear is you sobbing quietly, the way you struggle to slow your hysterical breathing so you can put together a sentence. “H-he left, Nat. He broke up with me,” you whimper, voice barely audible. 

This stops Natasha in her tracks, her brow furrowed in deep confusion as she freezes with one hand reaching for her favorite sweater. What the fuck? Why in the hell would Barnes break up with you? Especially when she knows for a fact that on the last mission she had with him, he stopped into a jewelry shop in Germany ‘just to look’ at engagement rings? This doesn’t make any goddamn sense.

“Honey,” Nat speaks into the phone again, her voice soft and soothing even through the crackly audio coming from your cell phone. “What happened, what did he say?”

You sniffle again, and clear your throat so she can hear your scratchy voice a bit better. “We…there was a fight, a-and I didn’t mean to, Nat, I swear, I was just worried, but…he said he can’t do this anymore, that h-he's done, and then he left. He didn’t take any of his things with him, but maybe he’s gonna come back for them, I don’t know…I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nat…” As your sentence tapers off, your voice fades out, and a few renewed sobs float over the phone call into Nat’s ear, the sounds soaked in agony.

Oh, okay. Nat thinks she can see what really happened here just from your description, but that doesn’t make the sounds of your misery in her ear any less painful to hear. Likely, when Bucky had said he couldn’t do “this” anymore, that he was done, he’d meant the argument, the conversation, not your relationship.

But Barnes is your first real boyfriend, and you’ve never had a fight with him before. You were probably so confused and upset in the moment that you weren’t thinking about the context of his statement.

All you knew was that Bucky got upset with you for the very first time, and then he left. To you, that must certainly look like a breakup, and when Nat thinks about it from your perspective, she understands how you’d come to that conclusion.

She’d love to explain to you how you may have misunderstood, but as she listens to your hoarse crying over speakerphone, she knows you’re not in the frame of mind to process rational thought right now. Instead, she decides to focus on soothing you for the moment.

“I’m sorry, honey, I don’t know why he’d ever do anything like that to you. I’m gonna get to the bottom of it, alright? In the meantime, I just need you to do something for me,” she coos, her voice comforting and warm.

You don’t answer, just sniffling occasionally as you sit there in silence. Natasha, interpreting your lack of response as an affirmation, continues on.

“Where are you right now?”

There’s more silence for a few seconds, the sound of you pulling deep breaths into your lungs as you regain awareness of your surroundings. Then:

“Uh. The floor. In my apartment,” you mumble, confused, like you’ve just now realized that fact.

Natasha feels an additional lash of anger at Barnes flood her system when you tell her that, but she works to keep her voice calm even has her knuckles go white around her device.

“Okay, well, I need you to get up off the floor and go to your bedroom, okay? I want you to get dressed in your comfiest pajamas and crawl into bed for me, and wait there while I handle this. Can you do that? Just close your eyes and try to rest while I figure everything out?”

More sniffles, a hoarse cough, and then, after a beat of silence, your voice crackles over the line.

“Yeah….okay. I can do that, Nat,” you croak, the sound of shuffling floating over the line as you stagger to your feet after who knows how long on the floor.

She smiles, relieved to hear your voice coming through a bit more calmly, even as her mind races with the next items on her to-do list. “Okay sweetheart, you do that, then. I love you, I’ll call back soon, okay? Go get some rest.”

After hanging up with you, confident that at least you’re not curled up on your apartment floor anymore, she pockets her cell and immediately stalks down the hall towards the elevator, Target trip long forgotten.

----------------------------------------------------------

Bucky knows he fucked up. As someone who fucks up just about everything, he’s intimately familiar with the process, and he can say, with 100% certainty, that in this instance he absolutely fucked up. He never should have snapped at you - his sweetheart, his girl. You were just worried about him, and of course you were.

Bucky knows damn well he works too hard, especially lately, and he’s been on the verge of physical and mental collapse pretty much every damn day for the past month, running himself into the ground. He’d even been thinking to himself before your argument that he should slow down, take a break before he gets himself killed. So why did he get so defensive when you’d suggested it?

He doesn’t goddamn know. Because he’s messed up. Because it’s one thing when he decides to take some time off, but another when someone else has the idea, like they think he needs it.

He can’t help it; for decades of his life, the slightest sign of weakness meant pain, meant the frigid blast of a firehouse to wake him up or the wandering scalpel of a Hydra doctor looking to find a defect. Not that that makes his outburst okay, by any means, but it’s an explanation, and hey, he’s working on it, really he is. 

Still, he knew the second he walked out of your apartment that he’d fucked up, and so he’s spent the past two hours at his own place a few floors up, licking his wounds and gathering the courage to go apologize.

Because…yes, okay, he’s embarrassed by the way he acted. He’s ashamed of his own behavior, and he’d needed a minute to feel sorry for himself before he inevitably goes back down to your apartment and grovels for your forgiveness. 

He figures you’re pissed beyond belief, and if giving you some time to cool off also gives him a little while to stall the complete destruction of his ego, well, then, he’ll take it.

He finished up his mission report, he took a shower, and now he’s preparing his apology speech, debating the merit of walking down the street to a bodega for some flowers, when his doorbell rings. Shit, maybe he’s already out of time and you decided to come to him. 

When he opens his door, looking thoroughly contrite, it’s not your expected figure that stands in his entryway, but Natasha’s. And even given all his super-soldier reflexes and military training, he still staggers back a step in shock when she slaps him right across the face. 

“Whoa, what the fuck, Nat?” he barks, rubbing at the heat blooming under the skin of this cheek.

Standing there in front of him with her arms crossed, she looks anything but remorseful, her fists clenched as if she has to deny herself the urge to do it again.

“Why the fuck did you break up with her, Barnes? Are you insane?! The one good thing in your life, and you threw it all away, why, because you got a little pissed off? Out of all the stupid, careless decisions you’ve made in your fucked-up life, I really didn’t think you had it in you to top all that, but Jesus…”

As she continues to rant at him, her face pinched with rage, Bucky struggles to make sense of the words she’s already spoken. Broken up with you? Why in God’s name would he ever do that?

What an absolutely absurd thing to accuse him of, given that everybody in this building knows how insanely in love with you he is, especially your own best friend. Why is she here playing some kind of prank on him when he’s supposed to be rehearsing his apology?

“I did no such thing,” he answers bluntly, interrupting her impassioned speech, his expression confused and a little irritated at the accusation.

Nat barely even blinks at this denial. “Oh really? Then why did I just talk to her on the phone, bawling her eyes out on the floor of her apartment, telling me that you did?”

Of course, Nat’s pretty sure that Barnes hadn’t really meant to break up with you by leaving during your argument, but she’s pissed at him either way for not being cognizant enough of your feelings to foresee your interpretation of his behavior.

To Bucky, Natasha’s words might as well have been a bucket of ice water poured over his head, the way they immediately freeze his joints with dread. He feels his stomach churn as if he might be sick, the horrifying mental image of you curled up on your wooden floors driving a stake between his ribs. When he’d left, you’d been standing. Sure, you’d looked upset, but surely not that upset…right? 

He tries to think back to your emotional state when he’d stormed out a couple of hours ago, but truthfully he hadn’t turned back to see your face as he’d walked out your door. Had you been crying? He didn’t think so, but now he isn’t so sure, especially given the look of anger on Nat’s face. Why would you tell her that he’d broken up with you? As a joke, some kind of payback for his outburst?

“I….” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. “You talked to her? What did she say?”

Natasha almost feels sympathy for Bucky in this moment, standing before her looking so confused and slightly horrified. But then she thinks about her best friend sobbing on the floor because he’s an idiot, and that emotion vanishes, replaced with her plentiful anger.

“Well, it was kind of hard to hear her, what with all the sobbing and such. But when I finally was able to get her to speak, she said that there was a fight, and that you broke up with her and then left her there. She said you hadn’t taken any of your stuff with you when you left, and she wasn’t sure when you’d be back for it, but that she didn’t know what she was going to do,” Nat recalls in a hard voice, her gaze sharp and accusatory. “After that she started crying again, so I didn’t ask her any more questions.”

Another bruising blow to the tatters of Bucky Barnes’s heart. What did you mean, he hadn’t taken his stuff? Why would he take his things when he’d left them there on purpose so he had them to use when he was at your place?

Why would he take his belongings out of your apartment just because you got into an argument? This doesn’t make any sense, and the longer Natasha talks, the worse his growing sense of unease becomes. 

Why were you crying? Sure, he expected anger, he’d been a huge swinging dick and he deserves some harsh words. But why is Nat saying that you were curled up on your floor sobbing? Why wouldn’t you be on the couch, or in your bed, or even down in the gym punching out your frustrations? 

And why were you on the phone with your best friend moments ago talking like you didn’t expect him to come back? Surely you know he’ll be back, he practically lives in your apartment - his wallet and keys are still sitting in the dish by your front door, his favorite jacket hung on the coat rack. He looks at your closest friend desperately, his face drawn in stark lines of horror and regret.

“Natasha, please, I don’t know why she said all that stuff to you, I didn’t break up with her, I would never break up with her. We had an argument. She was only worried about me, but I got defensive like an asshole and said some shit I didn’t mean, so…I just wanted to get out of there, get some space before I lashed out some more, that’s all. I just needed a minute to cool off, I was always fully planning to go back, to explain myself and apologize. I don’t know why she…” he trails off, looking lost.

Nat sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her best friend is in hysterics, and it’s all because men are the dumbest creatures on this planet.

“What do you think that looked like to her, Barnes? You guys get in your very first fight, and after saying some mean shit to her you stomp out of there and go ‘I can’t do this, I'm done’. What do you think those words might have sounded like to her ears? You’re her first serious boyfriend, jackass! She’s never been in this situation before! She doesn’t know that it’s relatively normal for couples to argue, even if you definitely shouldn’t have snapped at her. She just knows you’ve never fought before, and the first time you do, you walk out the door. She thinks you’re gone for good, James.”

You could hear a pin drop in Bucky’s apartment right now, the sounds of bustling Manhattan outside his windows muffled by the blood roaring in his ears. He wants to be upset with you, to question how you could ever doubt his love enough to think he’d really just walk out after one disagreement. But in truth, given his actions and your lack of relationship experience, he doesn’t see how you could’ve come to any other conclusion. 

Bucky thought he’d been regretful before Nat got here, but after hearing his behavior described in this new light, he’s got a whole list of emotions to add to the pile. Self-loathing, remorse, fear. You’re in your apartment right now, believing yourself to be single. All that time you two spent together, every memory and intimate moment, you think it’s over, just like that, in the blink of an eye. 

Obviously, he needs to explain himself immediately, to tell you that he hadn’t meant to end your relationship in the slightest and that this is all just a giant misunderstanding.

But what if you don’t care? What if, after the way he acted towards you today, you’d rather accept his words as you’d thought he meant them and stay broken up, even knowing that wasn’t his intent? He’s shaking, he realizes distantly, noticing the way Natasha looks at him with concern in her eyes now.

He hadn’t ever really let himself consider that you’d turn him down before, when he was rehearsing his apology speech. You’re in a committed relationship of six months, you’re in love. Surely, even if he was a bit of an asshole, one transgression can be forgiven as long as he apologizes sincerely.

But that was back when he thought his only sin was his harsh words, back when he thought you were angry with him for his outburst.

Now that he knows what you’ve really been feeling, that you’ve apparently spent the past two hours sobbing on your wooden apartment floors waiting for him to come back and take his belongings, he’s not so confident that he can grovel hard enough to make up for this.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you, god damn it, that’s the whole reason he left in the first place, to spare you from his undeserved anger. Now he might be about to lose you because of his own childish temper tantrum, and the terror of that thought feels icy in his veins as it travels straight to his heart, freezing it in place. 

His body is moving towards his apartment door before he even commands his muscles to do so, single-minded on the only thing that matters anymore: fixing what he’s done. His hand is already turning the doorknob by the time a slightly startled Nat is able to catch up with him, her hand on his shoulder stalling him for only the tiniest moment before he’s barrelling ahead again.

“Don’t fuck this up. You love her, now go make it right,” she commands sternly, and Bucky just grunts his acknowledgment before bursting through his door out into the empty hallway, towards the elevator.

He doesn’t stop to voice his fears to Natasha, that it might be too late to make anything right, that he may have fucked it up beyond repair already. He just keeps moving, hoping beyond hope that he still has a chance.

----------------------------------------------------------

When he makes it to your apartment a few floors down from his own, it’s eerily silent as he pushes the door open. He’s never needed a key, FRIDAY has explicit orders to grant him entry, but for the first time ever it feels wrong entering your space unannounced, like maybe he should knock and wait for permission in light of what’s happened. He ignores the impulse. 

You’re not crouched on the floor of your entryway like Nat said you’d been, so he supposes that’s a good sign, but it occurs to him then that he’s not even entirely sure you’re home. Bucky pauses to ask FRIDAY where you are, and is relieved to hear that you’re only in your bedroom.

He almost thinks he picks up a hint of annoyance in the AI’s voice when she responds to his inquiry, though, as if even the damn computer program is pissed at him for the way he treated you. It must be his imagination.

“Angel?” he calls out softly, making his way slowly through the apartment to your bedroom, noting the oppressive stillness of the place as he goes deeper. “Honeybun? Sweet pea?” he uses his softest, most gentle voice, disturbed to find your usually lively dwelling so silent. 

The TV in the living room - usually playing some youtube video or episode of your favorite show - is powered off, and the lights are all off too, as if the sun had set and you simply hadn’t bothered to flick any of them on to combat the encroaching darkness. The place he’s wandering now is like a ghost of your apartment, no scented candles lit, no steaming mug of tea waiting for you at your usual spot at the coffee table. 

It’s unnerving, to have a place usually so full of life be so startlingly empty all of a sudden. His slow steps and his soft voice calling out for you are the only sounds in the entire space, until he finally reaches your bedroom door and pauses to listen. For a moment there’s nothing, and he worries that perhaps you aren’t home after all, until he hears a soft sound coming muffled through the thick wood of your door. 

He presses his ear against it to listen closer, brow scrunched as he waits to hear the sound again, and a moment later his heart shatters as it becomes clear that what he’s hearing is your soft sobbing, interspersed with the occasional sniffle.

Bucky pushes your door open ever-so-carefully, cursing under his breath at the slight squeak of the wood on its hinges. It’s hard to see anything in your room, even with his perfect super-soldier eyesight, as the lights are off in here, too, the curtains closed to limit even the soft moonlight coming through the windows. 

His instinct is to flick on the light so he can see you better, but he doesn’t want to startle you, and besides, you obviously prefer the lights off or you would’ve turned them on yourself when it got dark. Instead he just steps further into the room, squinting his eyes as he can just barely make out the lump under the covers where you lay, curled in a ball in the center of your mattress, crying quietly.

He knows you must have heard his entrance, must realize he’s standing at the side of your bed right now, but you make no move to acknowledge him, continuing to sob softly as he watches on, heartbroken.

“Oh, darlin’...” he sighs, pulling the covers back a bit to expose your head, kneeling with one knee on the mattress so he can get a closer look at you.

You sniffle pitifully as you feel the cool air of the room on your face, extra cold against your cheeks where they’re wet with tears. Your vision is too blurry for you to actually see him, but you know who it is, know the scent of his cologne and the familiar touch of his fingers on your face as he brushes your hair back to see you better. 

Your stupid, traitorous nervous system reacts immediately to his presence, your panicked breaths slowing and your tears subsiding, a warm wash of comfort moving through your chest along with an instinctive sense of safety.

Your body knows nothing of the events of the past few hours, that he isn’t yours anymore, that he isn’t here to comfort you. It just instinctively calms under his attention, unaware that it is fleeting now, sure to be gone in only moments.

As the man you love wipes the tears gently from your face, his touch so sweet and soft it inadvertently causes more of them to fall, you force your hoarse voice to speak, the sound a barely audible croak even in the silence of your room. “Are you here to get your things?”

Bucky’s own eyes sting at your words, at the miserable tone to your voice as you say them, and he shakes his head vehemently, though he’s not sure you’re even really seeing him right now.

“No, baby, of course not. Why would I take my stuff, huh? I left those things here so I could use them when I’m visiting my girl, you know that,” he counters in a painfully soft voice, like he thinks speaking above a murmur will shatter you. Maybe he’s right about that, you do feel awfully close to shattering.

You feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind your eyes, and you close them for a moment, struggling to craft a coherent thought through all the heartbreak clouding your brain. Why is he here speaking nonsense when you’re in the middle of trying to mourn him? Does he not see that it’s cruel for him to be here with his comforting touch and his sweet voice, knowing that those things are lost to you forever now? 

“I’m not your girl anymore…” you mumble brokenly, the very act of having to speak the words into existence pulling another sob from your chest. 

Despite yourself you nuzzle your cheek into his palm as he cradles your face, desperate for his affection. If you’re never going to feel his touch again, you’ll bask in every opportunity while you have it, savoring the familiar warmth even as you question why he’s offering it to you in the first place.

Your face is pinched in concentration, like you’re trying to commit the sensation to memory, and Bucky’s heart might as well be in shards by his feet at this point, the way you seek out his touch like you’re starved for it. Like it hasn’t only been hours since he last gave it to you, like you’ll never have the chance to feel it again.

“Yes you are, baby, you’re always gonna be my girl. You’re mine, honey, just like I’m yours. Forever, haven’t I told you that?” he speaks desperately, like he’s pleading with you to agree with him, and although you’d love to, you have very recent evidence to the contrary.

“B-but, you said…” you trail off in a whisper, unable to repeat the words. You don’t need to anyways, you both know what he’d said. That he can’t do this. Can’t be with you anymore.

Bucky’s quick to interrupt you, needing you to understand that that’s not what he’d said, or, at least, not what he’d meant. “Baby, I didn’t- I’m sorry I said it like that, and I understand why you took those words the way you did. But that’s not what I meant to say, sweetheart, I swear.”

He huffs and slides a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly unable to bear having this conversation with you while you lie curled up alone in your bed, looking up at him blankly with your shining eyes.

Before you can speak another word he peels back the covers some more, making room for himself as he slides into the bed beside you, pulling you up and onto his chest so he can hold you in his arms. The tears on your cheeks immediately soak through the soft cotton of his T-shirt, but he doesn’t care, cradling you tightly against his chest and rubbing slow, comforting circles onto your back.

You want to say something, to express your confusion at his incongruent behavior, but you can’t, not with his arms around you and his scent in your nose. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out are more shuddering sobs, your body limp in his hold, completely helpless against the comfort he offers.

Even if he shouldn’t be, he’s here. He’s here, and he’s holding you like you’re something precious again, and even if you know that there must be some mistake you can’t stop yourself from completely melting into his embrace, any semblance of your remaining composure crumbling completely.

Bucky just coos softly, murmuring gentle assurances in your ear and holding you, solid and steady as you weather the storm of your heartbreak. Despite having spent the better part of the past two hours bawling your eyes out, the crying starts anew with him here, his comforting presence both a relief and a reminder of what you’ve lost, what you’ll be missing when he walks out that door again.

You two lie like that for a while, though whether it’s for a few minutes or several hours you can’t say, time stretching into infinity as you cry into his chest. As the tears finally subside once again, your body exhausted and your throat sore, your mind belatedly registers his words from before. He’d been saying something, hadn’t he? 

“What…” your voice comes out scratchy, so you clear your throat to be heard better - though Bucky couldn’t have missed a word out of your mouth if he tried, focused on you as he is. “What do you mean, that’s not what you meant? You broke up with me.”

Bucky shakes his head immediately, bringing his mismatched palms up to cradle your face, sweeping your hair back behind your ears so he can see his beautiful girl. God, it’s torture watching you cry, but he seems to have broken through to you somehow, and he’s not going to squander this opportunity to explain himself.

He can’t suppress the urge to lean down and drop a tender kiss to your forehead, though, your tear-stained face so pitiful he could cry right along with you if he didn’t have something more important to be doing at the moment.

“I mean, that’s not what I meant, sweetheart. I never intended to break up with you. How could I? Leave my girl, my princess? Don’t you know you mean more to me than every other person on this planet put together?” He speaks calmly but firmly, his gaze steady on yours as he practically begs you to believe him. You have to believe him.

You frown, confusion pulling your brows together as you take in his desperate expression. His words make your heart flutter with hope, but you don’t understand, can’t make sense of the reality he’s trying to assert when you know you heard otherwise only a couple of hours ago. It’s all a bit much for your heartbroken brain to handle, and you just blink at him blankly, completely lost.

“I don’t understand, Buck. Y-you were so upset, and then you left, and you said ‘I can’t do this, I'm done.’ I thought you meant we were done, that you can’t do us anymore.” you recall in a miserable voice, searching his eyes for answers as you desperately try to understand.

He nods empathetically, his thumbs brushing at the tears on your cheeks even as more continue to fall to take their place. “I know that’s what I said, sweet girl, and I know how it sounded to you, but that’s not at all how I meant it, I swear. I just…” Bucky sighs, his features plastered with remorse, his eyes falling from yours in shame.

“I was being an asshole. I knew, even as I was doing it, that I was being an asshole, that I couldn’t stop being an asshole, so I just…I wanted to get away from you before I lashed out any more, that’s all. I knew if I kept trying to discuss things with you right then I was only going to say more shit I didn’t mean, so I tried to put some space between us, just until I could cool off and be rational again.”

Bucky pauses, sighing deeply and stroking your cheeks. His eyes are swimming with guilt so deep it hurts your chest just to look at it. He looks almost as torn up about this whole ordeal as you do, which, although his pain isn’t something you revel in, does make your heart beat a little faster with hope. Would a man who doesn’t want to be with you anymore still look at you with that much guilt over having caused you pain?

When he speaks again his voice is low and strained with emotion, apologetic. “Darlin’, I…I am so sorry for the things I said to you today. I didn’t mean a single damn one of them. I love that you look after me, I love that I have someone waiting for me when I come home, making sure I’m not pushing myself too hard. I need you there to do that for me, because we both know I’m too proud and stubborn to take a break on my own. I got defensive, and I lashed out because I felt threatened, and that is not okay or fair to you. If you can’t forgive me for those things I said, I understand.” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes closing as hot tears sting the backs of them, fighting to escape. “But you need to know that when I told you I couldn’t ‘do this,’ I sure as hell didn’t mean you, or us. All I meant was that I couldn’t keep having that conversation with you, that I needed to get away before I hurt you worse. That’s all it was. When I left your apartment today, it was to get some space because I knew I was throwing a temper tantrum. In no way, shape, or form was I breaking up with you, or trying to end what we have. I couldn’t do that, it’s not in my DNA to do that. I’m simply not capable of it, and you have to know that. Even if you decide you’re better off without me, I need you to know that. Please.”

You stare down at him in the wake of his speech, watching as he blinks rapidly to keep tears at bay, and you’re so god damn confused in this moment that you wish he would give you a timeout, let you process everything he just said before you have to respond to it.

Could it possibly be true? That he’d never meant to break up with you, that he still loves and wants you? Could this all just be some massive misunderstanding on your part?

The possibility has hope fluttering warm in your chest, but you suppress it. Better to make absolutely sure first, before you let your heart get obliterated for the second time today. Letting yourself have this hope only to quash it moments later might actually break you for good.

“You weren’t…I mean, you didn’t want to break up with me?” you whisper hesitantly, afraid to let yourself believe it even though you’re desperate to.

Bucky’s heart cracks in his chest as you ask that so timidly, like just voicing the question is opening you up to a whole new potential world of hurt. He shakes his head firmly, his metal hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull, his fingertips massaging your scalp gently.

“No, babygirl, never. Not in a million years. Even though we were arguing, it was the last thing on my mind, trust me. I’ve never wanted to break up with you, not for a second. I love you,” he reassures you smoothly, his voice low and calm, exuding certainty.

You have to sniffle hard to hold back a fresh round of tears at those three simple words, ones you never thought you’d get to hear from him again. Jesus Christ, if you never cry again it’ll be too soon. Your gaze is particularly frail and fragile as it meets Bucky’s, some of that hope you’d been suppressing earlier making itself known in your features, tentative but present.

“So…you’re still my boyfriend?” you ask in a tiny murmur, like maybe this is the part where he pulls the rug out from under you and announces he was kidding about the whole misunderstanding thing.

Bucky’s features tighten a little at your question, and dread pools in your stomach rapidly, fearing the worst. But his words aren’t quite the heartbreaking blow you’re expecting, more like a puzzling wrinkle.

“If you want me to be, yeah, baby, I am.”

Your brow furrows, confused. What the hell does that mean? Suddenly, you recall a few other parts of his speech just now, parts that had been immediately overshadowed when he’d said that he still wanted to be with you. Now that you think about it, he’d also said a bunch of stuff along the lines of ‘If you can forgive me,’ and ‘If you decide you’re better off without me,’ hadn’t he?

What the hell was that all about? Why’s he talking about whether you want to be with him? Like you haven’t been literally bawling your eyes out for the past two hours at the prospect of having to live without him? How does that make any sense?

“Of course I want you to be. You think I was curled up on the floor sobbing because I was happy to think that our relationship was over?” you ask incredulously, frowning at him. 

He chuckles a little at that, the sound vibrating through you as you lay on his chest, but it’s strained, his expression vulnerable. Although you attribute this misunderstanding mostly to your own mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion, Bucky is riddled with guilt for both his abrupt exit from your apartment and the things he’d said leading up to it.

In his eyes you went through a lot of pain today, and every inch of it is his fault. If he’d stopped to explain his meaning, or, hell, if he hadn’t gotten so damn defensive in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. His girl wouldn’t have spent hours of her life sobbing on her hardwood floors if he’d just stopped to breathe like his therapist taught him to. His pale irises swim with shame as he gazes up at you.

“No, no, I just…I said some horrible things to you today, darlin’. And just because you were upset to think that I’d broken up with you doesn’t necessarily mean that all is forgiven, I know that. I understand if you’d rather keep us apart after the way I acted,” he murmurs defeatedly, like he’s already prepared himself for a thorough scolding.

Which is absolutely goddamn ridiculous, in your eyes. You snort, brows raised in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? All is forgiven, Buck, all is so past forgiven. I don’t care about the shit you said. You’re here, you’re still mine, that’s all that matters now. Forget the fight, forget all of it. I’ve got you, that’s all I care about.”

You say it so simply, like it could be so easy. Like his indiscretions are just wiped clean in the face of your pure relief. But he knows that they aren’t, they can’t be. It’s not that easy, as much as he’d like it to be. He fucked up, and he deserves what’s coming to him.

He tries to reason with you, his expression pained. “Baby, you can’t just-” 

“I absolutely can, actually,” you interrupt, looking unamused, stern. “I’m the one you said those things to, so I think I have the right to determine how I feel about them, don’t you?” You keep your eyebrows raised, challenging.

You watch as he mulls those words over a bit, licking his lips anxiously. It takes him a moment to decide how to respond, and when he does his words are slow, strained. Like maybe he doesn’t want to say them, but he feels like he has to.

“Yes, you do. It’s ultimately your decision, of course it is. I just…before you decide to blindly forgive me for this, I want you to really consider how you feel, okay? I know your instinct is to forget all about it because you’re just relieved to have me at all right now, but…I messed up. I hurt you, I said hurtful things even if I didn’t mean them. You didn’t deserve that, least of all from me, the man who’s supposed to love and protect you. You’re allowed to be upset about it, and if my actions made you realize that you don’t want to be with me anymore, then…you’re allowed to feel that way, too.”

His voice cracks on that last word, and your heart aches painfully in your chest at the sound. In this moment, you’re realizing with horror that Bucky truly believes he deserves to be broken up with tonight. With the unshed tears clinging to his lashline and the devastated look on his face, it’s clear that he doesn’t want to be dumped, that in fact that’s the last thing he wants.

But it’s obviously what he thinks should happen, the punishment he thinks he’s earned for the inadvertent heartbreak he put you through tonight, and that’s just…unacceptable, to be honest. 

