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yeonzzzn · 18 hours

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✨all my little stars: park jongseong

epilogue for no limits duology | the limits series

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 3.2k

synopsis: jay’s world spins faster after finding out of your pregnancy and making the preparations for the life you both created with a mixture of the normal chaos and the unexpected.

genre: established relationship, blonde!jay, uncle!jay, fluffy, suggestive.

warnings: swearing, the boys being down bad (as usual), mentions of sex, pregnancy mentions, that’s probably it ♡

★ this is an epilogue of the spin-off to the main series, please read off limits / parts 1-2 to this spin-off before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ★

•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•

“C-can you repeat that?” Jay’s throat went dry and his hands were shaking and his knees weak.

The doctor smiles at him, “I said, congrats Dad, you’re having twins.”

Twins? Jay couldn’t believe it. If it weren’t for the handrails he held a grip on the bed you laid in, he would have completely fallen to the floor at the news.

The surprising thing is, you weren’t even shocked. You saw it coming with how big your baby bump was. Mostly with Jay’s sister also being pregnant, her bump was of normal size. At first, you thought maybe your baby was growing a lot bigger than you’d thought, but as the days went on…it became obvious you were carrying more than one life.

Jay on the other hand looked like he was fixing to have a heart attack. You were genuinely worried for your fiancé until he looked over at you and his lips curled into a smile.

“Twins,” he chuckles and smiles wider, “Baby, we’re having twins,” Jay took your hands in his, placing kisses on their tops then placing a kiss on your forehead, resting his head against yours and rubbing the pads of his thumbs in your palms, “I couldn’t be happier.”

But oh man did the boys not let Jay live this down.

Jay’s sister took you and her out for some much-needed girl time for dinner and shopping, while Jay stayed behind at the apartment.

“BROTHER NO FUCKING WAY!! TWINS?!?” Heeseung laughed, slapping the back of his friend, “We get rid of Jake and __ just for them to be replaced.”

Jay dropped his head into his palms, “I’m so happy over it that I'm exhausted. But it was also such a shock.”

Heeseung was now running his hand up and down his back, “All jokes aside, I am happy for you man, this is great news.”

Jake nodded, standing from the solo recliner and ruffling Jay’s hair, “Just think our little Hwa will have not just two, but THREE family members to grow up with.”

Jay chuckled and sat back on the couch, his smile going from ear to ear. He was genuinely so happy. Twins?? He still couldn’t believe it. And the timing of his sister and you being pregnant at the same time was even more perfect. His children will get to grow up with hers, and neither of the four would be alone.

Jay let out a yawn, “Jesus. Jake, is this how you felt about the first check-up you and my sister went to for Hwa?”

Jake let out a soft groan and also leaned back, “Yes. I was shaking so badly and my ears were ringing. But it’s such a happy feeling at the same time.”

Jay nodded, taking a good long look at his best friend/brother-in-law, his eyes widening as he stood quickly to his feet, causing every male to stare up at up.

“You good?” Sunghoon asked, “Did having twins get to ya or something?”

Jay shakes his head, “No. I just realized I need to move YN in, like now.”

It was the one thing both you and Jay kept putting off. Specifically because of your parents, or well, father. If your father didn’t like Jay when they first met, he sure as hell didn’t like him now. From what you have told Jay, he already isn’t happy about the engagement or the pregnancy or moving out. But it is what it is. Jay didn’t care, he had you and that’s all that mattered to him.

Sunghoon whistles, “Guess this place will be crowded until Jake and __ officially move out.”

Jake smirked, “And guess who all is going to help move YN in and us out because the two females are pregnant?”

Jay also smirked and glanced down at Heeseung and Sunghoon.

The two males looked at each other, communicating silently.

“Nah,” Jake said, his Aussie accent coming out thick, “You two aren’t getting out of this!”

And they didn’t. You and __ sat on the couch with smiles on both your faces as you watched your men do all the work. Even Hwa was clapping and cheering the men on. It was adorable.

Before you knew it, you broke the lease for your apartment, had everything cleaned out, and officially moved in with Jay. It was meant to be this way, and long overdue.

The first night with Jake, __, and Hwa gone was too quiet. Jay rolled over onto his back and exhaled out.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” you asked, not moving from the position you were lying in but shifting just enough to look at his face.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, tilting his face towards you. You shake your head, waiting for his response to your question, “It’s just…quiet.”

You smile at him, reaching your hand over and running your fingers through his blonde hair, “You’ll just have to get used to it, it’ll be okay.”

Jay closed his eyes as you continued to run your fingers in his hair, and sighed at the loss of your touch and seeing you roll back over. Jay moved to his side and pressed his chest to your back, hand slipping under your night shirt and rubbing at your pregnant tummy, his lips making home against your neck.

“We can always make some noise of our own,” he whispers against your neck, now sliding his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, “You’re so sexy pregnant.”

You chuckle at the feeling of his cock twitching against your back, leaning into him and tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, “Do you want to make some noise?”

He laughs against your skin, slowly pulling down your shorts and panties, “Always.”

—

Time seemed to have flown by too quickly. Every day it's getting harder and harder to do normal daily activities and the males of the apartment forcing you to basically be a couch potato. When Jay wasn’t home to help take care of you, Heeseung or Sunghoon was always around to help out in any way they could. You always felt terrible, but they didn’t mind. They did this for __ when she was pregnant with Hwa.

But at the same time, you couldn’t complain. It gave you time to plan your and Jay’s wedding. The best thing is that you didn’t have to worry about catering for food or flowers since you and Jay both own a restaurant and flower shop. Saves a lot of money.

Months passed and __ finally was rushed to the hospital to birth to her and Jake’s second child. And to Jake’s lucky stars, they had a baby boy: Ha-Yoon Sim.

Jay slapped the back of his best friend’s back, “You got so lucky having a boy.”

Jake gripped the bed rails of his wife's bed, sweat rolling down his face as he stared at her with their baby boy, “You’re telling me.”

You stood on the other side of her bed, running your finger on his cheek, a small yawn escaping his lips, “Gosh, he’s a spitting image of Jake,” you giggled to her.

She lifts Ha-Yoon up, rubbing her cheek against his forehead, “Both of my kids look way too much like their father.”

Jake tilts his head, “You say that like it’s a bad thing?”

Jay takes a good look at his nephew and laughs, “Still has the Park nose too.”

Sunghoon shakes his head with a wide smile, “I don’t think either of you will ever get away from the Park's nose.”

“Ma,” Hwa softly said, clinging her hands to Heeseung’s shirt as he held her in his arms. Her eyes carefully watched her mother and baby brother.

“Wanna see your new brother?” Heeseung asked, brushing his nose against her cheek and making her giggle.

“Hee,” she giggles more, now brushing her nose against his cheek.

“Bring her over,” Jake reached his arms out for his daughter, Heeseung transferring her over. Jake leans Hwa over the rail, her eyes staring down at her brother, “This is Ha-Yoon,” Jake kisses her cheek, “This is your little brother.” Hwa’s lips tried to speak the word brother, she looked over at Jake with a confused look, “Brother,” He said again with a smile.

“Frother,” she tried, and Jake just nodded and smiled more.

Jay was now at your side, shifting you over a bit to lean over and hug his sister, “Our little family keeps on growing. I’m proud of you, stinks.”

With a free arm, she hugged him back, tears swelling her eyes, “I know. I love you so much, big brother.”

Jay kissed his sister's forehead and ruffled her hair, “I’m going to teach Ha-Yoon how to play the guitar and to cook, be prepared for that.”

She rolled her eyes but kept her smile, “Of course you will.”

Watching your family smile and laugh had you placing your hands on your tummy, being excited to meet your twins and grow this family even more.

Jake glanced up at you, seeing how you trace and look at your pregnant belly and he couldn’t help but smile even more, “You’ll be due in two months, ya?”

You look up at him and nod, “That or sooner.” Jay was now wrapping his arm around your waist and placing a hand in the middle of your belly and kissing your temple.

Jake shifted his eyes to Jay and then back to you, “I can’t wait to meet my nieces.”

Jay whipped his head to his best friend, tilting it to the side and glaring at him, “You want me to fold, don’t you?”

His sister scoffs, “You’re so girl dad, big brother.”

Jay looked between his sister and Jake, “You both are manifesting girls aren’t you?!”

Heeseung pulled up a chair and leaned his elbows onto the bed, “Jay, just accept you’re having twin girls.”

Sunghoon added, “Both Jake and yourself have shitty luck, you’re going to have girls.”

“There’s still time!” Jay said with a sigh, leaning his head against yours. Jay wouldn’t mind girls, he’ll love his children regardless of gender. He just knew it would be over for him. If he thought it was bad when Hwa was born…it would be worse when you give birth.

And finally, that fateful day arrived.

Jay held your hand, squeezing it tightly as you pushed. Sweat rolled down the sides of your face, holding your breath with each push.

“That’s it, keep pushing, YN,” Jay said, wiping the sweat off your face, “Keep taking deep breaths, my love. You’re so strong.”

You flung your head back onto the pillow, gritting your teeth and using every ounce of strength you had to push out the bundles of life.

“Good, good,” the doctor said, “Baby number one is almost there.”

Jay rested his head on yours, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on your hand as you squeezed back tighter. You didn’t take another breath until crying filled the hospital room.

“One baby out, keep up the pace, YN,” the doctor said, her smile wide as she looked up to you and Jay, “One baby to go.”

Jay pressed a kiss to your brow, “Almost there my rose petal, keep fighting.”

You took a few deep breaths and nodded, pushing with all your might, a pained groan leaving your lips as your second baby finally made its way into the outside world.

“Congratulations parents, you did it!” the doctor said, taking your second child to be bathed and cleaned up.

Jay chuckled, his smile big, forehead still resting against yours, “It was all her, I’m just here for support.”

“Your support still did something,” one of the nurses said, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Want to come meet your daughters?”

Daughters. Everyone was right. He was done for.

Jay swallowed and nervously nodded, “Yes, please.”

The nurse smiled and led him over to the table where his daughters lay side by side, their sobs stopping the minute Jay reached the table, their brown eyes staring back at him.

His whole body shook, hands trembling and knees weak. He gripped the table, trying to steady himself from falling over. His girls…these are his girls. Two lives he helped create. Two lives that are now his entire world and more. His knees buckled, the nurse taking to his left and helping him regain his balance.

“Everything okay?” you asked out of breath, concern filling you as you watched your boyfriend nearly fall over.

Jay nodded, tears swelling his eyes as he gently traced his fingers down his twin's faces, “They are so perfect.”

“Want to hold them?” the nurse asked, “I can help.”

Jay nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girls.

He picked one up, reaching his other arm out to take the second from the nurse, holding them closely to his chest and walking over to you, “Baby,” he sniffled but held his smile, “They are so beautiful.”

You sat up the best you could, reaching your hands out, “Gimme, please.”

Jay placed one of your daughters in your arms, “This is Aera,” he smiled, then held up your second daughter to his face, kissing her forehead, “And this is Hana,” then placed her in your other arm.

“Aera and Hana Park,” you smile, tears swelling your eyes and slowly falling, “They are perfect.” The minute Jay held his daughters' gaze he knew their names for them were perfect.

He watched as you cuddled Aera and Hana to your chest, placing kisses on their small faces.

And that was all it took for him to crumble. Tears streamed down his face as his imaginable barrier of protection was placed over the three of you. Jay leaned over the bed, wrapping the three of you in his arms, and cried into your hair, “My girls,” he took a shaky breath, and placed a kiss on your temple, “My sweet girls, I love you all so fucking much,” He leaned back but kept his arms tight around you three and connected his lips to yours, breathing you in to stabilize him, “My rose petal and little stars.”

There was a knock on the hospital room door, and a nurse opening it, “Are you the family?” she asked. Jay perked up, thinking his parents, sister, niece and nephew, and best friends arrived, only for his smile to fade at hearing a voice he didn’t want to.

“Yes,” the man said, “I am the father of the one who gave birth.”

The one who gave birth huh? Can’t even call her your daughter.

The nurse let your father and mother in the room, Jay quickly stood upright and walked to the edge of the bed, his protective nature coming out.

Your father stopped a good distance away from Jay, your mother standing right behind him.

Jay gritted his teeth, “If you’re here to play some kind of sick fucking game, get the fuck out!”

You didn’t even stop him for his outburst. It was well deserved. Mostly after the fit your father threw once you broke the lease to your old apartment and the way he got upset over finding out you was pregnant. You held your daughters closer.

Your father sighed and looked to the floor, “I didn’t come to start any fights.”

Jay clenched his fists, “Then why are you here?”

He glanced up at Jay and took a few steps forward, placing his hands on his shoulders. It took everything in Jay to not push him off.

“I want to be in my grandchildren’s lives, after thinking long and hard, I knew if I continued down this path I would have not only lost my daughter, but my grandchildren.”

Jay looked back at you, your eyes wide as you stared at your father, waiting for you to respond. But you never did.

He looked at your father, “I think she needs time,” and your father nodded.

“Anything she needs, I will do,” he squeezed Jay’s shoulders and then gave them a slight tap, “Welcome to the family, son.”

Your parents walked to the door, giving you one last look then walked out.

You didn’t realize how long you held your breath until Jay was back at your side and pushing your hair from your face, “YN, breathe.”

You looked up at him, “Why did it take birthing my children for him to decide to change?”

Jay continued running his hands through your hair, “Sometimes it takes something great coming into the world to change everything,” he looked down at his daughters, “The minute I looked at our girls, everything changed for me. My life has a greater purpose. I’m sure he felt the same.”

You just nodded looking down at your girls. You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive your father, but the fact he showed up was a start.

Another knock happened on the door, the nurse giving you and Jay a concerned look as she went to the door, barely sliding it open and peeking out, “Are you family?”

“Hell yeah, we are! I’m ready to meet my nieces!”

Jay exhausted out a sigh at the word choice his sister decided to make.

The nurse stepped to the side, his sister rushing in with Jake carrying Hwa in one arm, and Ha-Yoon in his car seat carrier in Jake’s other hand. Heeseung and Sunghoon trail in after along with Jay’s parents.

“No one even told you guys I had girls,” Jay teased, reaching out to hug his sister.

“No one had to,” she teased back, squeezing him tightly, “We already knew.”

She practically shoved Jay out of the way to run to your bedside, “YNNIE!!” she cheered, leaning at your side to get a look at your girls, “Oh my god they look exactly like my brother!! They have the Park noses too!!”

Hwa stretched her arms out, “Jay!” her sweet voice coos, Jay taking his niece in his arms and then reaching out to hug Jake.

“Can’t get away from the Park nose,” Jake said with a smile, hugging Jay tightly, “Congratulations, brother.”

“Thanks, man, it means so much.”

Heeseung and Sunghoon were next to hug Jay, then his parents, each of them smiling wide and giving their congratulations.

“Babies!” Hwa said, pointing at you and her cousins.

“That’s right!” Jay said with excitement, “You want to meet your cousins?”

She smiled and nodded, “Cousins!”

You smiled at little Hwa when Jay sat her on the bed at your side, holding her shoulders, “Hi Hwa,” you said softly, “This is Aera and Hana.”

Hwa smiles and lifts to her knees, little hands placed against yours that hold the girls, “Family!”

“That’s right, sweet girl,” her mother sniffled, “We are a big family.”

Everyone crowded around your bedside, each taking turns holding both of your girls.

You looked between each of them, tears falling down your face. Family. This is your family.

Jay pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Nothing can get better than this.”

You nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. Nothing could beat this.

‧₊˚✧THE END✧��₊‧

— perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle

@jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia

@wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove

@fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun

@cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs

@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee

@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee

#jay bae #jay park #park jay #park jongseong #jongseong park #jay x reader #reader x jay #reader x park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #yeonzzzn writing #no limits duology

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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 days

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Fifteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, Gunplay, mention of past rape, homophobic comments GEN. SMUT [All possible tags, not all apply]

Info: Ghost = kinky, your petty plans are interrupted, frat guys are the worst, if any male says 'tomcattin'' run, very, very fast; as a southern gal trust me on this one, sudden remembrance that Ghost is a criminal [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date & Time

September 3rd, 11:45

“Wine coolers in the hot tub, yes ma’am.” Luke sighed, leaning back against the rounded wall right in front of one of the jets, letting it pelt his back.

“You can’t stay in for long Luke it’ll irritate your sunburn.” Your sister spoke up, snatching the vape from your hands and hitting it.

“I know that, mother.” He grumbled, enjoying it while he could despite the nagging. He looked over to you and rolled his eyes when he saw you texting what he assumed was Anakin.

“Seriously?” Luke whined, reaching out for your phone but you held it up and away from him with a scowl.

“Leave me be.” You huffed, “I’m plotting.”

“Plotting?”

“Yes. Your demise.” You grinned and smiled wider when your sister snorted and covered her mouth, the drunken giggles making it more funny than it was.

“Shut up. You’re sexting Anakin aren’t you?” Luke smirked, putting his arms up to rest on the lip of the hot tub.

“So what if I am?” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You made me take a picture of you after you’d practiced flexing your non-existent abs.”

“Okay and?” Luke snapped, waving you off.

“And? You’re a whore just like me.” You smirked, laughing at Luke’s face. His mouth dropped open and he raised his eyebrows in feigned shock.

“That’s a low blow.” He shook his head.

“Mhm.” You nodded, finishing up your text and sending it off. “Like the one you gave Han under the dinner table?”

“Luke!” Lauren gasped, leaning forward and nearly tipping her drink into the bubbling water. “You did not!”

“Hey! Hey, shut it-“ He smacked at your shoulder with beet red cheeks.

“Well it was a low blow wasn’t it?” You giggled, your face almost sore from laughing at his spluttering voice as he tried to talk his way out of it.

“I told you that in confidence!” Luke muttered, embarrassedly shifting away from you to sulk.

“Shhh,” you reached over to pat his shoulder. “It’s nothing compared to what I’ve done.”

“Do tell.” Your sister prodded, shimmying her shoulders and giving you a cheeky expression.

“Absolutely not.” You broke out into a laugh, surprised at yourself for letting the alcohol loose your lips. “Shouldn’t have even said that.”

