#my parents went on the roof to watch it

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

Cw/forest fires

[ybklix]

you can be the boss

★ pairing: softdom!chrisbang x virginfem!reader

☆summary: A rich hot older man, a slightly horny young woman, together in a hot summer in his house near the coastal zone. When you meet Chris, your step-aunt's new boyfriend, your world changes completely, and after a night of liquor and cigarettes, there's no going back to satisfy all your fantasies, you don't even care you're inexperienced.

✧ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, cheating, implied legal age gap, daddy kink, use of petnames, masturbation, corruption kink, fingering, clit play, oral sex, deepthroat, faceriding, cunnilingus, cumplay, chocking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, mention of chris as a smoker.

word count: 9.5k

masterlist - taglist ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

a/n: lana del rey literally invented the 4th of july, she’s so iconic, so proud of my CUNTry led by my president miss grant🫡❤️

divider by chachachannah

The bright sunshine, the light sweat pouring from your forehead despite being inside your father's cool car made you feel young again, something in the air was so innocent and sweet that bright summer. Especially when he insisted you spend the summer with his wife's family, as if you were a little girl, you agreed, you had a very tedious and frustrating semester in college that you needed a distraction, plus a huge house with a yard, pool and near the beach didn't sound bad at all. You'd be doing nothing but sunbathing in your bathing suit, relaxing.

You walked onto the grounds of the house, it really was a mansion, the architecture was modern but there were some classic touches that for some reason got you. You were surprised, thinking that your 'aunt' really did get a rich man this time. Your father remarried when you were 17, to a woman 7 years younger than him who couldn't have children, so she always opened you up to her family, treating you sweetly, going to your high school graduation, and supporting you in your college career, so you met your stepmother's family, who had two sisters —she was the middle one— the oldest, Lilian, who had a daughter your age and you became close, however, you lived apart from each other; your stepmother Dahlia, and the youngest, Ruby, who was the prettiest of the three, was young, glamorous and kind; you weren't sure, but you thought she was at least twenty-nine or thirty and, that she got herself a rich boyfriend who kindly offered his summer home to her whole family.

Liv, Lilian's daughter greeted you as soon as you got out of the car, you felt small, like a young girl still close to your parents when you spent more time at college than with them for years. Liv hugged you briefly, making your sunglasses slip off and fall into your eyes, you both moved where the sun didn't hit you directly and greeted each other shyly.

“No shit, I have no idea where Aunt Ruby got her boyfriend from, but a house with a pool in this weather, is a house with a pool, I don't care” Liv spoke.

You let out a chuckle, you watched as Ruby came out of the doorway, and you walked over to greet her, after all somehow Dahlia always went out of her way to make you consider her as family, and she received your brief hug.

“Oh wow, you grew up a lot along with Liv, I haven't seen you since Christmas” she commented to which you smiled.

After that Ruby went over to her sister, you helped by carrying your luggage and walked into the house, it seemed unreal that you were going to be under someone stranger's roof, but at least you wouldn't be alone, Liv could distract you a bit.

“Girl, wait till you meet Ruby's boyfriend, he's kinda hot, not gonna lie” Liv whispered in your ear, helping you with your stuff and guiding you to the room you both would share.

Once inside the room you jokingly said to her, “So it's not about an old sugar daddy she found around?”

Liv pursed her lips and softly denied, “He's handsome, young, rich and has an accent. I think this summer will be fun… want to meet him?”

You nodded amused, curiosity consumed you; you and Liv spent hours talking behind Ruby's back about the strange and extravagant kind of life she led, it was a fun topic of conversation for you, you analyzed every partner she had, since she didn't know how to be alone, and just had girl talk, secreting and gossiping a little.

“Oh, honey, the cherry pie” your father reminded you once he saw you coming down the stairs.

You sighed, remembering that you had baked Ruby your cherry pie which she loved so much, just because, out of a mere act of kindness, and because your dad reminded you how much she was a fan of that dessert of yours and that you should at least give it to her as a thank you for spending the summer at her house, or her boyfriend's, rather.

You took the tart out of the car, Liv waited for you at the entrance of the house and then led you to the kitchen, where a very smiling and happy Ruby received your gift, thanking you and reminding you how delicious it should be. Liv was about to ask about Chris, Ruby's boyfriend and owner of the place, just so you could meet him and analyze him with your own eyes, but Ruby herself stepped forward saying:

“Oh, you haven't met Chris, have you? I think he's outside getting the pool ready better for you girls to swim in. I'll go get him.”

Liv raised her eyebrows and looked at you a little amused, again you felt small, giving funny looks to your cousin-friend; you had been so consumed by college that you had forgotten the simplicity of the little things. Ruby didn't take long, your father and stepmother already met Chris, as apparently he had been dating Ruby for a while and was quite serious, and once again, you lived in your college dorm and institution almost.

And the man appeared, you really didn't expect to see a man like him, with a downwards smile, a bit shy, but his presence was quite strong in the room; he was wearing a white t-shirt loose to his muscular body with the name and logo of a luxury brand, denim jeans up to his knees and sneakers. He looked young, and he was cute, and so attractive to your taste, but you wanted to instantly brush the thoughts away.

“Chris Bang, nice to meet you” he greeted, in a thick voice and a soft accent, just as your cousin had mentioned.

You returned his greeting, introducing yourself, Chris also didn't expect to meet two young and beautiful girls like Ruby's nieces, but you, there was something that caught his attention in you, it was rare, but you radiated innocence plus however your strong and piercing gaze contrasted with the rest of your tender appearance. You couldn't help but darken your gaze, you liked what you saw, he was attractive, he had a unique and clean face that you could watch for hours, the harmony of his face with his sharp, dark, small eyes, combining perfectly with his distinct nose and rosy lips, his slightly pale skin detonating small pink and tan undertones, you realized that never in your little more than twenty years of life had you ever paid so much attention to a man. You didn't understand what it was about him, besides being incredibly attractive, but something drew you to him.

“Thank you for letting us stay at your place…” you said, almost lost in him, you didn't know why you said it, maybe you just wanted to talk to him more.

“Oh, it's nothing, really.”

Chris licked his lips, staring at you, going over in his mind that if it was you the girl who wasn't directly blood related to Ruby.

“Oh, babe, Y/N brought us her cherry pie” Ruby spoke, clinging to her boyfriend's arm.

Liv held back her laughter at her aunt's immature attitude. Chris looked over to the counter.

“Did you bake it?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, Ruby… Ruby really likes it.”

Chris leaned into the counter, leaning on his elbows and with his long fingers lightly played with the edge of the pie plate, you focused on his hands, so manly, big, slender and with visible veins running up his arms; then you returned your gaze to him who said, in a different tone, slower and looking deeply and directly into your eyes,

“I bet it tastes delicious.”

A shiver went down your spine, oh, you were liking it too much. Your cousin raised her eyebrows at his sudden action, instantly recognizing his gentle flirtation.

“Anyway, pool's ready” Chris added, standing up straight.

“Thanks, Chris, we'll go swimming now” Liv mentioned, trying to break the incredible tension or magnetism she suddenly felt between you and her aunt's boyfriend.

Liv grabbed your arm and almost dragged you into your room, pulling you out of your trance, you could only think about who he was and…. how was it that Ruby got him, even though you knew perfectly well that she was beautiful and had a bubbly personality; you thought about his hands, and his subtle comment that made your hair stand on end.

“C'mon babe, let's go swimming,” Liv told you, teasing her aunt for calling Chris 'babe.'

You blinked suddenly…. trying to get it out of your head and reacted, quickly grabbing your suitcase and pulling out your clothes almost in desperation, finding the most revealing swimsuit you packed, a red two-piece bikini; the rest of your swimsuits weren't cute, you were so indisposed with the idea of wearing something hot, since you thought it would just be you and Liv in the pool, so you packed shorts and old t-shirts to get wet and, clearly you were also expecting a middle-aged man not at all attractive to your taste, not a damn man like Chris.

You sighed, thinking you had to go into town to buy better swimsuits. And after you put on your bikini, you perused your makeup, you perfected it more, using your best waterproof mascara, blush, pink gloss, you didn't know what you were doing but you wanted to look good. You almost forgot Liv was there, you didn't give a shit how obvious you acted, primping with effort. Chris had awakened something in you that you hadn't sensed before, it was as if he suddenly gave meaning and fun to your monotonous college life, you suddenly felt like a complete attention whore, wanting his eyes on you all the time.

Your cousin also wore a cute blue plaid print bikini, had two braids done and grabbed her sunglasses, reminding you to take yours, replacing the ones you had when you arrived, with red heart-shaped sunglasses. You sighed as you looked at Liv, she had very nice round breasts, and you thought, how funny and in a way, dirty, the way you two would walk around, being walking temptations to an unknown man.

“Would it be too much to ask Chris to put sunscreen on our backs?” she commented jokingly with a pout and with the bottle of sunscreen in her hand, to which you laughed.

And you both left, grabbing towels, your cell phones, heading towards the backyard at the pool. You took the time to admire the scenery and noticed that a few miles from the large pool was a small pool house. Once again, unable to believe you were in the home of a millionaire and unknown man, about to swim in his pool, it was so unreal, like something that only happened in the movies.