The man would forgive you if you literally drove a stake through his chest, for Christ’s sake, yet he’s expecting you to kick him to the curb? What, because he got a little snippy with you? Because you jumped to the wrong conclusion and convinced yourself he left you? You would almost be insulted that he could think such a thing of you if you didn't know where the fear comes from.

You've seen them firsthand: the deep layers of self-loathing that have bogged him down since long before your relationship started, the inherent belief he carries that he is irreparably flawed and unworthy of love. He doesn't feel like he deserves you on his best day, so when he screws up, no matter the size of the infraction, he expects to be cast aside.

You reach out with one hand to cradle his cheek, his stubble gently scraping against your thumb as you caress his skin. Your expression is caring but firm, your eyes holding his as you speak in an even voice.

“I need you to understand that I don't expect you to be perfect, James. I don’t expect that you will always say the right thing, or have a perfectly even temperament in every situation because hell, none of us do. You’re allowed to fuck up sometimes, sweetheart, and you still deserve to be loved even when you do.”

His brow furrows as you speak, his instinct to reflexively deny the forgiveness you’re offering. “But I hurt you,” he interjects, the look on his face so miserable it tugs at your chest.

You nod your agreement, though your expression is still full of compassion and love. “Yes, you did. I won’t even begin to address the break-up fiasco because that was a complete misunderstanding on my part, but yes, the things you said before you left really stung me. Do you know why I’m going to forgive you anyways, though? Why, even if this happens again, I’ll probably forgive you a hundred times over?”

You pause for effect, giving him the opportunity to respond. Honestly, as upset as you’ve been these past few hours, it’s all begun to fade in the face of this man you love trying to convince you he’s not worth it. When he just looks at you helplessly, his eyes tracking your speech with rapt attention, you smile and continue.

“It’s because I know you’d never hurt me on purpose, Bucky. Let me ask you something: when you snapped at me today, did you do it because you were trying to find the absolute meanest thing you could say at that moment? Did you say it because you wanted me to feel bad?”

Looking a bit startled at the suggestion, Bucky shakes his head mutely. He hadn’t really even been conscious of the words at all until after they’d already blurted from his mouth, and even then it didn’t fully sink in until after he’d calmed down. You smile, satisfied by his immediate denial. 

“No, of course you didn’t. You didn’t say that stuff to be mean, to hurt just for hurting’s sake. You were feeling ambushed and defensive, and you lashed out. Is it ideally how you’ll always react when I try to express my concern for your wellbeing? No, of course not. But is it a realistic thing for a person to do who’s not used to being cared for? Absolutely, it is. And it’s just something we’re gonna have to work on, baby. I’ve never done this whole relationship thing before, and you’re trying to do it for the first time in 80 years with a hell of a lot of additional trauma thrown into the mix. 

“We’re learning, and it’s not always gonna be perfect or easy. Maybe before this becomes an issue again, we’ll think up some ways for you to politely tell me ‘I’m feeling overwhelmed by this conversation, please back off and we can come back to it later.’ Or maybe we’ll discuss how I can voice my concerns to you in the future without triggering your defensive response, how I can come off as less accusatory and make the discussion feel more safe for you.

“We’ve only been doing this for six months, and as real as it is, as much as I love you more than anything, we’re gonna face a hell of a lot more than this one hurdle if we want to keep doing this thing in the long term. So, yeah, tonight has sucked, pretty much every minute of it was a disaster, but you know what? It’s over now. You apologized, we’re gonna try and do better next time, and…that’s the end of it. Clean slate. All I want to do with the rest of my night is finally stop fucking crying, and eat a burger the size of my head. Preferably, with my boyfriend next to me the whole time, trying to steal my fries when I’m not looking. Do you think you could help me make that happen, Buck? Please?”

He looks stunned in the wake of your speech, silent for several moments as his brain struggles to grapple with the reality of your easy forgiveness. He blinks at you hard, like he truly can’t believe that you’re not running in the opposite direction right now, burning every trace of your life together and cursing his name the whole way.

But the truth is, you’d already made up your mind to forgive him the second you realized he hadn’t meant to break up with you in the first place, and Bucky must see that, too, because the fight in his eyes is slowly dimming into something more fragile, vulnerable. 

His gaze fixes on yours in the dark, searching for some hidden shard of resentment or anger that you may be holding back for his sake, but he doesn’t find it, there is no such thing for him to find. You just smile weakly up at him, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day but no less sincere, and when he blows out a slow breath through his nose, you know you’ve got him.

He’s definitely not done badgering himself about the mistakes he made today, not by a long shot, but he must see your weariness on your face, your desperate need to move on from this at least for the moment, so he nods slowly, his flesh hand rising to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can make that happen. Whatever you want.”

Your smile brightens, the relief so stark in your features that it brings a lump to his throat, and when you press your lips against his he makes a silent promise to never put you in a position like this again, to never let his bullshit drag you down or put your relationship at risk like he did today.

He’ll go to therapy twice a damn week if he has to, you deserve better than his temper tantrums, than cruel words spoken out of a defensiveness he doesn’t need anymore. Not with you. 

Half an hour later finds you perched in his lap, draped in one of his hoodies and talking and laughing at your favorite diner like there never was an argument, like not a single tear was shed today. He hates that the joy on your face is most likely motivated by your sheer relief that he’s still yours, but he can’t complain about the sparkle in your eyes, nor the way you lean back against his chest as you sip your shake.

Obliging your request, he steals some fries off your plate while you gesticulate wildly through a story, a warm flutter going off in his chest when you pretend to squawk in protest. He soaks in every second, every twitch of your lips and brush of your hand against his, reminding himself what he could have lost, what he perhaps deserved to lose after his actions today. 

He’ll make this up to you, he knows he will - he’s sure Natasha will have plenty of suggestions for how he can start. He thinks back to that little velvet box he’s got buried deep in the back of his sock drawer, a sharp pull tugging at his heart as he realizes he almost lost his chance to give it to you at all. He resolves right here and now, basking in the warm light of your infinite patience for him, that he won’t take that box out until he’s earned it.

He hates to wait even a second longer, itches to lock you down with every passing moment, but he won’t ask you to make that kind of commitment to him until he’s sure he’s the man that you need him to be. As he presses a firm kiss to your temple, swiping another morsel from the edge of your plate with a smile, he swears up to his Ma that he will work hard to deserve you, even if you seem to think he already does.

[seriouslygoodomens]

Alright I'm back. Bare with me please.

We NEEEED to be talking about this.

When Aziraphale and Crowley have their first big on screen fight/break up(how ever you want to view it) we see Crowley start yelling about how he hates the "great plan" and Aziraphale goes on to say "may he be forgiven" this leads on to Crowley having a bit of a sad rant as below, even going as far as saying "i will never be forgiven, not ever. Remember, this is the Crowley that said "I didn't even mean to fall, I just hung around the wrong people"

Now what I want to add to this is how absolutely devastated Crowley sounds after this fight and how absolutely torn Aziraphale looks.

(Excuse my poor video, I couldn't find the scene online)

My rant doesn't stop there, no, no. I have more!

The ONE thing Crowley plays into is the "I'm a demon I'm not nice or worthy of forgiveness." And I think Aziraphale is aware of that.

1. He never gets mad when Crowley pulls the "I'm not nice" cranky pants act

2. He didn't even flinch when Crowley shoved him against the wall in the first seasons(but that could be for different reasons 😉)

3. He never, assumes Crowley is behind the wrong doing until Crowley says something dumb like "I got a commendation" regarding the French head cutting. He has learned over the years that what Crowley makes "evil" is usually not something truly bad like the whole bullets instead of paint but no one actually got hurt.

Aziraphale loves Crowley so much but he can't say it because they are always being watched. So you know what he uses instead? I FORGIVE YOU. We see it twice in the series. Aziraphale understand that Crowley thinks he will never be forgiven and that being a demon, he isn't worthy of anyone's forgiveness. So Aziraphale makes sure Crowley knows rhat he is worthy and that he cares so much about Crowley that even God herself won't forgive him, at least Aziraphale has. Aziraphale uses it as his I love you because in a way, it means so much more to them.

Here is the first "I forgive you"

Crowley is pouring his heart out trying to protect Aziraphale and get him to run away with him. He even tells Aziraphale how clever he is, granted he also called him stupid. This is another moment where Crowley is really trying to explain to Az how much he cares about him. Yes there is a LOT of miscommunication here because Aziraphale doesn't want to leave earth. He wants Crowley but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to fight for what is right. Crowley just wants to protect Azirphale and himself. He wants them to have peace together. The do argue and you can see Az is hurt again but instead of breaking things off like earlier, he says "I forgive you" which we can all agree doesn't just mean he forgives Crowley for being rude, he is forgiving so much

. The rude comments

. Lack of trust

. Showing he is worth forgiveness even with such a rushed apology.

Crowley could have left! By all means he should have but he could not abandon his Angel. There is nothing Crowley fears more than losing his Angel. He knew hell was coming for him, he knew they would destroy him for such a huge mistake but he stayed because his Angel is worth risking his life for. His Angel who forgives him time and time again for having to be a "demon" and put on the act. The Angel that has been by his side for thousands of years, just them against all else. Of course he stayed, and do we blame him?

Now let's move onto the second "I forgive you" scene and boy, there is a LOOOOOT to unpack there.

I'm not going into the last 15 because there is SOOO many posts that accurately portray the meaning behind BOTH of their song and dance. Especially Aziraphale's side. So I'm just going to cover that last scene in the shop together.

. Aziraphale knows they are being watched, just like season 1 all over again. The threat is much great this time, though, it's the actual Metatron

. When he first came into the shop, he KNEW what Crowley was going to say by the first words and Az even said "I know we ought be talking about..." he then looked outside and the scene continued. The whole time he keeps glancing outside!!

. When Crowley kisses him, you see Az lose himself in it. He leans in and holds him, ever so briefly before remembering they are being watched. The kiss is all they have ever wanted but it's the wrong time as they are being watched. Just watch him grab his back and straighten slightly

. The first place Az looks after the kiss is outside to the Metabastard. Crowley never once follows his eyes though, would it have been different if he did?

. That man is broken! He loves Crowley beyond words, beyond books and would risk everything for him, that's what he is doing to protect him right now in this scene. As stated in one of the flash backs in season one "I can't have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous" which means Crowleys life is more important to him than getting into trouble with the other angels.

. If your volume is up super high(we had a loud thunderstorm) you will hear "I..... Lo..... I forgive you" now you might think I'm hearing things but I'm not. If you slow the scene down and watch Aziraphale's mouth and tongue placement he IS saying the letter L not F. He couldn't possibly say I love you infront of metatron though, could you imagine what would happen? So he says I forgive you. It's the only way he could safely say "I Love You" without making the whole thing with Metadickhead worse.

. He grabs his lip and presses into it replicating the kiss! This doesn't add much to my rant, just thought it was super cute because it shows how much he enjoyed it and knows that he won't feel that again for a very long time, if ever.

[simp-ly-writes]

To Never Fearing Love

─────── · · Hate the Love That Drives Ambition (pt.3)

Pairing:Father!Silco x Mother!Reader, Jinx & Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Your's and Silco's family decides to have a bonding day with the kids. Silco takes his son out for drinks at the bar as they learn more about one another and Jinx revels in having the love without conditions, motherly figure of you.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, reader called 'mom/mother,' found family, fluff, miscommunication, emotional hurt/comfort, alcohol and smokes mentioned, swearing, happy ending, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,400

─ · · A/N: don't know if anyone remembers this series lol but @juluina thank you for the ask in expanding this work (super sorry it took me so long to write heh... exams and work, you know?) hope you all enjoy!

─────── · ·

You and Silco quickly pulled away from one another at the sound of gags and coughs produced by your kids, Rhyker and Jinx. "Mom!" Rhyker shook his head in disgust while looking at the way Silco wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "Dad, ew, stop it!" Jinx called out seeing as he kissed your forehead before letting go.

"I thought you wanted your mom and I back together, or am I mistaken?" Silco states in an all to calm tone, yellow-eye twitching between his son and daughter before casting a wink in your direction, more groans sounded. "I don't want this if you both are going to be so... so GROSS about it!" Jinx complains, twirling one of her braids and accidentally hitting Rhyker who picks up a couch cushion and slams it in her side with annoyance.

You sigh watching as your apartment slowly gets wrecked as Silco moves to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of Whiskey from your liquor cabinet. You raise your wine glass, clinking the two together before sitting back and watching the chaos unfold. "Could you imagine these two growing up alongside one another?" Silco asks before taking a long sip form his glass.

You think for a moment, turning to look at the side of Silco's face, "I think we would have gotten divorced, honestly." Silco chuckles, "You thought of us getting married?" he asks, a small smile tugging on the edge of his lips. You place your head on his shoulder, "sometimes... other times I fantasized about having your head above the mantel."

Silco's chuckle now turns to heavier laughs as his hand grips your knee, you shiver at the feeling of his gold cufflink hitting your skin, "you wouldn't be the first one to have that fantasy, darling but if I were to go out anyway... I would want you to do it more than anyone else." You don't know weather or not to feel flattered by that comment, simply leaving it to hang in the silence as Jinx kicks Rhyker in the shin, sending him falling to the rug before she tickles his sides. Tears well in his eyes before he pushes her off and ties her shoelaces together before running away.

"Do you ever fantasize about anything else?" Silco speaks in a deep tone just for your ears. You hum, placing your hand on top of his before gently feeling up his arm, threading your hand underneath his vest to rest upon his heart, feeling as it skips a beat. "I'll tell you if you make them happen-"

"LALALALALLALA" Jinx screams, pulling her ears and trying to run away in her tied-together shoes after Rhkyer. You close your eyes, listening to the door slam and the apartment go quiet... you didn't know weather or not to be appreciative or worried about what the kids were up to next.

Seemingly sensing your thoughts, Silco's hands rises up your leg- your breath hitching before hissing at your partner, "Silco," your voice stern and warning. "I'm sure they're fine. Now, are you able to get days off of work the official way? or should I... pursude?"

You remove your head from his shoulder, shaking it profusely, "none of that will be needed, sir." You wiggle a finger in his face, watching as he stares blankly at you but not moving to stop you, simply leaning back in his chair, head tilting to the side- admiring you.

His glass sits against his spread thigh, breathing slow and even as he watches you compose the letter and send it off through the slot within the apartment. "I think it would do us some good bonding with the children," Silco says off-handedly. You think through a day with Jinx in your head, letting her slow you around Zaun and you showing her around the nooks and alleys of Piltover... you smile, "I think thats a wonderful idea darling-"

"The only kind I come up with," Silco retorts to your scoff, "Mhmm sure, Silco and I'm pregnant and its not yours." Silco spits out his drink, slamming the glass against the table before standing, hands rigid behind his back as he looks down upon you, "say that again for me... slowly."

You stand your ground for a minute, watching as his eye twitches and wrinkles form against his forehead, "I'm fucking with you, now keep that ego in check or I may just have to... you know." Silco glares at you as he would one of his goons or business associates but having watched that cold glare be formed since the start, you are unwavering underneath it- smirking to his sigh as you celebrate your victory. "You're not going to make things easy, are you?"

"Easy for you and me, Silco?" you shake your head walking forwards to stand before him, running your hands up and down his chest, "never."

─────── · ·

The following day after you and Silco shared a bed after nearly twenty years apart... you had the best sleep of your life but were excited to get ready and go out with your new daughter. Jinx seemed more eggar than, bursting into the main bedroom and shaking you away.

"Out," Silcos groggy morning tone commanded, casting a glare to the blue-haired girl, watching as her shoulders dropped. "Silco!" you swatted his chest, moving away and patting a spot in the bed for her to sit beside you in which she gladly took, sticking her tongue out at her father-figure. "You're gonna be my favourite," Jinx says, wrapping her arms around you, cuddling into your side as you pat her back gently, "happy to hear it," you smile before seeing Rhyker in the doorway looking to Silco expectedly.

Silco leans his head back into the pillows, "I thought we were past the toddler stages," he mumbles to himself before moving closer to you leaving the edge of the bed empty for Rhyker to join the cuddle pile. Jinx smiles, staring up at the ceiling, "we're finally a family," she whispers to herself, your heart aches, subconsciously grabbing Silco's hand underneath the cover, squeezing it.

─────── · ·

The next day has you split with Jinx to share a mother-daughter day and Silco and Rhyker to have a father and son one. You both start in Zaun, knowing that (out of all places) to be the safest place for Jinx to walk around freely. She shows you all the changes since you had last talked a long walk around the undercity as you nod your head along, allowing her to drag you down alleyways and into various shops and bars.

To your shock she barges into Silcos office, you stand outside the doors peering in, feeling unsure of entering the space, memories flash over your mind of earlier days when you both were first building this empire... his empire... you shake your head of these thoughts, taking a step over the threshold with a withheld breath before startling once seeing a figure emerge from the darkness, smirking down at you, Sevkia.

"I would say I've missed you but then again, ever since you've appeared I've been working over-time trying to fill in Silco's boots," you open your mouth to apologize to the woman before feeling her hand clamp down on your shoulder. "I'm... happy you and the boss are on taking terms again... was a tough couple of decades." You nod your head apologetically before hearing Jinx's voice call you away.

Shaking her hand you part ways and follow after Jinx's call into Silco's room. You feel the sheets of his green silk covers and take a peek into his closet. Your heart thumps heavily in your chest at the sight of all your clothes left in the order you left them... and at the 'new' additions from old collections you admired in past catalogues. He remembered a silly thing like that, you think to yourself.

"Look here!" Jinx shouts, helping you up to the rafters and then up towards the roof. You look over the various nick knacks and gadgets she has stored within the various nooks and crannies of the space alongside her illustrations with intrigue.

"I spend most of my time here or in my lab but here a lot," she explains before pointing to the cityscape before you both. "Silco and I went to dinner for my 15th birthday there and that tailor shop he keeps in business since you used to be friends with the owners daughter and that pub is where I first got wasted and Silco had to carry me home and Oh!" you smile, watching as he face lights up and you feel her grab your arm, gripping it tightly as if worried you would be gone in the next moment.

You place a hand on top of hers, she pauses, looking down at it before looking up into your eyes, glossing over, "I-I'm really thankful for you, mom." You hold her cheeks in your hands, pressing your foreheads together, "I'll be here with you for as long as I can." You promise.

─────── · ·

Rhyker stood stiffly beside and equally stiff Silco at the bartop. They both had yet to look at one another and that that Rhyker thinks about it... they both had barley shared more than a few words.

Silco takes one long drag of his cigar, swirling the amber liquid in his glass as he places his arm against the wood counter and looks towards his son.

For anyone else, the long stare would have them wetting their pants and running but for Rhyker he stood taller, meeting his fathers gaze with his chin raised as he stared down the man absent for so much of his life.

"So... how'd you and mom meet?" Rhyer tries to start the conversation off with a topic he hopes is on the table. Silco squints his good eye, a crack begins to form at the side of his glass before he swings his head side to side contemplatively.

"We met like any other couples do, at a bar one night. I bought her a drink, said I liked the smell of her perfume, danced the night away and invited her home. One night turned to two, two to three and then she never left... or well, you get the rest," Silco responds, downing the rest of his drink before tapping for another.

Rhyker raises a brow at his words, shaking his head as his father offers his a drag from his cigar. "But when did you realize you loved her?"

"Never stopped," Silco quickly answered back, "now are you asking for advice or do you desire reading into your mom's and I's relationship that much..."

Rhyker frowns, eyebrows furrowed, "no, I think I'll know when. I'm just curious when you knew."

Silco hums, giving the bartender a nod as his glass gets refilled, "well, when someone like your mom holds you in the rain forsaking their own health in your time of need, I think the distinction between like and love becomes instantaneous- almost like the love was always there, no matter the time, place, or life before or after the moment."

"So you would love her in every lifetime?" Rhyker asks, adjusting his glasses while taking a sip from his glass. Silco stares at the wood top again, his dress shoe tapping against the tiled floors, "you sound like her father listening to 'give her away.'"

"I can't help but still feel... fearful of you."

Silco nods his head slowly before looking into his sons eyes, holding the stare before smirking, "fear is good in small doses but do not let it consume you. I made a vow never to feel that immense fear again and that includes ensuring I don't see you or your mother go again."

"Always have some wisdom to share don't you dad?" Rhyker smiles, mirroring Silcos expression as they knock shoulders. Silco scoffs before allowing a few laughs to leave his throat, "wisdom? no. But once you experience enough range of emotions you'll be finding your own words to describe the experiences some think to be left unexplainable."

Both men allow the words to fill the space in between them before Rhyker stirs feeling Silco's hand clamp down on his shoulder, "show me to your studies. If you're interested in how I think than I must know how you think."

─────── · ·

When the family all returns back home to your apartment, you order in take-out for the night as you all share your activities from the day. Jinx is first to jump to conversation, grabbing your hand excitedly as Silco chuckles, wrapping his arm over the back of your chair as he looks towards his daughter with a smile.

"Mom and I went to Zaun and-and I showed her my workspace and room. Then we did some graffiti, I never knew her to be so good at lettering- you really have to see for yourself! Anyways we also went to the diner and she got me this new necklace, the gemstone is only found at the bottom of oceans- how cool is that!" Jinx looks around the table, awaiting a just as engaged response as Rhyker nods, pulling on one of her braids with a smile.

"Good to know you had fun Blue," he teases, "me and dad drank and smoked together before he helped me with my homework-"

"Silco! you. did. not." You turn slowly in your partners hold, glaring at his nonchalant expression. "You said to bond, he did something I liked to do, I did something he liked to do... I see no wrong in it, darling."

You scoff, shaking your head, "Rhkyer you best know what side-effects those bring and-"

Rhyker sighs, "mom I was teasing. I only had one drink and didn't smoke, I promise." You glare at your son, analyzing his expression for any signs of deceit before nodding and placing a hand on Silco's knee.

"I swear you all are going to be the death of me," you mumble into your glass as Silco squeezes your shoulder, leaning over to whisper into your ear and your kids begin their own conversation across from you both, "I would follow after you just the same."

"you're proving my point further, Silco."

─────── · ·

─ · · ARCANE TAGLIST: @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420 @mommymilkers0526

[sweetbans29]

Long Way Home - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Part 2

Summary: Due to a huge miscommunication, Caitlin and your sister Kate are put through the worst week of their life (based on THIS request)

Warnings: angst my peeps (you asked for it), a happy ending

Word Count: 3.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN:

"I don't want you to go," Caitlin says, holding you against her. Your girlfriend of 2 years has not let you go for the last 3 days.

"That makes two of us," your older sister Kate says as she finishes making the three of you grilled cheeses.

Typically you would be the one to cook but since Caitlin had her arms around you 24/7 and the fact that you wouldn't be there pretty soon to make sure they are fed, you opted to let Kate take the lead in making food.

You were given your assignment a few days back and are about to head overseas. You knew this day was coming and so did your family and friends, but knowing never made it any easier.

Growing up, you knew you wanted to serve your country when you graduated high school. You knew when your elementary school hosted a day when active military staff and veterans came to your school for a service day. Your little third-grade self looked up to them and wanted to be them someday.

You went into the military right out of high school - going through training and then getting stationed only about twenty minutes out from where your older sister was going to college. It honestly was the best possible outcome for you starting off.

Kate meant the world to you. She's been your best friend since day one. Growing up people always thought the two of you were twins and honestly, you would have believed them. Kate is only 16 months older than you. The way your parents put you in school, Kate was a grade above you which kept the two of you close. The hardest year was when she went to college and you were stuck in your senior year of high school. The two of you would talk 24/7. She kept you updated on the transition from high school to college and you would keep her updated on your parents.

It was in Kate's sophomore year that Caitlin came onto the scene - Kate and she had become good friends as Kate took the freshman under her wing. You met Caitlin only a few weeks after Kate. You had some time in between training and your first post - deciding it would be fun to spend a few weeks with Kate. She introduced the two of you and it was like you had known each other your whole lives.

It was on that same trip that Caitlin asked you out, of course asking Kate for permission first. You didn't hesitate to say yes and the rest has been history. Caitlin's love for you hit hard right from the start and never stopped growing - you were the person to come into her life and opened her eyes as to why it hasn't worked with anyone else. Caitlin knew you were her end game.

Once you were stationed just outside of Iowa City, you moved in with Kate. Life was the best it had been in a while. You would go to all of Kate and Calitlin's home games and support them to the best of your ability. It was cool to get to meet more of their team, and they all loved you. How could they not? Kate and your apartment had been the hub for a lot of the team hangouts. It was a no-brainer since you had the best setup. Caitlin also practically lived there, which was also a pull as she would encourage the team since it meant she got to spend more time with you.

Slowly but surely Caitlin started bringing stuff over and found a home for it within your room. You not once complained seeing as she didn't really have much but knew how serious it was when she brought over her PS5 and her most worn basketball shoes.

"Are you sure it is okay that I am bringing all this stuff over?" She asks.

"I promise you, babe. It is perfect." You say and give her a smile.

"I just don't want to overstep," she says and you take hold of her shoulders.

"Hey - you know I don't make promises I don't mean," you say. She nods sheepishly. "I promise, this is exactly where you are meant to be." You reassure her.

When you found out you would be going overseas you had a sit-down conversation with Caitlin to break the news to her. She doesn't hide her frustration well but knows how much you pride yourself in serving your country. You tell her that when you go, she has to move in with Kate - not wanting either of your favorite people to be alone. You crack jokes with Caitlin about how she practically already lives there in an attempt to lighten the mood.

This brings it back to Kate making grilled cheeses with you sitting on the counter holding Caitlin.

"They are ready!" Kate yells in excitement over the perfectly cooked sandwiches. You grab a plate and immediately take a bite.

"Ahhh! Hot! Hot!" You say as you try to blow off the piece you had just taken a bite out, refusing to spit it out.

"Babe, you do that every time - will you ever learn?" Your girl teases you she grabs her own plate, blowing it off before taking a small bite herself.

"Hey, sometimes waiting is overrated." You say and go in for another bite. "Plus, when something is this good, if you could you would eat it in one bite."

The rest of the night is filled with light banter, cuddles from your girl, and another attempt at packing (which was quickly shut down when Caitlin held you captive on your bed, not allowing you to move).

Time moved faster than anyone would have liked as your send-off arrived. Your family came out, along with Caitlin and some of her team. They were there more as a support to Caitlin and Kate than to see you off but you were incredibly thankful for them.

You give hugs to your mom and dad first - they knew this day was coming and had much time to prepare yet still let out muffled sobs and final last-ditch pleas to stay.

You give hugs to all the girls who came in support of your two favorites and tell each and every one of them to watch over both Kate and Caitlin while you are away.

Kate is next. The two of you stand there embracing each other, neither of you saying anything knowing everything already. It is only before you release your sister that she whispers something in your ear.

"I've got her," Kate says and for the first time yet you feel a tear roll down your cheek. You wipe it away as fast as it appears, not wanting to make this any harder for anyone.

You whisper a thank you and release her - looking at her with the best smile you could muster up.

Finally, you turn to the love of your life. And runs into your embrace faster than you can brace for impact.

"I want to tell you not to go," she says with a sniffle. "But I know how much this means to you."

"I will be back before you know it," you say - trying to believe your own words. The truth is, you don't know when you will be back - this is an open-ended assignment which wasn't common in the military but due to where you are going is needed for the mission.

"I will call whenever I can and I will write," you tell her. "It will be our own little movie."

"Just come back to me, okay?" She says as your heart breaks hearing the desperation in her voice.

You separate from her just enough to reach down and grab her hand. A few months ago you had gotten her a dainty little ring embellished with diamonds for your anniversary. It was by no means an engagement ring or promise ring but in this moment it would have to do.

"I promise I'll come back to you," you say removing the band from her right hand and placing it on her ring finger. Caitlin knows to not take your promise lightly. She knows you would do anything to get back to her.

Both of you know that there is never a guarantee but the little gesture was enough for both of you to have faith in your promise.

You say your final goodbyes and before you know it you are off.

The first few months are hard as it is an adjustment for everyone. You Facetime Caitlin and Kate as much as you can - thankful that the wifi connection you had was stable. You told her as much as you could about where you were at, making sure not to disclose anything that would scare either of your girls. Kate would update you on the usual - this not being too far off from what her transition to college was. Caitlin on the other hand took the transition really hard, always crying in Kate's arms after the call ended. None of which was disclosed to you.