“I knew it.” Lauren said, scrunching up her nose and pointing at you. “I knew Ani was a freak. You owe me money Lukey.”

“What?” Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “You bet on my sex life?”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of your belly, rumbling and clawing at the sensitive little insecurities that resided there. You looked around you, scanning the tree line but not seeing the man you were looking for. Grabbing your phone you switched it off, your intuition telling you this wasn’t a conversation Ghost needed to hear.

“My husband SWEARS he saw Anakin walking into a sex shop a while back.” Your sister said, a prideful smile on her face. “Luke was with me when he mentioned it and Luke said ‘No way. He’s too calm.’ and I said that those are the ones you gotta watch out for.”

“So, Lukey owes me $5.00.” She clapped her hands once and rubbed her palms together.

“Did… are you sure?” You asked, your voice a bit louder than you meant it to be, so you dialed it back a bit. “Like he was for sure it was Anakin?”

“I mean… I wasn’t there. But he saw someone who dresses like him. Black hair, tall. Long sleeves though so didn’t see his tattoos.” You sister explained. “He only saw the back of him. But he was pretty sure it was him.”

“W-why didn’t you say something to me?” You asked, getting irritated at her nonchalance.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you!” She scoffed, “what’s your problem?”

“I- I don’t know… I’m sorry.” You shook your head and crossed your arms, taking another big swig of your drink. “How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know, a week or two? Something like that.” She shrugged, making eye contact with Luke nervously. “Why?”

“Nothing.” You said again, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Nevermind.”

“I- I’m sorry. Did I make you upset?” Your sister asked, grimacing.

“No.” You shook your head, looking out over the lake at the warm orangey red reflected by the setting sun. “No… I just- I’m thinking too much into this.” You took another big swig of your drink and coughed from the bitterness.

“Oh no…” Luke said quietly, looking over at your sister and back to you as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Hey, no. Don’t… there’s no reason to worry, Anakin isn’t like that. He loves you too much. He’s not that kind of guy.”

“I know that!” You huffed, leaning your head back in a deep groan. “But… you always said he was too good to be true! What- I mean he is a bartender.”

“Quit. You’re working yourself up over nothing sissy.” Lauren said, scooting closer to put an arm around you. “Maybe he just hasn’t found the right time to introduce… whatever it was he got. Or maybe it wasn’t even him! It’s okay.”

“Logically I know you’re right. But… but there’s something, I mean I’ve always felt like I wasn’t the best person for him,” you admitted sadly, thinking about your secret trysts with Ghost. “maybe he’s just finally figuring that out for himself.”

Could you have really been so caught up in your hidden life that you’d missed the signs of Anakin becoming more distant? He still always texted when he got home. He still always answered when you called. He still told you in detail about his shifts at work. You’d seen him turn a girl down twice.

It doesn’t make sense. Of course it doesn’t make sense, because Anakin would never do something like that. He would never act like you.

Pushing your guilt and shame onto him like this only heightened the insecurities, what if he is cheating because he suspects that you are?

“Aright, I think that’s enough.” Luke said, gently taking the beverage from your hand and sitting it aside. “Let’s go get some food in your belly, yeah?”

You nodded, standing up and letting the water drip off you for a moment before stepping out of the hot tub. You grabbed your phone and walked into the cabin without even wrapping your towel around you. Tipsy-stumbling into your room you grabbed shorts and a shirt along with a sweatshirt, going back to the bathroom to rinse off the chlorinated water with a quick shower.

Not bothering to wash your hair, you were in the middle of nowhere after all, you scrubbed up and rinsed off in record time. You hear a bit of noise and a soft thud before the shower curtain was ripped open and your face was grabbed by a leather hand.

Your natural instinct was to scream as your eyes widened in surprise, but hand had gripped you firmly beneath your cheekbones and over your mouth.

“Shhh- shut it. You outta be used to this by now.” Ghost grumbled, removing his hand only to smack you across the face with his other one.

“Where’s your phone?” He demanded, looking through your pile of clothes on the sink counter and finding it. “This isn’t ever supposed to be turned off. Do you understand me?” He said angrily, shutting off the water and pulling you out of the shower.

“Ghost! Be careful! Quiet, they’ll hear you.” You whispered, nervously glancing toward the door and yanking the towel off the rack to wrap around yourself.

“They won’t hear shit.” He said, nodding toward the door. “They’re still outside.”

He fumbled with your phone, switching it back on impatiently. Shaking it in front of your face when the screen lit back up.

“Never again.” He growled and grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you into the bathroom counter. With your phone tossed on the bathroom rug, he deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock.

“Do you understand me?” He asked, smushing your face against the mirror with one hand, his other on your hip to steady himself as he drove his cock into you from behind. A deep groan escaping his lips when he sheathed himself fully into your warmth.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He grunted, thrusting into you at a ruthless pace. Your ragged breath fogging up the mirror and gathering condensation as you tried to form words.

“Understood.” You whimpered, quiet and meek.

“What’d you say to them?” He demanded, pulling your hair roughly to tilt your head back. The motion so quick that it made you dizzy, you fumbled to pull your towel back up as it started to slip but realized it was no use, you may as well just let it fall to the floor.

“N-nothin’. Didn’t say anything.” You shook your head unable to look at him in the mirror, unable to look at yourself for fear of seeing your anxiety reflected back at you.

“You lying bitch.” His hand left your hip, reaching into the back of his jeans to pull out his gun.

He stopped his quick thrusts and changed his grip on your head, his fingers digging into the tender flesh beneath your jaw, squeezing the sides of your throat. The tip of his cock slowly, deliberately, nudging your cervix. It was uncomfortable, feeling him so deeply in such an odd position. The sharp ledge of the bathroom sink pressed into the soft tissue of your lower stomach paired with his deep, brutal strokes had you wincing in pain on the ascent and moaning with pleasure as he slowly dragged himself back down again.

The blood rushing through you crescendoed into a deafening roar as it swirled behind your eardrums, his fingers squeezing so tightly around your neck that your vision went blurry.

“Tell.” Thrust. “Me.” Thrust. “Now.”

The next thing you heard was the sound of the gun’s barrel spinning, his grip on your neck loosened just enough to let you breathe and restore your vision so you could see him clearly when he pressed the gun to your temple. His pointer finger running alongside the barrel.

“Didn’t say anything.” You squeaked, your hands clawing at the faux granite countertop.

*Shk* *click* *click* nothing.

“Six rounds.” He said sternly. “That’s five left and one of ‘em has a bullet with your name on it.”

“Y-you wouldn’t dare.” You whispered, your eyes wide open in fear as you stared at the black eyes and gaping maw in the mirror.

“Guess we’ll see won’t we?” He asked, continuing with his slow pace, rolling his hips against you. “You trusted me with it yesterday, you don’t look like you trust me now. Why’s that?” He asked mockingly.

“Cause… cause you’re mad.” You whimpered.

“Oh, my Doe.” He shook his head, the cold and stone hard emotional wall he had up let out the tiniest bit of the warm comfort he often radiated. “I’m not mad.”

“I’m…” He sighed, tsk’ing before reinforcing that concrete wall to shield you from his feelings. He nudged your temple with the gun again, cocking it back with his thumb.

“Why’d you turn it off? What’d you say that you didn’t want me to hear?” He demanded, pressing it harder into your skull.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whimpered, eyebrows furrowing, trying to shake your head.

“Did you tell them about me?” His thrusts getting faster the angrier you made him.

“No!” You denied it quickly, thinking back to what he’d most likely heard before you switched off your phone.

“Really? Cause it sounded like you were getting ready to tell them all about how you love it when I treat you like a cheap whore.” His words smacking you in the face with the weight of the mechanical timbre behind it.

“N-no no I swear I didn’t.” You said frantically, trying to steady yourself and plant your hands firmly on the sink’s edge. “I promise I didn’t.”

*shk* *click* *click* and… you’re still breathing.

“Four.” He grunted and relaxed his grip on your neck, your face turning a blue shade that he wasn’t a fan of as he realized he was actually choking you. You coughed, your eyes watering as you tasted a metallic tang in your mouth. You’d split open the cut on your lip again.

“I didn’t say anything about you Ghost I promise I didn’t.” you heaved, sucking in deep half-breaths as he continued to plow into you.

“Then what was it?” He started to yell and remember where he was, quieting himself and stopping his movements to listen for any sign that Luke and your sister had heard him.

“It was Anakin.” You wheezed, “I wasn’t talking ‘bout you. I was talking ‘bout Anakin.”

Ghost laughed, a big hearty chuckle, the chin of his mask touching his chest as he lowered his head and the gun momentarily. He cleared his throat and continued on with his line of questioning after he’d collected himself.

“M’kay, what’d you say about him then Doe?” He asked, languidly thrusting into you, the gun pointed at you through the mirror instead of directly at you.

“I was just… projecting I think.” You said, your eyes darting away from his.

“Mmm?”

“Don’t… it’s not a big deal. It’s fine, I’m over it.” You lied as if you’d been able to easily banish the thoughts from your mind.

“It’s not fine. I know you.” He said angrily, tapping the mirror with the tip of his gun. “Look at yourself.”

“Ghost- it’s really…” you scowled suddenly, realizing you weren’t the only one who deserved to be questioned. “How did you get Anakin’s ring?”

“I stole it.” He answered automatically and turned the gun back to you again, moving it slowly and he twisted his wrist to tuck the barrel beneath your chin. “I’m asking questions. Not you.”

*shk* *click* *click *snap*

His leathered middle finger and thumb slipped past each other, his middle finger snapping against the meaty space where his thumb connected to his palm, making you jump and eliciting another chuckle from Ghost.

“Three. You really want to risk more? You’re at half way Doe.” He taunted you as he trailed the cool metal down your neck, stopping to nudge your stiff right nipple before continuing its journey to the heated, swollen bundle of nerves nestled between your puffy folds.

“Shhh, listen.” He said in a low tone, letting you hear the soft *tik* as he hit the safety on the pistol. “Hate to hurt my pussy before I’m through with her.”

The sight along the top ridge of the pistol was just a tiny bump along the smooth metal barrel, but it felt heavenly against your hot to the touch clit as it throbbed and begged for attention. His hips pistoned forward, his thighs smacking yours while he rubbed that dangerously delicious bump in circles over your clit.

A sinful moan left your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head as a wave of goosebumps so intense that it prickled all the way up to your cheeks, passed over you when he lodged himself deep inside and rutted up into you.

“Dirty little girl aren’t you? You like this?” He laughed, tapping the barrel against you to make you flinch before resuming the movement that had your head spinning.

“N-no.” You squeaked, through your clenched teeth that mirrored the firm squeeze your cunt gave his cock as it pulsed around him.

“So you are a liar.” His deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head, biting your lip and sucking on the wound leaking a droplet a blood into your mouth. “Love it.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling like his legs would give out after hearing your admission. “Christ, babydoll.” He moaned, a fresh gush of your wetness coating his length as he struggled to keep hold of his sanity.

Ghost wanted nothing more than to consume you. It was a feeling he hadn’t ever felt before. A burning desire for something more intimate than sex. More intimate than a tender kiss. He was inside you yes, but in that moment even that wasn’t enough. He wanted to devour you, he wanted to flay his ribcage open and shove you inside, even then he wasn’t sure that would be enough.

He thought he loved you before. He thought that deeply rooted need for you was the most powerful love capable of being felt. But he reminded himself in that moment that you were a goddess after all and you’d finally opened up the gate to your own slice of heaven and invited him to push it farther and farther until he could walk in and plant himself there for eternity.

That’s what faith is right? An all consuming desire for more, more, more. To be the best, to be worthy, to be loved. And just trusting blindly that it will eventually be returned? Is this what he was meant to feel when his mother dragged him to church as a kid? Is this feeling what they meant by ‘bask in the glory of god’s love’?

Because this must be what it feels like to love and be loved by a goddess. He was certain of it.

It was an all encompassing feeling that was so intense that he stopped moving completely and squeezed his arms around you as tight as humanly possible, maybe even akin to the strength of something a little less than human and a bit closer to beast. His breath was hot, heavy and ragged. His embrace so tight that it pushed the air from your lungs in a squeaky wheeze, he didn’t stop there. He kept going until his arms were shaking from the strain on his muscles and the pressure of it popped your back in a surprisingly good way.

Only then did he slowly unfurl his arms. He’d unknowingly used you to give himself a temporary compression vest; the kind that calms the nervous system with deep pressure therapy. He felt so much, so quickly that it had completely overrode his ability to function correctly.

For the first time in his life, Anakin Skywalker had fawned.

“Can you be really, really fucking quiet?” He panted, moving you even before you could whimper out a pitiful yes. He guided you onto the floor, too hazy with lust to care about anything but getting as close to you as he possibly could.

“Hold ‘em.” He said, tapping the side of your leg with his slick coated pistol. “Just like that.” Ghost groaned staring down at you as you wordlessly begged for him to dick you down like you so desperately needed him to.

With the crooks of your knees in your hands you pulled your legs to your chest and out to the sides, prying yourself open for him.

“Holy shit.” He breathed out, looking at the creamy mess between your legs. “I thought you were wet when I fucking raped you. You should see yourself right now.”

“Let’s see…” he said, taking his cock in his left hand to stroke slowly while he used the tip of the gun to slide over your puffy folds and nudge your clit again.

The cold metal circled your entrance and it took every ounce of self control you had not to scream out when he pressed the barrel past your pussy lips, plunging it as deep as the trigger.

*shk* *click* *click* “Goddamnit are you-“

He looked down at you in a state of awe as he watched you cum. Your stomach tensed so tightly he could see the individual muscles pulling beneath your soft flesh. He didn’t even care that you were letting out a devastating moan, long, breathy and drawn out. Unmistakable for anything other than pure, absolute, bliss.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, gently removing the barrel before plunging his thick length into its rightful place. He carelessly wiped the pistol on the side of your face just to humiliate you, but you were too out of it to care.

“Gods you’re beautiful.” Ghost spoke in a strained voice, even through the voice modifier it was noticeable. “So beautiful.”

“Takin’ me so well in this little fucked out pussy. Lettin’ me do what I want.” He whined, slipping his hands beneath you to grip your shoulders. His upper body keeping your legs pinned back so far that your knees touched the ground on either side of you. You felt him so deep, so extremely deep inside of you that if you weren’t already on cloud nine he would’ve sent you to an early grave.

“Gods, you sound so pretty... please shut up.” He panted, straining to cover your mouth from the awkward position his arms were in beneath you. “Shh, shut the fuck up. Please.”

“So wet. Squeezin’ me so tight. I’m gonna cum Doe,” Ghost’s hips thrust erratically, sloppily driving into you, pounding you down into the floor. “Want me to cum inside, huh? Be my little cumslut?” He grunted, the forehead of his mask tucked into the crook of your neck.

“Nasty bitch. Gettin’ fucked on the bathroom floor, loaded gun in your pussy and you just cum like the goddamn whore you were meant to be.” His hips driving into you in a way that made you feel him in your guts, but even that wasn’t good enough for Ghost he needed to be closer despite already cradling your folded body beneath him.

“Giving you a proper dickin’ aren’t I?” He chuckled, “too stupid to talk.”

“Mhm.” You breathed out from under his palm, just taking what he was giving without complaint because… what was there to complain about? He was giving you everything you needed and more.

The front door open and shut, the drunken slurring of Luke and your sister floating muffled and distorted beneath the bathroom door. Your nostrils flaring in panic, but Ghost kept going, shaking his head no.

“Almost.” He whined quietly, rutting into you at an unreasonable rate, only slowing when he pumped his load inside you, thick, creamy white mixing with your slick to make the most disgustingly gorgeous sounds possible.

“I… I will be back.” He panted, quickly pulling out and not bothering to even clean himself up as he fixed his clothes.

“Kisses.” He tapped the cheek of his mask with his pistol, waiting for you to give him a peck there before he tucked it away and stood you up on unsteady feet.

“I love you,” he squeezed your upper arms in his big hands, sliding his palms down the back of your arms to fold your fingers over his, holding them in place with his thumbs and bringing them to his ‘mouth’ to kiss. A gesture that sparked a nostalgic feeling in your stomach.

“Better clean up, we have shit to do.” He grunted, dropping your hands he hoisted himself up and swung one long, lanky leg out the window so he could land clumsily on his feet and jog behind the cabin and out of sight where he’d stashed his backpack, which happened to be a bit heavier than usual that night.

Diary Entry: September 4th

I’ve never been more happy. My life just keeps getting better and better and it’s all thanks to you. I can’t even be mad that I didn’t get an answer from you. Jesus Christ.

Never in all my gross little fantasies did I imagine I would be fucking my girlfriend with a pistol. Good fucking lord I’m so goddamn lucky. It’s truly a miracle, this is something of bucket list pipe-dream. Now if only I could get rid of the thoughts that came after. Those aren’t ones I would be willing to share for fear you’d ship me off to a freak farm for an extended stay. Honestly I’m a bit concerned now, after that.

I’m supposed to take you over to commit some level crime (not real crime). How can I survive seeing that after what I’ve just done with you? I’m not supposed to ravage you in the woods, but I might end up doing that. Though at this point I’m almost positive you’d be willing to let me. Maybe I will.

Gods I don’t know anything other than I love you… and I need to be headed back toward your cabin within the next hour.

Maybe I don’t need to be afraid of telling you who I am anymore. That would feel so… relieving. Despite my best efforts it really does eat away at me on the rare occasion. I’m stressed out, I’ve kept this up for way longer than I originally planned. I love it, the separation makes it easier on me mentally. The fear of rejection is almost obsolete. Ghost is capable of things with you that would be relatively impossible for Anakin. I’ve been the best man I could be, everything you deserve and more. But now it will all seem like a sham to you won’t it? After being Mr. Perfect I’ve ruined my opportunity to be a regular guy who’s made a few questionable choices.

I am that guy. I’m a good person. A good man.

But I am also Ghost. I am both. I don’t think it’s sustainable to be separate beings for much longer.