Chris bit his lip as he watched them both, replaying in his mind fuck, over and over again, it was the perfect fantasy, two pretty young twenty-something girls in bikinis at his house, about to enter the pool, getting their young bodies wet. He wasn't being the strongest soldier, and an immensity of dirty thoughts filled him completely. He took one more puff on his cigarette, this time deeper and more intense, trying to keep himself occupied and de-stressed by the incredible desire he had to fuck them both; thinking that it would be a very long and frustrating summer, and that he would end up finishing a pack in minutes if he decided to use nicotine as an escape from his dirty thoughts.

Did he love Ruby? Of course, more than anything in the world, but he was also a man with such an active libido, incredible imagination and great sexual energy. You both noticed him, on the other side of the pool, a little far away, and for some reason you found him more attractive when you saw him smoking. Chris' intention wasn't to see you, he swore, he was just hiding from his girlfriend because she hates his smoking habit. And after meeting you, damn, he really needed a cigarette.

“Hey Chris” Liv greeted him cheerfully waving her hand, to which he responded with a soft smile, raising his eyebrows and his right hand with which he held the cigarette.

She turned to you, “I hate him so much, if he marries Ruby he'll really be my uncle and it'll be gross.”

You smiled apologetically at her sudden comments, but suddenly your mind short circuited, “Marry?”

Liv sat down in one of the chairs, leaning back and relaxing her body, picking up her book ready to rest and read.

“Mmm, honestly I give them two months tops” she added disinterested, “I haven't been aware since I also live in college, but apparently they've been dating since January, I also got a big surprise today when I met him.”

January, you thought, that made them in a six month relationship, pretty long for Ruby. You questioned whether it was really a serious relationship. You pouted and sat on the chair next to her, and convinced yourself that if nothing happened, which was most ideal and the most likely option —plus you were still a virgin— you could at least think about him and have your little summer crush to keep your mind busy.

“Aren't you going to get in the pool?” you asked.

“Mmm yeah, sure, but I want to get some sun.”

You let out an incredulous airy chuckle as Liv was in the shade, not getting any direct sun. And you were about to stand up and swim, but you noticed the sudden and noticeable presence of Chris near you, this time his intentions were clear and not at all innocent, he just wanted to see your semi naked bodies more closely and in detail. He stood in the middle of the two chairs, with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, you watched him, gently lowering your heart shaped sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and raising your eyes.

“Enjoying your summer girls?” he said to which you and Liv nodded a little confused by his sudden closeness, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Liv smiled playfully, closing her book completely, “Of course not” she replied.

But Chris was only looking at you, and you felt it, you had achieved your goal, he couldn't take his eyes off you, off your body in that red bikini and your glossy, full lips. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer from you, which his gaze suddenly made you nervous.

“Sure, join us” was all you could say with your heart pounding.

“I'll be right back” he replied, walking away from you and into his house.

You and Liv looked at each other complicitly, almost feeling like you were about to do something wrong but it felt so right. You didn't understand how you went from somewhat flirtatious and confused, to feeling nervous around him.

“Oh, he's such a fucking whore” Liv added.

She didn't take Chris and Ruby's relationship very seriously, truly. But you were beginning to question so many things, but you couldn't help but want him so badly, you've never been so curious about a man, you wanted him, you needed him.

Minutes later, he appeared, wearing black sport shorts a little loose on his thighs, but tight enough for his member to be suggestively visible and noticeable, again, that was not Chris's intention, he couldn't help but have a nice penis, and that you two had to witness that. In a way you were thankful that you were wearing dark sunglasses and could blatantly see his silhouette, his strong arms and worked chest area over his tight white sleeveless shirt.

You were already in the pool, so Chris joined you, putting on a black cap before getting in and gradually getting in, wetting his body little by little.

“Agh, the water is nice” he added, getting his body completely wet, his marked abs and pecs showing through the thin fabric of the shirt.

Your heart raced again, you couldn't believe Ruby had him every day while you and Liv only had hair loss from the stress of your college. You and Liv stood transfixed watching him, as if it was such an entertaining spectacle. And when he approached, you both snapped out of your trance and pretended to look away, which Chris noticed and smirked, yes he knew he was all handsome and hot, but he was curious to know if you two also considered yourselves that way to such a degree that you dared to flirt with him.

And you began to play mindlessly, ball games, Liv getting on a float, swimming, all with Chris's nerve to watch your wet young bodies, watching the sun beat down on your skins; then you wanted to mimic Liv, getting on a float but found it difficult to get on somehow, to which Chris quickly took advantage, once again leaving Liv surprised.

“Let me help you” he whispered to you, holding your exposed waist to carry you up and onto the float.

Your breathing and heart stopped for a moment, his big hands on your waist felt so good, you couldn't believe he dared to touch you, you didn't want to make it a big deal, you wanted to believe he just did it out of kindness but you were screaming with excitement internally.

A little awkwardly, giving him the view of your ass and thighs, you were able to climb on, shyly whispering thank you. Chris swallowed nervously, your semi-naked skin made him feel good and your ankle accidentally brushed against his member as he lifted you up. He needed another cigarette to forget about you for a few moments, or he definitely had to try you. It wasn't news that, he before Ruby, was quite the gentleman who loved to enjoy the pleasures of sex with different women.

“And don't you have a farm sort of place to spend the winter when it snows?” suddenly blurted out Liv.

“Do you want to spend the winter with me too? Do you like me that much?” he joked.

“Sure, you're the best, Uncle Chris” your cousin replied again in amusement.

He grimaced in disgust, he loved it when girls called him daddy in bed, or just as a form of endearment, when he rarely messed with women relatively much younger to him, but uncle, coming from another young woman who he considered highly attractive, didn't like the idea.

“Uh no, just Chris, please,” and then he turned to you, “And you, you're not directly related to Ruby, are you?”

“She's family, but not by blood” replied Liv innocently, but Chris was a little annoyed, as he wanted to hear you talk , so he still didn't take his expectant gaze off you.

“My father married Ruby's sister” you replied, almost just to humor him and get him to take off that expression of waiting to hear you speak because it was making you nervous.

“I know” he whispered.

And before long you knew a little more about him, that he is an architect with his own company, his parents are two of the top lawyers, that he knows three languages and has a passion for technology like computers or things like that and, the question that gnawed at them both and Liv asked, how did he meet Ruby, as he seemed quite busy and an extremely wealthy and decent man, but just at the mention of her, she appeared. She had taken a nap and suddenly wondered where her boyfriend was, to which her surprise, he was friendly talking to her two young nieces inside the pool, while they were wearing a bikini, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous, but decided to put it aside, and wanted to be a cool aunt:

“Let's give the girls some drinks, they're old enough.”

Chris thought how old enough, looking appreciatively at your body on the float, wearing your red bikini and your heart-shaped glasses of the same color. How old enough were you, that you could handle being with him? He wanted to know more about you and questioned himself why he had never met you before, although his answer was obvious to him, usually Chris didn't look for young and college girls, it was very strange the occasion when he decided to sleep with them and spoil them —as it is one of his techniques— he still considered them so young and naive, even a little bit kooky and spoiled… but you, he bit his lip again, thinking that he could very well be your daddy, and that he would love to spoil you and spank your young ass. He loved being dominant but it was very strange the situation where his mind formulated these ideas of wanting to take care of a naive woman and give her everything, being slightly careful, and you had exactly aroused those thoughts in him.

Ruby also got into the pool, showing off her impressive figure, leaving Chris a little shocked, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. You looked away, unwilling to see them together.

[…]

For the rest of the evening you caught up on Liv's life, as she recounted her sexual encounters, her love life status, her college environment until it was time for dinner.

You couldn't help but think that it didn't matter if you flirted, if anything happened, you wouldn't know what to do and probably wouldn't satisfy him, you were inexperienced and a virgin, which you never made a big deal about it, but for some reason you thought about so many sexual things lately since he awakened your desire.

Dinner was normal and a little strange, eating all together, your last family dinner was maybe on your birthday. And Chris realized that your father and he were the only men, so he thought at one point to invite one of his closest friends, plus he needed him, the tension between you and Chris was growing, or at least his desire for you.

The next morning you went downstairs for breakfast, not even hungry, but you just wanted to see Chris, but he wasn't there since he was supposedly still working and you didn't see him until the afternoon. You took the opportunity to update your swimsuits and take a walk to the beach with Liv. Chris was also confused not to find you at his house, until he saw you arrive with shopping bags.

That evening he convinced his close friend Minho to stay with him too for the summer as Chris had to confess to him the reason and Minho saw with his own eyes and understood why.

Once again you wanted Chris' attention and you had no choice but to go out dressed up all the time, feeling cute, since you kind of sucked at flirting. And you got the pleasant surprise of finding another handsome man next to him.

Chris introduced Minho to you and Liv, and your mind flew with the crazy idea of a man for each other, that maybe so at least Liv would stop thinking about Chris a little bit, because honestly you wanted him for yourself only, when he was already taken, and wasn't yours in the first place. But you weren't the only one with that crazy thought, Liv was so happy that Chris got her own handsome older man to have fun with in the summer.

Minho was also so handsome, he had a muscular body too but his features were softer to Chris'. He also looked intimidating.

The next day was odder, Liv and Minho disappeared, leaving you in disbelief with the ease of things that circumstances work, when both are single, or at least you wanted to believe that Minho was single, or honestly you could care less, at least Liv didn't know his life that much, let alone if he was in a relationship with someone so the guilt didn't exist in her body; but in yours it did, Chris was Ruby's and you couldn't even hate her, your stepmother's whole family was so sweet to you, Dahlia thought you were a real daughter to her because she could never conceive and was afraid to adopt.