The next few months were harder as you were moved to a secondary location where the wifi was less stable - sometimes cutting out for a few weeks or more at a time. You sent letters to let them know you were doing okay even if a call didn't come. Every letter you would end with 'Slowly making my way back to you' then your signature. Caitlin would grip every word you wrote, most of the time falling asleep with them in her hand.

You were almost up to your year mark with no update on when you would be able to return home. They had moved you back to a base that had better wifi which was helpful in keeping up with Caitlin but still not as good at giving her a date when you would be home.

Caitlin was doing better and was able to keep her composure after calls with you. Whenever you would have a call with your girl, Kate would jump on towards the end of the call and tell you how Caitlin was really doing. Most of the time it would end with your girl getting frustrated with your sister for disclosing more than what was needed but you always appreciated it.

It was when things started to feel normal when it all hit the fan.

Kate and Caitlin had just finished their shoot-around before one of their home games and were about to head into the locker to get ready when one of the assistant coaches told them they needed to head to Coach Bluder's office immediately.

The two girls redirected to head to the office thinking it had to do with tonight's game. The sight they are met with is one that causes immediate confusion.

"Mom? Dad?" Kate asked, shocked to see her parents standing in her coach's office. Your mom is a wreck in the arms of your dad who has clearly shed his own fair share of tears. Coach Bluder looks like she has seen a ghost and tells Kate and Caitlin to take a seat.

"What's going on?" Caitlin says immediately feeling her stomach drop thinking there is only one reason they would be here.

"Why don't you two sit," Coach Bluder presses again.

"No, I think I would rather stand," Caitlin retorts. She is trying to tell herself if she doesn't give in to what they are asking then the news won't be real. Kate touches Caitlin's arm, starting to come to her own conclusions, and takes a seat.

Your dad is the first and only to speak.

"We got a visit this morning," he starts only looking into Caitlin's eyes. He refuses to look into his daughter's eyes, knowing he will not get through what needs to be said.

"There was an attack to which they said there were no survivors." He says as slow as molasses.

Caitlin just stares at him. Not yet has he mentioned your name or anything about you specifically which only prolongs reality.

Kate asks if they had to send you there to help out, then proceeds to ask if you are hurt. She doesn't understand why Mom is so torn up over that.

Your dad's eyes are still trained on Caitlin's, not breaking to look at Kate when she asks.

"It was her base-" Your dad barely gets out before Caitlin is countering.

"Bullshit," Caitlin says, not blinking twice. She refuses to believe the words coming from your dad's mouth. Normally this would have taken him back but under the circumstances, he was ready for any and all reactions.

That is when your mom cut in.

"They found her tags," she sniffles out. Before she is sobbing again she says, "Alongside an unidentifiable body."

"They are still searching, but they told us not to be hopeful." Your dad finishes as Kate breaks down like her mother.

Calitin on the other hand is completely numb. Her head is spinning and she feels like she is going to throw up. Before anyone can speak again, she runs out of the room.

She runs directly home, entering your once-shared apartment. She makes her way to your shared room and just stands in the doorway. She hadn't changed a single thing since you left, not wanting you to come home to a completely different place. That thought flies out the window when the pain settles in and the reality of you not returning hits her like a ton of bricks.

Caitlin's hands go swinging. Throwing anything she could get her hands on. By the time she is done, she is out of breath - the room looks like a tornado hit.

She finally falls to the floor - letting out the loudest cry.

Picking up one of your old Military sweatshirts, she puts it over her head and holds herself.

You on the other hand are sitting in the most uncomfortable plane imaginable - giddy to get back to surprise your two favorite girls. Your Leutienet set up a charter for you and a select other few to fly back to the States. It was something that only he and one other person knew about, not wanting news to get out.

You knew it was going to take you a long time to get back but with the three plane switches and delays due to equipment transfers - your 2 day trip quickly doubled.

It wasn't until day 4 that you were finally crossing back into US territory. Once your plane entered US airspace, your excitement grew even more. You knew there wasn't going to be any communication to anyone prior to your arrival which made the surprise that much more fun for you.

When you finally arrived at the base - you were met with a crowd of people. Confused, you started asking what happened. One of the captains pulled your group aside and let you know there was an attack and that they didn't know if you were a part of it or not.

It was hard to hear but you were so over the moon about seeing your sister and your girlfriend that you didn't think of the possibility of them thinking that you were a part of the bombing.

When you got in your rental - you thought it would be better to surprise them in person than give them a call. You want to see the joy in their eyes when they first hear your voice back home.

You make the drive to your apartment and park along the street. You are still in uniform as you walk up the steps of your apartment. It is the middle of the morning and expect both girls to be back from practice.

Unlocking the door you walk in.

All the blinds are closed and there are tissues everywhere. Food boxes are left on the table and counter, and most of the food is uneaten. You furrow your eyebrows as you see a sleeping Caitlin in Kate's lap. She looks absolutely sickly with her head being stroked by Kate as Kate's eyes try to adjust to the new light source entering their apartment.

The light is so bright that it takes her a few moments to make out the figure standing in the light as you.

"This isn't real," you hear Kate mumble. "You're not real."

You slowly close the door and make your way over to your sister. You were expecting excitement and happy tears and love as you walked in but were met with none of that.

"She's gone," Kate cries. "You're gone. This isn't real." She keeps saying over and over.

It is then when it hits you that everyone thought you were a part of the bombing.

You slowly make your way to your sister as you kneel in front of her and your still-sleeping girlfriend. Little to your knowledge, this was the first time that Kate was able to get Caitlin to sleep for more than 10 minutes before she ended up screaming your name and jolting awake.

Kate is so defeated that her hand doesn't even come up to try and touch you to see if you are real. She is so convinced she is hallucinating.

It is only when your hand comes up and touches her face that she lets out a gasp and a sob. She cries out your name, waking Caitlin.

Caitlin blinks a few times while she sits up. Her hands come to rub her eyes, trying to get them to unblur from all the built-up tears that had fallen.

She smells you before she sees you. Feeling a sense of peace wash over her before more tears are falling. She still hasn't seen you kneeling right in front of her. Kate is sobbing into a pillow - in shock at who is before her.

Your hand comes up to Caitlin's and she jumps, removing it from yours. Tears begin to roll down your face as you can't imagine the living hell she has been through these last few days.

"Caitlin," you say in the gentlest tone. Her head whips up, eyes finally meeting yours.

At first, her eyes flash with rage. Not rage at you but rage at herself for initially believing you are there. They are then in shock - not comprehending the sight in front of her. Her heart stops as she says your name.

Your hands come to her face as you caress both of her cheeks.

"They said you were gone," Caitlin says in disbelief. tears streaming down her face as her hands come up to yours. "They found your tags." Caitlin really doesn't know what to say. She still doesn't believe you're in front of her until she hears you speak again.

"I promised I would come back to you, when have I ever broken a promise?" You say as you bring her in for a kiss.

AN: Welp here it is - let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hellooo!

Could you write about a farmer who feels unworthy of their partner's love with the sve adventurers, mages and Mr. Qi?

Thank you in advance. I hope u have a great day!🥰

Sure thing! Sorry for late reply, been a little busy with holidays and work. Thank you for your ask, dear anon! 💖 Happy holidays, and have a great day too!

_________________________________________

Isaac

"Who put that idea in your head?" Isaac's face was calm, but his look and voice would have made anyone's blood run cold in their veins. He was angry, for at first he thought that someone else's influence had made his partner think that way. When Farmer told the adventurer that they're beginning to feel unworthy, Isaac was taken aback. Why? "You're a famous adventurer..." So? "A role model for many in Castle Village." So? "I'm just a farmer..." Not just a farmer. A hero of Stardew Valley. His lover. His soulmate. "You can find someone better-" After that, Isaac is sure to shut Farmer up with a kiss and seriously tell them not to dare consider themself unworthy anymore. He chose them because he loves them. Sincerely. And will kill anyone who says a bad word in Farmer's direction or even looks the wrong way.

Lance:

"That's where you're wrong, my soul." The adventurer sensed that something had begun to trouble Farmer lately, and waited for his partner to tell him what was wrong. He expected different answers, but not this one. Lance sits down with Farmer, as they need to have a long and heartfelt talk, so that there are no misunderstandings or miscommunications. Farmer is worthy, more than they can imagine. And before they can love someone, they must love themself. Lance will gently begin to list all their merits, their bravery and heroism, their hard work and kindness. For a pink-haired man, Farmer is a treasure he wouldn't trade for anything. He will gently help his partner with these thoughts: start celebrating Farmer's big and little wins, learn to love themself. Lance will remind them more than once how lucky he is that they met on top of a volcano.

Jadu:

"Oh dear.... that's actually my line, you know..." What? Farmer looked at the slightly slumped Jadu with shock, not understanding what he meant. The young wizard's face read melancholy and sadness. Can't Farmer see what a wonderful, brave and kind person they are? Didn't they realise that it was Jadu's good fortune that Farmer, who was the secret object of the Castle Village wizard's affection, had paid attention to him and asked him out? Yes, he sometimes felt unworthy, for even as a mage he was unremarkable. But simply feeling unloved doesn't mean you're unlovable, and Farmer was proving that he treasured Jadu and their relationship. The two lovers exchange hugs and a plan to deal with these feelings of unworthiness together.

Camilla:

"Wrong." Camilla said it so quickly and sternly that Farmer was even a little taken aback. It was very rare to catch the head witch of Castle Village in any other mood than her usual playful, joking, and light-hearted attitude. But as soon as the 'I am not worthy of you' came out of her lover's mouth, she immediately grew serious. "I don't want to hear those words ever again." She utters it, wrapping her arms around Farmer and pulling them closer, causing her partner to hide their face in her shoulder. Camilla might guess that Farmer's feelings of unworthiness are probably partly her fault, since in courtship the girl was an impregnable fortress and played with them. But she has genuinely fallen in love with them, the determined and beautiful Farmer, and in all seriousness says that they are worthy. Had always been worthy.

Alesia:

"What? How can you... say that about yourself?" Alesia insists that they need to talk privately right away. Did she do something to make them feel unworthy or hurt them in some way? Or has someone else planted a seed of insecurity in their thoughts? Sniper has no way of knowing why her love feels this way. It's heartbreaking to her that Farmer has such low self-esteem. They're enough. They are worthy. Always have been, are, and always will be. All her friends congratulated her and Farmer, and those who dared to open their mouths and say "Alesia is too good for that weirdo" got her fist in the nose. She loves them, and will help them love themself too.

Bonus Mr. Qi:

"Unworthy? Hmm. Huh. Ha ha ha." Oh Qi laughs heartily and apologises to the slightly offended Farmer for such a reaction to their words. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you know what you're talking about." Before Farmer wanted to protest, they and Mr. Qi found themselves in a place that looked like outer space. Screens of all of Farmer's exploits, all of their victories, all of the times they and Qi had been together flew in front of their faces. The mysterious blue man held an orb that was a miniature planet Earth. He announced to them that they were worthy of so much more than they realised, that Qi was willing to stop and start wars for them, that all the riches he was willing to obtain for them. Ready to lay the whole world at Farmer's feet. That's how much he loves them, his hero, his love. And they still think they're not worthy?

[loudclan-clangen]

Alright, now I'm curious, what are the rules of StarClan's Oneway Dunktank? Are there cats who can't touch it (mediators for sure but anyone else?) Do healers meet there every half moon? They can sacrifice a life to speak directly to StarClan but what about other times?

(Also you're not gonna believe this, I looked up effects of crude oil exposure and studies indicate it may cause Anemia and low white blood cell count, so maybe she got a bleeding disorder because she can't stay out of the Forbidden Jacuzzi).

VERY LONG, LOTS OF TEXT, SORRY I GOT EXCITED TO LORE DUMP

The rules/powers of the Black Water Pool and Starclan are intentionally very nebulous. 1. Because I think starclan is more effective as a mysterious force than a clearly designated entity, and 2. Because I would like to have some flexibility going forward in the comic regarding the powers/rules of starclan. Here's what's clearly defined:

Any cat can touch the oil, like physically speaking. They will not just drop dead unless something else is going on that is worsened by the experience. But something may be worsened by the oil, especially if they are deeply exposed to it, like swimming in it or ingesting it the way one might if they weren't specifically trained in how to interact with it safely (like a healer or a leader). This leads to rumors of cats being cursed with terrible visions (hallucinations), disease (coughs caused by respitory damage), or wounds (chemical burns from prolonged exposure) because they touch the Black Water without permission. These could be actual curses from starclan, or they could be biological reactions to the oil, but that doesn't really matter because the cats believe that they are curses. (If that makes sense). For this combination of reasons, (religious belief and biological evidence), cats with open wounds, bad coughs, or who are actively pregnant are absolutely not allowed to touch the oil and are encouraged not to be near it. (Excluding dried oil worn by healers, we've covered in an earlier post that that is a stable form that isn't going to pollute others). This is justified by the healers as being times when one does not want to tempt death, and that being near the pool brings one's spirit closer to the dead, which is good for communing with them or asking them for favors, but bad when you are fighting for/actively creating life.

All of the leaders and their leadership teams have meetings staggered throughout the moon. Leaders and deputies meet on a full-moon, healers meet on a half-moon, and mediators meet on a new moon. (Gatherings also happen on full moons, just later in the day/night. The clans meet the leaders at the gathering place.) Healers might meet at the Black Water Pool but they do not always. Specifically, the Freezingclan healers refuse to meet at the Black Water, so if they want all of the clans' healers to meet they have to pick another place, usually the gathering place for simplicity. Since the healers can only commune with Starclan by sacrificing a life, they don't do it on a monthly basis and not meeting at the Black Water isn't inconvenient for them.

The healers (and leaders) can only speak directly to Starclan by sacrificing a life period. One of my biggest issues with the actual books is that speaking to Starclan is so casual that they constantly have to justify the cats not being able to in order to maintain any form of mystery or miscommunication, or risk making beloved characters look like jerks for not telling the living cats something important/make the entirety of Starclan look less powerful by claiming that they just "didn't know". My very simple solution to this is to put a layer of separation between them. In order to talk to the dead you have to die. This means that characters will only do so if they feel it is VERY important and they are certain that Starclan will give them a helpful answer, which they will not always do. (Why doesn't Wildfirecry ask Starclan how to cure Rosehippaw? Because he knows that there is a very high likely hood that the answer is "you can't" and then he'll lose both his daughter and a life that he could have used to help his clan in a more effective way).

Circling back to how normal cats are meant to contact starclan if they aren't allowed to touch the Black Water Pool by themselves, we finally get to talk about Loudclan burials! (This idea has been rattling around in my brain since the bonus art for Moon 18!) Okay, so: When a cat dies, the ground on the mountain is too hard and shallow for them to really be effectively buried. Due to this, the body is placed into a shallow dip dug into the ground and then covered by a pile of heavy stones in a make-shift cairn. The cairn discourages larger scavengers, like foxes or ravens, who might carry pieces of the deceased away, but allows smaller scavengers like mice and insects to eat away the fleshy bits. After a few moons, (during which family and friends are encouraged to keep their distance and learn to live without the deceased) when the scavengers are finished and all that is left are clean bones, the body is exhumed and repositioned so that the skull is left exposed outside of the cairn that covers the rest of the body. This is meant to allow cats to speak directly to the spirit of specific dead clan mates, though there is, of course, no expectation that the spirit speak back. (This is what we see Fiercestripe do in the Moon 18 Bonus Art). All burials happen in a field of forget-me-nots (small, blue. five petal flowers) as they cover the scent of decay, and therefore the cairns/graves are often decorated with them, along with other flowers or plants that may have been special to the deceased. Less commonly, a family member may ask to take a piece of the deceased from the cairn, such as a small tail bone or claw that they will wear to "carry the deceased with them". This is only allowed if the cats are known to have a close relationship, and is very frowned upon if the requestor is not a close family member or lifelong mate.

The major exception to all of this "Starclan is nebulous and distant" stuff is when I draw ghosts (like Bluepaw talking to Owlstar, which, admittedly, I drew before I had a good grasp of what I wanted to do with spirits and starclan). I know that it sort of negates that distance but... I just think it's fun. I think it's more fun to see what the spirits have to say (on occassion) than strictly sticking to never seeing Starclan outside of the Black Water Pool. So for those instances just remember that you, as the audience are getting sort of a third person omniscient view. You can see the ghosts but the characters in the story cannot (unless it is stated that they can due to like ghost sight or something).

Of course, as I said at the beginning, I'm trying to remain flexible, and I'm sure I'm going to break all of these rules at some point, but if I do my job correctly, then moments when these rules break should be important, and not just because I'm disregarding or forgetting them.

On a completely different note: You're not gonna believe this but I actually did know that! I did a decent amount of research into the effects of oil exposure when i was thinking up the Black Water Pool and yeah! It absolutely has played a part in Eklutna's condition. She's had hemophilia since birth, (which very simply means that her blood doesn't clot very well (for all of you biology nerds out there yes i know that it is rare for a cis female to have full hemophilia but it is possible if both of her parents had it)), but that has 100% been worsened by her love of swimming in "the forbidden jacuzzi". As long as we are sharing fun facts: exposure to crude oil while pregnant, while not always, can occasionally cause birth defects like weak lungs!

[kmartinswife]

kate martin x reader

heyy!

this is my first ever post on tumblr after being on here for 2 years... this is also my first attempt at a one shot/fic so please give me any pointers or critiques!!

———

words - 1050

a bit angstyyy but not really

warnings? just maybe alcohol and kissing.

Two weeks had passed since the end of your undefined relationship with Kate, and it had taken a toll on you. While spending countless hours together, flirting and being more than friends, it suddenly came to an end over some miscommunication. You didn't understand why she flipped out over nothing, and the pure dramatics she showed scared you from trying to reconcile. Both of you decided whatever you had was done and assumed it was over. 

Since both of you play for the Iowa Hawkeyes, you see her every single day. To the best of your knowledge, the rest of the team never caught on to the shared laughs, sneaking around, and secret glances. Your eyes still linger on Kate longer than anyone else, especially when she's laughing it up with Caitlin and Gabbie for what feels like hours. You wished it was you that was making her eyes light up and her smile wide, not Caitlin. 

You had tried to stay upbeat and confident, but it was hard when Kate paid no more than necessary attention to you. All you wanted was to reverse back 14 days and fix your fight. Apologize. Make her listen. Anything to get her back laughing with you and hanging out whenever you didn't have classes or basketball. 

At the 20 day mark, Iowa had come back winners from a home game, and the team decided a karaoke bar was the best idea for celebrating. You had played an amazing game, putting up your best numbers of the season. Kate hadn't even batted an eye. The press conference was a joke to you, reporters congratulating you and asking you how good it felt, but in all honesty you felt like shit over an ex-situationship. 

Hannah had to practically force you into coming to the bar after telling the team you had too much homework to party. This is how you ended up in your tiniest top and best-fitting jeans slouched on the bar alone, watching Kate flirt with a random girl. Jealousy filled you. Could she not do this another time? Why did it have to be when you were watching? 

"You played pretty amazing out there tonight," Gabbie approached you and took a seat, "and it's clear you dressed up a bit more than usual, but you're still sulking in a corner. Tell me what's up. Please?" 

You sighed and turned to look her in the eyes. Her eyes looked soft back at you as you stayed silent. You slowly gazed away and back toward Kate and her new girl. Gabby must've caught on. 

"Caitlin and I know about you two. She wants you back, if you can't tell," Gabby told you, "she was a mess before the game tonight. She's been a mess."

You guys discussed it, and you both were going to keep it a secret, you don't understand why she told multiple people. You finally found your voice, "It doesn't seem like she gives a fuck about me anymore. Look at her. I don't know if I ever made her as happy as that random drunk girl is," you stated.

"Come on, you know she missed you. She regrets walking away like that. Just talk to her, please?" Gabbie pleaded. 

Kate had left the girl and was now standing alone at the bar. She was leaned up against it, staring at Gabbie and you, displaying an unreadable expression. She was wearing dark black jeans, and a tight halter tank. Kate's hair was in a low bun, with chunks pulled out to frame her face. She looked hot. No wonder that girl flirted with her, Kate was astonishing tonight. 

"Gabbie, she's ignored me for the past few weeks. What do I even say to her?" You asked, nervous because of Gabbie's pressure. 

"Tell her how you feel. I am one hundred percent sure she will open up to you. I hate seeing you both like this," Gabbie replied. 

"Okay," you replied, and Gabbie gave your back a quick tap before turning away to play a drinking game with most of your teammates. 

You sat with your thoughts for a moment. Of course you forgave her, she was Kate after all, and it was really just a heated moment. Neither of you made a move to sit beside the other. There was a good chunk of room separating the pair of you, far enough you could hardly see her in your peripheral vision. You didn't believe you had the confidence to face her right now. 

Busy in your thoughts, you didn't realize Kate had plunked herself down right beside you. Neither of you looked at each other, rather choosing to remain cold and stare directly forward. She nested a rum and coke in her left hand, slowly pushing it around, revealing her rings decorating her fingers. The rings you used to love so dearly. 

“I should have stayed,” she started, “I’m sorry.”

You sat with it for a moment. Not daring to look at her. You knew you forgave her, so why was it so hard to get the words out?

“I really disliked not being listened to, Kate. It really hurt,” you said. You felt mature, putting your feelings out for show, “I want to understand you, that's all I ever wanted. But I cannot understand why you stormed out.” 

She turned to you, “In the moment, I was upset. I've run it through my head hundreds of times. I was unsure of what to do, so I left. I don't think I was ready to have a relationship-level fight with you. I just didn't want to hurt us. I want us back to normal — actually, I want more than normal with you, I don't want us to be a secret.”

You huffed and took a sip of your drink, “I understand. Thank you for apologizing,” you replied and turned toward her, looking into her caring blue eyes, “oh my goodness, I have missed you.” 

You leaned in for a hug and Kate accepted gratefully. You both missed each other so much. The embrace lasted as you were reminded of her simple, yet perfect, perfume, and the warmth of her skin. God did you miss her.

“You played so well tonight, it was amazing. You're amazing,” she told you as you leaned out of her embrace. 

A wide smile grew onto your features and you knew you were back on track, “Want to get out of here?”

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 1: A Long Time Ago...

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie Moonsun learned early that if he wanted to be saved, he was going to have to do it himself. The galaxy, the force, fate...they promised nothing but the dirt beneath his feet, and he only ever dreamed of the sky. But they also promised chaos, and chaos is exactly what he got one day, sitting in a cantina on Nar Shaddaa. Chaos in the form of a Star Tours flight attendant who would change his life forever.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Action, Meet Cute, Fluff, Romance, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Politics, Miscommunication

Note: This idea has been a long time coming, mixing two of the fandoms that I adore so much. Star Wars has been a part of my life since I was really young, it was the reason I studied costume design. It only felt right to drop my current Borbo LOML into it. Thanks to everyone who heard me ramble on about the vestiges of this idea for the past, idk, 2+ years, thanks to the Eddie Munson Big Bang for giving me the opportunity and motivation to write it, thanks to @undead-supernova for not only being my beta but for being someone who is barebones in SW knowledge so I can really test how accessible this story is, and thanks to my excellent Big Bang Partner @monologichno for being absolutely on board with my madness and my Original Character.

Although this story has a romantic pairing listed, this is truly Eddie's story and his chance to live the epic adventure he always dreamed.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Coruscant, 14BBY

This was everything he ever wanted.

And some things he only ever let himself dream of.

Eddie stared upwards at the towering skyscrapers. He let the lights twinkle in his eyes, absorbed all the sounds and smells, and tried not to smile.

This was it.

The moment it all changed.

He was just a small town boy and suddenly he was stepping into a brave new world, a big city with his friends, away from everything he'd ever known.

Away from his only family, his uncle Wane.

It was terrifying but he knew his uncle was proud of him.

Proud that he was gonna make something of himself, more than his father did or, truly, anyone else in the family. Proud that he waited and finished school first. Proud that he let his friends finish school too before springing them from their sad little destinies of putzing about their close-minded community.

Well, maybe not proud of that last one exactly. More relieved that Eddie wouldn't be out in the universe alone and that all of the boys would have each other.

Eddie was a little relieved about that too, to be honest. Jeff, G'areth, and Dayv had been his backbone for years. While other friends moved on, got themselves out and didn't look back, they made sure he knew that they were in it together.

Still, he would miss Wane. Hell, they'd miss each other, more than either of them could ever admit aloud. It’d been years since they had anyone more than each other to rely on.

Wane knew Eddie had a bigger destiny on the horizon and getting out was the first step and the hardest one.

But here he was.

Backpack slung over his shoulder, guitar safely packed away for the big move, lucky vest thrown over comfortable travel clothes.

Out of the pit he called home for the past 20 years. Free to be himself. Finally.

There was a crash behind him and he turned on his heel, idealistic daydreams forgotten, to find his friends standing over a fallen pile of boxes.

“Careful with those!” Eddie hollered and winced as another box crashed onto the durasteel floor of the landing platform.

"Kriff, I'm pretty sure it was part of my drum kit," G'areth ran a hand through his hair and heaved a long sigh.

"We're never gonna pass the cargo inspection if we don't have our shit together," Dayv panicked.

"Here we go," Jeff rolled his eyes as Dayv started heaving and whining about Empire this and trooper that. Eddie waved a dismissive hand and motioned for his friend to start restacking their belongings.

"Listen, hey, listen," Eddie grabbed Dayv by the shoulders to look him in the eye. "Breathe. When the inspector gets here, everything's gonna be ok. We're just a couple of guys coming to Coruscant to play a few gigs at some cantinas, trying our luck to make it big. And if it works out, maybe we'll stay. How many others have tried that before? Huh?"

"Tried and failed."

"You get it," he squeezed Dayv's shoulders and shot him a calm smile. "Bunch of dumb scrapper kids? We're not gonna make it far. In a month, we'll either be slinging Bantha Hash at a diner or fixing shuttle thrusters in some shop in CoCo town."

"I think I'm just nervous, Ed."

"It's alright. I'm nervous too. But what's the worst that could happen? We're not hauling anything illegal." Not yet.

"What if they just send us back?"

"Then at least we made it this far." He clapped a hand on his back.

If Eddie was a betting man, he'd put all of his money that they'd make it even further.

And he'd win.

The inspection went without a hitch, although all three of Eddie's friends nearly shit themselves at the sight of two stormtroopers in the speeder along with the imperial inspection officer. Which meant he did most of the talking.

He did pretty well, if he said so himself. Remained calm, had all of his paperwork in order, made sure to mention his father's old sabacc buddy—Lip Tonrick, a name that he always mixed up—as a contact.

He even got the inspection officer to laugh at a joke about their ship, a clunky old retrofitted defender-class corvette that he affectionately called the Dragonborn, thanks to its scaly red exterior.

Before they knew it, the inspector was off to the next landing platform, and they were in the clear.

Eddie turned to his friends with his arms out triumphantly.

"We're gonna do big things, boys!" he cheered amidst their whooping and hollering. "We're gonna make a name for ourselves."

He was gonna make a name for himself.

Eddie Moonsun. The best smuggler in the galaxy.

Nar Shaddaa, 10BBY

The crew of the Dragonborn walked into the Surly Sarlacc like they did about this time every few months: absolutely exhausted.

But that didn't stop the handful of regulars who recognized them to cheer at their arrival.

They parted ways to talk to familiar faces and get drinks at the bar, then returned to their usual table until it was time for their performance.

It wasn't the nicest cantina on Nar Shaddaa—located in the Red Light sector of the Under City, it had its own set of issues—but being away from the watchful eye of both the Empire and the Hutt Cartel up in the Corellian District meant that you could get away with more.

You couldn't even stop for a slice of pie at the Meltdown Cafe without getting stopped by some sleemo asking questions.

Eddie always preferred the seedier parts of planets though. You could talk to more people, hear interesting stories, and get better paying jobs. Plus, you could find real music, instead of the trendy, commercialized, sanitized entertainment in the tourist traps of the Upper City.