Date & time

September 4th, 12:27 Am

A tap-tap-tap on the glass of your window caught your attention, turning your head you saw the familiar plastic mask you’ve become so oddly attached to. Zipping up your black jacket you opened up the window and stepped up onto the nightstand beside the bed, much less gracefully than Ghost had done before. His leathered hands gripped your forearm and helped you pull yourself out of the window. Ghost thrust your very own small backpack in your hands.

“Hey! When did you grab this?” You asked with a tinge of annoyance. “Where’s all the stuff that was in it?”

“Chill out would you?” Ghost huffed, closing your window but leaving a small rock inn the tracks at the bottom to allow the both of you reentry later. “It’s in the top drawer of the dresser in there.”

“Ew.” You grumbled while following closely behind him. “Apparently you don’t know me as well as you seem to. You’d know I hate putting my things in places like that. Who knows what else has been in there!”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible.” He scoffed, reaching behind him to grab the back of your neck to pull you forwards to walk beside him. “I put it all in a gallon ziploc baggie. I do know you that well. Don’t ever doubt that again. Understand?” His tone was clearly annoyed, his body language changing slightly to a more guarded stance.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, receiving a grunt of acceptance.

You walked in silence, after a few hundred yards he finally relaxed again, slipping his arm over your shoulders instead of the iron grip he had previously on your neck. He rubbed your upper arm, as if apologizing through the comforting motion.

“Here’s the plan: We stake it out for a bit, see if anyone there smokes so-“

“Why would it matter if one of them smokes?” You interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, would you like to be in charge?” His ‘question’ dripping with condescension, tilting his head toward you with a small disapproving head shake. “As I was saying, We’ll need to see if anyone smokes. That way we will know how much time we have before someone comes outside.”

His head turning toward you again when you let out a soft ‘Oh.’ Of realization. He made a noise in his throat like he had expected you to say something snarky instead.

“After that we’ll start with the TP around the house, silly string the trees… then we’ll move on to chalking their cars. We’ll do it in that order.” He said firmly.

“Why? I figured we’d do the cars first, won’t they be closer?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes. That’s exactly why we’ll be doing them last.” He said with a nod. “Why would we start at the end of our route? We’ll be leaving the way we come in. Easier escape if they come out, you know?”

“Oh… yeah okay.” You nodded, giving him a suspicious look.

Although you knew he was a delinquent, it still surprised you when there were these moments of clarity. These were the moments when you realized he actually was a real criminal and not just someone playing a part. It was easy to forget all the things he’d done to you, all the horrendously illegal acts he’d committed just to gain entry into your life. He made himself so likable that it was startling even when it shouldn’t be.

“Mhm. That’s why I’m in charge of this operation and you’re not.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder affectionately.

“How do you know this stuff?” You asked in an accusatory tone.

“I have a colorful resume.” He shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it but you weren’t satisfied with such a vague answer.

“Ghost?” You asked in a softer, less hostile tone. “Have you ever stalked anyone before me?”

“What?” He asked, stooping you abruptly by throwing out his arm across your chest. He turned to face you directly, keeping a pointed finger centered on your sternum. “You know better than that.”

“Why would you ask me something like that Doe?” He asked, a hint of pain in his strained voice. “No, no I’ve never… I wouldn’t. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone in my entire life. I risked everything for you and I continue to do so every time I come in contact with you. Do you think I’d do that for anyone else?”

“Wait- hold on I didn’t mean anything by it Ghost I’m sorry.” You grabbed his wrist in a gentle grip to attempt to ground him. You didn’t think he’d be so offended by the question considering how he answered your previous inquiry. ‘Colorful resume’ seems like the kind of thing one might label stalking under.

“What did you mean then?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“I just… I guess I’m curious. I mean can you really blame me?” You asked carefully trying to navigate the conversation. “You know so much about illegal things.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean that I’ve done it before.” He grumbled. “I researched, I studied. Just like you would do to get information on anything else.”

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, I know what I’ve done is wrong. I’ve admitted that before.” He said it like he’d expected you to forget his transgressions the moment he apologized for them.

“I have no reason to lie about this. I’ve lied about… that’s beside the point okay? I’ve lied about stuff before but it was only to protect you as well as my identity and its not like I enjoyed it!” He raised his voice slightly, pulling you along with him as he restarted your trek along the lakeshore.

“You’re right, you’re right I’m sorry Ghost.” You said ashamedly, feeling bad for questioning him. You realized now that it would’ve sounded like an insult or a straightforward accusation to him.

“I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t really think-“ You paused, hearing him take a deep breath. “I guess I should say that I didn’t actually think you’ve stalked someone before.”

“I don’t like that word you know.” He said, the voice changer crackling from the quietness of his words. “Stalking makes it sound bad. What I did or do, it’s not stalking. Stalking conveys harm. I’m the last person on earth who would hurt you. I watch you.”

“I suppose you’re right about that.” You nodded, understanding his approach. Stalking definitely was what he was doing, but it also definitely held a really negative connotation which didn’t fit the situation entirely, maybe in the beginning but certainly not now.

“I know I’m right.” He grumbled, shaking his head at you in disappointment. You couldn’t help but chide yourself for ruining the more upbeat mood you’d started off the night with.

“I- okay you know what?” He sighed taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve never ‘stalked’ anyone but you. But there’s other stuff. I’m so good at ‘this stuff’,” He air quoted. “Because I’ve got a juvenile record for a few small time crimes. Theft, Break and Enter, Assault.”

“Ah-“ He stopped you by clapping his unoccupied hand over your mouth when he heard you breath in sharply. “Not sexual assault. I beat someone up because they saw me doin’ something I didn’t want them to see.”

“Oh, well… okay that makes me feel better.” You nodded, believing him because- well why not? He was willingly sharing this information with you. He felt the need to explain himself and he was finally sharing some real personal information, possibly identifying information. Although there was one thing that made you doubt the truth in his confession. “So, why the rape kink then? And that’s not me accusing you of lying, I’m just genuinely curious.”

He chuckled, surprised yet strangely proud that you were brave enough to question that. “Good girl. See? I’ve made you a brave little Doe haven’t I? I figured you’d straight up not believe me.”

“I have no reason to think you lied about it. I mean, I know what you’ve done to me.” You trailed off, suddenly rethinking your choices to trust his word. He had sexually assaulted you in many ways on many occasions even if you didn’t admit it to yourself. Even though you didn’t want to see it that way, that’s the truth. “You told me about it, showed me pictures, so I guess i don’t have a reason to doubt you.”

“That’s one way to look at it I suppose.” He shrugged, swinging his arm back and forth as he held your hand. “Well anyway, I watched a bunch of horror movies when I was a kid. I had unchecked access to the internet and my mom didn’t check my rentals from the Blockbuster.”

“Rented some horror movie with a cheerleader in it when I was like eight, had some really brutal scene in it but, it was the first time I saw a girl naked so I think I traumatized myself. So, its really not my fault.” He didn’t sound the least bit ashamed at the admission but you can’t really blame him can you? You enjoyed what he’d done, you thought it was hot when you realized why you’d been so ridiculously horny for so long.

“I mean…” You laughed a little bit, unable to come up with a good response to this new bit of information you’d managed to dig out of him.

“Mhm.” He chuckled, “Any questions? I know you have some.” You could just imagine the grin on his face from the tone of his voice. It was clear he was elated that you took his word for gospel.

“Why’d you steal stuff? Break into peoples houses?” You had a third question, but refrained from asking for fear of being a bit insensitive and possibly a tad ignorant. Not everyone steals because of necessity.

“I don’t know.” He said with a small laugh. “No reason really, I guess just because I could.”

“That’s s-“

“Stupid? Yeah it was.” He laughed, the sound mechanical but with a rich timbre that was warm, hearty.

“So the guy you assaulted. What’s that all about?” You asked, looking out over the lake to appreciate the beautiful night waters while you listened to him talk.

“Right.” He sighed, his hand snaking beneath his mask to scratch his neck anxiously. “Well here’s the thing: I made some mistakes. I know that. I knew it then too.”

He looked down, shoving his unoccupied and jittery hand in his pocket before kicking a pebble into the lake, disrupting the serenity of the black liquid. He took a deep breath and tilted his head up to the sky, letting it out through his nose in an effort to reach into his mind and come up with something that didn’t sound as bad as it actually was.

“Alright, I was a weird kid. Believe it or not.” He chuckled nervously, trying to use a bit of self deprecating humor to lighten up the subject. “I won’t go into too much detail, because I personally don’t like to think about it and I’m sure you won’t want to think about it.”

“The long and short of it is this: I was 14 and I hurt some… thing. I was mean.” He admitted, skillfully being as vague as he possibly could. “The guy, some kid I went to middle school with, it was his dad that saw me. So I realized I couldn’t talk myself out of it, you know since he was an adult.”

“Well we lived in a subdivision and there was a big dumpster toward the back entrance, that’s where I was.” He audibly swallowed, you could tell by the way his grip on your hand changed that his palms were sweating beneath his gloves.

“Someone had thrown out some furniture, sawed a janky old table up to make it fit in the dumpster. So I grabbed one of the wood pieces and swung it at him.”

“If I didn’t have a real good lawyer and a therapist behind me they would’ve charged me with attempted murder.” He said in a softer voice, apologetic as he spoke.

“I was just scared. He was yellin’ and he was a big dude and I wasn’t the most buff kid on the block.” He said with a slight laugh, giving you a half glance as if he were afraid to see your expression.

“I… I’m sorry that happened.” Your words surprised him so much that he needed you to repeat them. So you did.

“Why?” He asked in confusion.

“Sounds like you just needed some help.” You replied with a sad smile.

In reality, Ghost was one hundred percent in the wrong, you knew that. Despite his age at the time, what he told you and didn’t tell you were both obvious crimes. He may have been 13 but he admitted he knew it was wrong even then.

He wasn’t apologetic because he felt bad about it. He was apologetic because he hated that you had to hear it.

The information wasn’t a groundbreaking story, nor was it an earth shattering revelation that you would’ve never expected to hear from him. Were you surprised he’d shared the information with you? Absolutely, but, surprised about the content? Not at all.

You had more questions.

What was the ‘something’? Why was he there? Why did he do it? What exactly did he do? It must’ve been something serious for him to reflexively clock a grown man with a wooden plank. None of those were questions you really wanted to ask though. You were curious, just not curious enough to willingly soil your gold plated version of him if you didn’t have to.

“Did you get charged for the other thing?” You asked, thinking that might be enough to quench the curiosity.

“No I didn’t.” He shook his head. “My lawyer handled it. I didn’t go to Juvy either like I should’ve.” He clicked his tongue, kicking at another rock. “Some how the lady got the judge to agree to me ‘serving’ out my time in a state school for little shitheads. I spent 8th through 10th grade with kids who were just as bad or worse than I was. Summers doing ‘volunteer’ work, which is just legal jargon for unpaid child labor.”

“I guess the state thought if I was too tired from digging ditches and doing grunt work, then I’d be less inclined to reoffend.” He shrugged, crouching down in front of you when he saw you were getting a bit tired of walking.

You climbed up, holding onto his shoulders and letting him hoist you up on his back. Those strong hands of his gripping the backs of your thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked, resting your chin atop his head.

“Well I certainly haven’t hit anyone with any furn- er well a piece of a table since then.” He laughed nervously, thankful you couldn’t see the horribly worried look he had on his face.

“So when did you do all the breaking and entering? Before or after?” You asked.

“Both.” He said simply.

You could tell the conversation was wearing on him in a way that seemed unpleasant. You didn’t want him to have a dampened mood just because you’d pried to hard. This was immense progress, he’d never shared this much about himself before and you didn’t want to ruin the chance of it happening again.

You allowed the flow of exchange to trickle into a complete stop. Letting him piggyback you in silence while you finally took an opportunity to scan your surroundings. When you did, you realized just how far you’d walked, you could see your cabin from across the lake, caddy-cornered to your current position but it wouldn’t be much longer until you were staring staring at it from in front of your target.

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

“Alright, hop down baby Doe.” He patted your hip, motioning you to crouch down behind the bushes with him to survey the area and figure out a time frame in which you could safely trash the place.

“How long will we wait?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for balance.

“Thirty minutes should do it.” He said quietly, watching the front door and the movement in the soft yellow lighting filtering through the curtains in the cabin. “Most people, especially if they’re drunk, chain smoke or at the very least every fifteen to thirty minutes.”

“You smoke don’t you?” You asked him and he tilted his head toward you with a light laugh.

“Yeah I do. How’d you know?” He asked, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You taste like it sometimes.” You admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Aright Doe.” Ghost nodded, “what brand?”

“Huh?” You looked at him with confusion, how in the hell were you supposed to know that?

“C’mon. I know you’ve smoked before. They all taste different.” He teased, turning his attention back to the front door. “Menthol or regular?”

“Regular.”

“Good, that one was easy.” He laughed, nodding for you to go ahead with your next guess.

“Marlboro Red.” You said with a grin.

“Damn. Look at you, fuckin’ creep.” He laughed and reached over to squeeze your knee.

“I only know that cause of A- er well, never mind.” You cut yourself off, scowling at the fact you’d almost mentioned Anakin in front of him. Anakin had already unknowingly salted your mood earlier in the night and there was no reason to rehash that unsavory moment now.

“Oh, right.” Ghost nodded, shifting slightly to kneel. He pulled his phone from his pocket, turning the screen away from you before slipping it back in his pocket. “Let’s go babydoll.” He whispered, pulling you up by your arm.

“Need to piss before we toss this toilet paper all over the place?” He handed you a roll from his backpack with a childish giggle.

“No thank you.” Shaking your head he motioned for you to crouch down again, staying low and out of sight from the window. The closer you got to the cabin, the louder the music inside grew.

“Wanna look inside?” He asked as he tapped your shoulder, “See what a boy sleepover looks like?”

“Bet they’re all half naked, pillow fightin’ and giggling like school girls.” He snickered at the way you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

Raising up from your hiding spot you peeked in the window through a tiny sliver of space in between the curtains. Inside were the group of frat boys that had pestered you earlier in the day. Although they were not having a lusty pillow fight, they were doing something just as bad, maybe worse.

“Ah! Oh my god.” You squeaked and covered your eyes, turning away quickly.

“What? Did they see you?” Ghost gripped your upper arm and moved you out of the way to have a look for himself, his hand poised and at the ready to pull out his knife. Instead, he snorted and fell to his hands and knees. “Shit, sorry I should’ve looked first.”

“I’ve heard of strip poker, but I’ve never heard of strip pong.” You shivered, knowing you’d never be able to erase that tainted image from your brain. Four mostly nude guys playing beer pong was not on your list of deviant activities for the night.

“C’mon. This just proves they deserve it, huh?” He stood up and dusted himself off, poking his head around the corner to makes sure the coast was clear. “Oh, almost forgot.” He said, pulling your pink silk handkerchief from his back pocket.

“Let me put this on you, just in case.” Lifting it up and tying it around the lower half of your face.

“Do I look the part?” You teased, one hand on your hip and the other holding up the roll of TP like a football.

“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “Giving Thelma and Louise a run for their money.”

“Shut up.” You giggled and followed him to the back of the cabin where he gave you a designated spot to stand while he ran back to the front.

Soon enough you saw a roll sailing through the air toward you, followed by two more. After hitting the ground and unfurling a bit more you picked one up and tossed it back over the cabin, repeating the process until all six of the rolls he’d brought with him were strewn across the roof of the small cabin.

You heard a sharp ‘woo-hoo’ whistled out into the night, following the sound to the side yard where Ghost tossed a can of silly string the size of a hairspray can to you. You watched for a minute, just smiling at the way he was so happily running in circles around a tree, spraying in one continuous string until the trunk was sufficiently silly-strung.

It was like watching a kid go to a playground for the first time. He was treating this like a play date at the monkey bars, hopping around with a spray can in each hand to aim as high as he could.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, sounding a bit winded from his sudden burst of the human zoomies.

“Just… watching.” You grinned, grateful he couldn’t see just how big that smile you were hiding was.

He sprinted toward you, holding out both cans, spraying you with them as he chased you through the yard to the other side, where he hadn’t gotten any of the trees yet.

“Ghost!” You squealed when he caught up to you and pulled you to the ground with him. “Quit it! You’re gonna get us caught!”

“No. You’re the one screaming.” He laughed, hovering over you with his hands planted firmly on the ground at either side of your head.

“Not my fault.” You grumbled as he helped you back up, dusting your clothes off for you which was really just an excuse to grope your ass.

“Well it’s not my fault either.” He said, snaking his arms around your waist. “It’s just so cute when you run from me.”

He gave you a soft smack on the ass before sending you off to work on the remaining trees in the yard, leaning against the side of the cabin. It was his turn to watch. He liked seeing this side of you, a little adventurous, dipping your pinky toe into danger but still the same sweet girl he fell in love with.

“Next up.” He tossed the empty silly string cans into a pile in the front yard near the porch steps, replacing the one in your hand with a can of washable spray chalk.

“I call the truck.” He said, pointing toward a huge white Dodge Ram. He waved you off to take care of the two smaller vehicles.

Ghost took his time with red chalk paint to graffiti a tiny dick with a massive set of balls on the hood of the truck, it might be 12 year old boy humor but it still made you laugh. That’s all it should’ve done. Give you a giggle.

A graffiti dick shouldn’t really provoke intense thought should it?

It reminded you of how Anakin always said guys with obnoxious trucks were ‘compensating’ for a small dick. A weird coincidence, or maybe you were just still subconsciously thinking of Anakin and how he’d made you upset, so your brain was just selecting things that you associated with him and making them stick out to you.

You didn’t have too much time to think on it however because while you were busy painting the little grey Mazda with random doodles, Ghost had gotten the two of you in a bit of a pickle. He’d taken the time to consider smoke breaks, but frat boys are unpredictable off-paper. Mixing alcohol and stupidity often leads to unexpected activities and generally unwise ideas. In this case it seemed your group of targets had decided it was a really great idea to take a post midnight dip in the lake.

“Hey, what the hell is this?” One of them drunkenly laughed out loud after stepping out into the grass barefooted.