You were bored without Liv, you sent her messages but she didn't answer, she must be having a great day in Minho's arms, but lucky her, you thought between sighs; so bored you started to explore the house a bit until you reached a long hallway, at the end of it you saw that there was a family photograph which caught your attention, there were not so many memories of family photos of Chris so it caught your attention and you approached it, next to it there was a large room, which had the door open and you stopped in your tracks when you realized that it was Chris' office, and that he was sitting behind his desk, who quickly heard your footsteps and turned to see you.

You didn't know what to do and smiled nervously at him and he amusedly thought that all ways always led you to him. Chris quickly stood up from his chair, put his pencil aside as he was working on a project and walked dangerously close to you.

“You were looking for me?”

His flirtatious tone and the way he gently raised his eyebrow gave you chills again.

You denied, but you didn't want to get away from him.

“But I found you” you replied.

He invited you in with his gaze, closing the door once you entered, you looked around the place and Chris looked boldly at you. Your young, bare legs with your tiny skirt and your slightly carefree look as you were comfortable in his home.

Chris without thinking, went to his desk and out of habit took a cigarette, he couldn't help it, he was a recurrent smoker, not an addict, but he liked to smoke one or two cigarettes a day, or two cigarettes one day and then quit for several days without a problem, but just now he couldn't think about anything but enjoying your company, your presence and aroma combined with a little of his nicotine.

You thought that even though he smoked and you didn't like the smell, on him, he looked good and you liked him, you liked him so much that you forgot your little inconveniences and thought he didn't smell of cigarettes, he had a strong scent of a manly perfume that you found highly pleasing.

Chris put his cig between his lips and you saw him take another one, thinking he was going to offer you one but you noticed he took a pen and with his big hands, which drove you crazy and you had recurring thoughts of his fingers in your mouth, you saw he wrote a series of numbers on the cigarette; he took a lighter and lit his cigarette quickly, taking his first puff, sucking air between his teeth and then holding the cigarette delicately between his two fingers, then passing you the cigarette with the written numbers and saying to you:

“Do you want it?”

You took it, only to see the numbers on what you quickly noticed was a phone number and before he took the lighter once more you said, “I don't smoke.”

“Well, that's my phone number, since apparently it looks a little bad for us to be together and we need to be more discreet.”

Your mind stopped processing what he said, he inhaled again from the cigarette, exhaling all the smoke, losing it in the bright sunlight coming through the windows, he looked so fucking hot your legs were almost starting to shake, he walked over to you and put his free hand on your waist.

“Let's have fun this summer, I know you want me and I can't get you out of my fucking head” he spoke and you felt it unreal, for a moment you stopped thinking about everyone, it was just Chris and you, fuck the rest, “Relax a little with me, I don't bite unless you ask me to” he whispered, leaning into your ear, noticing your tense body.

He pulled away, stubbing out his cigarette in his ashtray and sitting back in his chair.

“Come here” he ordered patting his thigh.

He was wearing a white button up shirt and black formal cloth pants, you were so wet at his appearance, you were wet knowing he was older than you and dressed elegantly, you were wet at the way he asked you to sit on his lap.

Chris couldn't take it anymore, from the first night he met you, after seeing you so provocative in your bikini, he masturbated thinking about you, pulling and stroking his cock hard, filling his mind with scenarios where you were all needy, wet, making a mess and begging for him, until he cummed. He couldn't even fuck his girlfriend, his cock only reacted to you apparently. He needed you, all day he thought about how his friend did get to fuck the other girl with no problem while he was stuck there, but not anymore as you happily sat on his lap, feeling so happy, feeling the friction of fabric of his pants on your thighs as you moved to get comfortable, causing him tenderness at your reaction.

“Mmm, I guess you want it too by obey me, don't you babygirl?” he murmured, caressing your thighs and making you shiver.

Your mind spun like crazy, wanting what what, you didn't know but yes, you needed him like you had never needed anyone, your mind was lost in his closeness and that it's finally happening. You really tried to be strong too, but you lost it. He was caressing you, bringing his hands up tentatively so high almost in your intimate zone.

“Yes…” you answered in a whisper.

“Then just kiss me, babygirl, I'm dying to taste your lips since the first moment I saw you.”

You turned your face and met the closeness of his, without thinking too much, you joined your lips with his, feeling his slight cigarette taste together with a soft and fresh sensation, your hand shyly rested from his shoulder, your inside was burning, you felt as if fireworks were detaching inside you. At first it was sweet and gentle, but then he changed his pace to something slower but desperate and lustful, opening your mouth and feeling his expert tongue caress your cavity, leaving you breathless but addicted to the feel of each other.

Chris found his way to your pussy, opening your legs slightly and without wasting time, he pushed the fabric of your panties aside, playing with your clit, making you gasp and take a moment away from his lips. You were now focused on his fingertips caressing you.

Chris licked his lips, leering at you and admiring the slight trembling of your body from pleasure. By this point, he too was already so hard with an erection protruding from his pants.

“You're so wet and needy, let me take care of you” he moaned.

You were almost about to cum with his caresses on your clit, his movements on it, his light pinching and pressure towards it, turning you on so much, but his fingers went down your wet folds, in search of your entrance and, you realized what he would do, it still surprised and hurt a little to feel two of his fingers inside you. You moaned louder at the sensation of his digits sliding into your virgin hole, as did Chris who let out a groan, unable to believe you were so tight, even being in that position, sitting on his lap, there was no reason for your insides to squeeze his fingers so tight, he had never felt a pussy like that before, like yours, he love every second of it, he was obsessed.

“Fuck” blubbered Chris, “You like that, don't you, little doll?”

You whimpered high pitched in response, his fingers began to penetrate you and his thumb went back to caressing your clit and labia, making you feel like you had never felt before. You were so hot, you wanted to strip off all your clothes and feel something bigger fill your pussy, you were a mess, moaning and shivering at his hand on your cunt.

“Tell daddy how much you like it, babygirl, call me daddy when I'm touching so good your pussy” he gasped.

“Yes, daddy I love it, please don't stop” you whimpered in a squeak, feeling your orgasm so close as your heart pounded intensely.

Your first orgasm caused by a man. Daddy, daddy, daddy, you thought it fit him so well, he was older than you, and you could tell he liked to be in control. He could command you whatever he wanted, he could be in charge, your panties got wetter as you fantasized about how dominant he was. He was so hard, analyzing every part of you and enjoying your body fading for him.

You were about to cum, your pussy moistening Chris's fingers more and more, your thighs quivering and the feeling of clenching in your stomach, you were so close… but the sound of heels down the hall and door handle turning startled you too much, Chris removed his fingers from you abruptly, hurting you a little but you stood up instantly, adjusting your skirt and resting your hands on his desk, turning your back to the door. Chris picked up a book that was on his desk, opened it and held it with his hand whose fingers were touching you earlier, over his cock, at an angle where you couldn't see his erection and the small wet spot you left on his pants.

“Hey” you heard and turned your body, hiding the cigarette and found Ruby all smiles but then grimaced, “Fuck, Chris, did you smoke here? Anyways, Liv and Minho arrived with the shoppings, should I start the… grill?”

You and Chris simultaneously looked at each other, looking scared and guilty.

“No, it's okay baby, I'll go downstairs in a minute.”

“Oh, you found each other, didn't you” Ruby added, leaving you confused, “Y/n it's a little artist too, she draws and paints well” she confirmed, referencing that Chris was doing a sketch.

He didn't know that and wanted to know more about you. But fate was not in your favor this time.

“Are you okay, honey, you're sweating and look a little red?” said Ruby worriedly.

You were so wet and hot, your fluids bothered you, but you had to pretend to be okay, so much so that you went outside pretending nothing was wrong, watching the stupid grill burn, almost as much as your insides, you kept fantasizing if Ruby hadn't interrupted you what would have happened, maybe you would have tasted and had another piece of meat in your mouth before the one Minho was cooking.

You watched him, who stood next to Minho, looking manly grilling the meat. Chris had changed his clothes, now wearing jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. You felt a little jealous that you didn't even want to ask Liv if anything happened with Minho, you wanted your own moment with Chris no matter what. Chris noticed your look and in a whisper said to his friend:

“I kissed her and touched her.”

“Woah, good for you dude, what did I tell you about college girls? They are all trouble makers but they know how to take care of you very well” Minho encouraged him smilingly, giving him a friendly pat.

“But we were interrupted and now I feel guilty, I don't think I should have done it…”

You took your phone and amidst impatience, texted him, just telling him Hey and watched as he immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing the message but ignored it.

“My sexual fantasy is a threesome with Minho and Chris, imagine their two cocks pleasuring you. I'm kinda horny right now” Liv spoke as if nothing, seeing herself on her cell phone camera, snapping you out of your trance.

So were you. In fact she was talking but you weren't paying attention, you weren't that greedy, Chris's cock was really enough for you.

[…]

It was late at night, everyone was sleeping, but you noticed the pool house light on through the window, you didn't know what it was about, but you were thankful that you were a little lazy to remove your makeup and quietly put your clothes back on, taking off your pajamas, with the slightest hope that, maybe it was Chris being alone, or in the worst case, him with his girlfriend.

You texted him but he didn't respond and you were impatient so you carefully went downstairs quietly and managed to get outside, walking up to the property and slowly entered the house, which was literally another house, just a little smaller. And you found Chris with his back turned sitting in the chairs leaning against the kitchen counter.