The Surly Sarlacc was just that kind of place. They'd found it on their first excursion on-planet, when they were younger and new to the smuggling game. They didn't have much besides contact with one of Lip’s buddies, but they had a reliable ship and a can-do attitude, so the owner of the Sarlacc took a liking to them. Not only their work ethic, but their music.

"We could have a two-for-one thing happening," he offered. "You do a few jobs for me, and you can play your little band here and we'll call it a cover. Call it even."

"And you'll give us free drinks," G'areth haggled with the Rodian.

"Kid has gumption," was the response, but a quick handshake sealed the deal.

The cantina had been their base of operations whenever they were in the system from that point on.

"If it's not my favorite guys," came a voice from the crowd once they'd gotten settled in at their booth. Thraffort Bing, a small-time Iktotchi spice dealer, elbowed through and took a seat at their table. "How was Jakku?"

"Sandy," Dayv scoffed. "I hate sand."

"I'm not in the business of advertising our travel plans Thraff," Eddie said with a sigh. "Were you looking for something special that we might've acquired at Ponemah Terminal or are you just making smalltalk before you ask us for a bigger favor?"

Thraff placed a hand on his chest in outrage, but dropped the act upon the skeptical glares of the whole crew.

"I might need a hand picking up a shipment from the Pykes," he admitted, immediately earning the groans of all four young men. He held out his hands and tried to play the innocent card. "Hey now, I'll make it worth your while."

"I hate doing deals with the Pykes," Jeff groaned. "You either insult them, or you insult the Hutts."

"They're gossips," Eddie added with a tight, condescending smile. "You remember what happened last time we worked with them, Thraff; the Dragonborn was flagged at every spaceport in the outer rim."

The conversation continued, the boys arguing back and forth with their potential associate until it was time for their set.

That was the real benefit of using the Sarlacc as their base—they could get away from unruly offers like that one.

They were quick to down their drinks and excuse themselves from the uncomfortable conversation.

Smuggling might have been the key to a continued existence for Corroded Coffin, but music would always be their passion.

Once they were up on that stage, things were different. They weren't just dumb kids, trying their hands at smuggling, stumbling their way through one job or another. They were living their dream.

The stage at the Sarlacc was definitely what one could call makeshift. But having some kind of entertainment in your cantina was always a bonus. A lot of the other places that Corroded Coffin performed over the years had dancers, some had in-house bands like theirs—they'd even played a battle of the bands once.

Eddie started strumming his guitar along to the beat, staring past the blinding makeshift spotlights that had been erected and into the crowd. Bodies shifted, heads bobbed, drinks were poured and served quicker than they had been before. The newfound energy in the room was undeniable, and it was all because of them!

And Eddie basked in it.

All of the good feelings, all of the applause, all of the joy and enjoyment, just because of them.

It was the same feeling he got when they finished a job; their benefactors were happy with their swift and discreet services, the smuggled goods always delivered on time and with very little trouble from either the Empire or the cartels.

For the first time in his life he was good at something. They all were.

They played for almost an hour, watching as patrons entered the cantina, stayed for drinks and entertainment, and then left.

And then something unexpected happened.

Among the sea of unrecognizable faces, leathers and homespun clothes, in the seedy underbelly of the Smuggler’s Moon, there was a flash of bright blue and orange.

A human woman with bright blue curls styled fashionably upon her head, and the cleanest jacket Eddie had ever seen in his life, let alone on this planet, proudly bearing a sharp and obvious logo on the sleeve.

What was a Star Tours flight attendant doing here of all places? And dressed so...conspicuously.

The Red Light District was about as far from the spaceport as you could get, and certainly wasn't a place for tourists. He'd seen many unassuming travelers come to Nar Shaddaa for the casinos or the clubs, and then get lured into the depths of the city, only to get robbed or swindled or simply disappear forever. Surely Star Tours gave that warning to their employees; if she just wanted to stop for a drink, she could have it anywhere else.

As he auto piloted through the remainder of the performance, Eddie's eyes stayed locked on her—as did many others with more nefarious purposes than him. He watched as she navigated through the crowd, seemingly unaware of the attention she drew to herself, and approached the bar.

At first, he thought she would sheepishly order a drink and maybe dance, but she tapped on the shoulder of a figure dressed head to toe in black leathers, head obscured by a helmet.

A recipe for disaster. You didn't just tap on people's shoulders.

But the leather-clad stranger turned and greeted the flight attendant enthusiastically, setting an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to the bar.

What a relief.

Although he no longer needed to keep an eye on the newcomer, Eddie still noticed his eye being drawn to that bright, colorful figure sharing drinks with her friend.

He figured that it was hard not too; once again, she was a seemingly obvious target here amongst a sea of strangers. Once though, towards the end of their set, he glanced up from his guitar to stare at her and his eyes locked with hers as she bobbed her head to the music. A sense of calm washed over him instead of the panic that he expected.

He squinted his eyes a bit to try and see her face a little better through the makeshift spotlights, and found her smiling and laughing along with her friend, who gestured wildly towards the stage. Her eyes shifted away for a moment and she said something, then back to Eddie, and then away again.

Back and forth a few times until she fully turned herself away from the stage.

But not before she gestured at him with an exaggerated clap, as if to say their music was good.

Eddie couldn't help the bashful smile that bloomed on his face.

It was unfortunate for Eddie that the person who'd gotten his attention was such an obvious target, because that meant his buddies had noticed her in the crowd too.

"Come on, you gotta go over there and talk to her," Jeff insisted, hand clamped on Eddie's shoulder.

"I dunno man," he groaned and tried to roll his eyes at the suggestion.

"Did you suddenly become a monk overnight?" Dayv scoffed. "What is this?"

Eddie wouldn't call himself a philanderer—he knew other smugglers who were the biggest whores in the galaxy—but he wasn't exactly picky when it came to bedmates.

None of them were.

It got lonely in space! And there were so many beautiful souls out in the galaxy with stories to tell and moves to make and pleasure to give. Who were they to say no when they were not in the middle of a job and had an actual bed to sleep in, instead of their assigned bunks on the Dragonborn?

But there was something about this woman that felt...different.

Something that told him to go over there, and something that told him that if he did, it might change his life forever.

A feeling in Eddie's gut.

"To hell with your gut feelings, Ed," G'areth punched him in the arm. "Go over there and put the moves on her!"

"She's got blue hair," Dayv added. "You know what they say about girls with blue hair."

"You know what they say about Star Tours Flight Attendants," Jeff hissed the amendment in his ear. "They're always putting out and it's always wild. Now go and get it. This is all of our collective dreams and she smiled at you. Go!"

They all clapped Eddie on the shoulder and pushed him towards the bar.

It was the most nervous that he'd ever been in his entire life.

More than the first time he'd flown the Dragonborn, more than when he'd told Wane he and the guys would be leaving Bracca to start their own adventure despite the watchful eye and iron fist of the Empire, more than running his first job as a smuggler.

More than the first time they'd been hired for a job by Jabba the Hutt himself.

He tried to convince himself that this was just regular jitters, tried to practice pick-up lines in his head. He knew that if it was too strange and uncomfortable, he could just buy this woman a drink and then walk away.

But the moment he was at arm's length of her and her leather-clad friend, that calming feeling returned.

It felt...special. Different. It was addictive, like spice. Brought down all of the defensive walls that he put up and replaced them with tranquility.

Was anyone else feeling this? Or was it just him?

The leather-clad figure nudged the flight attendant and then gestured to him; they muttered something quickly in Huttese and then excused themselves. Eddie couldn't help but watch as they exited the cantina entirely.

Then they were alone.

And he was oddly ok with that.

"You just gonna stand there?" the woman asked with a small smile as she sipped her drink—a bubbling green concoction Eddie happened to favor when he wasn't going for whatever was on-tap.  "Or are you gonna order something?"

Eddie immediately stepped forward and tapped his hand on the bar; the bartender was quick to pour him a draft of Gamorrean ale.

"I'm Thalia," the flight attendant greeted as he took a sip. He glanced back at her, keeping his mouth on the rim of his glass as he observed her in close proximity.

She looked...tired.

That was the first thing that came to mind. Something that wasn't so obvious from afar, especially not with her polished exterior. She was about as old as he was—that is to say, not all that old at all, he'd just turned 26 not too long ago—but he saw it in her eyes and her posture and the way that she breathed. Exhaustion practically came off of her in waves, almost as much as the calm did.

She looked as tired as he did when he saw his own reflection. A good sort of tired, a fulfilled tired, but tired nonetheless.

"I'm Eddie," he finally offered in his own greeting. "Eddie Moonsun, nice to meet you."

"Your band played great up there," she said immediately. "You were great. Have you been together for very long?"

"We've been friends since we were kids," Eddie offered and leaned against the bar. "Actually started playing...7 or 8 years ago?"

Thalia snorted a bit of a laugh into her drink and then schooled her expression to something more neutral; Eddie narrowed his eyes at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, tell me, I can take a joke," he insisted. An interesting thought came to his mind, a bending of logic to try and explain why he felt comfortable here with her. "Had you seen us play when we first started? I wouldn't blame you if you booed."

"No, nothing like that," Thalia dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"Then what?"

She tapped a finger against the edge of her glass and then leaned a little closer to him conspiratorially.

"Awfully brave of you to start a band when the Emperor is so vocal about his hatred of culture." The corners of her mouth quirked, but she leaned back and her eyes shifted around. "Sorry."

"Hey," Eddie laughed. "If you think you're going to find anyone sympathetic to the Empire in here, I've got some news for you, sweetheart."

That was the kind of flirting he craved; the stick-it-to-the-man type that probably wasn’t flirting at all. He was as keen to one-night-stands as the next guy, but a little defiance always translated well in the bedroom. She had gumption; he liked gumption.

Thalia got a glint in her eye and she pulled her shoulders back confidently.

"I'm surprised we're allowed to have music in the galaxy at all," she announced. "The Emperor is a tyrant! Did you ever hear that he shut down all of the artist academies on Naboo? Naboo! That's essentially the birthplace of art in the galaxy."

Eddie tossed his head back and cackled at the fire behind her words.

"You sure you're just a flight attendant?" he questioned playfully. "Seems like you're trying to start a rebellion."

"Maybe not a rebellion." She scrunched her nose and took a sip of her drink. "But I can be a concerned and outraged citizen at times."

Eddie glanced back at his buddies at their table, who all shot him gestures of encouragement, then he looked back. He confidently took a step closer, until he was in close proximity, close enough to see beyond the tiredness again. To notice the plumpness of her lips, to hear her breathing, and see the color of her eyes.

A swirl of browns and greens, organic and wild. Something he wasn't quite used to, especially now in this life he'd made for himself.

"What else are you concerned and outraged about, Thalia?" he asked, voice soft and low.

She stared at him through hooded eyes, and replied seductively, "I'm concerned about how much of a cut you take off a smuggling job, and if I'd be able to afford it."

The impact of her words hit him hard. The realization.

He backed away from her and eyed her suspiciously.

So that was what she was doing on Nar Shaddaa.

"Not even a flight attendant then, huh?" he asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. He should've known that she wasn't interested in him, just what he had to offer.

"No, I am." She nodded, her eyes got soft and apologetic. "Gotta pay the bills somehow."

"Right," he scoffed. He knew how well smuggling paid the bills. "So what cartel are you working with? Crimson Dawn? The Wandering Star Gang?"

"None of them," Thalia shook her head and tried to close the distance between them again, almost desperately. "You could consider me...a freelancer. Or part of a network of them. Someone wants something, we find it for them, work together to help the product get to the destination."

"Lady, I've heard that before," Eddie scoffed and threw back the remainder of his drink. "Before I hauled a hundred tons of Death Sticks to Mondo-Mod's Arena of Doom. Have a nice day."

He slammed his glass down on the bartop and was about to turn and head towards his friends, when Thalia grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and tugged him back to her.

He looked into her eyes again and really saw the desperation there. He fought the calm feeling this time, choosing instead to try and harness his annoyance.

It didn't matter what she said to him. He would tell her to kark off and find someone else to haul freight across the galaxy.

"I'm telling you the truth," she insisted through gritted teeth. "I'm a one-person operation. There’s a bit of cargo at the Nar Shaddaa spaceport that needs to get to Coruscant and it must not be found by the Empire under any circumstances.

"I know I was kidding around earlier but I'll pay anything for your services. Yours. I know all about you, Eddric Moonsun of Bracca. You and your friends. And I set up this exchange, on this planet, on this day, knowing you'd be here. There isn't anyone else who can take this job. It has to be you."

He was shocked when she mentioned Bracca. Sure, it wasn't like it was a secret if you knew where to look, but in order to protect their families back home, he and his friends kept their cards close to their chests.

So how this...Star Tours flight attendent...knew was concerning.

And why she'd sought him out specifically.

"Me?" he snorted in disbelief. "Why me?"

"Because you might not think so but you have a reputation about you. And you might think you're mean and scary or suave or just a scoundrel...but you’re a good man. You're the kind of person who keeps their eye on a single woman who stands out in a crowd on a dangerous planet like this one to make sure she doesn't get hurt. Or worse."

He practically flinched at how well she'd dished out that observation.

"So when said woman comes to you and asks for your assistance, we both know you'd take the job."

"And what if I said no?" he questioned. "Because I'm about 30 seconds away from going to find my buddy Thraff and accepting a job he offered earlier."

The hand gripping his arm got tighter, and the calmness around him suddenly turned to desperation. It was palpable; he couldn't even explain it. He was about to open his mouth again to question just what the kriff was happening, when he stopped and looked at Thalia.

And she looked at him, tears building up in her eyes as she met his challenge. 

"Help me, Eddie Moonsun," Thalia whispered. "You're my only hope."

Next Chapter: Episode 2: Not the Smuggler You're Looking For

The Tag List for Luminous Beings is currently open; please comment/ask/DM to be added.

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch18.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "They'll Never Find Us" by Aviators. (Aviators, my beloved.)

At 7140 words, this is the longest chapter yet. Also, we're on the third document in my notes app. Holy shit.

SHE'S AWAKE!!! I was tempted to keep her unconscious (by writing about the two days between this chapter and the previous), partially to emphasize the agony of waiting and really push y'all into empathizing with Caitlyn. But I couldn't do it. I missed her too much. (Also, I made you guys wait an extra week anyway.)

So apparently, you're not supposed to lie down with broken ribs? Which is the only reason I've downgraded Caitlyn's injury (again). Basically, her ribs were badly bruised but she'll be fine in a few days. I did this explicitly so she and Vi can cuddle because they fucking deserve it at this point.

With most of the serum flushed out, Vi also can remember things a little more easily. So, of course, she gets to remember quiet mornings with Caitlyn. :)

AAAHHH, the bit where Caitlyn wakes up! I really wanted to make this an intimate little moment - honestly, how many people get to see the indents in your skin when you sleep too heavily? - that only Vi gets to witness. The messy hair. The rumpled clothes. The crusty eyes. Those are things that Caitlyn hasn't let anyone else see in five years.

Notice that Vi doesn't say 'I love you' out loud. They're both trying to feel each other out a bit; there's gonna be a little miscommunication and mutual pining in the next few chapters. (Caitlyn thinks Vi was repeatedly sexually abused by the Baroness and Vi doesn't know if Caitlyn has moved on in the time since the Purge.)

I'm really liking the imagery of Caitlyn's eyes being like the sky, and Vi associating that with freedom. Because we see the way she stands and breathes after Cait gets her out of Stillwater. And in this fic, we've established that she didn't get to leave the Baroness's mansion often and didn't see the sky much. So of course, Caitlyn is that freedom.

I actually wasn't sure about having Vi smile again this soon after the escape. (She last saw the Baroness... only three days ago?) But after that moment of seeing Caitlyn waking up... there's a feeling of comfort and safety that I think lets her finally smile again, even if only a little.

And of course, Caitlyn tears up. Because even after all of this, she wasn't sure she'd ever see Vi's smile again. :')

I also debated drawing out Vi's being able to understand speech, but I really wanted her back. I kinda figured that, if the serum was causing that inability to interpret words, then flushing it from her system would let her regain that ability. Caitlyn and Petra theorized the same thing, but they really weren't sure the blood transfusions would actually work. (That's what Cait means by 'it worked.')

I keep coming back to the idea that Caitlyn touches Vi so lightly because she doesn't want to hurt her or startle her or anything like that. And every time, Vi presses more firmly into the touch because she desperately needs to reassure herself that it's real. This wasn't intentional at first, but once I noticed it, I really leaned into it because I think it really fits.

UGH, GOD, just like. Imagine. Being imprisoned and tortured and forced to do terrible things against your will. And you can't remember who you are, you don't know how long it's been, you don't know if there's anybody out there who knows you and cares about you. And the only thing that keeps you from just giving up entirely is a ring that doesn't fit and a few vague memories. Imagine how overwhelming it would be to suddenly be free and safe and yourself again.

Caitlyn was a detective and was good at it. She wants answers, she wants to know what's going on. But she refuses to push Vi into talking when she's not ready. That's love, bitch.

The paragraph about hope not burning out, and standing among rubble and embers? I absolutely love that bit. I don't even know why. I'm just really proud of it.

Oh yeah, a few of you pointed it out in the comments, but Caitlyn absolutely doesn't want to tell Vi how long it's been since the Purge. She will, of course. But she desperately doesn't want to. I think part of it is that she doesn't want to admit how long she left Vi there. (It's not her fault, of course, but guilt doesn't work like that.)

The 'in and out of consciousness' does not include the time spent in the drainage pipe and on Nasir's ship. The two days is just the amount of time since the last chapter.

"The blunt edges of Vi's nails"??? They were jagged and overgrown last time we saw. That will come up again soon. :)

The only reason Petra doesn't wait for a response after knocking is because she strongly suspects that Caitlyn is asleep and won't answer. Normally, she wouldn't come in without permission.

When Vi shoves Caitlyn behind her, Cait makes a sharp sound. Vi bumped her bruised ribs. :(

VI, MY BELOVED DUMBASS. Shielding Caitlyn with her own body when she doesn't even have enough strength to sit up (that's pure adrenaline). I love her so much. Caitlyn is so startled that she doesn't react for a few seconds.

I always have to envision how the characters are physically positioned to write about them, even when it doesn't get described in detail. Vi is on her left side, propped up on left arm. Cait is behind her, leans forward to press her face into curve of Vi's neck and right shoulder. Cait's right arm comes around Vi's waist from above, and she splays her hand over the left (under)side of Vi's ribcage. Hugging AND holding up at same time.

Poor Petra. She has to deal with Caitlyn neglecting her health while worrying about Vi, and now Vi's proving to be just as self-sacrificing as Caitlyn. Just walks into the room and realizes, 'Oh, they're both stupid.'

Petra is also trying very hard to be what both of our girls need. For Caitlyn, it's familiarity, normalcy, a distraction from fretting over Vi, a reminder that things will be okay. For Vi, it's comfort, safety, autonomy, the balance between letting her make her own decisions and not overwhelming her with choices when she's already overwhelmed. That's why she asks for permission to come in (an important boundary to be respected) but directs the question about how she's doing to Caitlyn (addressing Vi as a person but not expecting her to answer a pretty complicated question).

It was so important to me that Petra ask permission to come in and later to touch Vi, because Vi hasn't been given that choice in so long. Petra has a history of dealing with abuse victims, which is why she thinks of things like this while Caitlyn didn't.

Vi is self-aware enough to know that she's not in a great mindset to be deciding who to trust and what's a threat. She knows that Caitlyn will keep her safe, which helps her calm down enough to decide to give Petra a chance.

Vi keeps wondering why she's so tired. It's because she's healing (which takes a lot out of you) and she has a fever (and the resulting fatigue).

Caitlyn is not going to take care of the clean sheets later. :)

There's just... so much that can trigger Vi right now. We're gonna be dealing with that for quite a bit. Meds, transfusions, IVs, touching her head/pulling her hair, certain words, etc.

The people Vi remembers when Cait bumps her thumb while she's panicking are, in order: Powder, Vander, Ekko, Tobias, and - of course - Caitlyn.

"Anything foreign in her veins" - girl, most of your blood isn't even your own at this point.

As soon as Vi manages to calm down, Petra redirects the conversation to Caitlyn, knowing that it'll distract Vi enough to keep her from panicking again. And it works; as soon as Vi realizes Caitlyn is hurt, she completely stops worrying about the meds.

"Barely sleeping" - Caitlyn, you were completely knocked out. It was the deepest sleep you've had in weeks.

I don't know, I just think it's very sweet that Caitlyn reassures Vi about her ribs not by brushing it off, but by guiding her hand there to check it herself. The nonverbal communication continues!

So, I have absolutely no idea what it would be like to try drinking and eating again after years of only getting nutrients and fluids through an IV. I'm just guessing. We've established that Vi can swallow, but only a little bit (blood, saliva, etc.). So, in theory, she can drink, but not a lot because her stomach can't handle it yet. She needs to be eased back onto food (refeeding syndrome) to let her body adjust. Water → clear liquids (broth, juice) → thicker liquids (milk, richer broth) → mashed food (applesauce) → easy-to-digest solids (toast, rice, bananas) → more complex solids. Vomitting is especially bad here because it can dehydrate her faster.

"Her body, broken and skinny and useless" - Vi is absolutely going to deal with body-image issues in the coming chapters. In a way, this is kind of 'non-consensual body modification' and I'm planning to treat it with the trauma that comes with that.

It's a good thing Vi decided to trust Petra because Caitlyn absolutely would not be able to get her upright without help.

Mmm, the intimacy of helping someone drink, of holding a glass to their lips and supporting their head. The need for both trust and carefulness. Also, the grief that your loved one was denied even being allowed to drink water (treated more like a machine than even an animal) and the guilt of having to deny them from drinking too much, even if it is for their own good. Especially when they're practically begging for just a little bit more.

And then Vi saying she's okay after nearly choking on water. They're so stupid and Petra's so tired.

Mad at myself that Caitlyn can't lie down and cuddle. >:(

When Caitlyn confesses about the blood transfusions, I want you to imagine the same nervous expression and tone that she used in the show, when she told Vi that she was seeing Maddie while they were separated. She can't go into this without telling Vi the truth.

"I refuse to lose you again" - God, they mean so much to me. But also, the idea that Caitlyn will do anything to not lose Vi. I love exploring the whole 'Yes, this is a good person. But, at some point, they become a selfish person. What do they have to lose to reach that point? When do they decide, "fuck everything else, I will not lose this one. Not now, not ever."?'

And Vi's trust in Caitlyn overcomes her terror of being injected with something without her knowledge and permission. :(

"She will never hurt you again" - maybe Caitlyn's right. But that doesn't mean the Baroness can't hurt someone else. >:)

(I'm eventually going to give a few more details about what Petra looks like, but I'm really curious to hear how y'all imagine her appearance? Please tell me?)

Teaser for next week:

Vi jerks back again, shaking her head in rapid refusal. "No. No, I - No IV."

The doctor heaves a weary sigh. "Vi, it's necessary. You're just being reintroduced to eating, to drinking. You need fluids and nutrients and, right now, antibiotics."

Vi shakes her head again, turning to Caitlyn. Her eyes are wide and frantic and terrified. "Cait," she chokes, "please, I - I can't --"

"Vi," Caitlyn breathes, quiet but desperate. "Darling, please."

[absurdthirst]

Services Paid For {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Infidelity, sex work, sex for cash, prostitution, mentions of safe words/limits, blackmail, bondage, restraints, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, toys, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, cock warming, unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol, drunken flirting, spanking, oral sex (female receiving), cum eating, face slapping, anal fingering, anal sex, rough treatment, anger, miscommunication and angst, harsh/derogatory names, apologies, guilt, make up sex, mistress arrangement, sickness, comfort.

Comments: Dave quietly gets the sexual satisfaction he needs by paying for it. No emotional attachments, just sex for cash. Which is how you end up in his apartment, surprised that man what you sometimes babysit for wants to pay for your pussy.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh as you look in your pantry, the bare shelves a painful reminder of how screwed you are. College was hard and the restaurant you had been waiting tables at had suddenly closed after a failed health inspection meaning that your income had stopped. 

Reluctantly you pulled out your phone and punched a text to your best friend.

‘So, this escorting thing… you promise that the guy is legit? He won’t make me do anything I don’t want to? And always pays?’

She had told you about a guy she had met on a dating app a while ago, she had fucked him a few times but he didn’t like to sleep with the same person more than twice. No emotions. No feelings. Just someone to scratch and itch and he’d pay handsomely for their discretion. 

He had reached out to her and asked if she knew anyone free that weekend because he needed some relief, and she knew about your predicament and said she’d speak to you. 

Initially you had refused to even hear it, saying you’d ‘rather starve’ than let some ‘bored two pump chump husband’ fuck you. 

But with rent due and your tummy rumbling, desperate times turn to desperate measures. 

Dave checks the burner phone. A prepaid cell that isn't tied to him in any way. Bought with cash in some rinky-dink store, not even bought by him. One that was safe for him to use for his various transgressions that Carol doesn't ever need to know about, though he's sure that she's somewhat aware of what he does. She couldn't be that stupid to not guess. 

He loves his wife but she's......boring. Unable or unwilling to give him what he wants sexually and not even open to discussing it. Sex is routine, bland. Every Thursday after the kids have gone to bed, he's allowed to fuck her. Missionary, with the lights off, her tits off limits since before Alice was born. He never truly got the release he wanted and he didn't even want anything too shocking. It wasn't like he was into heavy BDSM, just some bondage, spanking and face fucking. He wanted to cum over a woman's tits and have her eat his spend. Or let him bend her over and finger her ass while he fucks her cunt. So now the best option for him was to discreetly pay for it. His last girl had been used too many times but she's said she has a friend who could use the money. So now he's waiting for the text. 

‘She’s down. A little shy, not the most sexually experienced but open to being used as long as hard limits are discussed. She’s okay with anal play, but doesn’t want anal sex. No fisting. And no waste play. Everything else is on the table. Doesn’t want to tell you her real name, so is fine with casual endearments. Saturday at 7? Usual spot? Half the cash upfront and the rest as she’s leaving.’

Larissa texts Dave, happy that you’ve reached out for help seeing as you refused her offer to buy you some groceries, at least you’ll be able to eat this way. Dave is safe, not the friendliest or the chattiest but he’s safe. Respects the word no and honors safe words, limits and always pays. The fact he always makes his partners cum and is fucking gorgeous is just an added bonus to what will be a night of pure pleasure.

‘Send her the address. 7 is fine. Tell her to text if she's going to be late or backs out.’ Dave hums in approval, cock twitching as he wonders about this new girl. What she looks like doesn't really matter to him. He's attracted to all kinds of women. As long as she's eager to let him fuck her. It's a release, not a fucking relationship. 

He slips the phone back into his briefcase and sighs, checking his watch and striding into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. Needing to finish getting the girls ready for school so he can go to work.

Larissa sends you the information, and confirms again that you’re in safe hands. You text her a quick thank you before pouring yourself the last of your cereal and milk. 

  You’re undeniably nervous, anxiety taking the front seat but you can’t help but be excited too. Having never slept with a stranger before makes this new and exciting, and you trust Larissa when she says he’s a good fuck. 

Finishing up your cereal, you grab your bag and make your way to class, trying to distract yourself from thinking about what he might look like. You know from the area of the apartment you’re meeting him in that he’s good for the money, it’s a good thirty minute drive away over on the good side of town.

It's a good damn thing that it's Friday. Only having to wait another day before he can fuck away the stress of the week. Maybe this inexperienced girl Larissa knows will let him spank her. Anal's off the table but that's okay. There's a lot he can do to a cunt, a mouth. Even eating her ass would be more than Carol let him do. She barely wanted oral. There were times he wondered if she had a lover but it just seems like she's sexually repressed. Lingering Catholic guilt even though she's not stepped foot in a church in years.

The day goes by in a busied blur, you had agreed to clean up after a meeting for some of the faculty because any leftover food is yours to take home and before you know it, you’re filling up a tray with sandwiches, chips and sweet treats that no one had touched. 