You heard Ghost’s boots crunch on the gravel before you felt his big arms scooping you and your bag up, packing you to the woods edge. He sat you down as gently as he could during his panicked scramble.

“Which one of you fuck-heads spray painted my truck?” A different guy who sounded familiar, possibly the one who’d spoken directly to you, yelled at his group of friends. He clumsily jogged over to his vehicle and climbed up on the driver side wheel to assess the damage. He laughed, thinking it was funny until he realized his friends were all denying responsibility.

“Wasn’t me man. We’ve all been inside with you for the last two hours dude.”

“Brandon! It was you wasn’t it?” The white truck guy hopped down from the tire and stumbled over toward his friend group.

“What? No!” Brandon yelled, shoving his friend away from him with a sloppy swing of his left arm.

“Chill out, it wasn’t anyone here.” The only one of the group who I sounded a bit more sober than the rest. “I know for a fact it wasn’t Brandon. He was chucking his guts in the bathroom for an hour and then he was playing pong.”

“Well who the hell was it then?”

Meanwhile Ghost was holding you still behind the bushes, trying to figure a way out of the situation he’d put the two of you in. He had just wanted some quality bonding time with you, outside your apartment and all had went swimmingly up till these drunken fools ruined it for him. He couldn’t just stand up and walk off, they were too close, especially white truck guy. There was not way he was willing to put you in harm’s way like that.

“Alright doe, just stay quiet.” He said, his voice low and dropping in and out of the filter.

“Ghost, lets just go." You whispered, tugging on his arm.

He grumbled, grabbing both you wrists and pinning you down. “Shut your goddamn mouth stupid bitch."

“Did you hear that?” One of the guys slurred, the voice coming closer along with a few separate pairs of footsteps.

Ghost held his hand over your mouth to keep you from nervously rambling. These frat boys posed no real threat for Ghost in a one on one, but there was a group of them and they were wasted, which meant they were a threat to you.

“Listen, I’m sure whoever it was is long gone now.” The least drunk one shouted out to the rest of the group that had begun to walk your way. “We’ll clean up in the morning.”

“I’m not cleaning shit!” White truck guy yelled back to him. “I didn’t do this, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“Adam calm down, it was probably just some kids.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! They spray painted my fucking truck, Wyatt!” Adam shouted, stomping around the vehicles, crouching down to look beneath them for any clues.

“Maybe those girls will help, you know the ones from across the lake?” Adam suggested, thinking maybe the suggestion would calm his friend down, not realizing there was an angry Ghost bristling with irritation at the mere mention of you and your sister.

“Fuck ‘em.” Adam grumbled picking up a long stick to poke around in the brush surrounding the edge of the yard. “Those bitches are probably in on it.”

“C’mon man don’t be like that. They didn’t do this, you're just mad they didn’t wanna fuck.” Brandon laughed.

Ghost gripped you a bit tighter as he listened to them. He could call you a bitch, he meant it affectionately but these guys didn’t have that privilege. They don’t know you, they don’t have any right to call you anything, let alone feel entitled to the opportunity to lay their hands on you. Or your sister for that matter.

“So what?” Adam said angrily, “They were just actin’ coy cause that queer kid was there.”

“Just didn’t want the little fag to feel bad that they were dick magnets and he wasn’t.” Another one of the boys joined in, each word from their mouths making Ghost’s blood boil a bit hotter and make your stomach churn a little more.

“Bet I could go down there and get sweet cheeks in bed with me, make her clean this shit up in the morning before I drive her back over there.” Adam cackle laughed, throwing the driver side truck door open the keys already in the ignition judging by the way the interior lights turned on along with the beep of the indicator light.

“Sweet cheeks?” Ghost muttered, “They’re talkin’ bout you. See? This is why I don’t like you going places without me!”

“What if I wasn’t here, huh? What if these assholes rolled up and it was just you and your sister?” He whispered angrily.

“Luke would-”

“Luke would do his best, he would. But he doesn’t carry a weapon now does he?” He snapped back at you.

“No.” You answered quietly, muffled behind his hand. You definitely understood where he was coming from, but also not really. You went places without him all the time, of course he was always aware of your location and now he was aware of your audible conversations too. But, he wasn’t always there physically.

“That’s right. Now get ready to run.” He said quickly, shifting his weight to lift himself to his knees.

“What?” You said in a panicked voice, eyes wide with a sudden streak of fear.

“Just do what I say and it’ll be fine Doe.”

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

“Remember that uh, that one chick from East Greene?” Brandon said, nudging his friend in the side.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah the redhead we did poppers with?” Adam laughed, jumping back down from his truck, shutting the truck door for the time being, the annoying dinging coming from inside the cab finally coming to a halt.

“Mhm, that’s not what I remember her for.” Brandon clapped him on the back, “What’d we call it? ‘Redhead n’ Spread’.”

“Hey, let’s not talk about that.” Wyatt cut in, trying to stop the conversation before it went too far. “Someone wasn’t there remember?” He nodded over to his right at a skinny, short guy in pastel golf shorts.

“Aw Zach ain’t gonna say nothin’.” Adam shushed him, “Not if we bring him with us tonight.”

“Tonight? What’s going on tonight?” Wyatt asked him with a bit of confusion.

“Going tomcattin’.” Adam grinned, laying on his faint southern accent just a little bit thicker.

“Shit, alright.” Wyatt laughed, bouncing on the heels of his feet excitedly. “Let's get Zachary fully initiated.”

“No way, really?” Zach spoke up, hearing the tail end of the conversation. “I thought I still had another week left?”

“Not if you tomcat with us.” Adam said, cracking open a new beer. The group seemed to have completely forgotten the mess you and Ghost had made, obviously more interested in the plans they were making.

“Alright, well I’m not a good ol’ boy like you.” Zach snickered. “What the fuck is tomcattin’?”

“Well, youngin’.” Adam threw his arm around his friends shoulder and leaned in, poking him in the chest with his pinky finger before upturning the beer in the same hand to pour into Zach’s mouth while he explained. “ Tomcattin’ is when some eligible bachelors such as ourselves, go prowl for a bitch, or well, I suppose we outta call ‘em a kitty shouldn’t we?”

His buddies howled out in drunken laughter at his horribly offensive, demeaning joke. Now, they were talking about something Ghost couldn’t excuse or dismiss. It’s one thing to have a wandering eye. If he were to jab out the eyes of every man who looked your way, half the city would be eligible for a service dog. But this, this was different. This was a threat, not just the drunken ramblings of some idiot, this was clearly something this group, or at the very least, Adam, did more than once.

“What’d ya say? Ready to corner a kitty?” Wyatt smacked Zach on the arm.

“Corner a girl?” Zach asked with a confused look. “You mean like, go out to the bar and see if I can find someone to take home?”

“Why the hell would we do that when there’s perfectly good pussy right over there?” Adam snorted, pointing across the lake toward your cabin.

“There’s two, plenty to go around.” Brandon chimed in, a sick smile on his lips.

“Didn’t that one say she was married? I don't think they seemed very interested.” Zach said with an awkward laugh.

“Shit, they don’t have to be interested. As long as you’re interested that’s all that matters.” Adam laughed.

“C’mon don’t be a bitch Zach.” Wyatt elbowed him, trying to egg him on. “We’ve all done it. I did it for initiation, Brandon did it last year and we all hopped in on it. Might as well do the same this time right?”

“Yeah, don’t you wanna get some puss?” Adam laughed, rubbing his hands together.

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

“I’ve heard enough.” Ghost gritted his teeth, his fingers flexing in preparation. “Change of plans.”

“You’re going to get in that truck and book it back to your cabin. Pack up and leave.” He grabbed your arm roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“What?” You whispered in surprise “I’m not doing that!”

“Oh, yes you will.” He said squishing your cheeks in his other hand. “Kisses.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss the cheek of his mask, pulling your arm out of his grasp. He hesitated, keeping those big, dark eyes trained on yours.

“I want you to go.” He said in a gentler tone. “Please?”

“No.” You shook your head and crossed your arms in defiance. “I will not be stealing a truck and I will not be leaving.”

He growled, putting his head down and then looking back over to the group of men. With both of your hands in his he put the forehead of his mask against yours. He dropped your hands, pulling you against his chest tightly, cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

“Swear to me you won’t look.” He pleaded, sounding desperate.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked nervously.

“Swear to me.” He demanded, squeezing you tighter to put stress on his warning. “I’m just gonna scare them, but you have to promise me doe.”

“I promise.”

“Head down, don’t move.” He said, petting your hair and scratching your scalp with his gloved fingers. “This is for you. Just in case, gun’s in the bag.” He opened up his backpack to show you the gun and bullets and then shoved the rose handled butterfly knife into your hand, enclosing your fingers around it.

“Wait, don’t you need this?” You asked with a grimace, not wanting to think about the possibility that either of you would need to use it.

“I have two more.” He said as if it were completely normal to carry around three knives at any given time. You watched as he fished around for a ziploc bag full of zip ties, taking out a handful and shoving them in his pocket.

“Don't you dare do anything stupid, you hear me?” He grabbed your face with both his hands and pressed his forehead to yours once more.

“Yes sir.” You gave him a nervous smile.

“Now is not the time to be a smartass.” He grumbled, pushing you down gently to make sure you wouldn’t see whatever it was he planned on doing.

Ghost crept around the side of the big white truck, flipping out one of his knives from his back pocket in a showy spin. He jabbed the back left tire of the truck, a loud hissing pop coming from the pierced rubber. It was loud enough to catch the groups attention, their heads turning toward the noise. Ghost stood still, twirling his second favorite knife around the back of his hand by hooking it with his thumb.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Adam yelled, throwing his beer can at Ghost. It fell about three feet in front of him, a sloppy throw executed by a sloppy drunk. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

“I’m your vet, heard you needed to be neutered.” Ghost said, his filtered voice echoing through the trees. He walked toward them slowly, flicking his wrist to hold the knife in a back handed grip, running the tip of the blade down the side of the truck as he walked past. The sharp steel on the bright white paint scraped it off with a loud, grating, screeching noise.

“Alright, who the hell sent you here?” Adam stormed over to him and shoved his shoulder. “Those little shits from Delta Chi?”

“Mm, no.” Ghost grabbed his wrist and dug his thumb into the tender spot just below the heel of Adam’s palm.

“Did you do all this?” Adam asked angrily, trying to twist his arm out of Ghost’s firmly closed fist. “You’re gonna clean this up or I’ll call the owners.”

“I think this mess is the least of your worries, Adam.” Ghost growled, shoving him backward and letting him fall to the ground, landing on his ass.

“Yeah?” Adam stood back up, stumbling on his feet and landing against the side of his truck for support. “You went to the fuckin’ Party City and think you’re some kind of big tough guy?”

“No,” Ghost grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the truck door, using his forearm to press against Adam’s windpipe. “I actually went to the Spirit Halloween.”

“Like you could take on all of us? With that little thing?” Adam laughed loudly, nodding toward Ghost’s knife with the small range of motion he had in the position he was stuck in.

“All of you?” Ghost chuckled, throwing Adam to the ground and following him so he could grab him by the hair, lifting his head to show him that all his ‘friends’ had left him to fend for himself.

“So much for frat loyalty.” Ghost laughed, kneeling on Adam’s back to keep him pinned down. He wrenched the man’s hand out from underneath him, splaying his fingers out on the ground in front of his face. “Listen, I know what you were planning to do. I heard you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Adam yelled, putting up quite the fight against Ghost, enough that he needed to fully straddle him to hold him still.

“Tomcatting, RedHead n’ Spread…” Ghost repeated, “You make me sick.”

“Oh whatever.” Adam spat, sounding strained as he kicked and squirmed. “Brandon!” He shouted, breathing in to call out again.

“You ever played Nerve?” Ghost asked, twirling his knife, returning it to a backhand grasp to stab into the dirt between Adam’s fingers.

“Shit- Brandon! W-Wyatt! Get your ass back over here!” He squealed while Ghost threaded the knife back and forth through his fingers, stabbing it rapidly into the dirt.

“You know, one of those ‘kitties’ you were thinking about hurting… she’s mine.” Ghost growled, purposely nicking Adam’s thumb, making him yelp.

“I’m sorry! Jesus- let me go man. I- I was just tryin’ to mess with the recruit!” Adam panted, trying to turn over beneath Ghost.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Ghost grunted, slicing the side of Adam’s hand.

“Fuck!” Adam screamed, thrashing around, trying to bite at the leather glove closest to his face. “Brandon! This guy’s tryna kill me!”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.” Ghost plunged the knife into the meaty part of Adam’s hand between his thumb and forefinger. He drove it all the way into the dirt below, trapping it there while Adam’s hand shook from the pain.

“Sorry, don’t have a paperweight buddy.” Ghost sighed, his tone dripping in apathy.

Ghost fished around in his pants shorts pockets, finding his wallet and cellphone. He lifted up Adam’s head by his hair to use the face ID on his phone, once it was unlocked he scrolled through it, ignoring the whiny protests from the guy trapped beneath him. With several contacts and a few screenshots of social media accounts airdropped to his own phone he chucked Adam’s somewhere out into the yard. He then picked though his wallet, taking out his credit cards with his second knife, he stacked them together and chopped them up like he was cutting through a bar of soap.

“What the hell is your problem?” Adam cried, snot dripping from his nose.

“You are my problem.” Ghost chuckled, taking the cash from the wallet and tucking it away in his pocket. Ghost grabbed Adam’s pinned hand, jerking it backward quickly to make the removal of the blade just a tad more painful.

“God, would you shut up? It’s not that bad.” Ghost grumbled, zip tying his hands together behind his back, making him stand so he could lead him into the cabin. “Let’s go say hi to your friends.”

Part Sixteen

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sailor-aviator · 2 days

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Fool's Fare: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: ASSAULT, ATTEMPTED SA, feelings of jealousy, reader avoiding her problems, smut (pain kink, fingering, dry humping, p in v, dirty talk, slight breeding kink), arguing, descriptions of blood, violence, misplaced rage, idiots in love. I think that's it, but PLEASE let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 5.7k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You always thought monsters were found solely in the spoken words of stories passed from person to person in low lights, in hushed whispers, in frantic glances.

They were the things that parents warned their children about, their gnashing teeth and glowing eyes hunting them in the dark, reminding them to stay close, to stay mindful, to stay safe.

You didn’t believe in monsters. You hadn’t since you were little, but now you wondered if monsters weren’t the creatures that roamed the nights, preying on children and unsuspecting folks as they traversed the shadows. Perhaps they were the unsuspecting victims of circumstance, the victims of choices made and consequences dealt with no care for the intentions behind them.

Did any one person ever intend to become a monster? To become the thing that parents warned their children about? Were they born or were they made? Was a monster capable of being a good person? Or did the title bar one from redemption? Were they even capable of love?

Captain Jake Seresin was a good man, of this you were sure and certain. You saw the way he treated the men of his crew with respect and fairness no matter how far down the totem pole they were. You saw how he smiled at the children in the different port town, green eyes twinkling as he waved at the babies and ruffled the hair of the small children that greeted him. You saw the way he closed his eyes in the setting sun, the sea breeze ruffling his golden locks, the smile that lay in a shadow on his lips as he savored the moment.

You watched him in those moments, wondering how anyone could think him a monster. You were no stranger to his harder moments or his rougher actions, but you supposed you had your fair share of the same. Despite seeing the uglier side of him, if you could even call it that, you still found yourself drawn to the rugged captain all the same. Your eyes would wander toward him before you even had the chance to realize what you were doing, green eyes meeting yours and snapping you out of your reverie as heat would rise to your cheeks. It was a wonder the roof of your cabin had no holes in it from the way you lay awake at night, staring daggers into the worn wood as your mind raced with thoughts of the captain, of what would happen should you either fail or succeed in having the curse lifted.

It had been two weeks since the events on the isle, and the captain had yet to lay a finger on you, as promised. On more than one occasion you had waited with bated breath as he would reach for you, only to huff quietly in disappointment as he would stop and let his fingers drop back to his sides. You found you missed his touch, the constant reassurance it brought to you that you were safe under the watchful eyes of your captain.

Truly, you found that you missed having him around you so constantly. You missed the late night filled with quiet laughter and the shared tales of growing up in your different parts of the world. The way his fingers would play with the ends of your hair or smooth over your cheeks as he studied you while you told your stories. Or the way his emerald eyes would light up with joy as he recounted a story of he and Javy back in the days before he took command of the Hangman. You missed him.

Of course, the captain was sure to keep up with your sword lessons, and you were proud to say that his hits were growing fewer and farther in between. You had yet to best him, but you caught the flashes of pride that danced in his eyes every time you came close.

You once again found yourself perched in a chair inside a busy tavern, the other ladies bustling around the room with drinks and ample cleavage on display for wandering eyes of men. You saw several members of your own crew casting longing glances at the ladies, and you suspected several of the newer members would try their hands at sating the undeterrable desire that coursed their veins.

You let out a long, labored sigh as you rested your chin on your fist, eyes scanning the room with disinterest as the men spoke around you. Natasha sat across the room, a gaggle of men surrounding her as she regaled them with titillating tales of her adventures and coy flirtations disguised as teasing japes. You wondered if you could ever find yourself feeling so carefree, envying her ability to forget the current circumstances as the deadline to end the curse drew nearer with each passing day.

The tension from your group of friends was palpable as they watched the blond captain oversee the signing of the poor, new souls sign away their lives to one of servitude. Javy stood at his side, arms crossed with a stoic expression on his face, but the way he would glance over towards Natasha just a few tables over was not lost to your watchful eye.

A pretty red head sauntered over towards where your captain sat, a lascivious smile curled on her painted lips as her eyes wandered over Jake’s form draped across the wooden chair. A manicured hand came up to rest on his shoulder, dipping down towards the open V of his cotton shirt as she leaned down to whisper something in his ear. His hand reached up to hers, taking it, and you felt the ugly twist of heat curl in your chest as your cheeks warmed. You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the stone floor as the others cast wary glances your way.