He turned to see who it was and smiled broadly at the sight of you. You also noticed that he was drinking and smoking, or at least you saw a couple of cigarettes in the ashtray and apparently he was alone. You approached him, so excited with adrenaline at its peak to see that he could be all by himself. He smiled at you, so wide that he narrowed his eyes, he wasn't expecting you but he was just thinking about you, he couldn't sleep, you drove him crazy, when he saw you, it seemed almost like a dream since he was starting to get a little drunk.

You sat down on the chair next to him and noticed his almost empty glass of hard liquor.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered to him.

“I'm just… drinking a little” he replied, his tone of voice low and almost slurring his words.

“By yourself?”

“Minho just left, wanna join me?”

You shook your head softly, you really didn't want to drink, you wanted to kiss him passionately, and more so knowing you were alone. But Chris went there because he couldn't sleep and he kept thinking about it in that he felt a little guilty but at the same time he wanted to do so many things to you, you looked innocent, you were young and his deepest desire was to corrupt you so badly.

You decided to get bold and just blurted out:

“Why don't we continue what we were doing… I didn't get to cum.”

Chris let out a chuckle in disbelief at your comment and analyzed you, from your face with your makeup intact, to your thighs uncovered by your skirt with very easy access to him.

“Who would have thought, you look so innocent… but you are quite the dirty little whore. You want me to make you cum, huh?”

His comment made your skin bristle and gave you shivers, both for your body, and for your pussy, causing it to twinge with arousal in your sensitive core. Everything about him turned you on so much.

“Yes…”

“And what will you do for me?” he asked so quickly as soon as you answered, looking at you defiantly.

You stood there thinking for a few seconds, "You want… me to make you cum too?" you spoke uncertainly.

“I wanna see it” he challenged you, “I like you a lot” he confessed, getting carried away with the moment and the alcohol doing its thing.

You smiled, stood up from the chair and moved closer to him, Chris turned his body and let position yours between his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, he grabbed your waist and you, close to his lips, reciprocated his confession.

“I like you a lot too, Chris.”

He smiled, coming back to all his senses, leaving the effect of the alcohol aside, so awake and ready for you, he raised his eyebrows, wanting to correct you, lowering his hands to your ass, you understood immediately.

“I like you, daddy” you repeated.

“That's my good girl.”

You felt your body burn on fire, that had sounded so good to you, more so coming from his voice and him. You moved in with a smile to kiss him, savoring the taste of the liquor on his full lips, spending long minutes of him running down your body and both of you completely lost in each other's lips, feeling his tongue and nose collide on your face, kissing was such an intimate act, something you loved to do with Chris, whose erection in his pants grew sky high, his throbbing cock ready to be used.

Chris couldn't take it anymore, he wanted your pretty mouth around his cock, he wanted to fuck your throat until he made you cry. As he pulled away he admired your heaving breathing and swollen lips, he thought this was just the beginning of more to come.

“Fuck” he whispered with a little pain from his erection stuck in his jeans.

You watched him, for a few seconds somewhat transfixed and realized he was just as turned on as you were, you stared at the bulge in his pants, not wanting to wait any longer to get his cock out at once, but he went ahead to say.

“C'mon babygirl, feel how hard daddy is for you, and make me feel good, be a good girl.”

You got so excited, as if you had won a prize and lowered your arms off his shoulders so you could feel his hard member between the also tough denim of his jeans. You bit your lip and unbuttoned his pants. Chris gasped, breathing raggedly knowing you were about to attend to his cock. You finally released it, wanting to experience everything with it and getting the big surprise of how nice and big it looked, just as veiny as his arms. You took it, completely forgetting that you were a poor college virgin girl and, that he would most likely end up fucking you and you couldn't agree more, you could remember that your virginity was taken by a man who knows what he's doing, millionaire, incredibly handsome with a colossal cock to die for.

You stroked his glans with your thumb and spread his precum over his length, it was your first time feeling a penis in your hand, for the moment, at least Chris's, it felt so good, its texture was smooth but his muscle was so tight and rigid. Chris for his part, gasped enjoying the feel of your hands on his cock and watched you look so impressed, almost as if you were studying every part of his anatomy, making you look a little more innocent but daring.

You acted with common sense, and began to slide your hands up and down his member, stroking his length from top to bottom, making him feel great. Chris bit his lip and inhaled air between his teeth, so excited he could cum right then and there. He didn't know exactly how to ask you, but he really wanted your mouth on his cock.

“Babygirl, use your mouth please, please” Chris babbled, caressing your face, admiring it before it was ruined by his cock in your mouth and the constant motion.

Your pussy throbbed harder at the thought of sucking him off and you dropped to your knees, unconsciously sighing nervously, making Chris feel the warm air of your sigh, now giving him shivers of pure arousal.

You looked into his eyes before bringing his cock closer to your mouth, to which he looked at you approvingly, subtly shaking his head encouraging you to do so.

You stuck out your tongue and licked his entire length, losing more and more strength, you were so aroused, trembling and twitching with your hot body, until he said,

“Open your mouth wide, baby doll.”

He helped you a little, guiding his cock into your mouth, finally slowly pushing it in, doing your best to make him enjoy it, which you felt a knot in your stomach of nervousness and excitement as Chris moaned loudly, letting you know you were getting off to a good start. He fisted your hair, completely ready to be satisfied.

You sucked his cock, sucking your cheeks and giving your best effort to get as much of his length as you could deep inside your cavity. Chris moaned again incredibly enjoying the also tightness of your mouth and softness of the inside of your cheeks. He watched you the whole time, your lips wrapped around his cock, the tender expression of concentration and struggle on your face, he could cum just from the image of you taking his length.

You started to move, his whole member didn't fit in your cavity, but you did your best, your eyes were starting to bother you a little, you were starting to form little tears, your nose got slick and your jaw hurt a little, but it was worth it, it was so worth it, Chris's moans were so hot to you that you never wanted to stop. You began to move your mouth, taking as much as you could, making Chris lose his sanity little by little, he helped you, pulling on your hair gently and pushing your head to move up and down exquisitely. Your movements were imperfect but from your little details Chris became more aroused and fantasized about your innocence again.

Your saliva combined with his precum began to slip from your lips and you took a breath, pulling his cock out of your mouth, Chris took advantage and quickly stood up from his chair, you looked with confusion at his action and he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you stare into his eyes.

“You're doing great, good girl, but let daddy fuck your throat, are you okay with that?”

Your eyes sparkled brighter despite the little tears you shed, you were scared but nodded so excited. “Yes, daddy” you said.

Chris took his cock almost by its base and opened his mouth slightly indicating you to do the same, causing you tenderness, and you did, his cock and your mouth meeting again, inserting it little by little, until you felt his skin tickle your uvula, your body shuddered, you closed your eyes tightly, he was huge, but you tried to hold back with all your might your gag reflex, Chris shifted his hips and finally you felt his cock sliding down your throat, taking him pure to heaven, you thought of everything, of Chris swimming next to you, of you sitting on his lap, trying to forget the slight discomfort and tingling that his penis was causing in your throat. Chris gasped loudly, and began to move gently, ramming into you, completely filled with sexual pleasure at the feel of his cock inside another strategic spot of yours.

You looked up at him, your watery eyes begging for mercy, your body was weak and your stomach sensitive; you cried harder, drooling non-stop, dripping his testicles and even the floor; unable to breathe or speak, just his balls rubbing against your face, his pubic area bumping against your nose and his cock stretching your throat, with his glans rubbing against your esophagus. You were doing so well, for your first time, and Chris was so happy to remind you of it, moaning senselessly completely lost amidst the pleasure, babbling swear words and whimpering, “You feel so good, babygirl, I'm gonna cum in your throat sweetie.”

But you felt so good, in desperation and helpless, with nothing to do but obey him and make him feel good, your pussy throbbed harder and harder, with the same intensity of an orgasm but you weren't sure if you were about to cum.

You felt Chris's body tremble, a loud gasp escaped his lips and you felt the shot of his hot cum inside your pharynx, he was having a wonderful orgasm like he had never had before, even making him shudder and lose his sanity and consciousness; Chris gently tugged at your hair, gently pulling his cock out of you so as not to hurt you, while he kept collapsing in his orgasm, cumming still on your tongue inside your mouth, spilling a few drops around your mouth.

“Good girl, swallow everything, there you go, good princess” he spoke softly caressing your face, watching you swallow hard and with heavy breathing “C'mon up here. Look at you, your face is a mess, my pretty baby. So fucked up for daddy's cock.”

He smirked at the sight of your face stained red, your cheeks shiny from your tears and your lips dirty and swollen from him.

You stood up and Chris wiped your chin stained in his cum with his thumb and then slipped it into your mouth, which you sucked it hard.

“Let's go to the room” he spoke excitedly, arranging his cock in his underwear and pants to take you by your wrist and lead you to the room.

You were surprised that it could practically be a small apartment with all the amenities with no problem and once you entered his room, he kissed you wildly again, tasting his own cum, feeling the wetness of your lips, and began to undress you, yanking off your skirt, parting from you to remove your top and bra and leaving the best part of taking off your panties at the end.

Chris bit his lip as he slid your panties off, bending down and placing soft kisses on your lower belly all the way down to your mons pubis.

“Fuck, you're beautiful, babydoll.”

He kissed your skin, to then put his warm tongue in and sticking his lips tightly to finally suck, leaving a mark on you and making you gasp softly, he looked up, searching your gaze, leering at you playfully, he couldn't believe he finally had you all to himself. Chris stood back up and quickly began to undress as well, leaving you dumbfounded at how incredibly attractive he looked as he lifted his strong arms to remove his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and nimbly removing his them along his underwear, as you finally stood naked in front of each other, with his prominent and slightly intimidating cock exposed, it dawned on you that, it was tonight the night you would lose your virginity.