On the walk home all you can think about is your plans for the next day, whether you should bring anything and what you should wear. Figuring that if Larissa is telling the truth, you won’t be wearing it for long anyway, but still wanting to look like you’ve made an effort. Nerves flood your system as you round the block to your apartment, your hunger being pushed away by your anxiety. A new constant battle of ‘am I really going to do this?’ Playing over and over in your head. 

You settle on yes. You haven’t found another job yet, and you refuse to move back in with your parents.

Saturday morning is routine in the York household. Dance practice or gymnastics, whatever is written on the calendar for the girl's activities. First thing in the morning, followed up by lunch out and ice cream while they play in the park. It's a picture perfect view of a loving family, but Dave is constantly thinking about later tonight. The apartment he keeps for his dirty little habit is clean and ready. He has someone come in every week to change the sheets and dust. He can afford it and his girls never go without. He doesn't feel bad about this. It's a need, just like those massages Carol insists are necessary for her to be a good mother. This is necessary for him to be an attentive and loving husband and father.

You sleep in as late as you can, having spent half the night watching a new series and being unable to sleep due to nerves. Larissa texts you a list of what not to do, and ensures that you won’t ask him anything too personal. 

You have your outfit laid out on the bed, a simple pink sundress and a matching lacy pink lingerie set. Nothing too fancy, but enough to show that you’ve made an effort for him. 

’This is a one time thing,’ you reassure yourself as you start to get ready, nerves steadily increasing as the time ticks by. 

‘$500’. Larissa texts, confirming the amount you’ll be paid for the evening. Enough to buy groceries and put towards the final part of your monthly rent. And with that, there’s no backing out now.

“Babe, I’ve got to run into the office.” Dave checks his watch and is satisfied that he will have plenty of time to set out any toys he wants to use before the girl shows up. “I’ll be a few hours, so don’t wait up.”

****

You arrive at the address a few minutes before seven, anxiety coursing through your veins as you make your way to the building, about to press the buzzer but the door swings open and the person leaving holds it open for you to enter. 

‘It’s nice,’ is your first thought as you enter the building, the hall clean and looked after with fresh flowers on each windowsill. You rock up and down on your tiptoes as you wait for the elevator, stepping into it with a large inhale the second the doors open and pressing down on the button for the top floor.

Dressed in casual clothes, Dave takes off his shoes and twists the rope in his hands. It’s soft and sturdy, perfect for Shibari and he wants to tie the girl up tonight. The idea already has his cock half hard and he wonders if she will show up.

After standing outside his apartment for a few minutes, you build up the courage to knock on the door. Knocking loudly three times before taking a step back and waiting to see who’ll be fucking you tonight. 

Dave sets the rope down and his feet slap against the cool marble floors of the apartment. Striding to the door, he doesn’t bother looking through the peephole, just reaching for the handle and letting the door swing open.

The door whips open and just as you’re ready to introduce yourself with the fake name you had decided on in the elevator, it’s like someone is dumping an ice cold bucket of water over your head. “Fuck.” You murmur. “Shit. I-I, Mr. York, I must have gotten the address wrong…” you start to garble off.

Dave’s emotions rush through surprise, anger and confusion but he realizes that the girl Larissa was talking about is you. The girl that Carol hires sometimes when she wants a date night or there’s some function they can’t bring the girls to. He glances around to find the hallway deserted and reaches out, grabbing your arm and dragging you into his apartment. “What are you doing here?”

You yelp as he drags you into his apartment, “I’m here to meet someone,” you say quickly, “My friend set it up for me. I must have put the address into uber wrong or something.”

“Let me guess.” He smirks and chuckles darkly. “Larissa?”

“Yeah,” you say, as your face heats up, “I didn’t know it was you.”

He’s never imagined fucking you, out of respect for the fact that you interact with his wife and kids, but he also never imagined you would sell yourself. He leans back. “Strip.”

You’re not sure why you don’t question it, why you don’t immediately turn around and leave the apartment that you now know belongs to Dave York. Husband of Carol York - parents of the two little girls you’ve babysat for for the past year. But you don’t. Instead you do as you’re told. Still standing at the entrance of his apartment, you begin to shed your clothes. Your jacket, dress and bra dropping to the floor as you stand there just in your panties.

“Naked.” Dave can’t even bark the order, but he’s reaching for the rope, the urge to bind you overwhelming right now.

You nod before reaching down and dipping your fingertips under the waistband of your panties and pushing them down your legs.

He reaches for you again, leaving the pile of clothes in the entryway and pulling you into the living room. The rope in his hands as he pushes you down to your knees and unravels the soft binding material.

“Mr. York,” you say with a gasp, as you realize what he’s about to do. “Are you still going to fuck me?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, bending down and pulling your arms behind you so he can tie your wrists together and then bind your arms to your body.

You don’t argue with him, instead you’re as pliant as you can be, letting him position you and tie you up with ease.

Next come your legs. Making sure they are spread as he ties you up. Pussy on display as your thighs are bound to your calves and rendering you completely immobile. 

When he’s done, he stands and moves over to his wallet, pulling out two crisp one hundred dollar bills and one fifty. Half the agreed upon price and he walks over with a smirk. Tucking it into the ropes around your breasts and making sure that the bills are completely visible.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask, as his eyes dip down to your glistening folds.

He doesn’t answer, pulling out his phone and opening it up so he can snap several pictures of you on display. Nude and bound with the money he is paying you for your body on display. Showing what a whore you are. His dark eyes find yours. “If you breathe a word of this to Carol, I’ll send these to your parents.” He threatens, holding up the phone.

It feels like a shot to the chest, “Why would I tell her?” You say, panic rising in your voice. “I would never, I don’t want anyone to know how desperate I am for money. And my parents… they’d never speak to me again.”

“Good.” Now that you understand one another, Dave sets the phone down and takes the bills out of the ropes. Putting them down on the table next to the sofa and humming as he looks at you. “Fuck, you are going to fuck me for a few hundred dollars? Your cunt worth it?”

“Yes,” you say with a shaky breath, “It’s tight. You can be as rough as you like and you don’t need to make me cum.”

Dave grunts, imagining you must be tight. “I make the women I’m with cum. Even the ones I pay for.” He squats down and slides his fingers through your folds, surprised to find you already starting to drip arousal. “You like the idea of being used?” He asks, knowing that your limits need to be discussed before he fucks you.

“I like the idea of you taking what you need from me,” you admit, “Using me for your pleasure.”

“That’s what I will do.” He promises, smirking as he stands up again. “Right now, you’re gonna suck my cock.”

“Yes, Mr. York,” you say, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs.

“Don’t call me that.” Reaching out, he taps the side of your cheek sharply. Not enough to hurt, but he likes the gasp you let out.

“Sorry,” you say with a gasp, “What should I call you?”

“Sir, or Dave.” He knows that things have changed since there is a personal knowledge of each other. “What do you want to be called?”

“You can call me whatever you like, sir,” you say, as your eyes dip down to the bulge in his pants.

“Good girl.” He likes a woman who is accommodating. Reaching down, he flicks the button of his jeans open. “Tell me what you don’t want done to you.”

“No fisting,” you say quietly, watching him intensely as he works the button on his jeans. “No anal sex and no watersports.”

“Anything else?” He knows about those but now that you are here, he wants to make sure you have not thought of anything else.

“I don’t think so,” you say with the tiniest shrug. “What are you planning to do with me?”

“Anything I fucking want.” He smirks, dragging his zipper down and pulling his hard cock out of his pants. He pushes them down and kicks them off before pulling his shirt over his head. “Right now, I’m going to gag you on my cock.”

“Yes sir.” Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, and your pussy clamps down around nothing.

He’s gotta give you credit, you don’t refuse. Opening your mouth in anticipation of him slapping his cock against your tongue. Larissa said you weren’t too experienced and he wonders why that is.

You wait patiently for him to feed you his cock, looking up at him all doe eyed and innocent.

The first thrust of his cock into your mouth isn’t gentle. It’s not a slow acclimatization to his length. He makes sure that he hits the back of your throat and pushes further still, feeling you choke and gag on him.

The noises you make aren’t attractive, as you gag around him. Fat tears are already welling up in your eyes and threatening to fall as his fingers grip onto your jaw. 

“Yessss.” He hisses, pulling his hips back and rocking them forward just as deep. Enjoying the way your eyes widen and your throat threatens to reject the length pushing past your gag reflex. If you get sick, he will just pull away.

You hollow your cheeks, and suck the best you can as he fucks your face. You wish you could hold onto his thighs to keep you steady but the ropes keep your hands in place. You can’t take your eyes off of his face, even when the tears start to stream, loving the look of pure bliss on his face.

His fingers slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Holding onto you while his hips rock forward, again and again. Making sure that he keeps pushing deeper until the hairs at the base of his cock press against your lips.

You gag louder around his cock as he pushes deeper, trying to catch your breath and breathe through your nose. You swallow hard a few times, and swirl your tongue around him.

“Shit.”‘Dave hisses, impressed that you aren’t trying to pull back. To compose yourself to make yourself ‘look prettier’ while he’s fucking your throat. He hates that. Sex is sloppy, messy in the best kind of way. He wants the tears and the saliva dripping down your chin.

You look up at him, staring down at you, his cock heavy on your tongue and wonder what he’s about to do next. You don’t have to see yourself to know that you look a mess, mascara must be streaming, spit has started to roll down your neck and your eyes are blurry with tears.

He feels himself start to get close, his body tensing and he pulls his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop. Wrapping his hand around his cock and slickly stroking it for a few moments before letting go.

You feel like you shouldn’t enjoy watching him stroke his cock as much as you do, but something about him being inches from your face and touching himself makes you slip out a moan.

“Are you on birth control?” Normally he uses a condom, but he wants to see his cum splattered on your cunt.

“I have an IUD,” you say softly, “I got tested when they inserted it and I actually haven’t had sex since.”

Dave groans and his cock twitches. “I’ll pay you another $200 if you let me fuck you raw. Cum in your pussy.” He offers.

“You don’t have to pay more,” you say, confused, “I already agreed to let you do whatever to me.”

“I never fuck someone without a condom.” Dave informs you. “If I’m fucking you raw or cumming inside your cunt, I pay extra.” He knows what other girls charge and he’s not going to take advantage. 

“Okay, sure, yes,” you say with a few nods of your head, “You don’t usually cum inside the other girls?”

“No.” He kneels down and swipes his fingers through your dripping folds and groans. “None. Never without a condom.”

You keen immediately at his touch, soft moans dripping from your mouth as he touches your soft skin. “You can fuck me however you need, sir.”

“Do you cum from sex?” Dave asks, fingers slipping inside you and curling up as you sit on the floor of his living room.

“No,” you admit, with a gasp as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

He groans when you clench down around his fingers and he nods. “Then I’ll make you cum with a toy.”

“I don’t think I have a g-spot,” you say, face heating up, “I meant what I said… you don’t need to worry about me. I’m just here for you to use.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt so he can untie your legs. Pulling you to your feet when he has them loose. “I’m going to do what I want.” He corrects you. “And the people I fuck, they cum.”

You nod silently a few times, standing in front of him still completely bare with your arms still tied. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay down on the bed, on your back.” He orders as he guides you towards the one bedroom in the apartment. “I’m going to tie your legs back up.”

Silently you do as you’re ordered, sinking down on the very comfortable large bed and waiting patiently for him.

He likes that you don’t argue. Don’t even look nervous. You are cool and collected, although you still give off an innocent aura. Bending your legs back again and tying you back up. Spreading your cunt wide for him to admire and use. “Now….are you comfortable?” He asks. “You’re going to be fucked for a long time in this position.”

“I’m comfortable,” you confirm, with a small smile. “Larissa said you like the traffic light system?”

“Red, yellow, green.” Dave confirms with a nod as he stands up again and moves over to a display cabinet with all the toys he has.

“I’ve never used it,” you say as you watch him, “But it sounds simple enough.”

“Red, I stop.” He explains as he decides in a heavy duty wand. “Yellow, I slow down and check with you.” Moving over he also picks up a pair of nipple clamps. Your nipples would look amazingly swollen and puffy from the pressure of the clamps. “Green, keep going. You are good with everything that I’m doing.” He turns around to come back over to the bed. “Just because I’m paying to use your body, doesn’t mean you don’t get a say.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still watching the back of him. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing what you like, right? or if I'm doing something wrong?”

“You won’t do something wrong.” He assures you with a chuckle. “Hard to take a cock wrong.”

“I’m pretty sure that every other girl you’ve had in this bed was more experienced than me,” you say with a shaky breath, “I just… you’re paying a lot of money. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I am paying a lot of money.” Dave coos, kneeling on the bed. “For a hole to fuck. To do what I want with your body and have you cum for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, as he inches closer. You’ve noticed how attractive he is before, but you’ve never been this close. The urge to please him is almost as overwhelming as he is.

He smirks, very happy with your easy agreement. “I’m going to put these in your nipples.” He holds up the clamps. “They will hurt but feel good too.”

“Anything you want,” you say, as you stare at the shiny pieces of metal in his hands.

Dave sets the wand down and carefully clamps the devices around your hard nipples and he feels the way your body arches up and he hums. “Color?”

“Green.” You look down at the wand and gulp, having never used one yourself.

He nods, tightening the clamps until your nipples are tight little buds being squeezed out from the top of the clamps, making him smirk at the sight and flick his finger over them just to hear you whimper.

“Dave,” you whimper quietly, as he smirks down at you. It feels good, a little painful but you like the way they feel.

“They will feel even better later.” He tells you, shuffling forward and picking up the wand.

“Yeah?” You ask, as he places a hand on your thigh, while switching on the wand.

“I’m going to have my cock inside you.” He explains, pressing the wand to the inside of your thighs to let you feel the intensity. “Let you cum around me.”

You gasp at the vibrations from the wand, and nod your head. “That sounds perfect.”

He teases the wand around your clit while he takes his cock in his hand, pressing the head against your folds and sliding it up and down to slick himself up. “Green?”

The loud moan you make makes your cheeks burn, “Green, oh fuck, that feels so good.”

“It does.” He grunts, notching himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push inside you as he moves the wand to your clit.

You find yourself staring at his lips, watching as he snarls his teeth behind them as he slots himself inside of you, “You’re so thick.”

He groans, pushing himself deeper as you flutter around him. Until he’s completely filling you, his hips pressing against the juncture of your thighs and he twitches inside you. “Now, be a good girl and tell me how this feels.”

“So fucking good,” you say between breathy moans, the wand pulsing against your clit nicely that you think you’re getting close already. “How do I feel?”

“Hot.” Dave grunts. “Tight.” He watches you, tilting the wand a bit more and turning it up another notch.

“Worth the money?” You say with a giggle, before biting down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming.

“Every fucking penny.” He grunts, wondering why you are selling yourself for money. He won’t ask now, just wants to enjoy this.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and he notches against something delicious inside of you. “Fuck,” you murmur, as he presses the wand against your clit, “Always thought you were so fucking sexy.”

He doesn’t really care if you found him sexy. All that matters is how you are feeling right now, what you are letting him do. He twitches when he feels you clench again. “Your little pussy likes the wand.”

“My little pussy likes you,” you say, correcting him.

He grunts, smirking as he pulls the wand up for just a moment before he puts it back down on your clit.

You hiss as he places back against your clit, you know you’re seconds away from choking his cock with your pussy, “I’m gonna cum,” you mumble over and over as your pussy grips  his cock.

“Good girl.” He groans, watching your eyes flutter and shut right before your mouth drops open in a loud cry.

You hear him groan as you clamp down around him hard, your orgasm ripping through you as cry his name over and over. The wand is still firmly pressed against your clit as you ride out your high.

Only when your entire body is shaking does he pull the wand away from your clit. Your pussy flooded with your cum and he rocks his hips, hearing his cock squelch. “One more? Or you want me to fuck you now?”

“Whatever you want,” you gasp, “Fuck, that was incredible.”

“One more.” He decides with a chuckle, turning the wand back on. “This time I’m going to move.”

You nod to let him know you’re listening, as he pulls on your ropes, before switching the wand back on. “Still green.” You say before he asks.

“Good girl.” He groans as he starts to move inside your cunt. Loving the way that you grip him, hold him tight in your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan, as one of his hands grip tightly on your hip. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Don’t think about my cock.” He groans. “Concentrate on your clit. The wand. Does it feel good?”

“So so good,” you say, as you concentrate on the little vibrations.

He grunts, keeping his thrusts shallow so he can feel every time you clench. “You’re gonna cum again.” He demands.

“Yes, Sir,” you say as your walls flutter around him, and your hips do everything to seek out more. “Gonna c-cum.”

“Hmmmm.” He grunts, watching you as he keeps pushing his hips, keeps feeding you his cock again and again. Listening to the obscene sounds of your cunt and his cock pushing in and out of it.

You cum devastatingly hard, everything going black as you start to convulse around him. A loud scream of his name tunnels out your mouth and bounces off the walls as you choke his cock with your quivering cunt.

This time Dave pulls the wand away, tossing it down and leaning over you. His thrusts sharpening, his hips snapping forward roughly as he fucks you through the tremors of your orgasm.

Every snap of his hips is enough to make your breath hitch, his pace is almost relentless as he fucks into you with all his strength. You feel him notch against paradise inside of you, a place you’ve never discovered as he continues a delicious assault on your pussy.

The moment his hips tilt down, he feels your reaction. The gasp and arching of your back giving away that you do have a g-spot after all. “There?” He hisses through clenched teeth. “Right there?”

“Yes,” you gasp, as he purposely shreds up against it, “Oh, fuck, Dave!”

“That’s it.” He groans. “That’s it, right there. Gonna make you cum.”

“Please,” you beg, as he fucks up into that spot with ease, making you moan his name over and over as you gush around him.

Dave grunts, sweat rolling down his temples as he buries his cock again. Shifting his weight, he takes hold of one of the clamps around one nipple and tugs it until it pulls off your sensitive flesh with a sharp snap.

You gasp as a sharp pain shoots through you, “Fuck,” you gasp again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

“Cum.” He groans, wanting to feel it again before he cums.

Your body immediately obeys his commands, and for the third time you’ve cumming hard around his cock. Exhaustion starts to rise in your bones as pleasure rolls through you in harsh waves.

When you clench down around him again, Dave snarls, rocking his hips even harder as he chases his own pleasure. Feeling the tingle at the base of his spine and tensing as his thrusts become sloppy. “Fuck.”

“Fill me up, sir,” you beg beneath him, “I wanna feel you drip out of me.”

That does it for him. The plea for his cum makes him groan. Pushing deep for one more thrust and pulsing deep inside you. Hot spurts of his seed filling you up and coating your quivering walls as he groans out your name.

You lay there sated, not that you’re able to move, but you don’t mind. Inhaling his scent and listening to his jagged breaths as he softens inside of you.

“Shit.” Dave groans, knowing he needs to move, to untie you but he wants to stay for another moment. “Color?”

“Green,” you giggle, “Should I be asking you the same question?”

“No.” He grunts as he finally pulls away, smirking as he looks down at his cum pushing out from around his cock. “I was the one calling the shots.” Reaching for the rope, he starts to untie you and massage your limbs.

“That was amazing,” you say, “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Dave hums, pointing towards the bathroom. “You can clean up, shower if you want before you go.”

You’re unsure if it’s the right thing to do but you can’t help yourself, before walking towards the bathroom, you reach over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek before making your way out of the room.

Dave frowns but he doesn’t move, watching you disappear into the bathroom before he stands up. Opting to clean up in the small half bath, he redresses and starts to clean the wand and clamps before putting them back and winding the ropes up.

Fully dressed and all cleaned up, you make your way back into the living room. Unsure how to approach the subject of collecting the rest of your pay.

Dave reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet when you walk into the room. The entire apartment looks like it had before you had walked in, save for the sheets needing to be changed. He pulls out the $450 dollars he owes you and holds it out for you to take.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling a little embarrassed about taking payment for what you just did. “I, uh, won’t tell anyone, not just because of the photos. Thank you, Dave.”

“Why are you selling yourself?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Are you in trouble?” 

You choke back an awkward laugh, “No. I’m not in trouble, I just… I lost my job. Rent is due. And I don’t want to go back home full time. You’re actually the first person I’ve seen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about what you’ve told him. “Do you want to come back next Saturday?” He asks, giving you the option. “Same time, same payment.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, “I mean, yeah, that would be great. Tonight was fucking incredible.”

“Don’t text my regular phone.” He warns you, pulling out his burner phone and holding it out for you to send a text message to yourself. “Don’t put the number under my name.”

You nod in agreement and send yourself a blank text. “Is there anything you want me to bring? Or wear?”

“Just yourself.” Dave shakes his head. “You don’t have to wear anything special, you won’t be wearing it for long.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you next week then, Dave. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He walks you to the door and closes it behind you. Frowning as he keeps his hand on the door after you walk out. It had been a surprising turn of events but he is interested to see if you show up next week.

The drive home is quick, and you find yourself immediately craving sleep. You think about the evening as you snuggle up in bed, how surprised you were when it was Dave that had opened the door and how guilty you feel about how much you wanted him. 

You shake your head as you let sleep takeover, dreaming about large hands keeping you still and husky voices making demands that have your pussy clenching.

****

“David, we should have a date night.” Carol looks up at him from her makeup vanity with a small pout. “It’s been months since we’ve gone out and it’s Thursday.” She sends him a coy smile, biting her lip. Obviously thinking that a date would make the Thursday night sex even better.

“Sure honey.” Dave’s eyes match hers in the mirror before he turns back to tying his tie and he says your name. “Why don’t you give her a call and see if she can watch the kids tonight?” You obviously need the money and he wants to make sure you aren’t going to say anything. “We can order the girls pizza for dinner and go out.”

‘Hey honey, are you free for a few hours tonight? Me and Dave need a date night. Carol.’

You read the next a few times, and feel the guilt bubble up in your stomach. ‘The money would help so much right now,’ you think to yourself.

‘Sure. What time do you need me there?’ You type back and hit send before you can change your mind.

Carol grins and looks up from her phone. “She can. What time?” She asks. 

“Tell her 6.” He pours his coffee and takes a sip. “That way you can get ready without the kids hanging on you.”

‘Can you be here for six?’ She types back a few minutes later, and you take a sip of your coffee and sigh. 

‘Six sounds great. See you tonight.’

“Thank you David.” Carol smiles and steps up to Dave, snagging his cup and stealing a sip of his coffee. “We will have fun tonight.” She promises, leaning up on her toes to kiss him. 

Dave hums, kissing her back but aware that he shouldn’t deepen the kiss past that point. “We will.” He nods, checking his watch. “But I’ve got to go to work now.” He steals another kiss before turning away. “Love you.”

****

You don’t have any classes today, so you spend the day cleaning your apartment and doing an essay that’s due early next week. Occasionally looking up and watching as the clock ticks off the hours. 

Just before five you decide to have a shower, taking the time to shave your legs and deeply condition your hair before getting out and pulling on the dress you had laid out on your bed just before. 

Anxiety bubbles in your tummy as you turn onto his street, admiring the rows of lush lawns and expensive cars, before pulling up onto his drive. Careful not to park behind his car, as not to block him in.

Dave steps out of the shower right as the doorbell rings. “Girls!” He shouts down the stairs. “Let the babysitter in!” He had gotten in just ten minutes earlier and was a little behind getting ready himself. 

“Hey, honey,” you say as Molly whips open the door, with a large grin. “You ready for a fun evening?”

“Yeah!” She bounces on her toes happily. “Daddy said we are ordering pizza!” Pizza cures all in the York household, the girls could live off bread, sauce and cheese if their parents would let them.

“Sounds yummy,” you say, as you step into the house. “Pizza and a movie?”

“That sounds good.” She bites her lip. “Can we watch Tangled?”

You tap your chin a few times, and then break out in a huge smile and before announcing, “My favorite!” Watching as she giggles happily. You follow her down the hall and into the kitchen, where Alice is happily coloring in at the table. “Hi sweetie.” 

“Hi.” Alice chirps before reapplying herself to her coloring. “Mommy and daddy are getting ready. Daddy said he was running ‘hella late’, whatever that means.”

“Oh,” you say with a little giggle, “Just an adult way of saying super late.”

“Ohhhh.” She shrugs and grins. “He was saying bad words as he ran upstairs.”

“Was he really?” You gasp, “Naughty daddy.”

“Don’t be a tattle tale.” Molly huffs, she always likes it when her daddy curses. It’s funny because he’s always so careful most of the time.

“Don’t worry, Molly, I won’t say anything. Do you guys want some juice?”

Dave rushes downstairs, dressed as the doorbell peels for the second time. “I’ll get it!” He calls out, knowing that has to be the pizza he ordered for dinner. He doesn’t want you to think you need to pay.

The sound of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, you’re nervous to see him again, but you can’t let it show. So you pour Molly and Alice out a glass of juice and get a few plates from the cupboard .

“Pizza’s here.” Dave announces, bringing the boxes back into the kitchen. His eyes find you and he wonders if it’s just his imagination that you are squirming.

“Come on, monkey,” you say to Molly, as you pop a plate in front of her, “Who’s hungry?!”

“Don’t let them eat too much.” Dave cautions. “Last time Molly stayed up half the night with a tummy ache.”

“Of course,” you say, looking at him for the first time since he came downstairs. He looks good, dressed in a nice suit with his hair styled back. “What time should I put them to bed?”

“Eight should be fine.” Dave hums. “Or whenever Tangled is over.” He smirks when Alice groans. “They don’t need showers or anything. Carol made them bathe when they got home from school.”

“Perfect.” You plate them both up a slice of pizza before reaching into the pantry and grabbing the ranch, knowing Alice would consume the whole bottle if she was allowed. “Are you going somewhere nice?” 

“Some little Italian place Carol wants to try.” He can’t really remember the name, he just called and got a table. “Supposed to have really good lasagna.”

“Sounds lovely, Italian food is always a solid choice.”

“Call us if you have any issues.” Dave murmurs quietly, watching you. “We shouldn’t be out too late. But we are going to pay you until midnight.”

“Oh,” you say with a grateful smile, “I’m happy to get paid for just the time I'm here. The girls are always such a delight.”

He shakes his head. “Take the money.” He urges you. “You are watching them at the last minute for us. Doing us a favor.”

You look up at him, and smile, “Thank you, Mr. York.”

“No problem.” He looks back towards the girls with a fond smile.

  You’re surprised at how relaxed you feel, pushing the weekend out of your head, right now he’s just the Dad of the girls you’re about to babysit. “Is there any laundry or anything I can do while you’re gone?”

“Not a thing.” He shakes his head. “Once the girls go down, watch whatever you want.”

“Thank you,” you say again, your eyes briefly dipping down to his lips.

Carol comes bustling onto the kitchen. “Oh, you are a lifesaver.” She exclaims, rushing over to give you a hug. “A date night is just what David and I need.”

“Trust me, it’s you doing me a favor!” You say, returning her hug, “If I have to eat ramen once more this week, I might scream. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She beams at the compliment and Dave hums in agreement. “You do look beautiful, honey.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“So, I’ll make sure these two angels are fast asleep when you’re home. And I’ll pack their lunch bags for school tomorrow. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do while you’re gone? I really don’t mind.”

“Make sure you…” Carol drops her voice, “take the rest of the pizza home with you.” She tells you dramatically, “otherwise they will want it for breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” you say with a giggle. “Have a great evening, I’ve got your numbers if needed.”

Dave arches a brow, silently reminding you to not text the other phone. But he reaches for his wife. “We need to leave if we are going to make our reservation.”

You take the obvious hint, and nod your head once. “Say goodnight to your parents, girls,” you tell them as they shovel pizza into their tiny mouths.

“BYE!” Both girls chorus out, making all the adults laugh. In a few more minutes, Dave and Carol are out the door and gone.

Taking a slice of pizza, you almost groan in delight at how good it tastes before grabbing yourself a drink. “So pizza and then Tangled, ladies?”

“Yeah!” Alice cries and Molly nods, her mouth full of pizza.