“I need some air,” you muttered, already moving towards the exit, shoving past the several large bodies, drunkenly swaying as they blocked your escape route. If the others called after you, you didn’t hear them over the noise of the tavern and the blood rushing in your ears. He would touch her, but not you? His touch you had to beg for, seeking it out yourself because he refused to touch you for some stupid sense of honor and valiance, and yet he gave it freely to the first woman who came in his sights.

The night air was cool on your skin as you finally managed to break through the crowd. You paused only for a brief moment before you pushed forward, determined to put some distance between yourself and the stifling air of merriment.

You had made it only a few yards before you heard your name ring out in the quiet streets, the familiar timbre causing your heart to clench in mixture of anguish and anger as your thoughts swirled inside your head. He had deprived you of his comfort for weeks, had kept you at bay and away from him for so long, and now he suddenly wanted you?

You ignored him as you sped up your pace, hearing the sound of his footsteps pick up as well. You rounded a corner, pushing yourself back against the entryway of one of the buildings and out of the dim light cast by the streetlamps. You waited with bated breath as the footsteps rounded the corner, a flash of blond jogging past your hiding place before coming to a slow stop once he realized you were nowhere in sight.

“Guppy?” He called, uncertainty laced in his voice. You stayed silent, still, as he glanced around the buildings lining the street. You shifted in the shadows, pressing yourself as far back as you could as you watched him. He let out a deep sigh, hunching over as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy, please,” he said again, twisting as he inspected the shadows. “Can we talk?”

You didn’t want to talk, not with him. At least, not in that moment. No, you wanted him to feel as helpless as you had for two weeks, reaching out only to be ignored. You wouldn’t forgive him so easily.

You needed a moment to breathe, to think. You had been afforded so little time to yourself, constantly bombarded with tasks on the ship in between your sword lessons and chatter with your friends. You hadn’t allowed yourself a moment to process the events of the isle and the information you gathered after, and you found your frustrations and feelings from the past two weeks boiling to the surface.

Jake let out a curse under his breath as he paused in his turning. You watched as his teeth worried on his bottom lip, indecision clear on his face before stalking off in the opposite direction. You waited a few moments, making sure he was gone before slipping out from the shadows, scanning the street for signs of anyone. Seeing signs of no one, you looked back one last time in the direction the captain had disappeared in before turning towards the harbor.

You managed to make it back to the ship before the tears started leaking past your carefully constructed wall of feigned indifference. It was quiet, the entire crew having decided to try and find some sense of normalcy at the tavern, and you were thankful for that serendipitous turn of events as you padded across the deck towards the stairs to the galley.

The ship swayed in the tide, causing you to be somewhat unsteady on your feet as you stumbled towards the kitchen. The ale felt sour in your belly, and you were sure some food would help settle it before you retired for the evening to wallow in your feelings.

A part of you knew you were being unreasonable in how you were handling the situation, and as you scrounged up some bread, you huffed at your own unwillingness to address the issue.

You would never move past this rough spot unless you sat down to have a conversation with the captain. Two weeks had allowed the wounds to fester, and avoiding the situation would only make it worse.

You had just found the last of the cheese, making a mental note to pick some up at the market tomorrow before departure when the creak of one of the floorboards caused you to pause. Letting out a sigh, you turned around towards the entrance to the kitchen. It was the captain you had expected to see, so it surprised you to see one of the crew members bracing himself against the frame of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on where you stood. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought him drunk or ill with the way his skin shone with sweat, the paleness of him showing in stark contrast to the shadows of the room. The bags under his eyes caused him to have a skeletal appearance, and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as the two of you stared at one another.

“Evening,” you offered, wincing at how small your voice sounded. “Can I help you?”

The man said nothing, thin lips turning downwards as he cocked his head to the side. He took a slow, heavy step forward, and your eyes immediately darted towards the knife that lay on the edge of the counter. It wouldn’t kill him or cause much harm by any means, but it might slow him down enough for you to escape should you need to.

“Are you hungry?” You asked him, inching slowly towards the knife so as not to cause suspicion. “I can make you something if you like.”

“You know we’re always hungry,” he sneered, looking at you with disdain. “Haven’t had a sated belly in months. Haven’t had a drink that’s not left me more parched than before either. And women…”

He paused, eyes raking over your still form, and your heart pounded in your chest. The night was still fairly early, and you would be surprised if anyone made their way back to the ship anytime soon.

“We all know that you’re the only source of relief on this ship,” he continued, eyes growing impossibly darker as he took another step towards you. “You’re always surrounded by that lot, though. None of us can get close to you. Tha’s why when I saw you leave, I knew I had to take my chance.”

You felt your fingers twitch as you glanced back over at the knife, taking a small step sideways as he took another haggard step forward.

“Chance at what?” You asked him, voice barely above a whisper, and you cursed yourself for how shaky it sounded. The man stopped, standing slightly straighter as his cold, black eyes fixated on you.

“Relief,” he uttered, the word barely passing his lips before he lunged for you. You were faster, barely, as you scrambled for the knife. You gripped the handle in your hand, whirling around just as the man’s body crashed into yours. You let out a grunt as you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but managing to catch yourself on the counter. Fury coursed through your veins as the man’s hot breath washed over your face, his eyes blazing but almost unseeing as he reached for you. You brought your hand up, slashing at his face with the knife.

He let out a howl of pain as he clutched his now bleeding eye, falling to his knees as the thick, red liquid oozed out between his fingers, and you took the moment to scramble away from him, hissing as your hip collided with the edge of the counter. Your eyes fixed on the dinner bell hanging just by the stairs of the galley. You glanced back for half a second to see the man staggering to his feet, hand still gripping his skull as he fixed a murderous glare on you. You sucked in a breath as you bolted from the kitchen, the bell growing closer and closer as you willed your feet to move faster.

Your fingers wrapped around the rope attached to the bell and you pulled frantically, the loud clanging of the metal echoing through the room and up the stairs onto the deck. You hoped that it was loud enough for someone to hear and investigate.

Your thoughts were cut short as a hand yanked you backwards by your hair, a hiss of pain leaving your lips as your hands clawed at the ones just out of reach behind you.

“You miserable, little cunt,” the man growled, slamming you into the wood of the entrance, “I coulda been nice to ya, but now? Now I’m going to make sure it hurts.”

Your cheek ached from the force of the impact, the rough wood scratching your skin and adding to the sensation as you struggled to break free of his hold.

“Stop your squirmin’,” he muttered, hand wrapped around both of your wrists as he gripped your shoulder with the other to pull you back away from the wall. You took that moment to bring your foot back as hard as possible, heel meeting something solid in the process. The man let out a grunt of pain before his hand moved from your shoulder to grip your chin, pulling it back at an awkward angle to look at you.

“Now listen here-”

You didn’t let him finish, instead opening your mouth and biting down as hard as you could onto his fingers. He let out a pained yell as your mouth flooded with the taste of iron. He snatched his hand back, his other letting go of your wrists. You took the opportunity to flee, feet thudding up the steps to the deck. You turned your head to glance back over your shoulder, but before you could get a gauge on how far away the man was, you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

You let out a grunt as you stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs before an hand reached out to grab your hip and steady you. You reeled back, eyes locking onto brilliant green, and your body sagged in relief.

“Guppy?” Jake frowned, eyes scanning you head to toe. You were sure you looked a sight in that moment. The throbbing in your cheek was pounding, the skin there sticky with what you were sure was blood. Your wrists and shoulders ached from where the man had twisted them back.

At that moment, thundering footsteps sounded behind you, and your heart jumped in panic as you twisted around in Jake’s hold. The man’s murderous gaze landed on you, his lips curled in a sneer before dropping at the sight of the captain behind you. His skin paled as Jake’s hold on you tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes.

“What happened?” Jake barked, and the man in front of you flinched at the tone. Neither of you said a word as you stared at one another, daring the other to speak first.

Footsteps sounded on the gangway, and you turned to see a small group making their way onto the deck, headed by Javy. The quarter master stopped short as he saw the scene in front of him, his usual stoicism slipping into a look of shock before they schooled once more. He pushed his shoulders back and made quick strides to stand next to the two of you.

“Captain,” he said, arching a brow at the man behind you. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Jake growled, the tension rolling off of him in waves. A beat of silence passed before Javy let out a drawn-out sigh.

“Thomas,” he snapped, drawing the man’s attention. “Get your ass down in the galley. I’ll be dealing with you in a moment.”

The quarter master’s tone left no room for argument and the man, Thomas, cast one last glance in your direction before retreating back down the steps.

“Reuben. Mickey,” Javy barked out. Both men hurried to follow Thomas down the steps without another word, giving you curious looks as they walked by. The quarter master turned to look at the captain, lips pressed tightly together as he glanced down at you.

“You might want to get her cleaned up,” he said quietly. Jake said nothing. He guided you towards the cabin, his touch surprisingly gentle as your feet stumbled beneath you. You felt the first wave of exhaustion hit you then, sagging further into Jake’s side as he led you past the door and down the hall to his cabin.

The room was just as you remembered, not having seen it in the weeks since the captain started pushing you away. The man in question led you further into the room before guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. Your mind was foggy, but you were vaguely aware of Jake moving. The sound of water being poured from a pitcher and into a bowl filled the room, and the blond kneeled before you with a cloth in hand. He took one of your hands in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb gently.

“Guppy?” He murmured, eyes searching your face. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” you croaked quietly. Jake gave you a comforting smile that seemed strained more than anything else. He looked away to mess with the bowl to his side, wringing the cloth of the water it had soaked up before turning back to you.

“You had me worried there for a second,” he said finally, dabbing at the scratches on your cheek. “I couldn’t find you after you left the tavern, and then I heard the bell on the ship, which I thought was odd for this time of night. I go to investigate and you run right into me with one of my crew hot on your tail.”

You said nothing, eyelids drooping as you fought the urge to sleep that was quickly taking over. Jake worked methodically, dabbing gently at your cheek and wiping away the blood that stained your skin.

“You should get some rest,” he told you, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and moving to stand. You watched him, taking note of the way his brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a frown. He set the bowl on one of the tables littering the wall before turning back to you.

“You must be exhausted after today,” he continued, making his way back over to you. He brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek gently. He bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, pulling away slightly, but still lingering.

“I mean it,” he chided, hands pushing you and guiding you to lay back, “you need to get some rest. We’ll talk later, alright?”

You nodded, eyes already falling closed as he retreated.

You awoke with a start, sweat clinging to your forehead as you bolted upright. The lingering feeling of being chased hung in the air as your chest rose and fell with every pant of air. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun looked to be well in the sky from where you sat on the bed. It was at that moment that the door to the cabin swung open.

Jake stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his flushed face, as if he had been running.

“What is it?” He asked, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

You stared at him dumbly. “What?”

“I heard screaming,” he replied, brow furrowing as he inched into the room, the door closing behind him. “I thought something was wrong.”

You continued to stare at him as he padded closer, studying you.

“How’re you doing?” He asked finally, softly. The events of the night before rushed back to you. The feeling of helplessness, the pain, the fear. You thought about what Thomas had said to you, about wanting to feel relief, and a wave of anger crashed into you so suddenly that you were on your feet before you knew it. You stomped over to Jake, shoving at his chest. The captain was taken aback, stumbling backwards in his surprise.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up to defend against the blows of your fists against his chest. You ignored his outcry, swinging your hands blindly in front of you.

“Guppy, stop,” Jake said, scrambling to grab your wrists and stop you. You bared your teeth, rage pulsing through you much like it had last night.

“Dammit, stop!” He snapped, finally getting ahold of your wrists, stopping your tirade. The two of you stared at each other, panting from the exertion. Jakes eyes bored into yours, searching for what, you didn’t know. You yanked your hands free of his, pursing your lips in a tight frown as you studied him back. A warmth blossomed in your lower stomach, and your breaths grew labored for a different reason. Jake’s expression morphed into one of confusion, which didn’t last long as you leaned up to kiss him.

He let out a noise of quiet surprise before returning the kiss with enthusiasm. One hand moved to grip your waist, pulling you closer as the other snaked up to cup the back of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his neck, caution thrown to the wind as you moved your lips against his. Jake licked into your mouth, drawing out an embarrassingly loud noise from you. You felt the smirk against your lips, and a twinge of annoyance fluttered through the surface.

You pulled back, breathing heavy before pushing against Jake’s chest to dislodge yourself from his embrace. He gave you a puzzled look as you spun him around, pushing him down onto the edge of the bed. You hoisted your skirts up around you before settling down on his lap, once again attaching your lips to his. He let out a grunt that quickly dissolved into a moan as you began to rock against him, the hardness of him pressing into you through his trousers.

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you over him as his mouth devoured yours in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hands roamed his figure, up the span of his torso, over his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers entwined with his golden locks, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a drawn out grown from the man beneath you.

You clutched at his hair, yanking his head back harshly. Jake let out a hiss as his eyes focused on you. Green was swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils, and a look of pure lust adorned his face as you held him still.

“It’s your fault,” you spat, hovering your lips just over his. His brow furrowed once more.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t have gone after me if you hadn’t been avoiding me for weeks,” you continued, grinding down on the bulge in Jake’s pants. He gave a wanton moan as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Nothing to say?” You breathed, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through you.

“It wouldn’t have-fuck!” He groaned, “it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run from me.”

You let out a growl before yanking his head to the side, running your nose along his neck. You sank your teeth into the meat of his shoulder, drawing out a pathetic whimper as his grip on you tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought for control.

You let out a startled yelp as you were flipped onto your back, Jake’s hands scrambling to untie the strings of your shirt, baring your chest to him. The cool air caused your nipples to start pebbling, your chest heaving as you gazed up at him.

Jake lowered his mouth down to capture one nipple between his lips, laving it with attention as a hand reached up to grope the other. Your back arched as you threw your head back in bliss, hands curling in the soft locks of your lover once more. Jake nipped and sucked at the skin of your breast before shifting his attention to the other, and you glanced down to find him already looking at you. A smirk ghosted on his lips as he trailed a hand down under your skirts.

His fingers brushed your lower lips, sending a shiver up your spine that left you wanting more.

“Look at you,” he cooed, running his hand up and down your slit, your wetness coating him as you moaned. “Already so wet for me. You get off acting like such a wild thing all the time?”

His thumb circled your clit, and you let out a high-pitched whine as you arched into his touch. The smirk was full-blown now as you clung to him.

“Don’t you worry, pretty girl,” he murmured, cradling the back of your neck to bring your forehead to rest against his. His nose nuzzled yours as your breaths came out in quick pants. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Slowly, he pressed a finger into your entrance, your walls gripping the digit tightly, and he let out a breath.

“Fuck, so tight,” he muttered more to himself than to you. You clung to him, fingertips digging into his shoulders as he slowly pumped in and out of you, adding a second finger before long.

“Such pretty noises you make for me,” he cooed once more, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before drawing back. You tried to chase after him, but he moved just out of reach with a chuckle. “You’re squeezin’ me so hard, darlin’. You gonna let go for me?”

You let out another whimper, the coil in your belly curling tight as you scrunched your eyes closed, and you fought to hold it off just a little longer. Jake tutted, moving the hand on your neck to grip your chin firmly. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his disapproving gaze.

“Don’t you go holding back on me,” he growled, speeding up the motion of his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. “Your pleasure is mine. Now give. It. To. Me.”

With a final thrust, the coil sprang, pleasure coursing through your veins as you let out a keening moan. Jake leaned forward, swallowing your pleasure with a debauched kiss that left your head reeling for air. He pulled away, and you gasped for air, sucking in lungfuls as you came down from your high.

Jake littered soft kisses along your neck leading down to your shoulders, and a new wave of need filled you. You ran a hand through his hair, the other reaching between the two of you to pull at the laces of his britches.

“Jake,” you breathed, looking at him through your lashes. “Need you.”

Jake pulled back with a huff of a laugh as he looked down at you, hands moving to help release him from his pants.

“Not even going to wait for us to undress?” He teased, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around his length.

“Need you now,” you insisted, stroking him. He let out a groan, shifting back on his haunches as you released him, spreading your legs with a whine. Jake hesitated, and you pouted up at him.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning up slightly to get a better look at him.

“It’s just,” he paused, pressing his lips together and turning his gaze away from you. “I need to know if this is real. If this is more than just anger, and adrenaline, and any feelings you’re having about the deadline coming up.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. You sat up, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” you whispered. Jake looked back at you, eyes searching once more, and you gave him a soft smile that you hoped eased his worries.

“Kiss me,” you said. Jake returned your smile, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him with you as you laid back. The kiss morphed into one that was more debauched, quiet moans falling past your lips as Jake trailed his own down your neck.

You reached down to grip him once more, spreading your legs and aligning him with your entrance. Jake wasted no time, leaning back to watch you as he pushed inside of you slowly. You let out a gasp, hands clutching at his arms as he filled you, the slight burn pushing the air from your lungs.

“Taking me so well, sugar,” he crooned, running his knuckles along your cheek. “So warm and wet for me, fuck. Could stay inside of you forever.”

His words had you clenching around him, and he let out a strangled moan.

“You keep doin’ that, and I’m not gonna last long, darlin’,” he chuckled.

“Need you to move,” you whimpered. “Need you to fuck me.”

Jake didn’t respond, instead leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss as he pulled his hips back, only to push them forward once more. He soon found a rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping and the cacophony of noises from the two of you soon filled the room.

“Feel so good,” he muttered in between kisses along your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders now, legs wrapped around his waist, urging him on. “Never felt something this good, shit. Never wanna leave. Never want anyone else, just you. Squeezin’ me so hard, yeah. Just like that. I’m not gonna last much longer, darlin’, you just feel too good.”

“Need it,” you choked out, the coil inside of you on the brink of bursting once more. “Need to feel you.”

“Fuck, sugar,” he groaned, hips moving faster and losing their rhythm. “Want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?”

You nodded, moans escaping your lips left and right as you teetered on the edge.

“Dirty girl,” he huffed with a laugh. “Feel you clenchin’ around me. Don’t you worry, I’ll give it to you. Keep you nice and full, and then you’ll swell with me. You like the sound of that? Like the idea of me marking you from the inside out?”

Your hips bucked up to meet his, desperately chasing your release, and Jake obliged by slipping a hand between the two of you to toy with your clit.