He leaned close to your ear, whispering hotly, “I want your pretty pussy in my face, sit on daddy's face princess, please.”

You shivered and watched as Chris lay back on the bed, you quickly followed him, biting your lip unsure how you would do it, but completely sure what it was all about. You climbed onto the bed and positioned your pussy in his mouth, embarrassed to let yourself fall into it, but you did, giving a little jump of shock as you felt his tongue on your vulva, Chris took hold of your thighs, to lift you up and guide your pussy to his liking and disposal. You felt his fleshy lips kiss the full length of your folds and his big nose squeezing your vulva hard each time he gently shifted positions in your pussy, making the sensation a hundred times better. Chris licked and sucked intensely and thoroughly on your clit, making your thighs quiver in desperation and pleasure, you were so close but for some reason the sensation of your near orgasm was dragging on longer and longer, building up in intensity; Chris slid his tongue, licking your labia and reaching your entrance, sucking making a soft, sonorous slurping sound of your soaking wet pussy. You were on cloud nine, completely out of thoughts, your vision blurred and enjoying your first oral sex, with an older man who was an expert at every single thing he did, you couldn't have asked for anything better.

Chris lifted you up a little and said:

“Ride me, babygirl, fuck my tongue, move over, fuck.”

Then inserted his tongue inside you, making you gasp loudly, even his tongue was reaching a sweet spot in you that made you lose your mind again. You began to move, back and forth, enjoying the sensation of him; you threw your head back with your eyes rolling, Chris caressed your breasts with one hand, pinching your nipples, then bringing that hand quickly to his cock, as it was twitching, and ached a little, Chris stroked his cock and cum intensely in his abs. Sliding scattered drops down his length. Boy had he loved eating you and the delicious taste of your young fluids.

Finally, you came to your orgasm too, so intensely that you felt sorry for yourself at the thought that maybe you had made a mess on Chris. But he was so happy, tasting every drop of you. Awkwardly, you went down on top of him, and dropped your exhausted body on the bed, with the slightest idea that maybe it still left him wanting to fuck you… still you reminded him:

“That was great, daddy, th-thank you.”

Your chest heaved up and down, your world was a blur, the sensations were so new and good to you that your delicate body was exhausted.

“Oh, my pretty baby,” Chris said tenderly.

He sat up, wiping his mouth and chin, parting your legs and positioning his face dangerously in front of your pussy. A mischievous grin formed on his face.

“I'm gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, daddy's not done with you yet.”

Chris went back to stroking your clit with his fingertips, getting you wet in seconds. He watched you, panting and a mess for quite a while but Chris wouldn't stop until he felt your guts. An electric shiver ran down your spine, Chris stopped stroking your clit, spit on your vulva, positioned himself and took his erection, rubbing and stroking in your folds his hard length in your puffy, well lubricated pussy, making you more needy until at last, you felt his tip slide into your orifice, stretching every muscle at your entrance, gradually filling your insides, causing Chris to whimper halfheartedly at the sensation of your core deliciously smothering his cock. You gasped in pain and pleasure until you felt his glans tingle deep inside you in your cervix, Chris finally popped your cherry that night. You were a woman now, at least in a context of traditional and conservative phrases, wishing you were his woman every day.

You were a little sore, but so excited, you still asked him, “Da-dddy, can you move slow, please?”

He smiled tenderly at you, “Whatever my babydoll asks.”

His cock was buried in your core and Chris began to gently ram your pussy, kissing you slowly on the lips and moving his caresses down to your neck, it felt so good and when you finally felt you had gotten used to and adjusted to his size, you shyly asked him:

“F-faster daddy, please” you stammered.

Chris smiled sideways and started ramming you deeper and faster, sliding carelessly into your walls, making you gasp in pain but it felt so good, his cock filling every inch of you, you couldn't help but feel haunted by the sensation. Your thighs squeezed his body and your body began to move uncontrollably, your breasts jiggled roughly at each thrust and your insides burned with desire and for his big new visitor. His body collided with yours non-stop, you were breathless, aching and about to cum intensely.

Chris was babbling and moaning things you couldn't understand, he was so close to cumming in you, completely fixated on your insides squeezing his cock. You arched your back, contracting your body, ready to release in your second orgasm.

“Cum for me, fuck, cum on daddy's cock. You like that huh? You like to be fucked hard?”

“Fuuuck, daddy yesss” you squealed, cumming and wetting his cock.

You fell down in surrender, Chris rammed you a couple of times, deeper to climax in you, with the sensation of his cum shot hitting your cervix. Chris pulled out of you, admiring the dirty artistry of your little hole quivering and spurting his bright white cum. Getting him hard in seconds again. Satisfying him so much by leaving you so weak.

“And I'm not done yet, princess.”

You blinked suddenly and Chris grabbed your arm, making you turn around, he opened your folds, exposing your newly destroyed hole, still wet in each other's cum and, he pushed his cock back into you, making you whimper, you were barely recovering when you felt the firmness of his huge cock again in your walls, this time he went in fast, his whole cock, ramming into your pussy, hitting your ass because you didn't even have time to settle, you were lying down, face down, panting and somehow, extremely aroused again.

Chris pounded you hard again, so brutal and primal releasing every frustration of his in your weak body, ramming you hard, making your ass vibrate every time his pelvis and balls collapsed into you. He moved in on you, his arm headlocking you, tightening his grip harder and harder, cutting off your breath slowly without stopping thrusting hard into you.

“You like that, don't you sweet baby? Fuck! You feel so good.”

You couldn't even answer him, besides the fact that he was slowly suffocating you, you couldn't think clearly, you only heard his gasps, yours and the sound of your bodies colliding at such a frantic act. You were so close, just as he was, your breathing was completely cut off, you heard his panting close to your ear, this time you trembled more intensely, and your vision blurred more, begging for air, but in desperation, you cum intensely, almost making yourself cry. Chris softened his grip, letting you catch your breath and cum in you again, spurting out quickly and ejaculating a few loads in your ass.

You couldn't take it anymore. You even forgot your name. You could only remember Chris, who pushed your hair aside and kissed your back.

“That was amazing, beautiful. We're going to have a really fun summer.”

He couldn't help but think of all the ways he wanted to fuck you, treating you like a doll, showering you with pampering afterwards, but damn it, he had to break up with his girlfriend.

You were trying to come back to your senses, but you were so tired and could only think that, somehow, you loved him, and didn't know exactly why.

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

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

[oh-no-its-bird]

Really stupid au where when they were younger, Kakashi and Obito shared an accidental kiss a lot like Sasuke and Naruto. (Kakashi commits to his mask shortly after but will never not insist it's unrelated)

Years later and Kakashi, trying to cheer up Naruto and Sasuke ab their own embaressing accidental first kiss, shares his own story

Then, years later when Obito reveals himself on the battlefield, instead of going "woah, another Uchiha!?" when he hears his name, Naruto can't help but point and shout OH MY GOD UR THE GUY WHO KISSED SENSEI!!!!!!!!

Instant dead silence. (Obito wants to die)

Sakura, who never heard the story ab how it was a one time accidental kiss: "omg... sensei's childhood boyfriend went evil on him... this is so fucked up"

Obito is VIOLENTLY thrown off by this turn of events (and also hasn't actually thought ab it in years oh my god that did happen didn't it)

Kakashi, seeing how badly it threw him off, and also the kind of person who plays hard into throwing people off and generally fucking w them to gain an edge, seeing Sakura mumbling ab lovers to enemies and just kinda goes "Yeah Obito I can't believe you'd do this to me I thought we had smthn special."

"Yeah a rivalry????"

"So I was only ever a way for u to get stronger,, figures u were using me,,,"

[Confused Obito car crash noises]

Sakura yells smthn ab him being a deadbeat and how Kakashi can do so much better and Naruto is instantly shouting in agreement as Sasuke stands there like "hn." Which is basically the same thing for him

Kakashi just starts straight up lying actually

"What about all those picnics we went on... watching the sun set over konoha..."

"Are you talking about when Minato said we weren't allowed to come back inside till we stopped arguing and ate on opposite ends of the roof bc we couldn't even look at eachother without yelling???"

"It was so romantic."

Obito, starting to actually doubt himself, "was that a date????"

(It was not.)

"You died in my arms..."

"I died under a rock"

"We literally got eye married" (not a thing, he just made this up 3 seconds ago)

"We got WHAT" (no one can prove him wrong tho bc no surviving Uchiha knows that much ab their clans marriage traditions)

"Oh my god sensei's husband is a deadbeat" - sakura, horrified (and maybe a little delighted)

"Figures." -Sasuke, who's been in proximity w Obito for some time now and absoloutley believes every word ab this topic Kakashi is saying

"Woah. This is almost as bad as the fact he murdered my parents when I was a baby dattebayo" - Naruto who's priorities are NOT what they should be

"Ok. I wouldn't go that far." - Sasuke, who's priorities are also fucked but not THAT fucked, oh my god Naruto

"No, no he's right. We should kill him even harder for this" - Sakura, who doesn't actually agree but wants an excuse for more juicy sensei love drama (and also wants to see Obito beaten to death anyways)

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Not under my roof pt 2

Pt 1

As you entered Tannyhill with red, teary eyes, Ward and rose sat down anxiously waiting.

“Are you okay?” Rose asked concerned.