“Perfect.” You eat another slice of pizza as the girls finish up theirs and usher them onto the couch. Switching on disney plus and heading back into the kitchen to clear up the mess. You join them a few minutes later and snuggle up as you watch the movie. 

By the time Mother Gothel trips over the hair and falls to her death, both girls are passed out on the couch next to you, snoring softly.

You switch the movie off before gently scooping Alice in your arms, carrying her up to bed first before doing the same with Molly. You switch on their night lights and leave both their doors slightly ajar, so you can hear if they wake up or need anything. before tiptoeing downstairs and sorting their lunch for the next day.

You watch a few episodes of Law and Order as you snuggle up on their couch, waiting for the sound of Dave’s car to pull up.

“Daaaaaavid.” Carol giggles in the passenger seat as he pulls into the driveway and puts the car into park. “I want you, baby.” 

Dave chuckles quietly, aware that his wife might have had too much wine with dinner and maybe the espresso martini with dessert was putting her over the edge. “Yeah? We need to get into the house first.” 

She giggles again and nods, leaning over and tapping his cheek. “I- I’m even- I was to be….daring” she confides with an exaggerated wink. “From behind?” For her, that is daring, and Dave arches his brow in surprise. 

“My birthday isn’t for another three months.”

You heard Dave’s car pull up a few minutes ago,  and start to get your things together. Figuring they’ll want to be alone as soon as possible, you pull your coat on, grab your purse and the leftover pizza and wait patiently for them to come in.

Carol is handsy, tipsy and giggly as Dave hauls her from the car towards the door. Groping his cock and loudly telling him that she wants to suck it, something she never does except for extremely special occasions. “Okay, let’s get you inside.” He grunts, knowing that she’s probably going to be too drunk for even the Thursday night sex he normally gets.

You overhear the conversation between the two of them and hate the pang of jealousy that lights up in your stomach. You’re ready to get paid and to just get out of there.

The door opens and Carol spills inside, Dave holding onto her so she doesn’t go sprawling and he’s surprised to see you waiting. “Dave, baby, f-fu- have sex with me?” She can’t even say ‘fuck’ when she’s plastered. Dave rolls his eyes and decides the best thing to do is to get his wife upstairs. “Stay right here.” He tells you, scooping Carol up with a small shriek from the woman as he carts her upstairs over his shoulder.

“Sure,” you say quietly, as you watch him carry the woman he loves up the stairs. Listening to her giggle and thrash about in his arms, whilst trying to keep the second burst of jealousy coursing through you at bay. You want to just leave, to pick up the money another time and get out of there but decide to just wait.

Once in the bedroom, Dave lays her down, and avoids the grabby hands as she flops back in the bed. “Dave.” She whines, a clear indicator that she’s hammered because she always calls him David. 

“I’ll be back, honey. I have to pay the sitter.” He knows that she will be passed out by the time he gets back upstairs and will probably regret this in the morning. “I’ll be right back.”

You can hear his footsteps running down the hall, and you can imagine he’s desperate to get back upstairs and fuck his wife. So you get your keys out, ready to take the cash and leave straight after.

“I’m sorry.” Dave shakes his head as he comes down the stairs. “Maybe having a bottle at dinner wasn’t a good idea.” He stops in front of you and reaches for his wallet. “Were the girls good for you?”

“Don’t apologize,” you say, with a shrug, “Sounds like you’ve had a great night. Perfect as always. Had some fruit for dessert and both were sleeping soundly before the movie ended.”

Dave chuckles and opens his wallet to start pulling cash out. “She’ll regret it in the morning when she wakes up with a hangover.”

“I’m sure you’ll see she has a good night before that happens,” you laugh, “So, I won’t keep you any longer.”

He thinks he hears the edge of jealousy, but he’s sure he’s imagining things. “Ten bucks says she’s already snoring.” He wagers playfully.

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug, “Thanks for this. Was lovely to see the girls again.”

“Hey.” He catches your arm as you turn towards the door. “Saturday?”

“Yes,” you say, with a smile, “Looking forward to it.”

“Good.” He lets go of your arm and reaches around you to open the door. “Have a good night. Shoot me a text when you get home safely.” It was something that had been in place before, Dave wanting to make sure the babysitters who watch his children make it home safely. It’s a dangerous world and he knows what lingers in the shadows.

“Will do, goodnight Dave.” You briefly glance down at his lips one last time, before shuffling out the door and making your way to your car.

Once the door is closed, Dave locks it, arms the security system and heads back upstairs. As he predicted, Carol is passed out, sprawled over his side of the bed and he can’t help but roll his eyes. He’ll have to get her undressed and tucked in, then go jerk off in the bathroom thinking about last Saturday.

The second you’re home, you put the leftover pizza in the fridge and shed your dress. Pulling on a comfortable oversized tee and climbing into bed. After plugging your phone into charge, you send a quick text to Dave.

‘Home safe.’

Once he gets your text, Dave can relax. Laying down on Carol’s side of the bed since she refused to roll over, he wonders what you are doing, and if you are looking forward to Saturday like he is.

You wonder if he’ll text back, but you doubt it. So you snuggle into your blankets and get comfortable, thinking about what he has in store for you this weekend.

****

Saturday rolls around again and Dave is waiting for you in the apartment. Slightly irritated with himself since he has never been so eager to get back here to fuck before. He blames it on not getting sex on Thursday, but he knows that’s not the case.

You press the buzzer and wait to be let into the building, excited to find out just what he wants to do to you tonight and whether you’ll be tied up again. 

He buzzes you in and is already holding the door to the apartment open, when you get out of the elevator. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.” His cock twitches and he wants to pull you into the apartment but he doesn’t. Instead he stands back and lets you come in. “Go into the bedroom and strip.”

“Yes, sir.” You walk straight into the bedroom and place your purse on the dresser, before unzipping your dress and removing your underwear. Placing yourself on the edge of bed and waiting patiently for him to join you.

Dave walks in and groans when he sees you naked. Waiting for him and he smirks. “Hands and knees, press your face into the pillow.”

“Any restraints today?” You ask, before getting into the position. Burying your face into the pillow, and trying not to think about how on display you are for him right now.

“Nope.” Dave is wearing sweats and a t-shirt, quickly discarded. Reaching out, he caresses your ass before he pulls his hand back to spank you.

You moan in pleasure at his touch. Rough or not. You’ve been craving him since that night, and seeing him Thursday just made those cravings more intense.

“Color?” He demands, slapping your ass again.

“Green,” you reply, loving the stinging feeling that spreads across your skin.

He holds both of your ass cheeks, spreading them wide and staring at both of your holes. He groans and rocks your hips back when you try to lean forward, shy about being exposed.

“Daaaave,” you breathe into the sheets, face burning as he holds you open.

He grins, pressing his thumb to your puckered hole just to feel you try to clench around it. Instead of teasing you more, he decides to shock you, leaning down and spitting on your asshole a second before he replaces his finger with his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, as his tongue starts to lap at you there. It’s like he can gauge what you’re about to do next, as he grabs onto your hips, stopping them from moving forward.

Dave is filthy, loving how you moan and squeak as he slides his tongue down to push inside your cunt and then back to the other hole. Carol would never let him do this, so he is going to do it to you. Even if you won’t let him fuck your ass.

You squeal as his tongue pushes into your puckered hole, feeling overwhelmed even though he’s barely touched you. But you can hear his delicious groans, the pleasured moans that are falling from his mouth and you know he’s loving it, and you find yourself getting off on his sounds on top of his teasing.

One hand slides underneath you and he starts to rub your clit while he uses his mouth on you. Pulling away briefly, he bites your right ass cheek. “Good girl,” he praises before he dives back in.

You start to relax as his fingers circle your clit, the feeling of his mouth back there becoming more enjoyable as you get used to it. “Feels nice,” you mumble into the pillow, as he doubles down in his efforts.

He chuckles against your skin and makes sure that you moan again at the next flick of his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn, as you rock your hips back, chasing his fingers and his tongue.

He just hums, pushing his tongue deep and flicking it inside you as his fingers continue their assault on your cunt.

“Daaaaveeee,” you scream into the cushion as you start to cum, your entire body spasming from the intense pleasure. 

Groaning, he keeps working you, wanting you to be limp with pleasure by the time he pulls his face away from your ass.

“Yellow,” you murmur, as he continues working your overstimulated clit after you come down from your high.

Pulling away, Dave uses the same hand that had rubbed your clit to caress your ass. “Too much?”

“Yes,” you say quietly, worried you’ve upset him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Dave shifts to lay down beside you and his hand continues to caress your spine. “You need a drink?” 

“No, baby,” you say, the nickname slipping out before you have time to realize, “Just need a few minutes and you can do whatever you want to me.”

He hums and rolls onto his back. “You’re going to ride me.” He decides with a smirk. “Bounce on my cock.”

You hum in excitement, “Yes, sir. You wanna fill me up again?”

“Are you okay with that?” Just because he had last time doesn’t mean you will want him to tonight.

“Masturbated every night this week to the thought of you watching it drip out of my pussy before pushing it back in,” you say as you swing your leg over, so you’re straddling him.

“And you’re supposed to be innocent.” He snorts and shakes his head, already gripping your hip. “You like cum play?”

“I am,” you say with a smile, “I guess so, you’re the only person to have cum inside of me without a condom.”

Dave smirks and slaps your thigh. “So climb on my cock.” He grunts.

You lift your hips and watch as he lines himself up for you to sink down on, you steady yourself by holding onto one of his shoulders before taking him. Pleasure immediately pouring out of you as you fill yourself with him. “Fuck,” you moan, “Was so jealous on Thursday. Wanted you to bend me over the kitchen island and fuck me instead of her.”

“Didn’t fuck her.” His chuckle is mixed with a groan and he smirks. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Oh, do I now?” you say as you start to grind your hips, “I feel a little guilty now. You didn’t get off and I went home and played with this pussy thinking about what you were planning for me.”

He twitches inside you and rocks his hips up. “Jerked off thinking about what I would do to you.”

“Yeah?” You say as you move a little quicker, “Tell me the filthiest thing you’d do to me.”

“Fuck your pretty little ass and then cum in your face.” Dave groans.

“Yeah? You want to be the first one to fuck my ass, Dave?”

He hisses, rocking his hips up again. He would love to, but he doubts he will see you again after this. He normally sees the girls no more than twice, occasionally three times. But he doesn’t want an emotional connection with anyone he fucks here. “Yes.”

“Maybe, I’ll let you.” You say, as he grabs on your hips, pushing you down harder on his cock.

One hand slides up to palm your tit as you start to bounce on his cock. “Let me know when you decide.”

“I know that you only see girls a few times,” you say, increasing the speed you bounce on his cock a little, “But if you want to do this again, I’ll let you. Let you fuck my ass as a final goodbye.” 

He groans but he doesn’t answer. Cock twitching and he slaps your ass again. It’s a good trick to get him to choose you again. One that he’s already considering.

His refusal to answer makes you feel overwhelmed with embarrassment, so you pick up the pace. Riding his cock and clamping down around him as hard as you can, desperate to make him cum and feel him fill your needy pussy up as quickly as possible.

“Fuck.” Dave’s eyes are on your tits as you bounce harder. “So good. Fuck, you gonna cream all over my cock again?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck, Dave.” You chant his name over and over as he shreds up against that spot that only he has ever been able to find inside of you. “So close.”

“Good.” He grunts, bracing his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you. “After you cum, you’re gonna clean my cock off with your tongue.”

“Oh, fuck. Yes please,” you plead, desperate to feel how his cock twitches on your tongue. You grind down on him a few more times before you’re thrown from that edge.

Your body shakes and you collapse against his chest as your hips stop moving. He doesn’t do anything, letting you ride it out until you are panting softly.

Once you’re a little more composed, you lift off him and silently position yourself between his legs. Before bending down and circling his weeping tip with your tongue.

“Fuck. Suck it.” Dave groans, grabbing your shoulder and sighing when you take him deeper. “But I want to cum in your cunt.”

You do as he demands, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking his cock whilst gently squeezing his sack. Letting him rock his hips so he’s pushing past your tonsils and making you slightly gag at the intrusion, knowing that he fucking loves to hear you gag from taking him. His groans are filthy, every single one going straight to your pulsating clit and you’re not sure who’s enjoying this blow job more.

“Touch yourself.” Dave orders, wanting you to moan around him.

Your fingers snake down between your legs and you circle your clit, your moans wrapping around his throbbing length.

  “Fuck yes.” Dave groans, watching your hand move between your thighs.

You resume your focus on working his cock, your fingers still circling your clit as you take him deeper in your throat. Slightly gagging as your nose nestles against his pubic hair, breathing deep through your nose as you hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as can.

Dave grunts out your name, closing his eyes and letting himself get closer to cumming with every pull of your jaw. “Fuck, get on my cock.” He orders.

You can’t resist hollowing your cheeks and sucking really hard one last time before you pull off him with a loud pop. You move to straddle him again, using his shoulders to steady yourself as you sink down onto him, “Fill me up, baby,” you say as sweetly as you can, grinding your hips as you do so.

Dave groans, taking over and instead of rolling you over and thrusting into you, he lifts his hips. Working his cock in and out of you frantically as you grind down on him. “Shit, shit, shit.” He hisses, fingers digging into your hips hard enough that he will leave bruises under your skin.

Two of your fingers start to circle your clit after gathering up some of the wetness that you’ve dripped over the base of his cock. Rubbing faster and faster, loving how he groans your name as your walls flutter around him and hug tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

Dave groans in agreement, cock pulsing and his hips stutter as he tries to keep working up into you. “Fuck.”

You pull your fingers away from your clit and work on riding him a little harder, focusing on his high and the gorgeous groans he’ll reward you with as he spills into you. “Please, baby.” You beg, “Fill me up, Dave, pleeeaaaaase.” 

Shit, he’s never had someone beg him to fill them up like that. Not even when they were trying for Alice. He gasps your name again as he’s thrown over the edge. Rocking his hips up to bury himself inside you to fill you up like you begged.

“Fuck. You’re perfect,” you whine, as it expertly hits that spot inside of you. “You going to cum for me, baby?”

“Yes.” The word is spat out as he starts to cum, growling as his cock pulses inside you.

You bite down on your lip as his cum floods your pussy, each thrust makes you chant his name like sacred prayer.

He groans, pulling you forward to collapse against him. “Fuck.” He pants quietly.

“How was that?” You ask quietly, as your body sags against him.

"Good." He groans, his hand sliding up and down your back as he continues to twitch inside you.

You hum happily before leaning forward and placing a fleeting kiss on his shoulder. “What’s next?”

He had cum a lot quicker than he normally does. Another couple of hours before Carol would miss him, if she wasn't already asleep by the time he got home. "You want another round?" He asks, amused with how greedy you are.

“Yes sir,” you say with a nod of your head, a smile stretching across your face. 

"Greedy." He huffs quietly. "How much will you charge me?" 

“Nothing extra” you say, with a shrug, your face heating up as he reminds you that this is all transactional.

He tuts and shakes his head, wondering if you understand that you should charge him more. You might enjoy it, but this is supposed to be something where you are paid for sex.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” you whisper quietly, changing the subject from money.

"From behind." He decides. "On your stomach."

You shuffle off him and lay flat on your stomach wondering what’s in store for you, knowing it’ll take a little while for him to harden again.

"No, not now." Dave shakes his head. "Turn onto your back and spread your legs."

“Oh,” you say, “Sorry.” Before turning around and doing as he commanded.

"It's going to take me a while to get it up again." He flashes you a sardonic grin. "Getting old." His hand slides up your thigh and he hums when he sees the first beads of his cum starting to push out of your cunt. "So I'm going to push my cum back inside you while we wait."

You hate the way your body immediately reacts to his hands on you, even just sliding them up your thighs he has you keening and wanting to beg for more. His tongue pokes out of lips, and you have to bite down on your own, so you don’t beg him to kiss you. “Touch me,” you plead softly instead.

"I'm going to touch you." His fingers slide through the slick of his cum and he gathers it on his fingers to push back inside you.

His fingers are like magic, pushing deep into you and teasing nirvana inside of you. You watch the concentration on his face, as he touches your pussy, and as he pushes his spend back where you need it.

“Can I—,” you start to ask, before stopping yourself, wondering if he’d be mad at you making a request, when it’s him paying you. But you can’t help yourself, “Can I taste us?” You ask shyly, “From your fingers?”

He grins, pushing his fingers deep to make sure they are coated in cum before he pulls them free and offers them to you. Smearing the wetness around your lips.

Your hands come up and hold on gently onto his wrist, and after he’s finished spreading your mixed release across your lips, you open your mouth and close your lips around his fingers. Sucking them gently, whilst swirling your tongue around his thick digits. Moaning at the delicious taste of you both swirled together. 

"Taste good?" He asks, soft cock twitching because of the fluttering of your tongue against his fingers.

“So good, baby,” you mewl, swirling your tongue around his fingers one more time.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slides them back down to your cunt to tease and push more of his cum back inside you.

“Why don’t you have a taste?” You ask, as he pushes his fingers inside your cunt.

"Maybe later." Dave watches you as he curls his fingers up.

He pulls a  loud gasp of his name from you with minimal effort, he fingers curling up expertly inside of you. “What if I beg?” you ask between moans, “Should I beg you to lick my clit? Knock $100 off the bill?”

He chuckles and keeps his fingers buried inside you. "You are bad with money." He teases, leaning in and nipping your collar bone.

“Is your tongue not worth $100, Dave?” You tease, before yelping as his teeth dig into you.

"You should be charging me to suck my cum out of your cunt."

“Yeah? Maybe I will. What is it that I'm getting tonight again? $500? Minus the $10 for that bet you roped me in on Thursday?”

"$700." He chuckles again.

“$701.” You say with a giggle, “I’m gonna charge you $1 to eat my little pussy.”

"Really bad with money." Dave jokes, curling his fingers up inside you again as he shifts between your thighs.

“I can demand more if you really want me to,” you laugh.

  "Good." He nips the inside of your thigh. He knows you have to make money, you have bills you need to pay. He's not going to take advantage of you. "What do you want?" He asks, flicking his tongue over your clit.

“More,” is the only thing you can bring yourself to say, it already feels incredible, he laps at your clit so perfectly. Making you writhe and moan beneath him with ease. “Keep your fingers buried inside me,” you plead, before losing yourself in him. The only thing you can concentrate on is the way his tongue feels on your pussy, and how good he looks between your thighs.

You're bossy, but he's not too concerned about that. He likes that you are telling him what you want. That you are demanding pleasure from him. Demanding that he lick his cum from. your folds. He hums and flicks his tongue again while obeying your orders.

“You look so fucking good,” you praise him, “You look fucking gorgeous while you’re eating my pussy.” Your fingers tangle in his hair and you give him a little tug, loving the way he snarls back at you. “Larissa told me that you only fuck girls twice,” you say breathlessly, “But I meant what I said… If you want to do this -ohfuckbaby- if you want to do this one more time; you can fuck my ass. I’ll never let anyone else do it ever. You wanna pay to fuck my ass, baby?” 

Dave hisses into your cunt, the idea already making him harden and twitch at the idea. He wanted to. He wants to be the only one to fuck your ass. He groans and curls his finger up as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

It makes you giggle when he hisses, your words clearly getting to him and you know he wants it. “Fuck,” you moan, as he brings you closer to the that edge, “Make me cum, Dave.”

He growls again, loving how you tug on his hair and he sucks on your clit like it is the last thing he will ever do. Curling his fingers up again as he does.

Your thighs start to shake, and before you have time to grasp it’s happening, they’re clamping down around his head as he pulls on earth shattering orgasm from you. Your hips rocking up against his face, throughout your high as you chase more and more from him. It’s messy, it’s loud and it’s fucking filthy. 

He doesn't pull away, doubling down on the pressure as he licks and sucks. Pumping his fingers deeper and harder inside your spasming walls as he draws every sound out of you that he possibly can until you push him away.

“Fuck,” you gasp, looking up at his face that’s glistening with your cum. He looks as wrecked as you feel, he snarls at you a few times as you pull at your hardened nipples. His cock is rock hard again, resting heavily against his stomach and the tip is an angry red that’s begging for release. 

“No safe words. No traffic light system,” you say with jagged breaths, “Everything is on the table, I want you to fucking destroy me, Dave. Right now.” 

It's like the restraints have been cut free. Bonds have fallen away and the only reason he's not flipping you over and shoving his cock in your virgin asshole is because you will need to be worked open to take him. His hands are bruising, harsh as he flips you over and his hand leaves a welt on your ass as he lines up with your dripping cunt. Snapping his hips forward to bury his length inside you within seconds of your last word coming out of your mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” you choke out, as he takes what he needs from you. “Use me. However you need.” His hands are rough, but you crave more and more. You crave him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, can’t believe you’re touching me… fucking me.”

  He swears he's never been this frantic. This rough. Unhinged as he pushes his hips forward again and again as he nearly fucks you into the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Good boy,” you grit, as he fucks you so forcefully that your legs start to buckle. “So fucking good. God. You’re so fucking perfect. Always working so hard for your family… working so hard for everyone.”

Snarling, Dave grabs the back of your neck, squeezing it harshly as he rams his cock as deep as he can. "Fuck."

You’re pretty sure your legs are about to give way beneath you, so you grab onto the headboard. “Fucking perfect,” you choke back at him, your abused pussy grips around his length as he plows into that delicious spot inside of you. “Fucking love this cock.”

He doesn't know how you are talking. Every punishing swing of his hips forces the air out of your lungs. Fucking the very air from your body as he pumps his cock into you.

You gasp as the next thrust turns your legs into jell-o, your arms no longer holding you up as you crumble into the mattress. You try to push yourself back up but it’s no use, but that doesn’t stop him, he continues his relentless pace.

Another few thrusts and Dave is pulling back, flipping you onto your back and shoving your legs up onto his shoulders as he drives back into you. Folding you over and pushing into you with hard, fast thrusts as he fucks himself down into your exposed cunt.

“Dave,” you scream as his thrusts rip the air from your lungs, he looks fucking wrecked as he destroys you. Every snap of his hips is designed to be punishing as you sink further into his mattress. You can see in his face how much he needs this, how badly he’s been craving this kind of release and you love that you’re the one to give it to him.

He doesn't know why he does it, maybe it's because he can. Or that under normal circumstances, he would never, but his hand comes out and he slaps your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you, just to surprise you.

You gasp. Shock apparent on your face, as his hand makes contact with your cheek. “Again,” you say quietly, as the fleeting sting makes your pussy clamp down like a vice around him.

Groaning, Dave doesn't let up his brutal pace but the sting of his hand on your cheek is a bit sharper.

“Fuck.” You grit out, as your cheek burns. “You want to mark me up? Slap me? Bite me? Fucking do it.” The words leave your mouth so easily, that it shocks you, but the urge to give this man everything is overwhelming. The need to please him is the only thing in the world that matters to you right now. “My body is yours.”

Your body will wear his teeth marks. He sucks and bites everywhere he can reach. Wanting to make sure that you feel him for days.

You hiss in pleasure as his teeth sink into your soft skin, before he picks up his pace again. Your fingers snake down to your needy clit and you start to rub circles into it, loving the way his cock harshly pounds into you.

"You better cum." He grunts, "better cum." He hisses it through his teeth as he bites down on another inch of your flesh.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, as you rub your little bundle of nerves a little faster. Feeling that fire set alight inside of you, it doesn’t take long until your walls are fluttering around him. Your pussy greedily sucking onto his cock as he continues his pace, “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to choke out before you’re convulsing in pleasure. Clamping down so hard that you’re pretty sure your pretty little cunt is choking his thick fat cock.

Still, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even change his pace when your walls start to strangle his cock. It requires more force, more pressure but he just keeps hammering away.

You flood his cock as you cum, gushing all over his length and dripping down his balls as you squeeze hard around him. All you know is white hot pleasure as he thrusts relentlessly throughout and as you come down from your orgasm. He grits something out from behind his teeth but you’re too deliriously blissed out to make out what he said.

He doesn’t want to fill you this time. Wants to paint your skin with his cum and watch it dry on your flesh.

You feel his hips begin to stutter, and notice his breath gets shakier. But he’s still refusing to let up on his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, only just drowned out by your moans.

The muscles in his arms bunch, straining from the effort to keep himself over you. Grunt and wiping away his sweat as he works towards the best fucking orgasm of his life.

“Cum,” you say softly, a plea not a demand, needing him to feel the kind of release that’ll free him of years of holding himself back. 

He hisses, eyes nearly black as he holds your gaze. pumping into you once, twice more before he is pulling free of your body and quickly stroking himself. Grunting as he starts to spurt his cum all over your skin.

You both stare into each other's eyes as he coats your skin. He’s doing exactly what you had said, he’s marking you. Temporarily covering you with something that confirms even if it’s just for a little while that your body is his.

"Shit." Dave groans, milking his cock for the last drops of his cum as your body heaves and trembles on the bed beneath him.

“Dave,” you say, barely above a whisper, “That was what you needed.” You lift a hand up to gently move the hair from his face, and let it linger for a few seconds before pulling it away. Exhaustion evident in your bones.

He frowns slightly as your body practically melts into the bed. You are exhausted obviously and Dave can't have you driving home. Your eyes are barely fluttering as you fight to keep them open. "You are going to sleep here." He decides, even though it will be the first time he's ever had someone stay in the apartment.

“I’ll be okay,” you say, hearing the unease in his voice, “It’s not a far drive.” You can feel your body starting to drift towards sleep, despite what you’re saying.

"No, you aren't." He murmurs, watching you fall asleep as he sits there. Huffing in amusement as he shakes his head.

It doesn’t take long until you’re flat out, dreaming peacefully as your achy bones get a much needed rest. In sleep, your arms wrap around his pillow and you bring it closer to your chest.

He climbs out of the bed and moves towards the bathroom to clean up. You have fallen asleep with his cum on your body. After he redresses, he pulls out his wallet and pulls out another $700 to lay on the dresser. You are out cold and he pulls up the comforter over your nude body. "Sleep well."

For the first time in a long time, you fall asleep and stay asleep the entire night. Snuggled up comfortably in a bed that isn’t yours, blissfully unaware of the front door opening and closing as he slips out and makes his way home.

****

"Hon, I'm going to run and grab some coffee." Dave kisses Carol's still sleeping form and smirks when she grunts and snuggles into her pillow even more. "'kay." she mumbles and immediately drifts off to sleep again, completely unaware of anything. 

  He's not going to get coffee. Or, he is, but that's not all he's doing. He wants to check on you this morning. Make sure you are okay since he couldn't exactly check in with you when you were asleep.

You’re still fast asleep as he re-enters the apartment, your body snuggled up to the pillow that smells like him as he comes into the room. Clutching two large cups of coffee.

He can't help but laugh when he finds you still asleep. Impressed with how well you seem to sleep in a bed that isn't yours. The faith you have in the arrangement is surprising. He sets the coffee down on the bedside table next to your money and starts to gather up the wash rags. He'll strip the bed himself after you wake up.

The inviting smell of coffee makes you stir, and slowly you open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how sore you are, your poor pussy aching after the delicious battering it took, the second is the sound of someone shuffling around in the bathroom. With a wince, you push yourself up and get the coffee, taking a large sip before setting it back down on the table before calling out his name.

Coming back into the room, Dave smirks when he sees you, disheveled and sleepy eyed. "Apparently I fucked you into a coma." He teases, balling up the towels and throwing them down on the floor. "Sleep good?"

“I didn’t realize that sex could turn a person to jell-o,” you say with a giggle, “Yeah. Like a baby. Thank you for letting me stay, I think I would have fallen asleep before turning the key in the ignition.”

"You weren't going anywhere." Dave shakes his head. "It would have been too dangerous." Even if he hadn't been comfortable with the idea, your safety was priority over that. "You want to take a shower? All the cum is dried on your skin."

“Probably best I wash it off before going home,” you agree. “I won’t be long.” Pushing yourself up on your feet, you feel your joints groan in disapproval. But the discomfort is a surprisingly welcome reminder, a way to remember just how real the night before was.

"Take your time." Dave shoots you a grin. "You seem a little sore this morning."

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you say as you stand completely bare in front of him.