“Need to feel you come around me, pretty girl. Then I’ll give you what you want,” he cooed. “Come for me.”

His words were all it took to send you over the precipice. Your moan caught in your throat, and your back arched as you came hard around him. Jake’s pace picked up before his hips stuttered, a moan leaving his lips as warmth flooded inside of you. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before stilling. His breath fanned across your neck, your fingers running through his hair.

Jake shifted off of you, pulling out of you with a quiet hiss as he shuffled to lay next to you. His hand gripped your waist, pulling you close with a sigh. You nuzzled into him, resting your head against the pillows as you held the captain in your arms, his head resting on your chest. Neither of you said anything for a long moment, just basking in the afterglow of your coupling.

“I love you.”

It was so quiet, you weren’t even sure you had heard it at first. Your fingers paused in his hair for a moment before continuing their path. Something swelled inside your chest, and you willed the tears to stay locked inside. What you were feeling would only serve to cause you more harm if everything went poorly, and still…

“I love you too.”

A/N: You all have the fact that I started watching Black Sails this weekend to thank for this. But seriously, I know I took an unexpected hiatus after everything that went on last month, and for a while there, I wasn't even sure about the future of this blog. Thank you all for sticking by me as I navigated what I was doing, and I hope to have more for you guys here soon!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 day

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Precious Truths: Part 6

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

Benedict follows you and Lord Montclair with a frown on his face. He seems to love to torture himself when he agreed to accompany Daphne as she chaperones your promenade with the marquess.

His eyes glance down to your arm hooked around the other man's and his brows furrow. Daphne looks up at her brother with a smirk, "Something the matter, brother?"

Benedict suddenly looks away clearing his throat, "No, no. Just, um, thinking about a piece I need to work on."

Daphne hums unconvinced, looking back at you and Lord Montclair, "They do make a handsome couple, do they not?"

"I suppose," Benedict replies as he casts his eyes down, paying more attention to the path rather than you and the marquess.

"Are you upset with me?" Daphne asks, pulling her arm away from her brother's and stopping to look at him.

Benedict looks at her with confusion, "Should I be?"

She purses her lips, "Well, I was the one who introduced the marquess to Y/N and considering your feelings-"

"Please, Daphne, I already endure this from Anthony and Kate. I do not wish to hear more of it from you," he takes a quick glance your way as the distance grows wider between you and he, "I may love her, but I cannot give her what she desires. He can," he nods to Lord Montclair.

Daphne sighs, hooking her arm around her brother's once more, "Regardless, I cannot imagine this being easy for you."

The second eldest Bridgerton sighs, "'Tis not. Hopefully, with time, it will be."

_____________________________

You hide your laughter behind your fan as you walk the path with Lord Montclair. He relays a memory he had of when he was a boy. How he tried to capture a frog and in his attempts, it jumped on his face, causing him to fall into a lake.

"That reminds me of when I was a child. I was probably two and ten years old. Be-I mean Mister Bridgerton and myself decided to sneak away onto a row boat. We had seen a fish into the lake and leaned over the edge too much. We both fell in. Our mamas were so upset with us, but we had a good laugh," you state with a giggle.

Lord Montclair chuckles, "So you have known the Bridgertons for a while?"

You nod, "Almost my entire life. They are like my second family."

"And you are the closest with the second eldest, Benedict?" the marquess asks with intrigue as he guides you to a bench for some rest.

You nod, following him to sit, "Yes. He is my dearest of friends."

Lord Montclair clears his throat, leaning closer to you, "I do not want to seem too forward, Miss L/N, but I think I have made my interest quite clear. Is it safe for me to assume that there are no romantic feelings between you and Mr. Bridgerton considering," he gestures between you and him.

You cast your eyes towards Benedict, who is now entertaining two women in conversation while Daphne speaks with their mama. You feel a twinge of jealousy as the women laugh with Benedict. No. You shouldn't feel this way. He is not yours. He never will be.

You turn back to Lord Montclair and give him a small smile, "I can assure you, my Lord, there is nothing between Mister Bridgerton and myself except for friendship."

Happy with your response, Lord Montclair changes the subject and shares another story of his youth. You nod, smile, and laugh at the appropriate times, occasionally glancing back at Benedict. Every once in a while, your eyes will meet and then look away. Your heart strings tug a little more with each wavering gaze.

It seems you like to torture yourself since you cannot help but keep your eyes away from Benedict entertaining women that wasn't you.

_______________

After your promenade and lunch with Lord Montclair and the Bridgertons, you arrive home to see your father waiting for you.

His eyes were glossy and his body slightly swaying, signifying that he was already drunk once more.

"I heard a marquess is courting you," he practically mumbles out.

"Yes, papa. I am certain he will propose before the end of the month," you respond plainly, no emotion and no love for the man who you are now unfortunate to call your father.

He hums, "And does he know of your...hobbies?"

"He only knows I enjoy reading poetry, not writing it."

"Good. A man does not want a woman who is too well-read."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to suffer from a potential strike to your face like previously, "Of course, papa." You dryly reply and head to your room.

You proceed to isolate yourself for the rest of the day. Although Lord Montclair is exactly the man many women would kill to have court them, you still cannot find yourself to fall for him completely. You don't think you ever could. You've lived a majority of your life loving Benedict Bridgerton, you aren't sure how else to live. Even if Benedict could never love you back, you will still continue to hold him dear in the depths of your heart for you and only you to know.

You didn't lie to your father that you are sure Lord Montclair will propose soon. He had spoke of marriage, children, just your potential future in general. Both of your desires and goals line up perfectly with one another and you are certain he sees it to.

Now only to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable.

________________

Benedict's heart drops to his stomach when he hears the news from Daphne: Lord Montclair plans to propose to you soon.

Obviously, he knew it was bound to happen. Of course he would propose to you. You, perfect, beautiful, intelligent, cunning, funny, wonderful you.

It was inevitable and it was becoming even more real that Benedict would lose you forever.

It was then that Benedict decided to drown himself in his art. Go to parties, brothels, bars, whatever he can as much as possible to forget the pain in his heart.

If only he wasn't so stubborn and truly listen to his heart and his family. He could be with you and give you everything you want and deserve.

But alas, he was just too blind and hard headed to see it.

Lady Whistledown, however, made it well known to the Ton of how she as well as a majority of Mayfair, expected him and you to marry.

__________________

Two weeks. It took two weeks of courting until Lord Montclair asked your father's permission to marry you. It was an easy "yes" from him, obviously. With the status of being the marquess and willing to pay well over your dowery, well, how can your father refuse?

Even though you were expecting it, you still felt hesitant. Your aunt joined you in the sitting room, watching as Lord Montclair, James, as you learned his name was, knelt down and presented his mother's beautiful ring.

"Mon cher, you have made me so incredibly happy these past few weeks. I think we can have an amazing future together. Will you do the honor of marrying me?"

You know you should say yes. But your mind immediately goes to Benedict. Your best friend, your first love, the man you saw yourself marrying and growing old with. But he didn't feel the same. If he did, he would've courted and proposed to you by now.

It was officially time to let go of your silly fantasies and face reality.

"Yes, of course," you reply breathlessly and James slips the ring onto your finger.

Aunt Eliza lets out a breath of relief, "I am so incredibly happy for you two! I plan to hold a ball in your honor at the end of the week, so be prepared for the fan fair that will be headed your way."

James takes your hand and kisses it, "I shall go. I must begin contacting my family so they can be here for the wedding."

"Of course, my Lord."

James smiles at you sweetly, "You may call me James now, mon cher."

You return a sweet smile back, "Of course, James. Then you may call me Y/N."

"I will see you later, future Marchioness Montclair," he gives you a wink and heads out.

You look down at the ring, the diamond sparkling in the sun. Your aunt rushes to your side and kisses your temple, "You did it, dear. You did it. You will be free soon enough."

You gulp and nod at your aunt, "Yes. I will be free."

____________________

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It seems that wedding bells are to be heard soon with now the engagement of Miss Y/N L/N and the Most Honorable Marquess, Lord James Montclair. The marquess had turned many heads since his arrival with Duchess Bridgerton. Many ladies of the Ton had hoped for a courtship from him. However, it was quite the surprise that our very own Miss L/N, one who has previously rejected the idea of marriage, set her sights on the marquess and lured him with her charm.

As I am sure many of you are disappointed by the engagement, I am certain no one is as disappointed as the second eldest Bridgerton son, Benedict Bridgerton. For we all knew those two were always at each other's side. This author thinks that perhaps the second eldest never proposed to Miss L/N because he knew he could never provide for her as a second son.

Nevertheless, I do look forward to see how Miss L/N will take to the role of marchioness. Will she crack under pressure or will it be smooth sailing? This author waits in anticipation.

Benedict crumples up Lady Whistledown's newest edition, tossing it across the room. His family's eyes are all on him.

His heart rate quickens, he feels a sweat coming on. The walls are closing in and he can't breathe. He doesn't like how his family looks at him with pity. They all know now. They know how he feels for you. There is a chance know how he feels for you now. A part of him hopes that you don't believe what Whistledown has to say. Not everything she says is always factual. Nevertheless, it makes the Ton talk.

"Excuse me," he abruptly stands from his place and Anthony stands with him, "Brother-"

"Please, don't. I need a moment alone," Benedict quickly says as he rushes out of the room.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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weeesi · 1 day

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Hero - May Prompts (29)

Molly stoops down and jostles her keyring between Rosie’s little fists. “Hiya, bugs. You like the clanky shinies?”

Rosie responds by yanking the thing down to her play yard, then shoving a key into her mouth.

“Oh! No no baby.” Molly gently pulls the keys away and substitutes a benign-looking duck. “Though you’ve probably had worse, knowing your dad,” she says under her breath. “Not to mention your other one.”

The door to the bedroom is closed. She can hear water running in the loo and the comforting, familiar murmur of their voices. She’d arrived ten minutes early. John’d ushered her into the flat, half-delirious with gratitude and compliments and you’re a hero, Molly and did you eat already because we’ve got you a takeaway, moussaka’s on the table and Rosie’s set for bed but if she has a hankering, there’s porridge cooling on the hob—

Tonight’s their first date. Date-date. And John is somehow unaccountably nervous.

“Lovely, thanks,” she’d said, with a hand on his arm. “But I’m not, John.”

He’d looked at her blankly. She might as well have been speaking Greek.

“Sorry—not a hero, I mean. I’m your friend.”

She supposes she could resent him. He won, in a way, if you want to think of it like that.

She doesn’t. Sherlock was never hers to lose.

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3

#mayprompts2024 #johnlock #ficlet #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock #parentlock

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eclectickss · 2 days

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PGATW Part 10

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x OC (fem!reader)

Series Summary: The Avengers take a vacation to a private island rental off the Atlantic coast! You now have an opportunity to spend time with your new family, especially Wanda and Natasha. Chapter Summary: You go all the way... Warnings: no plot, smut (bottom!reader, switch!Wanda, top!Nat, praise, degradation, use of wanda's magic, a lil mommy kink, choking, oral, fingering, wanda magics/enchants a strap-on (r receives)), a wee fluff Note: this is the last foreseeable PGATW update! I had a few more ideas though so we will see. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 3.5k

Check out my series masterlist for links to the rest of the parts & general warnings. Check out my main masterlist for more works! Tag List: @suki-is-a-queen @yeetus-thyself @xenaizogie

The three of you walked back to the beach house and rinsed your feet off, not a single word being exchanged between anyone. The silence was maddening as the three of you walked up the stairs to the entrance, ignoring the looks from the avengers inside.

You could feel Wanda and Natasha's eyes following your ass as you lead the way up the stairs, putting a little more sway into your hips, careless as to whether the other two women noticed or not.

Faster, detka.

Wanda pushed words into your head, but you kept your pace, finally making it to their room. You didn't know how long you could keep control of yourself though as your heart was racing when your eyes finally made contact with the bed. Your feet somehow manage to carry your body to the foot of the mattress, turning around to sit on the end. When you look up though, you find that Natasha is already climbing on top of you, maneuvering you to the center of the mattress.

Her eyes dragged up every inch of your body, promptly followed by her hand tracing every dent, line and curve. By the time her eyes had finally connected with yours, you already felt like you were melting.

"We can't wait to ravish you, darling." Wanda climbed onto the bed, sitting above your head and playing with your hair. You watched impatiently as Natasha looked up at Wanda.

"More than you know, Talia," the Black Widow added, smirking at her parter and dragging the witch in for a deep kiss. You almost moaned as you watched their lips work together, slow tongues and small noises escaping Wanda. A soft whine left your mouth and the women finally looked down at you, both smirking.

"Aww, look Wanda, our babygirl is needy." Natasha mocked, grabbing your chin and stroking it with her thumb.

"Oh, what do you need, honey?" Wanda leaned over your head to connect with your lips upside down, you finding the new position fascinating.

"I need you two. Fucking me. Now." You groaned. "Please."

"What a good girl." Natasha whispered as she moved back to sit you up. Wanda slid her thighs under your back, swiftly pulling off your shirt before resting your weight on her legs. Nat's hands ran up and down your sides as Wanda's explored your front. Every touch was driving you wild.

"Baby why do you have a swim suit on?" Wanda laughed into your ear.

"Oh-" You nearly choked on a moan. "The outfit instructions titled 'beach clothes' is the least informative piece of information you can give a woman, you know?"

The two avengers giggled as you struggled to steady your breath.

"Well you look absolutely divine," Natasha added, leaning in to kiss the top of your breasts.

"Black suits you so well, Detka." Wanda grabbed your throat gently, squeezing on the sides and drawing sinful sounds out of you. As Natasha explored your exposed chest, you arched into her contact, allowing yourself to loose control.

"No, Talia." Natasha pushed you down, returning your back to the support of Wanda's thighs. She looked at the witch. "Darling, remind me what that word was that our sweet little slut used in that dream of hers?" The Black Widow grinned down at you. "Oh... I remember."

Wanda tilted her head, watching her partner in amusement.

Natasha leaned into your ear as she snaked a cold hand up your front. "Your mommies are in charge now, baby. Try to relax and be a good girl for us." Her teeth found your ear lobe drawing soft whimpers out of you. You felt her smirk against your skin, returning her attention to your chest as she slid one of your swim suit straps down your shoulder.

Wanda's hands worked the other strap down and Natasha watched as the witch shoved both of her palms down your suit and onto your breasts.

"Detka, you feel so good." Wanda leaned over, speaking next to your ear. You moaned as she rolled your nipples between her soft fingers. The sounds coming out of your mouth were cut short by Natasha finally making contact with your lips. She initially caught you off guard, but you quickly eased into the rhythm, allowing her tongue to enter and explore you.

You wanted to reach up to pull her kisses further into you, but Wanda quickly pulled her hands out of your top to pin yours to the bed. "Don't get greedy Talia. Your mommies are being nice to you right now."

That statement made you groan into Natasha's mouth, wanting to be obedient, but also wanting to know what the two of them looked like when you were misbehaving. Perhaps later. Wanda managed to slip her fingertips under your back to pull at the tie, taunting you as she slowly undid the knot.

Natasha helped out by taking the rest of the garment off your body, your bare chest now exposed to the two women. "Oh, honey," Natasha began, staring at your erect nipples. "I'm going to devour you."

Wanda fixed her position under you so that she could access your lips as Natasha latched her own around your delicate nipples, the mouths of both women on you. The witch was softly making out with you, shoving her tongue in-between your teeth, giving way to your small bites and tugs. Natasha swirled her own tongue around one of your nipples as she began to pinch the other. Both women grew addicted to the vibrations coming off of your body as you allowed your quiet moans to consume the room.

Wanda returned one of her hands around your neck, pulling her into you as she shoved her tongue as deep as possible. The witch forced a light choke out of you, sending shocks down to both of your cores. Natasha carried her kisses to the center of your chest, beginning to pull your thin skin between her teeth, leaving a mess of red marks behind. Your eyes were shut tight in ecstasy as her hickeys trailed down to your lower stomach, the Black Widow's hands running up and down your sides as Wanda's found your breasts.

When the witch's mouth left yours, you gasped for air.

"Oh my gods." Your chest heaved. "Fuck i'm- i'm going crazy."

Wanda laughed. "Yeah, detka?" Her fingertips pulled at your nipples.

"Oh, Wands - please." You whimpered.

"What is it, pretty girl? Are our generous touches not enough for you?"

Your eyes rolled into the back of the back of your head as Wanda played dumb. You could feel Natasha pop the button on your shorts, still keeping her kisses on your stomach as she listened to the conversation.

"Fuck- I- you- both of you feel so god damn good." You struggled to form sentences. "But I need something inside of me."

Natasha laughed. "Patience, kotenok. We wanna take our time with you." She ran her hands down your hips. "Wanda, darling, why don't you put those pretty fingers of yours into our slut's little mouth. Keep her busy for a moment."

The witches eyes glazed over as she did what she was told, you welcoming the presence of two slender fingers on your tongue. You roughly sucked, swirling your tongue around her digits while staring into Wanda's piercing green eyes. You could tell Wanda was getting lost as you moaned on her, well aware of how you were effecting her.

"Is our girl being good for you, honey?" Natasha stared at the sight before her.

"Oh, so good." Wanda nearly whispered, refusing to break eye contact with you as she pulled her drenched fingers out of your mouth.

"Perfect. Do you wanna reward her a little?" Natasha asked as she licked your cunt on top of your shorts.

"Fuck." You whispered.

"Hmm," Wanda began. "Maybe she could touch me a little." The witch grabbed your wrist and placed your fingertips under her shirt.

"Please."

Wanda laughed as she began to reposition herself. She replaced her thighs that you had been supported on with a pillow, then proceeded to straddle your chest, careful of the weight she was putting on you. You could no longer see Natasha, but you seemed to not mind as you could feel the Black Widow tease at the hem of your shorts and leave hickeys on your thighs.

Above you, Wanda pulled her top off, exposing the skimpy bralette that was attempting to support her breasts. Before you got the chance to process the sight before you, the witch had also managed to unclasp her bra. You watched as the fabric sagged on her arms, but it wasn't sliding down all the way.