“I’m-“

“She’s fine. Go to the room and get some sleep. Please.” He looked at you, you just wordlessly dragged yourself to his room.

He sat down with Ward and Rose outside, and Wheezie snuck her way into Rafe’s room, where you were currently putting down all the clothes you grabbed.

You turned back, not expecting to see Wheezie.

“Hey, wheeze.” You told her with a small smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Hi.” She sat down next to you, you sniffling and wiping your nose. “Guessing it didn’t go so good?” She asked, making you laugh and shake your head.

“No.”

“I’m sorry. That… that must suck.” She said with a frown on her face.

“It does. But…” you sighed. “I’ll be fine. How’d your dad and rose react?”

“They were mad at first, not at you. But now i think they’re more happy about it. They said ‘at least it was with you and not some random girl.’”

You laughed again, her smiling at the smile you had.

“He stopped hooking up with other girls once he started dating you though. Obviously.” She corrected.

“Would hope so.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence, before she stood up in front of the bed.

“I’m gonna go try to listen in on them.” She said with a smile.

“Let me know what they say.” You whispered to her with a small smile back, she nodded and gently shut the door.

You sighed, falling back onto the bed. You just curled up and fell asleep for hours.

——

“She’s asleep right now.” You heard a whispered voice at the door.

“Well, she needs to eat. She’s been sleeping all day.” You heard another voice say.

Rafe took the plate, mumbling a small thanks and closing the door. He watched as you stirred in the bed, stretching when you sat up. He put the plate on your legs.

“Morning, sunshine.” He said, teasing you and sitting down on the chair he had set up at his desk, turning it to you.

“Hi.” You mumbled sleepily. “What time is it?” You asked him.

“Like… 9.” He shrugged. “Rose brought some food.” He motioned to the plate on your lap. “They also wanna talk to you tomorrow.”

You stared down at it, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

“You alright?” He questioned, watching the way your face looked.

He then saw the little tear drops that hit that plate as you continued to stare. He furrowed his eyebrows, getting up and into the bed next to you.

“Hey, what the fucks wrong?” He asked, his hand ghosting over your back. You pressed your face into his shoulder, and he just sat and rubbed your back, still a little confused.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled when you stopped crying, wiping your eyes and the tears.

“It’s alright, but what the fuck was that for?”

“I don’t know.. probably my hormones or something.” You mumbled. “Its just…”

You started crying again, he sighed and wrapped his arm around you.

“I don’t know, it feels so nice. Your parents are happy, and I can’t get that, I’m never gonna go see them again. I’m never gonna see Kie!” You rambled on. “And they even cooked for me and shit. That’s just… so sweet!” You sobbed, Rafe had a small smile on his face at that last sentence.

“You’re good. You’re fine.” He mumbled, not really knowing how to deal with any of this.

“Hey, listen to me mamas.” He told you quietly, your sobs quieting down.

“I mean, sure they’re pissed now, but they’ll come around when they see him.”

“Who said it was gonna be a him?” You asked him with a nasally laugh.

“Well, whatever it is. They’ll love h- them. And you think my parents weren’t pissed? I told Ward and he was ready to punch me. He wasn’t even mad at you! He fuckin’ adores you.” He said, smiling when you laughed at his words.

“And don’t even get me started on Rose, she went straight to the liquor cabinet. She told me she’s too young to be a grandma. I mean, she married an ancient man, shoulda expected it.”

Once more, you found yourself laughing at him, and his smile grew even wider.

“-And wheeze, oh my god, wheeze, she fucking-“ he started laughing now, covering his mouth, “She told me that she had been waiting forever for this, and she’s just mad it didn’t happen sooner.”

You both laughed together, all your worries slowly disappearing with his words.

“We’re gonna be fine. Promise.” He told you when he laughter died down. “Now can you please eat without slobbering on my bed?” He said in a teasing tone, making you roll your eyes and pick up your fork.

[pinkynana]

am i the asshole? (most likely, yes)

a series where either you or the member does something morally wrong for an unjustified reason. all seven stories are in its own universe so they are not connected in any way. the order of the fics being published are random, not in age order. this may or may not take awhile.

mark - aita for immediately going to comfort my best friend's ex after they broke up so we could link up?

Since the very first time mark saw you, he knew he had to have you. The only problem was that you were introduced as Johnny’s girlfriend to him. Which is why when johnny texted him that the relationship was over, he immediately sprinted to your apartment so he could play the good guy who’s lending a shoulder to lean on while you cried your eyes out. He had it all planned out.

read here

renjun - aita for being possessive about my childhood best friend’s virginity?

It has been awhile since you last met Renjun. Perhaps your last encounter was right after graduation. You recently came back to your old neighborhood, having drinks with your favorite childhood best friend. And it slipped out of you that you had never had sex, despite a whole semester in college. Renjun took that as an invitation. Afterall, you experienced every one of your firsts with Renjun.

read here

jeno - aita for seducing my step brother because i got jealous that he got a girlfriend?

It’s been a year since your parents got married and you were officially Lee Jeno’s step sister. Despite living under the same roof, you never really seriously connected with him and it’s all because of your huge crush on him. You didn’t want Jeno to see you as a family member, so you kept your distance. Until he brought home a girl and something inside you just burns at the thought of him sleeping with her.

read here

haechan - aita for fucking my girlfriend while my webcam was still on so my friends could watch?

Haechan always showed you off to his friends and you didn’t mind it at all. You find it hot anyway. What you didn’t know was the fact that he also always showed your body off to them too. All the times you had recorded your sexy times, all went into Haechan’s friends’ folders.

read here

jaemin - aita for only agreeing to be friends with benefits with him so i could play with his cats?

You partnered up with Jaemin by chance, not knowing that he was a father to three adorable cats. And to say that you’re a cat person was an understatement. Since then, you always came over to Jaemin’s apartment which resulted in you being under him at some point. If you were saying frankly, you didn’t give a fuck about the sex. All you think about everytime you were there were luna, lucy and luke.

read here

chenle - aita for hooking up with a random man i met at the club while i was in a fight with my boyfriend?

Your boyfriend always told you that he hated girls at the club, saying that they were easier than prostitutes and such. Which drove you to the decision to go to a club after your hundredth fight with him, just to provoke him. It was never your intention to be in another man’s arms that night.

read here

jisung - aita for not deleting the nudes that my best friend accidentally sent me?

Jisung knew about your situationship that’s been going on for about five months. He doesn’t know the details, though. Truth be told, it’s embarrassing to admit to him that your situationship barely ever pays attention to you lately. So you decided to take it up a notch by sending him nudes. Which then you only realized 20 minutes later that you sent it to Jisung by mistake.

read here

[streetlamp-amber]

first kicks

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol

Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.

You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.

The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.

”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.

”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”

”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.

“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.

“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.

“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.

Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.

“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”

“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.

You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.

The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.

“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.

You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”

Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.

“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.

“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”

And sure enough he was right. 

“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.

“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.

“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.

“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.

“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.

“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.

You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.

“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.

You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”

“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.

Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”

“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.

“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”

“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”

A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.

“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.

“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.

“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.

“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.

You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.

“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.

Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.

“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”

“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.

You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.

“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.

You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.

“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.

“No,” you immediately said.

“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.

Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”

“Language!” You scolded him.

“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.

“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.

“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.

“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.

“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.

Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.

“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.

“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.

“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.

“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”

Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”

“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.

Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.

Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Our second DCXDP au has Danny hiding in Gotham with the cores of Dani, Dan and two other clones who survived. They need DNA to be able to reform but it's in a ‘it doesn't have to be now’ kind of way. Not just Danny’s DNA but another to to balance out their genes.

They'll become babies and be raised up. Dani was melting but forced Danny to promise he wouldn't find someone right away he'd take his time to fall in love first. Dan did the same and the twin clones did to.

Danny decides it's a good idea but keeps the cores safe. He ran to Gotham in the DC universe because the GIW were to close to killing him. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Grandma Ida and the Foleys all followed. Grandma Ida is running some gang down in crime alley having a blast with Sam, constantly trying to hook Sam up with Jason who Ida is in a turf war with. Tucker is happily running a tech company that will soon outstrip it's competitors., his parents helping Jazz is terrifying in Arkham as she tears our corruption.

Maddie abd Jack found out about the Leauge of Assassins and went: study time. Danny, knowing its corrupted ecto and also not wanting to deal with assassins lets then have fun. So Ra’s is dealing with liminal mad scientists who keep stealing the Pits and also have uncovered two Damian clones they kidnapped. Their kids now.

But we’re focusing on Danny who is in college and living a peaceful life which is what he wants most of all. The cores of his kids are always on him just in case and he's casually dating. It's great. He can just be Danny the guy who is super into space and plans on being a mechanic for the watch tower.

Then one day Two-Face attacks the cafe he's at (because of a sale it was having where it was two for one on some sort of new treat). Danny has to run for his life. He gets hit and the bag he has the cores in is harmed. One falls out and he freaks, diving for it. He grabs it just as Black Bat swoops in to save him. She flies him up to a roof.

They land and then she moves to grab one of the cores that fell out. Danny gets antsy but it requires skin contact so it should be okay, she's wearing gloves after all. It'll be fine!

On her part, Cass is wondering why her hand feels tingly but there isn't anything malicious in the mans face so she thinks it might just be the orb she caught being weird. She swings off, noting that she has a hole in her glove.

Danny goes home and doesn't think about it until he realizes that the core the hero touched is growing. And it's getting sick without the touch of its other parent.