"Oh I don't mind taking the blame for that." He boasts smugly. "Proud of that."

You giggle as you walk to the bathroom, “I bet you are, sir.”

When the shower turns on, Dave starts to strip the sheets, carrying them through the apartment to the washing machine. Deciding that he will start it after you get out of the shower before he leaves. The housekeeper would appreciate it.

The hot water feels incredible on your aching joints, so you stand there for a few minutes and just let it cover you before cleaning your skin. Running your fingers across the dried cum that’s coating your body before washing it off. It doesn’t take long for you to decide that you need to get out and eat, so you hurry yourself up and get dried and dressed as quickly as you can. 

“Thank you,” you say as you enter the kitchen, where he’s waiting patiently, “The hot water helped.”

"No problem." Dave takes your towel and rag to toss into the machine with the sheets. "Take it easy this week."

“Yeah, I don’t think I have much choice.” You say quietly, with a little smirk. 

"Don't worry about that." Dave dismisses your protest. "I dropped by to check on you. Bring you some coffee."

“Yeah, thank you, I drained the cup immediately,” you admit. “And thank you for last night.” 

"Thank you." He hums as he turns back. "Oh shit, hang on." He pulls his wallet out again and pulls out another $100. "For eating your pussy." He teases as he holds it out to you.

“No,” you say with a giggle, “That was $1.”

"Don't have any change." He shrugs and smirks at you. "Guess it's your lucky day."

“Dave,” you say with a sigh, “I can’t. But thank you. $700 is more than enough. And I guess we should really get going.”

"Take the money." Dave grunts, serious this time. "You need it." He's not being benevolent. You need money and you had given him far more than he had expected last night. 

After a few moments of him staring you down, you relent and take the money. “Thank you, I really enjoyed last night.”

"I enjoyed last night too." He smirks and tilts his head towards you.

“Good,” you say with a smile. You wait to see if he brings up seeing you again next week but he doesn’t, so you tuck the money into your purse and reach for your jacket. “I should go.”

"I'll walk you out." He offers, grabbing his coat and walking towards the door. "Big plans for today?"

“Going to swing by the grocery store and head home, you?”

"Gotta take the girls to some Disney brunch that Carol planned for today." Dave shrugs and smiles as he imagines how excited the girls will be. "Then I've got to do the yard work. You know? The honey-do list every man gets saddled with on the weekends."

“Honestly, disney brunch sounds incredible, I’m jealous,” you admit as you walk out with him, “Ah, yes. Happy wife, happy life.”

"That seems to be the motto, yeah." Dave shrugs. If he finds the conversation unusual to be having with someone he just fucked last night, he doesn't show it. When he reaches your car, he waits patiently as you unlock your door. "Drive safe, okay?" He offers with a smile.

“You too,” you offer back, lingering for a few moments before opening the door and stepping in. You can’t pretend you didn’t want him to suggest another meet up, even if it was just once more, but you had been told that he doesn’t like to see girls more than a few times so you shouldn’t be surprised.

Dave contemplates telling you to meet him here next Saturday, but he doesn't. Wanting more time to think about it as well as giving you a chance to change your mind. If you come here again, he's going to fuck your ass.

He watches you drive away and you give him a little wave as you begin your journey home. You go over the events of the night before and how good it felt to give him all the power. To let him hear exactly what he needed to hear.

****

He lasts until Wednesday. Leaving the office and pulling out the extra phone to send you a text. 'Saturday? Same time? If I can still fuck your ass.' 

You had hoped that the offer was enough to make him change his mind and you grin ear to ear after receiving the text. After you had left on Sunday, you had driven to the grocery store and made an unscheduled visit to another store across the retail park. 

You wanted to prepare yourself just in case he wanted to take you up on the offer, so out of sheer curiosity you entered the store. Speaking briefly to the shopgirl about your plans, she had suggested a small plug, one that you could wear around without noticing it after a while. 

Silver with a cute heart shaped gem at the base. Feeling particularly excited, you decide to show him just how much you still want him to take you back there. 

You type out ‘Was hoping to hear from you… I’ll be ready for you,’ before attaching a photo. One that shows your glistening pussy and the base of the plug sitting pretty in your puckered hole. 

Dave grunts, cock twitching in his pants as he stares at the photo. Loving how you have started to prepare even if you didn't know he was going to text you again. '$1000 to fuck that pretty little asshole of yours'

‘Perfect, can’t wait. See you Saturday.’

Excitement starts to bubble up in your stomach and you can only hope that the next few days pass quickly.

The week passes incredibly slowly for Dave. The sex on Thursday just as boring as it normally is but he thinks about how he had fucked you last week as he fucked her. It had made it somewhat better than normal. Although when Saturday night comes around, he is leaving the house, rushing to the apartment and eager to find out if you were ready to take his cock.

You arrive at seven on the dot. A tube of lube sits in your purse, despite being sure he already has some you want to make sure. You had done your research and wanted to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible.

“Good evening,” you say as he opens the door.

"Hey." Dave smirks as you shift in the doorway and he opens it wider for you to come inside. "Are you nervous?"

“A little,” you admit honestly, “But I’m more excited. I like giving you what you want, and I know how much you want this.”

He chuckles and closes the door behind you. "Are you wearing that plug?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say with a grin, “It’s pretty isn’t it? Bought it after leaving here on Sunday. ”

"I figured you did." Dave hums. "I want to see it."

Without another word you make your way to the bedroom, undoing the buttons on your dress on the way and shedding it the second you’re in the room. Having foregone wearing any underwear tonight, you turn around to face him.

He walks slowly behind you, watching and humming in approval at how eager you are. "Bend over baby, show me that plug."

It’s the first time he’s used an endearment on you, and it makes your breath hitch and your pussy clench. “Yes, sir,” you smile sweetly, before doing as you're told.

He groans, eyes fixed on the little bejeweled end of the plug. "Does it feel good, baby? You like it inside your little asshole?"

You wonder if he can see your pussy clench as he calls you baby again, loving the way it makes you feel. “Feels so good, my pussy feels so much tighter with it in. Could barely push two of my fingers inside of me last night.”

"Hmmmm." He reaches down and rubs his cock through his pants. "So you had to touch yourself last night, huh? I jerked off thinking about you. Stretching that little hole around my cock."

“Yes, baby, played with my tight little pussy thinking about you. Dreaming about the things I want you to do to me. Mhmm, I want to see you stroke your cock. Watch you cum.”

He chuckles quietly, aware that you aren't going to be getting your way tonight. Your little asshole is going to take his load and he's going to watch it drip out.

The urge to kiss him is one that’s getting harder to ignore, but you push it away. “So are you going to fuck this tight little ass or not?” You say, feeling impatient.

"Do you want me to spank you?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say, without hesitation. “Come get this pussy all wet.”

His eyes darken, excited that you are going to let him do whatever he wants to you. "Lay down."

“Okay, baby,” you say, excitement evident in your voice. You figure this is the last time you see him, so you’re determined to make it a good night.

"On your stomach." He orders, starting to strip down himself.

Without a word you flip onto your stomach, grateful that it’ll take away the urge to capture his lips with yours.

"Ass up." He orders. "Show me that little plug again."

Obeying his command you shake your hips a little, and wait for him to come over.

He chuckles, admiring the way your ass shakes. "Such an eager little slut."

“Just for you,” you say looking over your shoulder, “You bring it out in me.”

That comment makes him hiss in pleasure. Happy that he could make you craven for his cock. He's naked now, his cock hard and jutting out as he wraps his fist around it. "Good girl." 

“I want you to feel how tight my pussy is with the plug before you fuck my ass,” you tell him, “Come get that cock nice and wet.”

"Jesus Christ." His hand caresses your ass before he slaps it once, twice, three times and groans when he feels how hot it is.

“You know you’ve ruined all other men for me,” you say with a giggle, “Will spend the rest of my life knowing that no cock will live up to yours.” 

He doubts that, but his cock twitches at your praise. "Gonna ruin you even more."

“Please,” you beg, “Make me yours. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He groans and doesn't hesitate to notch his cock at your wet cunt to push inside you. Moaning your name at how tight you feel with the plug still nestled inside your ass.

He feels like heaven, you hiss at the stretch of him but you still want more, so you clench down around him, willing him to make you scream.

Dave grunts, reaching down and tugging on the end of the plug and pushing it deeper inside you while he starts to rock his hips. “Fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you almost yell, it stings a little but you love it. “Oh my god, Dave.”

“Feel so good baby.” He groans, rubbing your ass and slapping the other cheek. “So tight.”

“Keep calling me baby,” you beg, as you rock your hips back to meet his thrust. “Please.”

“You like that?” He’s surprised but he will keep calling you that if you want. “Huh, baby? You like me playing with your plug?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I think I could cum from you calling me baby alone. You going to make me cum and then fuck my ass? Claim what’s already yours.”

“Have I let you down yet?” He grunts, enjoying the way that you squeeze him.

“No, baby,” you giggle, rocking your hips back hard. Needing to cum quickly, as you’re desperate for him to overwhelm you. Ready to feel him every time you move again for the next few days. “So, make me cum, Dave.”

Dave huffs, amused by your sassy attitude and your commands. But he listens to you. One hand toys with your plug while the other rubs your clit. His hips rocking quickly as he fucks you.

You moan his name as his hand expertly works your clit, rubbing the little bundle of nerves so perfectly that he has you worked up in no time. He increases the speed as you start to clamp down on his cock, flooding his length with your cum while he rocks in and out of you.  “Harder, baby,” you beg, before he throws you over that edge.

He chuckles, leaning down and biting your shoulder as he slaps your clit lightly.

“You’re fucking amazing,” you choke out as you come down, and fall forward off his cock “So fucking amazing.”

Dave hums and twists the plug, pulling it out of your grasping hole with a small pop. “You ready for me here, baby?” He asks.

“I’m ready for you,” you say nodding your head, “Wreck me again, Dave.” 

“I’m going to go slow.” He shuffles off the bed to grab the lube from the nightstand.

“Okay,” you say, as you watch him get the lube and start to generously coat his length.

He brings the tube over to the bed with him and taps your hip. “On your back, I’m going to put a pillow under your ass.”

Turning around slowly, you look up at him and smile, lifting your hips so he can position a pillow beneath them. “You’re so fucking sexy,” you whisper as you look up at his face.

“You’re biased because I’m about to shove my cock in your ass.” He jokes.

“No,” you say softly, “You’re gorgeous… you fucking me is just a bonus.”

His fingers make sure that the lube is smeared around your hole and he can't help but press them into you. Feeling the resistance until he breeches you and groans at how tight your walls immediately grip his digits.

The noise you make is filthy, and it makes him chuckle. “Fuck,” you whimper, loving the small taste of what’s about to come.

He doesn't immediately pull his fingers out, pushing them deeper and scissoring them to open you up more and work the lube deeper. It will help you take him.

His brow furrows in concentration and he works you open, a smirk splashed across his face as you call his name.

When he slips a third finger inside you, he knows that you are ready and pulls his fingers free. "Just a little bit more lube."

“Okay, baby,” you say breathlessly, ready for whatever he’s going to give to you. 

Dave squirts some more lube onto his fingers and coats the ring of your hole before he grips your hip. "Ready?"

“I’m ready.”

He takes his time lining up. Savoring the moment as he watches his cock press against the tight little hole he is about to claim.

“Take what’s only yours,” you plead quietly.

That is what makes him start to push his hips forward. The pressure of your puckered skin exquisite against the head until it yields. Giving way as he starts to breach you.

You whimper as he pushes inside on you, your fingers gripping the sheets and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It immediately stings, but you refuse to let it show, wanting him to claim you in a way no else has and no one else will.

Once the head is completely in, he stops. Caressing your ass as he waits for you to get used to him. He doesn't want you to rip, to just endure him taking you like this. He wants you to enjoy it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, once he’s stopped.

"I'm good, baby." He promises. "Just letting you get used to it. I know it has to feel strange."

“It does, but I like it,” you say, before reaching up and stroking his chest. “You feel so good.”

"You want to take a little more?" He asks, smirking slightly.

You nod and smile, letting your hand fall back down to the sheets, ready to grip them once he starts to move again. 

You take another two inches of his cock. Keeping his hips rocking slowly, trying to be as gentle as he can even though you are tighter than a glove around him.

The whimpers that slip through your lips are loud, but you can’t help yourself. The stretch is overwhelming, but you focus only on the pleasure in his face as he fills you. 

"Good girl." He groans, "you're doing so good, baby." He pulls his hips back as he rocks just a bit deeper into you.

“More,” you gasp out, ready for him to fill you to the hilt.

You enjoy the pain. Biting his lip, Dave snaps his hips forward and buries the rest of his length into your virgin ass.

You yelp as he fills you, a sharp pain rips through you but he’s immediately soothing you. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how good you feel around his cock.

"So good, baby." He coos, leaning down and biting your shoulder. "It'll pass. It'll feel good. I promise." He groans, twitching inside you. "Do you feel how badly I want you? How I want this? You're the only one to give it to me."

“You’re the only one, I’ll ever give it to,” you gasp out, as you start to adjust to the heft of him. The throbbing lessening as you start to relax around him.

He groans, twitching again at your words. He loves that. Loves that you are promising to never let anyone else have this. Even if you did not mean it.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly, needing to give him release, needing to hear him groan your name in pleasure, “I can take it.”

"Not just yet." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't be able to take it right now, baby. We need to ease you into this."

“I want to make you feel good.”

"I do feel good." Dave groans, biting your shoulder again.

You moan as he sinks his teeth into you, before reaching down and rubbing your clit, needing something more.

"Such a greedy little thing." He grunts, watching you rub your clit. Your walls tremble around him and he rocks his hips deeper to grind into you more.

“You do this to me,” you moan, as you chase your pleasure. Feeling yourself clench around his cock and whimpering at the sensation.

"I do?" He grunts, starting to pull back slowly. Letting you feel every inch of him moving inside you.

“You do,” you say, as he starts to overwhelm you in the best possible way. “I’m ready, Dave, I can take it.”

He doesn't comment, he just grabs your hips and pulls your ass up slightly as he starts to push back into you.

You continue working your clit, as he slowly starts fucking into you. You can see from his face that he’s not going to last long once he finds his pace, so you start circling your bud a little faster, trying to concentrate on the pleasure rather than the pain.

"You're so goddamn tight." He grunts, biting his lip. "So goddamn tight. Like a vice around my cock."

“Yeah? Tell me how good I feel, Dave.”

"I'm going to destroy you." He vows with a hiss, growling at how good you feel.

“Then do it,” you challenge.

He chuckles and pulls his hips back so he can surge back into you.

Your breath hitches in preparation for what he’s about to do, your fingers gripping the sheets ever harder, “Fuck me, Dave.”

"Sure thing, baby." He groans, digging his fingers in your hips and starts moving. Groaning when your tight walls squeeze him.

It hurts, you can’t pretend it doesn’t, but the look of pleasure on his face is the only thing you care about.  “Fuck,” you hiss, as he builds up a delicious pace. Fucking your little hole like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

"Shit." He groans, easing up on how hard he thrusts slightly. The pinch of your brow when he bottoms out bothers him and he wants to hear you moan rather than just taking him.

“Keep going,” you plead, noticing how he’s decreased his speed. “N-need you to fill me up.”

"I'm going to." He promises. "But I want you to cum, baby." He groans. "I need it. I need to feel it." As much as he loves being in control and being able to do what he wants, he loves a woman being free enough to cum for him. To have her pleasure.

You nod your head and start to rub your clit again, circling your bundle of nerves and focusing on his face. Unable to tear your eyes away from his as he works himself in and out of your tightest hole.

Only when your breath starts to change does he speed up. Once your legs start to tighten around his hips every time he drives into you, he knows you are enjoying yourself. "You love it don't you, baby?" He demands. "Feeling my cock in your ass, pulsing and ready to fill you up."

“Yes,” you cry out as you still clamp down around him, “You feel so fucking good.”

He grunts, rocking his hips faster. "Keep rubbing your pretty clit." He groans. "Want to feel you squeeze me tight."

“I am,” you say with a raised eyebrow, knowing he wants you to speed it up.

Your fingers work your clit even faster, chasing that peak as you continue to squeeze and clamp down around him. “I’m gonna cum,” you warn, feeling yourself approaching that edge.

"Good." He grunts, watching you rub your clit, watching his cock pierce deep into your body. Watching your face scrunch up in pleasure.

You chant his name as you near your high, feeling yourself get closer and closer. And then almost screaming his name as you start to cum, clamping down so hard around him that it hurts.

Snarling, Dave can't help but fuck into you faster, pushing you harder as you cum around absolutely nothing and he watches your cunt leak out and down to where his cock is pistoning in and out of your other hole.

Words get lodged in your throat as he fucks your through your high, his groans get louder and the movement on his hips a little sloppier. You love how his cock throbs inside of you, as he grinds his hips into yours.

It doesn't take much longer. Not now that you've cum. Pace faltering and desperate groans accompanying the last few thrusts until he is stilling inside you. Pressed deep and wishing he could get deeper as he starts to flood your passage with hot spurts of his seed. Pumping it into you with every small thrust of his hips.

With every thrust he fills you, cumming deep inside of you and telling you how good you feel and how well you did for him. The praise makes you keen beneath him, whilst looking up and watching his face contorted in pleasure, continuing to thrust gently until he’s finished cumming.

Panting, Dave presses his forehead against yours. Savoring the last moments of closeness before he needs to pull out of you. His eyes slip closed and he hums slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

It’s hard to ignore the urge as his lips are almost brushing against yours, just millimeters away, so you don’t. You bring your hand up and lightly press it to his jaw and you press your lips to his. Moving them gently against his and almost swearing you could feel him kissing you back, until you’re being pushed away, back into the pillow and noticing how quickly his face has changed from pure bliss to anger.

Instantly his grip turns hard, pushing away from you like he's been stabbed in the back. "What the fuck are you doing?" He hisses, not easing out of you like he had planned but ripping free of your body as he glares at you.

You whimper as a sharp pain jolts through you as he pulls out, “I’m sorry, Dave, I di—, I’m sorry.” You stutter before whimpering from the pain.

"You're sorry?" He demands, sneering at you. "You're sorry?" He grabs your arms and pulls you up to shake you. "You're not my fucking wife." He roars. "I don't kiss whores like you!" He hates himself for kissing you back, for softening towards you and his reaction is purely based on that.

You look away from him, tears welling up in your eyes and you push him away. Getting up off the bed and rushing over to where your dress is. Putting it on as quickly as you can and going out to where your purse is in the living room, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing pain between your legs. You close up the last few buttons on your dress and slip on your shoes, wanting to get away as quickly as possible. 

Sliding into his boxers, Dave doesn't care about the need to clean up, the tears in your eyes. Still furious that you broke the unspoken but obvious rule that he had. He stalks over to his pants and pulls out his wallet. "Get the fuck out." He demands, thrusting the agreed upon money towards you. 

“Fuck you,” you sob as you take a step towards the door, “I’d rather starve than take another cent from you.”

Dave throws the bills at you, anger twisting his features. "Don't fucking come back."

You let the money fall down around you, and refuse to pick it up. Leaving it all behind as you slam the door, and rush towards the elevator.

Chest heaving, Dave glares at the door as he listens to the echo of your footsteps fade. A muffled sob sounding and he reaches up and wipes his lips, angry that he kissed you back. Angry that he wanted to kiss you again. That was the most fucked up thing of all.

****

A few days pass and you start to feel a little better. A local cafe had offered you the job you had applied for and you were due to start the following Monday, so things were looking up. 

You still refused to think about that night and pushed it all away the best that you could, keeping your mind busy by finishing up some college work that you had been slightly neglecting.

By the time Wednesday comes, Dave feels guilty. He shouldn't have reacted like that and worse, you didn't take the money. He sighs and pulls out the burner phone to send you a text. 'You need to come pick up the money. You earned it'

You read the text over and over, considering ignoring it and just moving on but you’re fully aware of your current financial situation. That money would be great to keep you going until you get your first paycheck, so with a sigh you text back and wait for his response. 

‘Where should I meet you? And when?’

'After work today. The apartment.’ He knows there is a bit of irony in that statement but it's the easiest place for you to meet him.

‘See you around 5:30.’ You text back before returning to your studying, not wanting to dwell on seeing him again.

The plan being to get there, pick up the money and immediately leave. Leaving no room for awkward conversation.

You shower and get dressed just before having to leave and make your way to the apartment, groaning at the traffic and the way it’s forcing you to deal with the nervousness that’s almost all consuming. 

Dave arrives at the apartment and decides that he will just give you the money and let you leave. He won't talk to you. There's no reason since he won't be seeing you again and he doubts you will accept an apology from him for what he said. He sighs and checks his watch, wondering if you will just leave him waiting and not show up.

Due to traffic you arrive a little late, but refuse to apologize. Instead you knock the apartment door loudly and wait for his answer, deciding that you don’t need to go inside.

When the knock sounds, Dave walks over to the door and opens it. Hating how his heart clenches at the unhappy glare that is on your face.

“Hi,” you say meekly, wanting him to just hand you the money so you can get out of there and never see him again.

"I'm sorry." Dave blurts out immediately, breaking his own rule about not speaking to you the second you greet him. The envelope with the money is in his hand and he extends it to you. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but I am." The least he could do is this before you leave. 

You nod a few times, unable to make eye contact with him before taking the envelope in his hands. “Thank you, Mr. York.”

"It's all there." He promises, dropping his hand and shoving it in his pocket. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks softly. Deciding to break his self imposed rule again and make sure he hadn't hurt you before you leave.

“A little,” you admit, not wanting to lie to him. “You ripped yourself out of me.” You look up at him for the first time, and can see how sorry he actually looks as you do.

"I'm sorry again." He murmurs, taking half a step towards you before he stops himself. You don't want him touching you. "I shouldn't have hurt you."

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you say, as you feel tears spring up to your eyes. “I should go. But thank you for letting me come and get this.”

"You deserve it." Dave insists, swallowing and frowning slightly as he watches you tuck the money into your purse. "You don't want to count it?"

“No, I’m sure it’s all there,” you say with a slight laugh, “Thanks again.”

"Thank you." He realizes you want to leave and have nothing to do with him, so he nods. Giving you a small smile, he sighs. "Goodbye."

Even after he says goodbye, your feet don’t move. Instead you stand there and stare at him, hating the way your traitorous heart falters at the thought of not seeing him again.

He frowns slightly, his hand on the door not trying to close it. "Do you…. want a drink?" He asks after another moment of staring at you.

“A drink would be good,” you say, knowing that you should leave but not wanting to go.

"Come inside." He offers, letting go of the door and letting it swing wide. "Unless you want to have it in the hall."

You step in and walk past him, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for him to bring you a drink.

Dave moves to the kitchen and pours you a glass of whiskey. He isn't quite sure what you drink but decided that just a neat drink would help.

“Thanks,” you say as he comes back in and passes you the glass. Taking a small sip of the amber liquid and placing it on the table in front of you.

It's a message but he's not quite sure what it means when you ignore the rest of the drink. He sits down in the chair and takes a sip of his own drink. "You aren't still sore, are you?" He asks after a moment.

“A little,” you say with a shrug, “It was a lot… and yeah, I made you mad, so you wanted to get out of me quickly. Didn’t help. But it’s better than it was.”

"I'm sorry." He repeats, hating that he had hurt you to the point where you are still sore. "I shouldn't have- I should have made sure that I pulled out slowly."

“It’s fine, I get that you were mad.” Picking up the glass on the table you take another sip, before shrugging again. “Nothing a few more epsom baths won’t fix.”

Dave frowns and shakes his head. "I will give you some money for whatever you need to....soothe the pain."

“I don’t need more of your money, Dave,” you say, a little frustrated that that seems to be the only way he deals with things. “It’s a few days old, sometimes things can take a little longer to start to feel better.”

"It's my fault." He argues. "The least I can do is make sure you don't have to pay for something you wouldn't normally."

You scoff loudly, “Stop. I know how you see me. But you’re wrong, I'm not just a ‘whore’, who’ll do whatever for a few bucks. I don’t need nor do I want your money, Dave.”

Dave's brow raises and he stares at you for a few moments. "So you aren't about to lose your apartment?" He asks, knowing the answer even as he asks the question.

“Fuck you,” you say, with a shake of your head. Regretting your decision to come in.

"I accept." Dave leans forward and lets his gaze bore into yours.

Your body immediately betrays you, and you feel yourself getting wetter under his glare. You should run, slam the door in his face but you can’t. Instead you slowly inch towards him, waiting for him to take the lead and make you forget everything but him.

"I hate that I still want you." Dave admits, sliding to the edge of his seat. "I only fuck the women in this apartment a few times to keep from having this." He grunts. "A connection. But I want you."

You can’t hide the shock on your face as he opens up to you, but you know he knows that you feel it too. “Looks like we’re both in the same boat. I want you too, Dave.”

He sighs, inching closer to you. "So what do you want?" He asks. "Baby."

“You’re only calling me that because you know what it does to me.” You say with the first genuine smile in days, “I want you. Nothing else. Just you.” 

"Move in here." Dave offers, his own smile starting to peek through the serious facade. The idea seems crazy and impulsive, but it’s actually one that makes sense.

“What?” You say in complete disbelief, “I can’t afford rent at my shitty apartment… you think I can afford to live here?”

"It wouldn't cost you a penny." He tilts his head. "I already have the apartment."

“So you’d let me live here for free?”

"Why not?" He asks, shrugging slightly. "I've already come to the conclusion there won't be another woman coming here every Saturday."

Lifting off the sofa you place a leg over his and slowly straddle him, “So, you’ll be my landlord? That I pay in different ways?”

That makes him smirk as he leans back in the chair. "If that's how you want to look at it." His hands land on your thighs and he slowly slides his palms up.

You hum happily, “Okay, I'll move in. Means I can be naked and waiting for you every time you come to see me.”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, holding on to your hips. “Be naked and waiting for me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, “Whenever you need it.”

“Even if it’s more than once a week?”

“Fuck yes, whenever you need it.”

His cock twitches at your answer and he smirks. “I like your answer, baby.”

“Good,” you say with a smile, a slight roll of your hips. “This went better than I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” He asks, groaning slightly.

“To tell you you’re an asshole and storm off with your money,” you say with another roll of your hips.

“You still have my money.” He points out, his own hips rocking up. “Instead of storming off, why don’t you slap me and call me an asshole.” He suggests. “Then fuck me.”

“Is that what you want, baby?” you smirk, “Maybe I’ll punish you. Get you right to the edge and then stop…”

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, not liking that idea at all.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” you say as you start to unbuckle his belt. “I think you should just make this little pussy cum and that’s it.”

He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t stop you from unzipping his pants. If this is what you want to punish him, then he will let you do it. Once.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” you reveal as you pull on his pants, he lifts his hips and helps push them down his legs.

“So you wanted me to fuck you when you came over?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Nope,” you say, putting emphasis behind the ‘P’, “just didn’t feel like wearing any panties today,” you lie.

“Hmmmm.” Dave grabs your hips to stop you when you straddle him again. “Maybe we shouldn’t fuck today.” He suggests. “Since you’re sore.”

“You just want to put your mouth on me then?” You challenge back.

“Who says I would do that?” He asks, smirking at you.

“Me.”

Dave rolls his eyes again and shakes his head. “You think you’re gonna boss me around?”

“Yes,” you say with a playful smile, “For today anyway.”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling guilty.” He huffs, sending you a small wink.

“Mhmm,” you hum back, “Show me how much you want me, Dave.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be fucking me?”

You roll your eyes at him before pulling on your dress, hitching it above your hips and waiting for him to line his cock up ready for you to sink down on it.

Dave chuckles as he slides his hand down and presses his thumb against your clit. “Thought you wanted to be in control, baby?” He coos. “Cum on my cock and then leave me hanging.”

“I’m going to,” you say with a pout, before sinking down on him. Wincing at the way it stings, and giving yourself a few moments to adjust to him. “Have you begging me for relief.”

Dave groans, frowning slightly and when you start to pull up, he holds your hips tight. “Just stay still.” He urges you, sliding a hand around to rub your clit. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby.”