"Go on, Talia."

You immediately reached up to drag the bralette down the rest of the way, heart racing at the sight of her bare chest. You ran your hands all over her thighs and up to her chest, relishing your first touches on her hard nipples. The witch moaned as you began to massage her, chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths.

At the same time, you could feel Natasha slowly work your shorts off of your hips, taking the black swim suit bottoms down with them.

"Oh, baby." Natasha breathed at the sight of your dripping cunt, bending down to blow hot air your pussy, drawing a whine from your throat. "You look divine." She returned to marking up you inner thighs, but you now felt so much more sensitive. Unable to control yourself, a hand flew up to grip Wanda's neck as the other went to pull her waistband, giving a slight base of friction on her pussy.

"Fucking- shit." Wanda gasped. "Talia." Your name escaped her mouth as more of a moan.

You smirked below the witch, breathing heavily and happily. You allowed your fingers on the top of her shorts to lower to her clothed cunt, slowly rubbing her out. The hand on her neck moved to her shoulder, making it easier for you to move her around.

"Oh my gods." Wanda whispered, a hand flying to your own neck to support herself. You grinned taking deep, careful breaths, deciding to tug at Wanda's shorts to see what she would do. The witch's sharp green eyes met yours aggressively as you watched a switch flick in her brain.

Red tendrils swirled around her free hand and she flicked them to the side of the room. You felt the fabric of her shorts leave your chest, the garment flying in the direction of her fingers. You gasped at Wanda's display of power, now able to see the wet spot on her panties.

This caught Natasha's attention as she chuckled into your pussy. "Go on, darling, let her taste you. I want to hear everything."

Wanda's glare didn't leave as she pushed up onto her knees, now hovering her panties over your salivating mouth. With another swift flick, her panties were off, her sweet smell hitting you like a bus.

"Come on, Talia. I know you're curious." She smirked, running her slender fingers through your hair before leaning forward to support herself and sink towards you.

Slowly, you reached your tongue out to her center, holding onto her hips. The moment that her warm cunt reached your mouth though, Natasha also made contact with your pussy. Your mouth quickly sent vibrations into Wanda, who in turn filled the room with her own moans.

Natasha smirked. She had the both of you in control.

"Fuck," Wanda groaned as your tongue swirled in her hot, wet mess. While forming a pattern was difficult while Natasha also sucked on your clit, you managed to explore Wanda's cunt, controlling her movements with your hands on her hips. "Natasha, baby, she feels so good," Wanda groaned.

"Yes she does," The Black Widow moaned into you, swirling her saliva around in torturous circles. She lavished in the sounds that escaped your throat, matching every dip and lick up to a whimper or groan. Your legs fought against the strength of Natahsa's arms and Wanda's thighs as you writhed under the two women, this moment in time sending you to a plane that feels like heaven. Welcomed knots began to form in your stomach as the two women worked their magic.

"May I - pl- please cum?" You managed to squeak out under Wanda's pussy. Natasha paused, dropping your heart off the side of a building.

"Hmm... you can cum once our lovely Wanda does... that'll be a good reward." With that, she immediately returned to eating you out, making you gasp into Wanda. Our Wanda, Natasha had said.

You had to make Wanda cum before Natasha got to you... you had to show the two women how much of a good girl you could be. You focused all of your attention on Wanda, desperate to accomplish your goal. You quickly found a repetition that seemed to encapsulate the woman above you in pleasure, holding on tight to her hips so that you could keep her build in control.

Natasha could tell that you were closing in on the witch, so she decided to challenge you by picking up the pace of her torturous ministrations. You wouldn't give in though, you couldn't. The sounds coming from Wanda were telling you that you were close, so you pushed through. You forced yourself to only focus on the witch... how her swollen folds felt against your tastebuds and hips struggled under your hands. You zoned in on each swipe of your tongue, ensuring that her clit was run over through the abundant saliva and oozing slick.

"Im gonna cum." She groaned breathily. You did it. You made no changes to your ministrations, ensuring that her orgasam hit. Wanda took a deep breath as her release sent a rush of physical power through your body and into Natasha's mouth, causing one more vibrating ripple to coarse through your pussy and add your orgasam to Wanda's.

You were no longer able focus on the precise movements of your mouth as your walls pulsated around Natasha's tongue, the woman below you working off your high while you messily slowed down Wanda's. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," You breathed into Wanda's cunt, trying to steady your body. You and witch took a few more seconds to regulate your racing hearts as Natasha torturously cleaned up your mess.

Eventually, Wanda collapsed to the side of you, allowing the mattress to catch all of her weight.

"Thank you," you managed to croak out. "Thank you mommies. That - that felt so good. You made me feel so good." You whined into the comforter, unaware the two women were staring at each-other as you thanked them.

"Oh, what a good, good girl. Thanking her mommies for her orgasam." Natasha cooed and you turned to stare at her. The Black Widow made sure you were focused on her as she pulled her top off. You eyes the expanses of her stunning skin, having little time to admire her beauty before she also tossed her bra off. Before you knew it, the damp pool had returned to your core.

Natasha abruptly reached for one of your hands, moving it to lay on one of her breasts. Joyously yet cautiously, you began to massage her, watching the eyelids of the woman before you slowly close and open.

"Maybe we should reward her, Wanda?"

You flipped your head to find the witch smirking. "I agree, my love." Her green eyes taunted yours.

"Wonderful," Natasha replied. "Get on your knees, Talia. All fours, honey."

You obeyed immediately, the commands affecting you in ways you could never imagine. You were still a little worn from your first orgasam, but you assumed that feeling wouldn't last too much longer.

You could hear the sound of Natasha loosing her pants, but you couldn't see from your new position on top of the mattress. Wanda tilted your chin up to her, grinning.

"Something you'll come to understand very quickly is that I am not your average partner, Talia." Her accent sent chills down your spine. "I come with perks... like this one." Wanda let go of your chin but made sure that her hand was still in your line of sight. You watched as magic shot out of her hand in the direction of Natasha, but you couldn't see what it was doing.

You looked at the witch in confusion, not feeling anything. She simply smirked, moving her focus to Natasha, as if giving her a signal. All of a sudden, a foreign object pressed up against your ass, drawing a loud gasp out of your throat.

"Now don't be shy, detka. All I've given our Natasha is a little... add-on." Wanda whispered in your ear, entertained as she watched your eyes widen. These women were going to be the death of you. You whined as the witch playfully tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Natasha moved closer to you, now fully rubbing up against your entrance from behind, teasing you as she pleases.

"That's not little," You croaked and Natasha laughed, dragging her hands up and down your back.

"You'll be alright, honey. You can let us know if it's too much, but I don't think you will." She grabbed onto your hips, slowly sliding into you. Soft, sinful sounds escaped your throat, knowing Natasha was right as she filled you up.

"Fucking hell, kotenok, you're so tight for me." She moaned above you as you gasped.

"You- can feel me?"

"Yes darling," Wanda jumped in, crawling up high on the bed so you could see her and she could watch. "Natasha can feel all of you." Wanda smirked.

"Ohmygods." You mumbled as the Black Widow started to slowly pump in and out of your slick, addicted to the way her nails were starting to rake down your lower back and hips. The sensation consumed you, and to add to the heat of the moment, Wanda had now started touching herself in front of you.

"You like what you're seeing, detka?" The witch asked.

"What i'm seeing... what i'm-" You could barely think as Natasha picked up the pace. "What I'm feeling. Ohfuck." You whined watching Wanda's delicate fingers. "Feeling so fucked out and pretty for my mommies."

"You're doing so well, darling," Natasha added, steadying your hips as you began to loose control. "Your pussy feels so warm around my cock... letting me fuck you like this, so needy and numb. Do you think you two will be able to cum with me?"

Natasha's words had an evident effect on you and Wanda, causing you both to give hurried nods. "Go- good girls." Words were beginning to have a harder time escaping her mouth, just as your brain kept getting fuzzier. "Ill just- need a-a few... few more m-moments..."

You could feel yourself on the brink of an orgasam, needing to dedicate all power to holding back. You whimpered as Natasha continued to brutally thrust into you.

The redhead gasped. "Fuck- i'm gonna-"

All of a sudden, Natasha had released into you, sending you over the edge. Wanda watched as the two of you collapsed, allowing her to finish herself off too. The three of you ended up in a sweaty sticky mess, piled on top of each other.

You grinned, happily surrounded by your two favorite people on earth. Wanda reached to hug your body and you reached for Natasha, everyone entangled and satisfied. Despite your sticky skin, you never wanted to let go.

But nothing can last forever. Eventually, Natasha wiggled out of your grasp and stood up on the floor.

"What! No!" You groaned, missing her warmth.

"Oh hush, Talia." She giggled. "I have to use the bathroom and clean up. I'm not running away." She said, waltzing towards the other end of the room, fully aware you and Wanda were watching her ass. "Besides, you two should probably clean up as well."

You turned to face Wanda.

"She's right, you know..." The witch spoke softly, her eyes shinning with amusement.

"But i'm so cozy here..." You looked up to her innocently, flickering your glance in between her eyes and lips. The witch rolled her eyes but couldn't resist as she leaned in to softly capture your mouth, admiring your sweet and sincere kisses.

"C'mon, Talia." She pinched your ass, holding her hand out to you as she stood up. You hesitantly grabbed it, but you immediately realized that you never wanted to let go. The witch dragged you to the bathroom, the two of you joining Natasha in bliss... this was something you could get used to.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel smut #wanda x reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat #gxgxg smut #marvel gxg #lesbian #marvel self insert #wanda x natasha x reader

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delicatebarness · 1 day

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I wish we could get like a blurb of the others watching the two of them interacting. I’m always just dying to know ho the others are seeing this and what they’re thinkin

cry baby | "the safest person she could end up with."

Summary: ^^ Requested.

Warnings: A POV that isn't Cry Baby or Bucky's. & I wrote this in under half an hour so I apologize in advance. And, Steve... stop making it weird.

Word Count:

Series Masterlist

Tags: @winterslove1917 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @thezombieprostitute | @buckys0whore

At their usual booth, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Sam watched the scene unfold at the bar. Bucky’s protective stance loomed over you as he leaned in close, his hand gently resting somewhere on your body that was hidden from the group.

Natasha’s keen eye noticed it all first, nudging Wanda she whispered, “Do you see that?” she tilted her head, gesturing toward the pair of you at the bar. “Buck’s not just being protective; there’s something more happening.”

Following Nat’s gaze, Wanda didn’t seem convinced. “He’s always in protective mode, I think you’re reading into this one too much.”

Steve looked over curiously as he caught part of the girl's conversation. “He’s just looking out for her, he always has done… You know how he is.”

However, across the booth, Sam smirked and shook his head. “Come on, Steve.” he paused to take a sip from the beer bottle he had been nursing. “There’s something more going on… look at him.”

Shrugging, Steve let out a slight nervous chuckle. “Buck’s always been like that, it’s his nature.”

“You two are oblivious,” Natasha sighed, playfully rolling her eyes as she pointed her beer bottle toward Steve and Wanda. “Trust me, there’s something there.”

“Maybe…” Wanda trailed off as she glanced back at you and Bucky. Her head tilted slightly and her eyes narrowed, trying to see what Nat and Sam were seeing. “Maybe they’re just really close friends.”

Leaning back, Sam crossed his arms over his chest with a grin. “Wanda, we’re really close friends… I’ll bet the both of you free drinks for a month that there’s something more there.”

“I’ll take that bet, they’ve been close since we were kids, practically like siblings…” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

Sam and Natasha exchanged a knowing look. “You’re on.” They spoke simultaneously.

Looking back at you and Bucky again, Wanda let a small smile tug at her lips. “Whatever they’ve got, it’s nice to see them both smiling.”

Steve turned back toward you, his expression softening slightly as he watched you smile and laugh with Bucky. A flicker of something crossed his eyes as he continued to observe, a mix of realization and concern. The idea of his best friend and his little sister caused his protective instinct to rise, even though he knew Bucky would only have good intentions.

His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke more to himself than anyone else. “I just don’t want her to get hurt,” his voice tinged with concern.

Natasha caught his words, she reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You know he cares about her, Steve. He’d never do anything to hurt her.”

Nodding in agreement, Sam spoke up. “Yeah, Steve. If anything, he’s most likely the safest person she could end up with.”

Steve sighed, nodding with Sam as his eyes fixed on the two of you at the bar again. “I know. It’s just… she’s gone through the wringer lately. I want her to be happy.”

Wanda’s eyes softened as she watched you and Bucky respond to each other, sharing laughs and gentle touches. “She will be. Look at her.”

As the night wore on, the rest of the group returned to their previous conversation, yet, Steve’s mind lingered on the pair of you. He knew deep down he’d be owing Natasha and Sam them drinks, still… the protective instinct of an older brother, caused him to think cautiously.

#cry baby series #cry baby #cry baby theory time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x sister!reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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auteurdelabre · 3 days

Text

LOSING OUR MINDS TOGETHER CHAPTER 5 soft!Joel x f!reader

Tags: soft!Joel, pining, crushes, fluff, art references.

Pairings: Joel x Reader/ Ellie x Riley / Bill x Frank

A/N: for those of you who like my romances with a little less angst!

Series masterlist here

“Don’t be mad.”

“That’s not a great way to greet me, Frank.”

Frank is giving you a hound-dog look when you arrive at the gallery that week to help him hang pieces for his upcoming exhibition. He often calls you in for times like this, wanting your advice on where to place items, paying you more than you deserve. You know he could do it himself, that he only does it to keep you in enough cash to keep creating.

“I just know your temper,” Frank says as he searches his pocket for his phone. “But a woman came in looking for something to put in her office. Needed something really eye-catching. So I showed her that piece you texted me.”

“What piece?”

“The canvas. The intense one. The one not like your other pieces.”

“Oh that.”

“Yes that,” Frank mocks, leading you into the gallery. “She was interested. More than interested actually.”

You give a hum of a response, helping Frank to hang some of the bigger canvas pieces.

You don’t feel like broaching this subject again. Selling that art piece feels strange. Creating it felt strange, almost like you weren’t in control of yourself when you made it. You don’t really have any desire for that piece to go out into the world.

“I see the AC is working,” you say, motioning to the roof. “Bill did a good job.”

“Uh, yeah,” Frank clears his throat before focusing all his intention on a label next to one of the bigger Mondrian-inspired piece. “You teaching that Ellie girl yet?”

You’ve known him long enough to be aware that this is classic Frank misdirection.

“So how did it go with Bill?”

“How did what go with Bill?”

“Don’t do that,” you say with a gentle shove to his shoulder. “Tell me. How did it go? Fireworks? Did you kiss? Did you tell him you’ve been secretly pining for him for months?”

“No,” Frank frowns. “I was professional and so was he.”

You take a moment to watch the slim man continue to affix the label to the creamy white wall. He doesn’t seem his normally boisterous self. Something didn’t go the way he wanted it to. So you stand there, arms crossed, brow raised. He tries to ignore you for a few minutes, but knows it’s a lost cause.

“I tried to pay him and he wouldn’t take the money.”

“Okay…”

“And then he was just so beautiful and sexy and manly and he knew Hockney and I didn’t know how to ask him out or even if he wanted me to ask him out.”

You’ve never seen Frank ramble like this, all high pitched and nervous as he paces around the painting. Then to your surprise he trips over his own feet, going down like a sack of potatoes. You can’t help but laugh as he rights himself.

“See? I’m a fucking wreck!”

“Just a little,” you say, helping him to stand, brushing the dust from his sleeves. “So what happened next?”

“So then I wanted to be cool and say ‘then lemme treat you to dinner’ but I kept second guessing and freezing and I just kept thinking about what would happen if he wasn’t interested. If I’d read the situation wrong.”

You groan, wanting to shake the man in front of you. You can see so clearly that Bill is into Frank. You want to smash their faces together like two life-sized Ken dolls.

“If you don’t ask him out, I’m gonna do it for you.”

“No you fucking won’t,” Frank says sharply, taking the next canvas from you with a frown. He doesn’t speak to you again until you’re both halfway through hanging, your head cocked as you look at the colorful picture in front of you.

“So? What do I tell her?”

“Huh? Her who?”

“The woman who wants to buy your painting,” Frank says slowly as if English isn’t your native tongue. You wince, unsure of why it feels so weird to sell it. Right now it exists under a sheet of canvas in your studio, not like it’s that sentimental.

“It wasn’t really for sale. Just something dumb I did and wanted to show you. It’s not really my style. . .”

“So have two styles,” Frank shrugs. “One for yourself and one to pay the bills.”

“Van Gogh didn’t have to change his art styles,” you mutter sullenly.

“He also died penniless with one ear.”

You hide a smirk at that. “How much does she want to pay?”

“I told her it was five grand.”

“WHAT?”

Your eyes are like saucers. Even after Frank’s commission that’s a hefty chunk of change. Nothing you’ve ever sold comes close.

“And she didn’t even hesitate,” Frank says with a supercilious grin. “Offered to write the check right then and there. So you tell me Miss van Gogh Jr, you want five grand?”

///

Ellie finds herself feeling strangely nervous for tomorrow’s first lesson. She assumes it’s because you seem cool so far, but what if you’re a shitty teacher? Or what if you’re boring? You seem fun with your weird style and playful attitude. But it could be an act.

She sits on the front porch swing, working on her latest sketch when she hears the faint tick tick tick of a bicycle’s gears heading up the driveway. She glances up to see Riley dropping the bike on the lawn before moving with gazelle-like grace towards her.

Ellie tries to force herself not to take in Riley’s long legs or the way her body movies under her t-shirt.

“Hey Texas,” Riley grins.

“Hey Riley," Ellie replies with a smile. Her heart pounds as the taller girl comes up the porch. Riley unhooks her bright purple biking helmet, dropping it onto the swing.

“Whatcha doin?”

“Sketching,” Ellie says, closing the book quickly. “Practicing since I’m taking art lessons from the neighbor.”

She points at your house and Riley smiles, nodding. “She’s cool for a grown up. Not annoying like the rest of ‘em.”