Cass on the other hand feels strange. Like she's pulled somewhere. She instantly thinks of the guy and alerts the others to him. They hunt him down to find him on a rooftop. He's surprised to see them, holding an Orb that’s glowing.

“I thought it would take longer…” the man says. He shakes his head. “Umm… rip the band-aids off- I'm nottotslly human.”

The Batfam kinda pauses cause he's giving this info up for free. Cass is eyeing him closely. It's just her, Batman and Robin in front of the man. Everyone else is listening in or in the shadows.

“I ran away from my home dimension cause they were hunting me down to kill me because they believed I was non-sentient. You know sad trench- I mean, John Constantine? I think he put in the word we’re friendly,” the man babbles. The orb shines. “Okay, okay. I need to… Black Bat did your glove have a hole in it when you touched this?”

Cass hums but nods. Barbara has Constantine on the line (and no one wants to know the blckmail she has to make him answer) and he's confirming it's a friendly.

“Okay, okay… this is a Core and it's the heart, soul, brain, everything of an ecto-entity like me. And it… it’s my child. But it needed a second set of DNA. It's fine dormant, it doesn't hurt the baby. But it…” the man swallows. “Skin touch.”

Cass knows in a second what he's leading up to. She touched the orb. It needed DNA.

That's her baby in his hands.

Que the chaos.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n ❞ iii

part two - part four

➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.

➪ co-parenting, dead-beat fathers and curious friends.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles (platonic) x lando

➪ my babies are back and they're lying their asses off <3

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 478,963 others

y/nusername obsessed actually.

tagged: manon_roux, alicedidier, charles_leclerc

view all 1,425 comments

hamilt44n ma'am how many more babies are you going to steal from your friends? 😭

charlesgirlies so true bestie I'm obsessed with Leo leclerc as well!

↳ charlesgirlies and the other dog, don't know who he is but I love him as well ❤️

bobnorriz oooh who got you those chocolates huh? 👀

pierregasss time to have your own babies again!

↳ lanlan yes!!!! Zoey would make such a good sister!

norry4 first if all its zoë and not Zoey and second of all, stop telling y/n she should get another kid..it's weird

bananacharles obsessed with Charles as well?

estiebestieocon baby number two when? 👀

manon_roux so that's where my son went..

↳ y/nusername *our son

milliexoxo little Noah belongs to us all 💙

alicedidier all our kids belong to you all apparently

y/nusername yeah 🥰

leolec16 leoooooooo 🥰

schumimick charles gave zoe a baby brother now its your turn 😍

↳ yukisan girl stfu maybe she doesn't want to???

norrizz some of y'all so rude! If you were even the slightest bit interested in y/n like you claim, you'd know having kids is difficult and having zoë wasn't something that just happened..

↳ norry4 this!!

charliecharles I didn't even know this...how do you know?

norrizz go watch zoë's 2nd bday vlog

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y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

you are giving this man way too many chances

y/nusername

he showed up sober

manon_roux

This man has problems

y/nusername

Zoë still likes her grandpa

manon_roux

this man is not grandpa worthy

he's never been a normal dad how does he know how to love a child in the first place?

are you alone with him or is charles with you?

y/nusername

yeah and joris so I'm good

we're almost leaving

manon_roux

where are you staying?

charles? Hotel?

y/nusername

what's got that to do with all this?

manon_roux

Just curious 😉

y/nusername

I've got a roof over my head, I'm fine.

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y/nusername posted to their story

milliexoxo replied to your story

milliexoxo

you might be able to fool some people but I know exactly where these pictures are taken, I've been in that man's house a lot 😂

you're at lando's place?

y/nusername

If you know, why'd you ask?

milliexoxo

So? 👀

y/nusername

he offered me a place to stay, he's not even in town so calm down

milliexoxo

Wow I'm just curious 😂

y/nusername

last time you were curious about my relationship with lando you threw a tantrum because i broke up with him..

milliexoxo

Can you stop using that against me? 😭

I was immature and dumb ass fuck and I've apologised for it

So you're not together together?

y/nusername

No millie, we're not

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Miami, Florida

liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 465,577 others

y/nusername dora, boots & swiper.

tagged: milliexoxo

norrizz you're dora, zoë's boots so millie is swiper?

↳ y/nusername you know it! 🤗

milliexoxo always made the villain

norrizz millie you are a criminal, you're always the villain 😂

piastry mom's weekend with the kids <3

yukisan bunch of pretty ladies 🥰

manon_roux 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶

↳ y/nusername 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶

manon_roux 🕺 💃 🕺💃🕺💃🕺

julieeeexo when you're a mom, you turn up to kids shows 😂

y/nusername ask millie where she got the dress from

↳ hamilt44n where's millie's dress from?

y/nusername my closet

hamilt44n 😭 😭

milliexoxo best store in town tbh

landooooo just 3 bestie exploring the world together :)

sharl16 so we just gonna ignore the fact y/n, lando and zoë flew to miami together like a happy little family or what???

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @ireadthensuetheauthors @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld @destinyg237

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

Desire taglist; @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

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

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

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

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

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

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

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

Your dad was late to dinner again. 

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

And he was late. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mihawk gave you a look. 

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t mind, lass.” 

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

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

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

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

“I need another drink.” 

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

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?” 

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

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

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

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to go home. 

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

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

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

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight. 

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t need your protection.” 

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

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

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

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eyed him. “…Anything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not upset by that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

i'll be making a taglist for this series; just comment if you'd like to be added!

© halfvalid 2023

[macfrog]

rack 'em

the girlies watched triple frontier last week and it was the single most inspiring thing i have ever seen so here’s a lil frankie fic to cleanse my mind. dedicated to my babies @gracieispunk (who put this concept in my head for the wee laddies), @hellishjoel & @strang3lov3 🤍

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x f!reader

summary: when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, teasing & touching, dubcon (reader is a little drunk, frankie is not), oral sex (f receiving), alcohol consumption, quick mention of dr*gs, cursing, frankie's a bit of a dick but reader gives as good as she gets

word count: 6.1k (cause apparently i don’t know how to write short fics 🤪)

main masterlist

When you were four, a new family moved in across the street. Nobody knew them – your mom spent two straight days trying to scoop for information. Who they were, where they’d moved from, what was with the banged-up Ford pickup they drove. Nobody knew a thing.

You didn’t take much interest, being four years old – two months shy of your fifth birthday, by the way – and too invested in whatever politics a woman of your age finds herself wrapped up in, but you noticed one key thing about them.

The mom had tattoos.

Two full sleeves. Colorful ones, too. A bright red heart on her shoulder, a green snake wrapped around her forearm – among others. It was fucking cool, alright? No matter how much your mom whispered to Ms. Teller over the fence about them.

One night, when you were supposed to be in bed, you snuck out of your room and crossed the landing to your brother’s. Santiago and his friends were all staying at Tom’s, and you knew that in his desk he had permanent markers. You clicked the door open, as quiet as you could, and crept over his matted carpet to the drawer. You took one Sharpie, and spent the night adding snakes and hearts and whatever else came to mind to your Barbies’ arms, legs, faces, necks.

They looked fucking awesome. Just like that mom across the street.

But somehow or other – and I’m not blaming anyone – the next morning, a drawing appeared on the bathroom wall. In Sharpie. Your mom hit the roof.

As soon as Santi got home, she dragged him by the ear into the bathroom and pointed a trembling finger at the drawing. You forget what it was – it’s been years, and you were never much of an artist.

His plea of innocence helped him none; she knew he owned Sharpies, knew he sucked just as bad as you did at drawing, and he was grounded for three whole weeks. No soccer practice, no TV, no PlayStation. Which, at thirteen, is basically a stint in Rikers.

Your brother, though…he was always better than your mom at reading your mind. He saw the guilt on your face plain as the black marker behind the toilet tank. He cornered you in your bedroom as soon as she went back downstairs, and established three key rules going forward.

One: do not enter his room ever again.

Two: no touching his stuff.

And three: anytime he took the fall for you, you owed him. Big time.

You’ve followed the rules ever since. You barely knew what the inside of his room looked like, growing up. But it worked, ‘cause ever since the Sharpie incident of ’99, you two remained closer than most siblings with an eight-year age gap.

So, now, two days into a two-week stay back in your hometown to housesit while your parents head off on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, you’re in the car with him. Listening to music, bitching about your mom, arguing over the best Cola flavor.

It’s like old times.

“She said, How’s my baby girl?” you yell over Stevie Nicks’s voice, reading from your phone.“And when I said I’m fine, she said, No, I meant the dog. Is she fucking serious?”

Santiago’s head tilts back with laughter, dark curls nudging against the headrest. He’s driving you to Lucky’s, a local sports bar he and his buddies frequent. He promised when he picked you up at the airport he’d take you out, get you drunk, and he was holding to it.

You pull your legs down off the dash as he turns into the parking lot, pulling in right under the white fluorescent sign, four-leaf clover flashing under it.

“She’s looking forward to seeing you when they get back,” he tells you, switching the engine off.

“Oh, yeah? That why she didn’t even hang around to see me before they left?”

He hands you a smug grin, shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t have it all, big shot. You move a thousand miles away, you forfeit your chance of being the favorite.”

You swing your door open and hop out, chasing him around the car to follow him inside. “You say that like I was ever in the fucking running.”

He snorts, pushing the door open, and a loud cheer roars through the bar. You blush as you follow your brother across the room to two tables full of familiar faces.