“Oh, are you gonna make me cum around your fat cock?” You gasp, as he expertly plays your bundle of nerves.

“Thought you wanted to cum?” He asks, watching your eyes flutter and hisses when your fingers dig into his shoulders.

“I do, I just didn’t realize you were going to do all the work.”

“You want to do the work?” He asks, his finger hovering over your clit. “I can let you do that if it’s what you want.”

“Nope,” you say, as you wrap your hand around his and push it back down. “I’m going to keep this cock warm and you’re going to make me cum.”

He chuckles and starts to rub. “Good girl.”

The room quickly fills with the sound of your soft moans, his fingers expertly pulling pleasure from you. Your eyes drift down to his lips and your heart skips a beat as you realize they’re off limits to you, when all you want is to feel them pressed against your own. 

He’s watching you. Of course he is. He sees your eyes flicker down to his lips and he has a dilemma. He has broken all his self imposed rules where you are concerned. What is one more? “Kiss me.”

“Dave,” you say softly, before studying his face to see if he really means it. After a few moments you lean forward and press a fleeting kiss on his lips, a little afraid to push your luck.

His other hand slides up your back to cradle your head. Keeping you in place while he kisses you.

Your hands gently hold onto each side of his jaw, letting him take the lead and you open your mouth and let his tongue battle yours. His mouth feels like home. He kisses you with the most delicious intensity, the kind that makes you see fireworks and makes you melt into his arms. The kind that makes your entire world stop. 

He keeps rubbing your clit while he’s kissing you. Aware of how your hips start to roll and you whine into his mouth while his tongue flicks against yours. Making him feed you a moan of his own.

You don’t ever want him to stop, his mouth slots against yours so perfectly, it’s like it was made for you. You grind down on him, wanting more of him, wanting to feel his cock twitch against your walls that are hugging him so tightly.

Pulling his tongue back, he kisses you again and again. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks raspily. “Little pussy gonna flood my cock, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, against his lips, not wanting to part from them. He knows exactly where to thrust to find that heavenly spot inside of you, and he positions him to notch against it whilst continuing to rub your clit, chuckling when he feels your walls flutter around him. “So so close.”

“That’s it.” He coos, kissing you again. “That’s it, baby.”

Reluctantly you pull your lips from his, not wanting to risk biting down as you’re thrown off that edge. You clamp down tightly around him, gushing over his throbbing cock and chant his name. Feeling nothing but pleasure as he continues grinding up against your very own paradise.

When you are trembling, in the midst of your orgasm, he stops rubbing your clit and just watches. Amazed by the sight of your body shaking in pleasure and enjoying the pulsing, fluttering pressure of your walls around him.

“Fuck,” you giggle, as you start to come back down and everything comes back into focus. He’s watching you, still grinding his hips but concentrating on you. “Like the view?”

“More than I should.” He admits, shooting you a grin, but his hands softly squeeze your hips. “Feel good?”

“I feel amazing.” You gently press your lips to his again. “Come on baby, fill me up.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to cum?” He reminds you, pressing his kiss to your lips harshly. “My punishment.”

“Changed my mind.”

He hums and starts to move a little more. Still keeping the pace slower than normal. He knows you are still sore.

You rock your hips to meet his, wanting to feel him come undone inside your tight little cunt. “Cum for me,” you whisper softly against his lips.

“Shit.” He hisses, closing his eyes and rucks his hips up in abandon as he falls apart underneath you.

“Good boy,” you praise breathlessly against his neck, loving how it feels as he empties inside of you.

He huffs, about to say something sarcastic but you steal his breath. Just groaning as he holds tight to you.

“I’d let you stay buried in me forever,” you say, words pressed to his skin, “Fit so perfectly.”

He hums, turning his head and leaning in to kiss your shoulder as he pants. Trying to catch his breath and his spent cock twitches when you clench around him in an aftershock.

“Do you need a drink, old man?” you giggle, as he pants beneath you.

“Shut up.” He grumbles.

You giggle again, loving the way he groans as you flutter around his softening cock as you do so. Slowly you pull off of him and watch him immediately sink back against the chair before padding across the floor and into the kitchen and producing two bottles of water from the fridge. He hasn’t moved when you get back, and you fake sigh as you hand him his water. “I can see the headlines now… ’Poor old man fucked into an almost coma by younger sexy woman’.” 

He gives you a half hearted glare, no real heat in his gaze as he takes the bottle from you. "It's not Saturday." He reminds you with a huff. "Not used to Wednesday sex."

“Poor baby,” you say as you straddle him again, peppering kisses wherever you can on his flushed skin. “Going to have to work on that stamina aren’t we?”

Grunting he takes a sip of his water and halfheartedly glares at you. "Are you saying that I can't have a break?"

“Maybe,” you say with the loudest giggle, “Maybe I’ll just have you eat my pussy and then let you leave.”

"Let me leave my apartment?" He snorts and sets his drink down to wrap his arms around you again. "Are you going to be here when I come back?" He asks, wanting to know if you were serious about moving in.

“Yes.” You say and you gently brush the hair out of his face, “If you want me to be.”

“This apartment sits empty for the entire week.” He explains. “You should use it. Seriously.”

“What if you get sick of me?” You ask, with genuine concern. “I’d die if I had to move back in with my parents, baby.”

“How many times have I fucked you now?” He asks quietly, aware that you have hang ups for the idea. Hang ups that he created.

“Not that many,” you answer, deadly serious, “You’re sure that it’s me you want every weekend? Larissa was so clear that you don’t sleep with girls more than two times, occasionally three if they’re lucky.”

“And you’ve been on my cock four times now.” He smirks. “I-I want you to stay. I was wrong for what I said. How I acted.”

“Okay,” you say, pressing your forehead against his, “But no more paying me afterwards. Oh and I need to talk to you about my new job.” 

“New job?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes. I’m going to be doing the early morning shift at a cafe in town, which means being there at 4:30am by myself to get things ready. So on weeknights if you visit, we can’t be too strenuous.”

“I see.” Dave nods and strokes your back as he does. “Visits during the week will be rare.” He admits. “The girls are used to having me home unless I’m traveling.”

“That makes sense,” you say with a smile, “I just thought I'd warn you. I need to be up early.”

“I promise I won’t wear you out too badly.” He smirks and leans in to kiss you again.

“You should be getting home,” you say with a sigh, “And so should I. I need food.”

He pats your hip and when you slide off his lap, Dave fishes his pants up off the floor and digs his keys out. It's a separate set from his normal keys, ones that are for this apartment specifically. He takes off an extra key and holds it out to you. "You can start moving in whenever you want." He offers. "The housekeeper comes on Mondays and the code for the alarm system is 75332."

“Housekeeper?” You repeat with a raised eyebrow. “I have classes tomorrow but I can start Friday. Is there a washer & dryer on-site somewhere?”

He slides back into his pants and nods. "Through here." He shows you, walking through the kitchen into the area that was both a laundry room and a storage or pantry area. The sleek washer and dryer are normally only used once a week for the sheets, but he has a feeling that will change with you living here. "You can bring whatever you like, change whatever you want."

“They’re inside the apartment?” You say with an unbridled joy, “I might cum again.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You get off really easily then." He teases. "The entire apartment is equipped to be move-in ready, but I know that there has to be something you might need." He had furnished it in case he ever needed to use it as a safe spot to lay low, but he didn't actually live here.

“Sounds perfect,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, “And when’s the first payment due?”

He hums, smirking as he leans in to press his lips to yours. "Security deposit has already been paid." He teases before he turns serious. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything." He murmurs quietly. "If you ever wanted to leave, or...whatever, I don't hold you here."

“I know, baby,” you say before kissing him again, “Do you think you could get here a little earlier Saturday? So I can cook for you?”

He frowns slightly and then nods. "I am supposed to go out of town this weekend." He tells you. "I'll send my....team to go on without me and still tell Carol that I have to leave on Friday." Smirking slightly he shrugs. "Maybe I could help you move and spend the weekend here?"

“Are you sure?” You say, unable to hide the smile that’s spreading across your face.

"Unless you want me to stay home?"

“Shut up,” you say before pulling him in for a big kiss, “I can’t wait.” 

Dave chuckles and shakes his head. "Then I'll see you on Friday."

You squeeze his hand before walking over to your purse and jacket, “Come on baby,” you can walk me out.

Dave follows you to the door and opens it, ready to leave as well. He had never meant to stay so long, but it had been worth it. "Drive home safe." He murmurs quietly as he closes the door behind the two of you and locks it. "The apartment is safe, the neighborhood is nice and quiet."

You say a soft goodbye, and make your way home. Deciding on takeout pizza and a quiet night before classes and packing tomorrow. The visit hadn’t gone to plan but still couldn’t have gone better. And the best news is it's only a few days until you’re going to be with him for the full weekend.

****

Dave frowns as his phone dings with a text and he pulls it out of his pocket. It's from you which is surprising since you are supposed to be working. 

It's been three months since you have moved into the apartment and every chance he gets, he comes over to see you. Since you had no more worries about your living situation, you were flourishing in your classes and your job was going great. Every weekend, he would come to find you cooking or baking or generally dancing around the apartment, unless he comes in to find you naked and eager to have him fuck you. Either sight made him smile. 

He opens the text and frowns even more as he reads it. From Baby: ‘Not feeling good. Sent home from work. Won't be able to see you this weekend. I'm sorry Dave.’

You sigh after punching out the text, devastated that you won’t get any time with him. Before taking a large sip of your water and snuggling up in your blankets, hoping you’ll feel better after a little sleep.

Dave lets himself into the apartment, his key fob disarming the security system before it starts to beep. He's happy you are using it, knowing that you feel safe here but you could never be too cautious. Closing the door behind him, he strides into the kitchen and sets down the bags that he had stopped to get before coming over.

Snuggled up in bed, sleep has you comfortably wrapped in its arms, you don’t hear him come in. Wearing the t-shirt he left here a few weeks ago and seemingly forgot about, you had let yourself be wrapped up in him the only way you could.

The soup is still hot, coming straight from the little restaurant down the road. Dave grabs it, the package of crackers and a bottle of Gatorade, but puts the rest of the stuff away before quietly coming down the hall to see how you are doing. 

You’re asleep. Your arms around the pillow he uses when he’s here and he can’t help but grin at the sight, especially the snores that come with a head cold.

The bed lightly dipping is what rouses you, and you turn to see Dave sitting at the end of the bed. Clutching what you assume is soup, “Hi baby,” you croak, as he gently rubs your leg.

“How are you feeling?” He asks gently, scooting forward to reach up and touch his hand to the back of your forehead. A little warm, but nothing too concerning.

“Better than I was earlier,” you say, before reaching up and pulling his hand down to your cheek and holding it there. “I stole your t-shirt.”

“I see that.” He hums, smirking slightly. “Comfy?”

“Yes,” you say, “It’s mine now. I’m sorry I’m not well enough to take care of you.”

“Baby, don’t worry about that.” He frowns slightly and shakes his head. “I’m going to take care of you.” He pulls his hand away and opens the soup. “Your favorite.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say, before taking the soup. And sitting upright. “How’s your day?”

“It was okay.” He twists off the cap for the Gatorade to hold until you are ready to drink. “Boring, but then I got a text that my girl wasn’t feeling good, so I came over here.”

Your heart leaps at the way he calls you his girl, and you can’t hide it on your face. “I’d ask you to snuggle, but I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Eat your soup and I’ll snuggle you.” He’s not afraid of being sick. He’s got a pretty solid immune system, and he’s not going to deny you comfort when you’re not feeling good. He pats your leg and stands up, setting the Gatorade down so he can strip down to his boxers.

“Dinner and a show?” You say with a giggle, before having a spoonful of soup.

“Shut up.” He grunts at you, rolling his eyes even though he’s grinning. “Unless you want me in bed wearing my suit?”

“Take it off, baby,” you say with a wink.

He rolls his eyes at you again but he’s steadily removing his clothes and tossing his pants and jacket onto the chair in the corner. “You act like you’re feeling better.”

“Clearly you’ve got the magic touch, baby,” you say before another spoonful of soup. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course, baby.” He frowns slightly as he looks back at you. The lines have been blurred and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do since he still has a wife and daughters at home, but you are important to him.

“No one has ever bought me soup when I've been sick before,” you admit, “Usually I’d just do it myself. This is really nice.”

“You deserve to have soup brought to you,” he hums, peeling off his socks and then striding back over to the bed. “You have some medicine right? I picked up some NyQuil, but I wasn't sure what you had.”

“NyQuil is perfect, I didn’t stop at the pharmacy,” you admit. “Just wanted to get into my new favorite t-shirt and sleep.”

“I’ll go get it.” He bends down and kisses your forehead. “Be right back.”

“Thanks baby.” You finish up the soup and open the gatorade, grateful for something they replenish a little energy.

He grabs the medicine and brings it back to you. Happy to see you drinking something, he opens the bottle and pours you out a dose. “It’s the nighttime stuff so you can get some rest.”

“Sounds good,” you say before taking the medicine. “Snuggle me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course baby.” He rounds the bed and climbs in on the other side, moving towards the middle and opening his arms for you to lay in them. “Unless you want to spoon?”

“You wanna be the little spoon again?” You say with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up, brat.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “You wanna snuggle or not?”

“Yes please, baby.”

He wouldn’t deny you at all, of course. But he smirks when you curl into his chest. His arm wraps around your back and he rubs it gently. “Go to sleep, baby.”

His arms wrap tightly around you, and it doesn’t take long until you’re drifting off. The medication clouding your senses and you murmur into your soft pillow not fully aware of what’s being said, “Love you.”

Dave stays still as a board as you completely fall asleep. Feeling your body relax and your breathing softens. “I love you too, baby.” He breathes out eventually. He does love you. He didn’t mean to fall in love with you. You had been a surprise, a wrench in the well laid plans that he had to manage his needs. But he won’t deny it, not when he knows it’s real.

[sgiandubh]

honestly don't think it's stupidity, but rather the desire to stir the pot.

Dear Stir The Pot Anon,

How about both: stupid and dying to stir the pot?

I feel, however, I would have to explain myself, just to make sure my point will be properly understood. You see, lack of information/knowledge or social clumsiness has never been my own definition of stupidity. To me, intelligence will always and above anything else be equated with being flexible enough as to take into account the opposite POV, while assuming full responsibility for your own opinions, in all good faith. Thus, stupidity would be the contrary of what I just defined.

The person mentioned in that context never seems to consider the opposite POV, which she readily dismisses as 'confirmation bias' : this, to me, is a sure sign of arrogant intellectual laziness and oh, how conveniently so, when things do not suit your own agenda! She also never seems to take full responsibility for her own opinions. Instead, she would always state she was misquoted, took out of context or simply misunderstood - that is insulting her readers and making me chuckle, every single time. I mean, d'oh, how many times could that statistically happen in an organic, honest fashion? You either fuck with your audience's good faith or you really do have a miscommunication problem, right? You simply cannot drop nuclear bombs in a row and then hide behind a hypocritical 'oops, didn't mean it that way' every single time people call you out or question your motivation. It's obvious they know what they are doing/writing and they do it while insinuating all sorts of things, primarily for attention and weighing in the debate, at all costs. If that is not 'stirring the pot', I don't know what is, Anon.

Being FIRST and ALWAYS RIGHT seems to be the mandatory complement to constantly stirring the pot. That probably explains why she was also repeatedly used in the past to push a certain agenda, until her own unchecked Taliban zeal cooled down that strategy, at least for a (good) while. Add to this that propension to constantly bring attention to herself and create drama every single time her integrity is being questioned (enroll other bloggers, invent Anons, you name it) - insecure, anyone?

In a nutshell, stupid is as stupid does: equating the entire shipper community with just one of the trusted or believed theories, thus conveniently forgetting 'our' side of the fence is far more tolerant and open-minded than 'theirs'. Labelling bloggers you do perceive as a potential threat as 'nutcases', just because you probably resent their traffic figures and perceived 'success' (WTF?). Never taking responsibility for your own shortcomings and simply say 'hey, I was wrong, things like this happen and this is not a beauty pageant', which seriously is the least thing one could do if wanting to show they really respect their audience.

Enough said, Anon. I have mercifully just scratched the surface. You have asked for my sentiment and I honestly gave it to you, while also trying to be cool and collected about someone who sent more than a fair share of spite, lies and insults right down my alley. It is what it is. Some things will probably never change. The intelligent way is to go ahead, keep a cool head about it all and never waiver. Thanks for asking.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Ford just wants Stan to be safe and to be OK and that's harder to be with the cat thing, but Ford can do it better now also. He can protect and provide for Stan, and Stan doesn't have to put himself in danger! Ford can protect them himself! Stan doesn't see it this way of course, just sees Ford being better than him, and him being useless. Now he can't even do the one thing he was good for, which was protect Ford, so why even be here! What's the point of him!

The sad thing. Both of their fears are the same at their root. They were never accepted and respected for who and what they were before. They always had to prove themselves to others, except to each other.

Stanford's acceptance rested on being perfect and not being a bother. And he only was better behaved because it had been beaten into his head that his disability is a burden. He didn't want to draw more attention to himself. If he ever did less than perfect, people would make his otherness eclipse anything else, even in highschool where he was actually popular. Failure was not an option, because they didn't respect his differences.

But that left so many things he never got practice in because why should a smart guy like him do it? Why should somebody who was always ostracized practice socializing and other things if he was rejected anyway? He was never good at it anyway. And how should he be able to help Stan, when he always needed his protection?

What is if he's not smart? Isn't he entirely useless and unwanted?

People didn't accept Stanley, because of his relation to Ford and protecting him, and his worse marks than his brother made him an easy target for bullying, too. Then because he likely became suspicious of everybody. They didn't respect that he didn't do things like it was expected of him, so they always expected failure.

They put him down, ignoring what he could do. They made him believe he's stupid, so he latched onto the thing he could continiously do, help make feel Ford better, protect him. He didn't apply himself and rather cheated because what was the point? He was never good at school anyway.

What if he's not strong? Isn't he entirely useless and unwanted?

Which adds to the miscommunication. They knew each other's strengths, while being beat down about their perceived flaws, and thought their brother was better. When they both are suffering from the same thing.

All of this really. I also think they probably never learned how to talk to each other properly about their insecurities from a combination of their upbringing and being twins. I don't imagine anyone in their life encouraged communication, just to toughen up and get over whatever problems they had. Then being twins, growing side by side and always together, they understood what each other wanted and felt.

Until they didn't. As they grew older they started wanting and feeling different things, but because they were so used to just knowing each other, they didn't realize the brother in their mind didn't match the real deal. Stan didn't realize Ford became more realistic, while Ford didn't see Stan's insecurities and feelings of worthlessness. In their mind they understood each other perfectly, until the science fair happened and they realized things had changed.

Now as adults, after they reconnect, they're trying to figure each other out again. They both want a similar dynamic they had as children, while adding their more adult outlooks and experiences. Except that won't work, because they're different people then they were as kids. Now they actually have to talk to each other.

Fords more confident, and he wants to pay back for all the years Stan spent protecting him. Let him take the lead and make sure neither of then get hurt. Then Stan can finally focus on his more creative pursuits.

Stan's less confident, he only sees his worth as the shield between Ford and the world. If he can't protect Ford, then what's he even around for? He doesn't see his own strengths as anything worth doing.

It'd take a while for them to really figure out each other and explain their feelings, and they probably have more fights in the meantime.

[certifiedsexed]

Something about how you go "afab and female genitalia tell me nothing" feels oddly pretentious to me?? Is this intentional?? I know that both of these terms can also refer to non-vulva/vagina intersex genitals but still, I think you could word it in a more helpful way. Not to be rude or anything!! Sorry if it came off that way. I don't mean any offense to anyone with this ask (I'm on anon because I'm a pussy-ass bitch who fears I'll get blocked if I breathe wrong when sending an ask)

Anon continued: "Realised I should probably elaborate on what I meant by "helpful" - maybe just going "I presume you're referring to a vulva" instead of two paragraphs. I don't know it just makes me feel stupid. (I didn't send the original ask but I still felt stupid by assuming female genitals meant the typical female genitals. <--that wording is awful sorry.

Again I mean no harm I just have autism and can't word things in nice ways sometimes) (I'm so sorry I'm a fucking mess aaaaaahhh feel free to ignore both of my stupid asks)"

Well, I can tell you first off that I'm not trying to sound or be pretentious. I explain that "AFAB" and "female genitalia" tell me nothing because I want to be communicating as clearly as possible and I don't want to just assume something and not tell someone that's what I'm doing or why.

If I said "I presume you're referring to a vulva" without explaining how I came to that conclusion or why I need to assume in the first place, it just sounds like I'm saying "female genitalia" and "AFAB" are what led me to that conclusion in the first place.

Which they didn't.

I was going to write the post with less specific language first since Anon never specified [especially since female genitalia includes penises and a few questions would've needed slightly more in-depth answers for that] until I reread and processed the question about labias and tampons.

I'm not trying to make people feel stupid and I'm sorry it came off that way.

I try to explain as much as possible when answering asks and I guess sometimes that comes off as if I'm showing off or something but that's genuinely not what I'm trying to do.

My intent was also not trying to shame people if they made assumptions based on "female genitalia" and "AFAB".

I just don't want to make assumptions and fuck up my answers, so I try not to do that. But if I do make an assumption, I also want people to know where and why so that it doesn't become a mess of miscommunication.

I'm sorry that makes you feel bad and I really wish I could help but the alternative you suggested doesn't really work from a clear communication standpoint and I'm not sure what else I could say?

I understand you don't mean this badly, btw!

I appreciate it, I just don't think there's anything I can do. If it helps, I've been told I come off as a weird ass fucker my entire life, so you're not alone there. \o/

[folcanta]

hmm

kind of funny to hear this from a complete and total stranger when this is the post directly preceding it... i think in general i'm owning my subjective, gratuitously self-serving vision pretty well!

edit 2 as i think about this more, i feel like an idiot dignifying this stranger's remark. i don't set out to be purposefully mean to people and i'm sorry i made you feel bad (although i don't think that's the issue here) but i have no responsibility to you personally. you acknowledge that you are a stranger to me. just because we like the same anime doesn't give you the right to speak to me this way nor am i beholden to rules i didn't sign up for. i shouldn't even have to say this!

that post was Never tagged escaflowne! i was Not inviting the fandom to it! to my knowledge i've had 2 disagreements within the fandom, both on discord. one was a miscommunication and the other a difference of opinion that i don't think was handled well by the group. i have zero interest in delving back into it. on tumblr i once reblogged a post whose points i disagreed with, adding a couple alternatives. i was told that this was a fine and normal thing to do.

"the word of truth." i don't think so. to react this way to a sincere expression of both gratitude and, to a lesser extent, hurt, is crazy. do you think i expect people to congratulate me for... posts? or that i'm not ELATED when someone understands where i'm coming from? or that i don't get hurt by ignorance and intentionally inflammatory remarks? the standards you hold me to are only that: yours. so please do not feel spurred to comment just because i mention Escaflowne. permission to ignore me and rest assured that i won't randomly show up in your mentions. or would that be preferable?

if there's some rule from long ago that i should know about: i don't. not everyone knows everyone and not everything is an invitation.

edit a friend pointed out that this fandom doesn't get the constant churn of new people unlike bigger ones. there's not the constant flux of newer/younger people coming in with newer/younger ideas and changing the state of the scene that way.

fwiw, this is where i come to write in long-form. i'm almost always referring to things that happen off-site and in my posts i'll usually specify if it's articles/reddit/bluesky/etc., many of which you've all liked/reblogged/replied to. what exactly is verboten about folding an opinion into a larger dissection? if it's one you yourself hold, i'm sorry if it feels like a personal attack. it isn't. unless i'm directly reblogging/responding to you, it's almost guaranteed that i didn't hear it from you first. check my last analytical post to see how i do it.

i'm not here to hurt anyone's feelings on purpose. i don't whine about being misunderstood, i talk about Escaflowne being misunderstood— by the larger public. there's a lot in there to talk about! many ways to look at it! and to that end: the writing i do on Escaflowne has nothing to do with thinking i'm The Most Smartest And Correctest. i'm not interested in that kind of competition. i don't think about you that way. i just like what i like and want to talk about it. if i'm hurt by something i will voice it, and i don't think that makes me exceptional. it sure seems like everyone else acts the same way.

i appreciate the people who have been kind and willing to talk to me and treat me like a human being. thank you. this fandom can be inscrutable as i seem to communicate very differently, so i appreciate your consideration and patience.

[worriedvision]

Hey can I req a Seth x reader hc

he so underrated help (T^T)

Honestly I'm gutted by the lack of Seth fics so more than happy to provide lmao! Gender neutral reader, miscommunication that gets resolved. Based on one of his trust quests.

--

"Hey _, want to catch up over ramen?" Seth would call you, hopeful that you could catch up.

"Oh, sorry! I'm busy." You reply, and you can swear you hear Seth's ears droop.

"Oh...well, how about-" Seth begins to look at his calendar for availability.

"Sorry, I have a lot going on." You cut him off, hanging up before he can confront you.

Truth be told, you had caught feelings for him. At first you felt really happy about it, until you hear whispers from a group of girls about Seth and his famous family. Honestly, you didn't know much about Seth's family and you never felt the need to pry into his life that quickly.

You hear one of the girls plans to get with him, thinking his family name trumped the fact she actually didn't like him that much, and you think it's stupid until you think harder about it.

You heard all the time about couples who got together for monetary reasons. It wouldn't be the most surprising thing to happen, but this was Seth you were thinking of. Surely he wouldn't fall for such an obvious honey trap.

But then you think... What is his family like? Are you too cheap to be in his life? Maybe you couldn't have him as anything other than a friend, or maybe you need to learn more etiquette on how to be "rich presenting" as some people would state.

So, you try what you can. Learning posh dialect, learning family dynamics in famous families, ensuring your digital footprint wouldn't be diminished.

Nothing felt right for you, though. All of these cringeworthy changes did not strike you as something Seth would be wanting in anyone associating with him.

But maybe you just don't know Seth as much as you thought. Perhaps you did live in a delusional world.

With a heavy heart, you look at the selfies you took with Seth. You go to delete them, but you can't bring yourself to do it. You can't bring yourself to delete happy memories, they were nice to look back on.

Going to your contacts, you block Seth before you can back yourself out.

--

The next week, you're getting ramen at the shop you used to catch Seth at - in hindsight, a rookie error. You're about to order before you hear a girl gasp about Seth, and you run off to avoid being seen by him.

Seth chases after you, hoping to iron out any issues or problems he has caused. You hold your breath as you turn a few corners, into a somewhat hidden alley. Closing your eyes, you hope Seth runs past you.

"_, can we talk?" Seth asks, not out of breath in the slightest.

Opening your eyes, you look at a concerned Seth.

"I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm sorry." Seth begins. "But you haven't spoken to me about any problems we've had. You just block me and think I'm going to just move on."

"I'm not fit to be in your life." You explain. "With your family, you being around me will look bad."

Seth looks at you blankly, waiting for something else. Surely you weren't just avoiding him because of some stupid idea that he couldn't associate himself with 'lowly commoners'!

"And what about how I feel about that?" Seth spots out, unable to hold his frustration. "I really missed you. I wanted to talk to you. You kept avoiding me, giving me no explanation."

You don't respond, feeling incredibly guilty at the fact he was starting to tear up.

"Being apart from you has made me realise I have feelings more intense than friendship, and I hate that you trust other people more than myself." He cries out, wiping away his tears.

You instinctively pull him in, beginning to cry.

"I'm sorry, I felt guilty about the idea of dragging you down. I just come from a normal family." You explain. "I felt selfish for wanting you to myself, and I couldn't make myself good enough for your family."

"You're good enough for me, that's what matters to me." Seth sniffles, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You both stay silent, just indulging in each others warmth as if you were catching up on any missed hugs.

"No more of these spirals, got it?" Seth pulls away, holding you as you nod, pulling out your phone and unblocking him.

Your stomach growls, reminding you of your reason for going to that ramen bar. Seth laughs with his chest, holding you by his side as he goes to take you on your first date.