Ellie nods, agreeing. You’re about the only other person on this block that she actively looks forward to seeing.

Riley collapses onto the porch swing beside Ellie, her dark face shining with sweat.

“Lemme see,” Riley says motioning to the sketchbook still in Ellie’s grasp. Ellie pauses, unsure. She doesn’t really share much of her artwork with anyone besides Joel and you. She doesn’t think she’s very good. It feels too intimate to show off her sketchbook right now, so she clutches it a little closer to her chest, shaking her head.

“Uh, not much in it yet. I’ll show you when I have something good.”

Riley doesn’t fight her, doesn’t even seem upset. She just nods before yawning and stretching.

“You settling in okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Ellie nods. Ellie watches as Riley’s bare leg brushes her own and she wished she wasn’t wearing jeans so she could better feel the warmth of Riley’s touch. Riley is talking but Ellie misses it, distracted by the beautiful dark of Riley’s skin.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you have a bike?”

“No. Mine was stolen right before we moved here.”

“You should get one,” Riley says, pulling a knee to her chest. “Then we can go riding together.”

Ellie nods, her eyes finally moving to Riley’s face. “Yeah, good idea.”

The two of them lapse into an easy silence, rocking back as they watch the lazy neighborhood. David is mowing his lawn, giving them both a wave when he catches their eyes.

“That guy is such a creep,” Riley says with a mock-shudder.

“I haven’t spoken to him yet.”

“Don’t if you can help it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m heading to my volunteer job with the seniors,” Riley says with a dramatic sigh. “Saw you and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Well hi,” Ellie says with a shy smile, watching as Riley pushes herself from the swing and goes to right her bike.

Before Ellie can reply Riley has snapped on her helmet and given a wave. Ellie watches her pedal away, her braids flying out behind her. Ellie feels a strange jump in her stomach, confused at how much she enjoys Riley’s company.

///

That Wednesday you make sure that the studio is the tidiest it’s ever been. With the large canvas sold (and you $4,400 richer) there’s more space to move around. You bring your drawing table to the center, setting two stools opposite one another. Today will be a chance to see what Ellie is drawn to, what she’s already created. Then you’ll get an idea on how to move forward with it.

It’s very early, earlier than you normally are ready to start the day. But you’re excited for lessons with Ellie and amazed that you sold that intense painting of yours. You wonder what about it was so enticing to the buyer.

You walk out your front door, bare feet slapping the path to your mailbox. You glance over at a flash of movement, shielding your eyes from the sun as a tall figure moves towards you at the same time from the yard over.

“Mornin’ neighbor,” Joel offers, his toolbox in one hand, a coffee thermos in the other. He strides toward the truck parked not too far away from your mailboxes.

“Morning,” you greet, faltering slightly when you recall your last interaction with him.

You turn your attention to the mailbox and Joel takes his time gazing at your legs in your shorts, the deep scarlet of your toenails. He has the insane urge to run his palm down your calves, just to feel them sun warmed and soft under his touch.

“You’re up before noon,” Joel teases, placing the toolbox in the back of his truck and grinning at you. “Special occasion or somethin’?”

“Ha ha,” you say drolly, opening your mailbox and finding it empty. “I’ll have you know I’m taking my teaching responsibilities very seriously. I was just making sure everything was ready for Ellie this afternoon.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Big day?” you ask, chin tilting in the direction of his truck.

“Yeah, Tommy and I – he’s my brother – we’re gonna check out some place on Mulvine. Apparently it’s a pretty big job.”

“In this heat? No thanks,” you say with a crooked grin.

Joel thinks your smile makes you look mischievous. He likes the sight of it.

“Gotta pay for those art classes somehow,” Joel hums in amusement.

“Yeah well, thanks to a really nice neighbor I saved some money and get to teach in an air conditioned environment,” you offer feeling shy. “So I guess I owe him a beer sometime.”

Joel feels his pulse tick at that, seeing the way you’re mouth curls to the side almost shyly. You stand on one leg, the other crooked, foot balanced on your calf. You’re still shielding your eyes from the early morning rays, missing your trademark oversized sunglasses.

“I’m sure he’d be agreeable to that,” Joel says softly, desperately wanting to extend the moment despite running late to meet Tommy. It feels like the first time since the two of you met that the conversation is easy and well-received.

“I uh, I looked up that Pygmalia thing,” Joel says, the name getting stuck on his tongue.

“Pygmalion,” you correct gently. You don’t do it with mockery or malice, just like the gentle teacher you always are.

“Yeah, that one. The one you talked to me about.”

The surprise must read on your face because he chuckles and his cheek flashes the hint of a dimple.

“I was wonderin’ if you ever Pygmalion’d yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Like, uh, put yourself in a painting as a character or somethin’,” Joel says wincing at how awkward this is coming out. He’d hoped to sound suave and knowledgeable but he feels like he’s coming off like an illiterate hillbilly.

“No,” you say laughing at his inability to explain himself. You find it strangely endearing to see this broad, tall man looking so overwhelmed just at the topic of art. “I don’t like to do portraits. I used to, but not anymore. Now I like doing sculpture more.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “When I do sculpture it’s like I’m creating something from the ground up. I don’t really know how to…” you trail off, trying to think of how to articulate this. “You build houses, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when you’re doing that starting from the bottom and working out until you’ve got this big beautiful house, that’s how I feel. Like I’ve just created something from the earth.”

Joel is struck dumb by your words, not in some small part at your ability to bring what he does for a living into it. He’d never considered construction and contracting work to be artistic or beautiful – more just a means to an end. But there’s something about the way you weave your words that has him spellbound.

He must be staring too hard for too long because your neck goes pink and you step back, eyes on the ground.

“Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Have fun at work and I’ll see you for that beer sometime.”

With that you twist away, feeling embarrassed at having said something so stupid. Joel watches you leave, feeling that same yearning twisting around his ribs as he watches you enter into your home.

///

Ellie wishes Sarah was with her today. Not just today of course, but especially on days she tries something new. Ellie was all shouts and fists; Sarah was tempered action and cutting words. Between the two of them they were each other’s armor. Sarah was always there to help and make her feel less intimidated, less scared. Now she feels vulnerable as she trudges over to your door, sketchbook under her arm.

You fling the door open before she can even knock and Ellie is relieved at the smile on your face. Over your clothes you’re wearing a yellow smock with ribbon ties that have a lemon pattern printed on them. Your hair is up, out of your face and your feet are bare.

“My favorite student!” you crow, urging her inside. “C’mon in. I’ve got us all set up.”

Ellie follows you through the maze of eclectic furniture and art on the walls. She’s curious to see that your style inside is just as she imagined it – colorful and sort of weird, like you. And like you it’s got a vintage feeling – like something not quite modern. Ellie finds she really likes it.

“So I like to have some music playing on in the background while I’m in the studio,” you explain as you move to the turn table. “Which do you like?”

You motion to the shelf of vinyl records all lined up. Ellie has to stand on her tip-toes to see the titles.

“I know David Bowie,” she offers.

“Good taste,” you muse.

She takes a moment to survey the records a bit long before she reaches for one with sketches of vegetables on it. The Best of Cream. She likes the look of it.

“This one?”

“One of my Granddad’s favorites,” you say with a grin. You nod in approval and Ellie feels secretly pleased. You place it on the turntable, lifting the needle. Ellie watches as you touch it to the spinning record, the crackling sound of contact comforting.

The music flows from the record, guitar and drums and a man’s sultry voice singing about the sunshine of your love. You give a hip shake, shoulders rolling as you attempt to take Ellie’s hand in yours in dance. You’re surprised when at the contact she jerks her hand back as if she’s been burnt, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” you say with your hands raised.

Ellie feels her face flush, her body breaking into a cold sweat under her layers of clothing. The sound of I’ve been waiting so long dances through the air as the two of you stand there. You’re still, unmoving, waiting for her to say something.

“I just. . . “ Ellie looks anxiously at you, faltering. “I just don’t like to be touched.”

“That’s totally fine,” you insist. “I should’ve asked.”

Ellie waits for you to make a big deal of this. She waits for the prying questions and prodding but none come. Instead you’re giving her a warm smile and tilting your head to follow you.

“C’mon, let’s get started.”

Ellie seats herself at the drafting table in the center of the room with its two stools. For the next half hour you take her through a quick overview on what you’re hoping to teach her; still life, landscapes, watercolor, oil painting, sculpture and more. You also encourage Ellie to tell you anything she wants to learn in particular.

“I always thought it would be cool to make a comic book,” she offers, sipping on her sweet tea refill.

“Oh that sounds fun!” you make a note of that in your sketchbook. “I see you brough a sketchbook with you. Mind if I take a look?”

“They’re not very good,” Ellie says shyly. She’s seen the work you have hanging around the studio. It seems like you’re good at every medium.

“I just sold a piece recently that wasn’t one I didn’t think was very good,” you tell her honestly. “I think sometimes we don’t know the impact our imperfect work makes on other people. Plus if you were perfect then we wouldn’t be doing lessons, so hand it over, kid.”

You hold out your hand, fingers curling. Ellie smirks up at you before shoving the book into your waiting grasp. You open it up, looking through the variety of sketches. While her technique may be adequate you’re very impressed. There’s major talent here, just waiting to be nurtured.

“Is this Joel?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nods. “He naps on the couch and that’s the best time to draw him. He hates sitting for me.”

You smile briefly, turning the page to a beautiful teenage girl with a shock of hair and large luminous eyes.

“Who’s this?”

“Sarah,” Ellie says, looking wounded as she stares down at the drawing. You want to ask for more details but Ellie is flipping to the next page, showing you a horse from a farm.

“That’s from Uncle Tommy’s place last summer,” she explains. “He has a farm up here. His wife runs it.”

“Cool,” you say impressed. “I love animals.”

“Me too.”

For the rest of the lesson you bring out sheets of paper and graphite. You teach her proportions and she grasps it all so easily. You teach her smudging techniques and highlights and the direction of light. When three o’clock chimes in the grandfather clock out in the hallway you’re shocked.

“Damn that went by fast.”

“It really did,” Ellie says, looking up at you from her latest work. It’s a sketch of that same horse, the proportions coming along much better now.

“You know when I look at this art I can see the feeling behind it,” you tell her. “I can see the love you have for animals.”

Ellie listens, nodding. You see the graphite on the end of her nose and hold yourself back from rubbing it off.

“Art is kind of magic that way. Plus, it’s like therapy when feelings get too big. You ever have that, El? Where the feelings are so big words aren’t enough?”

Ellie thinks of Riley and the twist she’s had in her stomach since they met.

“Yeah.”

“When you feel big feelings its best to get it out on the page,” you tell her as you begin to set up the canvas. “So your homework this week is to take any big feelings and put ‘em to paper. I don’t care if it’s sketching, painting, collage. You do what works and then if you don’t mind, I’d like to see it next lesson.”

Ellie beams. “Yeah, okay, awesome.”

///

Frank goes over the books a few days later, his mouth curled to one side in concentration. It’s been a very profitable month for the gallery. You dropped off that big canvas earlier in the week and it’s like nothing you’ve ever done. He hopes you’ll make more.

But he’s been so busy he hasn’t had time to go to the coffee shop which means he hasn’t been able to see Bill since the day he came in to help with the AC. Frank is convinced he can still smell Bill’s shampoo in the air some days, even though it’s impossible.

Frank is so focused he doesn’t even notice the hulking figure in front of him until he clears his throat. Frank glances up from his computer to see Bill standing there, his shirt tucked into his jeans and his large hand holding a to-go coffee cup from Frank’s favorite coffee shop.

“Bill,” Frank’s voice is a cracked choke. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Haven’t seen you around the coffee shop lately,” Billy replies. Frank watches as the man places the coffee cup in front of him. “Thought you might be avoiding me.”

“What?” Frank’s eyes are saucers. “F- no, no of course not. I’ve just been so busy this month.”

“Ah, okay.”

Frank feels a flush start on his cheekbones. He takes the coffee into his hands, praying they don’t shake. Bill brought him coffee? What does this mean? The two man stand in awkward silence together.

“Your friend was at the coffee shop today,” Bill announces out of nowhere, his voice almost tentative.

“Which friend?”

“The loud one you’re usually with.”

You.

Frank holds in a groan, terrified to know what’s going to happen next. Either Bill is going to be horrified and think Frank sent you over there to scout things out or he’s going to be a very straight man who’s deeply offended.

“I don’t know what she said, but I apolog-“

“She said you wanted to ask me out to dinner the last time I was here.”

Silence. Frank feels his face turning beet red the longer that it stretches on.

He’s going to fucking kill you.

It’s not like over the phone where he could just hang up and then avoid his favorite coffee shop. Bill is standing there, big and broad and his eyes so beautiful waiting for an answer. There’s only one choice; total honesty.

“Uh. Yeah. I-I did. As a thank you for all you did.”

Bill blinks slowly, his light eyes trailing over Frank’s face for a full moment.

“So you just wanna take me to dinner ‘cuz of the repairs.”

His voice sounds even, almost resigned like he was expecting that. Frank knows this is his last chance. He could pretend like it was just that – just a kind offer of friendship, a thank you for his repair work.

But he doesn’t want that. He wants more.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Bill seems to be gauging something before his brows rise and fall.

“Huh.”

Frank feels a strange curl of his lip begin, amused at the man’s monosyllabic yet thought-heavy response. He doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t seem disgusted. But he doesn’t seem over the moon either. It makes Frank lick his lips nervously.

“So you wanna go out then?”

“Pardon?”

“Wanna go on a date? Dinner?” Now it’s Bill’s turn to look rosy in the face. His eyes are on the desk Frank stands behind. “If you want, I mean. Maybe you changed your-“

“No.”

Bill’s face goes slack. “No. Right, of course. Forget I asked.”

He goes to turn but Frank throws himself over the desk, a heavy hand on Bill’s shoulder before the man can walk away.

“No! I mean, like, yes! As in no, I didn’t change my mind, so yes I want to go on a date with you.”

Frank winces as he hears his frantic voice echo in the gallery. He sounds and looks insane. He removes his fist from where it clutches at Bill’s shoulder and feels immense relief when Bill turns back, his light eyes filled with quiet mirth.

“You always this articulate?”

He steps towards Frank, allowing the taller man to slide back onto the other side of the desk, cheeks burning fiercely. Despite everything Frank laughs, a real genuine laugh that has his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’m normally better, I swear.”

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself on Saturday night.”

It hangs there between them, like a melody. Frank feels his mouth curve into an even wider grin, his heart hammering in the best possible way. He feels electric, like every neuron in his body is shooting off fireworks.

“Pick me up here at eight.”

“How about six? I’m an old man that works early the next day.”

“Let’s compromise and say seven.”

“Seven works.”

“Alright then.”

Bill takes one last look at Frank before touching his fingers to his forehead, giving a gentle mock-salute. Frank watches him lumber to the front of the gallery, heading out. He gives one last wave to Frank as he exits, a smile on his face as he walks by the window and down the street.

Frank collapses into the stool next to him, his body weak with excitement. When the excited tremors abate he tugs the cellphone from his pocket, quickly composing a message to you.

[1:04pm] You fucking bitch. I love you.

///

Ellie is trying to think of a big feeling to channel into her art that weekend when she hears her name being called. Riley is striding up the walk, a smile on her face. She’s wearing shorts and a neon crop top that reads sunshine, fireflies, summer in looping script.

“Hey Riley.”

“Hey Lee.”

“Lee?” Ellie wrinkles her nose at this.

“Ellie. Lee. Get it?” Riley balances against the porch railing smiling at her. “I figured since you don’t have a Texas accent I needed to give you a better nickname.”

Ellie grins. “Got it.”

Ellie catches herself staring at the girl and tears her eyes away, looking at the scuff of her sneakers instead.

“So hot out today.”

“Yeah,” Ellie concedes. It is warm out today, in a sticky, oppressive way.

“You wanna go swimming with me?”

Ellie immediately feels her body tighten. She glances at her long sleeves and thinks about the murky waves. She shakes her head, swallowing.

“Nah.”

Riley seems to take this personally because she starts backing up.

“No worries. Maybe next time."

Ellie realizes her faux pas too late. Riley has taken Ellie’s shyness for rudeness. She should have told Riley the truth; that she can’t swim. That she doesn’t want her body exposed. But the taller girl is already striding down the driveway on her long legs.

Don’t leave. I want to keep talking to you.

“Bye Riley,” Ellie finally manages to croak out.

“See ya, Lee.”

Riley casts a polite smile over her shoulder, her smile gone before Ellie watches her jog off in the direction of her home. Ellie watches the girl leave, feeling a crushing disappointment somewhere beneath her ribs. She fumes silently before pushing into her house, slamming the door behind her.

“Woah, what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” Ellie replies sullenly. Joel goes to ask more but she’s already padding over to the couch, her sketchbook tightly held in her grip.

You said to draw in moments like this. To make her feelings come out on the page.

“Tough day,” Joel comments.

“Nah. Just… nothing,” Ellie finishes, not raising her eyes. Joel watches his daughter draw furiously, knowing better than to invade her space. His eyes lift to your window, surprised to see you in the studio tiding it up. He drags his eyes away, feeling like a creep staring at you.

“Making sandwiches, you want one?”

Ellie gives a grunt of response, her eyes fixed on the sketchbook. Joel whips them both up a turkey on rye and plops some chips onto a plate, bringing it over to Ellie who takes it gratefully with a quick thank you. Joel plops into the easy chair on the other side of the room, crunching on some chips as Ellie digs into her lunch.

“Haven’t seen you drawin’ like that in a while,” Joel comments.

“Neighbor told me to draw when my feelings feel big.”

“Good advice,” Joel nods. He watches Ellie’s eyes go distant and he wishes he could know what she’s thinking. “She a good teacher then?”

“Yeah, I like her.”

“Good.”

Joel is pleased to hear this. Happy to know his daughter is being taken care of, that she’s happy. After so much misery he hopes that she can be as happy as possible with him.

“She said you were hot,” Ellie comments around her sandwich out of nowhere. “Told me when we were driving the other day.”

Joel tries to hide the pleased smile behind his sandwich, but Ellie sees it all the same

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