“Hey, baby.” Your best friend’s arms pull you in, her gold hoop earrings cold against your cheek. She smells like rose and cedarwood.

“Mal,” you hum, smiling as she pulls away.

“My mom said your parents only just made it on board,” she says, detaching strands of her long, black hair from the cuff of your jacket. “Said they had a flat tire and had to race to get to the boat.”

Your head jerks back. “She never told me any of that. Just asked how Ange was.”

Mal snorts.

“Hey, lil Santi!”

You glance over your shoulder to watch as Benny Miller stalks over, almost shoving some old guy off his feet, arms wide open, wide grin spread across his lips. His brother, Will, follows behind, and gives your shoulder a loving slap when Benny pulls you in for a hug.

“How’s Boston treatin’ ya?”

“Good,” you reply. “How’s…MMA treating you?”

“Good!” he echoes, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

It’s kinda part of the deal that your older brother’s friends become brothers in their own right to you, especially when you’re as young and easily-influenced as you were. They used to use you in their elaborate plans – send you in as a distraction while they filled their pockets with food at parties, or use your smaller stature to their advantage when attempting to break into places they shouldn’t.

By the time you were old enough to follow their orders, they were well into their teens. Which is basically grown-up, as far as six-year-old you was concerned. They were always allowed to do things you’re still not sure your mom would permit you to do at twenty-eight, like disappear all day without checking in, or come home black and blue after an organized street brawl with the boys from the other side of the neighborhood.

But there was no denying they cared about you. Will, Benny, and Tom, at least. They showed their affection by ruffling your hair as they passed, or sneaking you candy under the table even after your mom had told you you’d had enough. They’d christened you ‘lil Santi’, a name that – despite the embarrassment it always casts over you anytime you hear it – still sticks to this day.

Your brother’s friends were family to him, and, by extension, family to you.

Well. All but one.

Frankie Morales – nickname Catfish: long-time best buddy of your big brother, and long-time fucking asshole. There isn’t one thing on Earth that you two see eye to eye on, except for that very fact: he hates you almost as much as you hate him.

Always have, always will.

He’s in trouble almost regularly for drug-related stuff you don’t bother asking Santiago about. You don’t need to hear details to know he’s a pain in the ass. He’s been antagonizing you for as long as you’ve known him – where the others ruffled your hair, he’d shove into your shoulder as he passed, sending you – and whatever you were holding – flying. Any attempt you made at conversation with any one of them resulted in an argument between you and Frankie.

You hated him. Fucking hated him.

And tonight, you almost think yourself lucky. Almost go over to thank Santi for not inviting him, when you notice the silhouette of his baseball cap and that denim button up hunched over in a bar stool, and your eyes narrow.

You can’t help yourself. It’s been a years-long feud. And you’re old enough to take him on now. So, you stride over.

“You here to poison my drink?”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. Already exasperated just by the sight of you.

“I bet you cheered the loudest when I walked in.”

He shrugs. “Cheered when your brother gave me fifty bucks to show face.”

Your upper lip curls. When the bartender notices you standing, elbows propped on the bar, he leans over.

“Beer, please.” Your smile twists into a grimace when you catch Frankie watching you. “What are you doing here? You have to be the person least excited to see me home.”

“I told you,” he says, lifting the bottle to his lips, “I’m bein’ paid.”

“Alright, so what do I gotta pay you to make you leave?”

Frankie scoffs, opens his mouth to answer what you’re sure is a comment laced with just as much venom, when Will’s strong arms slap down on each of your shoulders.

“We buyin’ our favorite veterinary nurse a drink, Francisco?”

You take your beer from Nick’s outstretched hand, sliding him the cash in return, and hold it up to Will in reply. “I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t wanna eat into that fifty bucks, Catfish,” you mutter, turning to wander off.

You weave in and out of bodies, making your way to the opposite side of the bar where the pool tables sit. Doused in the warm strip light over the green felt, Santi chalks his cue ready to play against Mal, who’s already lining up her shot.

You hop up on a stool right next to the table, glancing back over to the bar where Frankie sits, now turned to face your direction. His elbow sits on the wooden surface, head turns from the football game showing behind the bar, over to you. And when he sees you looking, turns back to the TV screen, cool expression never changing.

“You done?” Mal asks Santiago, feeding the cue through her ring-decorated fingers.

He nods, tossing the chalk back over to you. “Better get your purse out, Bennett. Lotta sober people in here, all gonna want a free drink once you lose.”

“As if,” she breathes, and breaks the rack.

Somewhere throughout the game – a grueling and controversial one, by all accounts – Frankie makes his way over, following Will. You’re thankful when he plants himself on the other side of the table, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other around a bottle of beer. Though the light only comes up to his chest, right where the last button is done up, you notice him looking. Every fucking glance.

It pisses you off. Not the glancing. The way it makes you feel having him watch you. Wherever it comes from, you swallow it down with one big gulp of alcohol.

The game ends in a questionable loss. This side of the table swears the white skimmed off of Mal’s final solid when Santi hit it, right before it potted the black. The other side objected, claimed it was a clean shot ‘n you all know it. A winner wasn’t officially announced, but, being that Mallory Bennett is a force of nature where her competitive nature is concerned, Santiago was forced to buy the loser’s round.

She saunters up to you with her free whiskey in her hand, silver jewelry clinking off of the cold glass.

“Proud of yourself?” you ask, smirking.

She hands you your third beer of the night, sweeping her silky hair out of her face. “It hit it, alright? I saw it move.”

“Was that before or after you nudged the table?”

Mal holds a finger to her lips. You swat her hand away and the pair of you giggle, leaning into each other like schoolgirls whispering secrets in the playground.

“You know something,” Santiago materializes over Mal’s shoulder, shaking his head, “if you gotta cheat to beat me, I’ll give you the win.”

“Oh, get out,” you throw back. “Don’t blame her for your bad aim. Ms. Teller could’ve hit that shot and she’s got cataracts in both eyes.”

Your brother nods at you, tongue in his cheek. “Alright, smartass. Grab a cue.”

You scoff. Look around the room, shaking your head. The crowd has dispersed a little, folks have turned back to the TV screens, shifted focus back to the alcohol in their glasses. And then you look back to Santiago, holding his arms out.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You hop down and snatch the second cue, wandering around the table while he racks the balls. He lifts the triangle, rolls the white over to you, and tells you to break.

The multicolored balls scatter in a fleet, two stripes tumble into pockets, and you stand back to survey your options. There’s a third stripe close to a pocket on the right, so you wander around to your left and turn.

“’scuse me,” you mutter, nudging Frankie’s stomach with the bottom of your cue.

He shoots you a dead-eyed stare, and takes one step back. And then his eyes drop, and you feel like you could slap him.

But you’re three – almost four – beers deep, and there are heads turning to watch how this plays out, and you can feel the bassline of the music rippling up from the soles of your feet all through your body, and you can feel the heat of his stare on the backs of your thighs, right where the hem of your dress sits.

Suddenly, slapping isn’t what you want to do to him.

Your head turns back to the pool table and you bend over, drawing the cue back between almost shaking fingers, and slam it into the white. It fires into the red striped ball, which hits the corner of the cushion, millimeters away from falling into the pocket.

You sigh, straightening up and waiting for your brother to begin his taunting, but it never comes. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear.

“Yep?” There’s a pause, Santiago’s face sours, and then he glances around the bar. “Right now? Really? No, it’s just…” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll be there. Just…I’m coming. I’m coming.”

He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath, then turns back to you, answering the question on your expression with: “One of our informants just got himself killed. I gotta go.”

“You haven’t even taken a shot yet,” you huff, taking his cue when he holds it out.

“I’ll make it up to you, hermana, promise. How are you gonna get home?”

You shrug. Mumble an, “I dunno.”

His eyes scan the room, passing over Will – already worse for wear, leaning shakily against a nearby table slurring to a group of strangers, then to Benny – stumbling out of the bar door with some girl on his arm, and finally land on the figure behind you, sliding a bowl of peanuts across the table to himself.

“Morales,” Santiago calls, and you throw the cues down on the felt.

“No, no way,” but your brother is already pushing past you to get to his friend. “Pope, no fucking w–”

Frankie turns, handful of nuts, cheek full and chewing.

“I gotta go, trouble at work. Can you do me a favor, man, ‘n make sure she gets home alright?”

“No,” you repeat. “He is not taking me home.”

“Baby,” Santi pleads, “just go with him, please?”

“I’ll walk. It’s, like, a twenty-minute walk.”

“No way. Mom would kill me.”

“Well, then, we just don’t tell her. Pope, please.”

He ignores you. “You are not walking home after dark. No.”

“Probably be safer than in the truck with him.”

Frankie’s head stops flitting between the two of you and his glare settles on yours. “Fuck you,” he spits, shaking his head.

“Right back at you,” you reply, insincere smile on your lips.

Santiago puts his palms together and holds them out to you. “Look, just – please. Just this once. I’ll owe you one.”

He doesn’t owe you one often. Makes a point of deliberately trying not to owe you one. This is an interesting offer. You sigh, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. You better fucking pay me back, though!”

“You got it,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he whispers to Frankie as he passes, slipping through the crowd toward the exit.

You and Frankie are left, two feet apart, filled with silence and resentment.

“You looking for someone else to hand your ass to you, lil Santi?” he asks, tossing another handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” You hand him a smile, which drops the second he looks at it.

But when you turn back to the table and lift the cues, you hand one to him. Push it into his chest, shoot him a narrow-eyed glance.

“One game. And only ‘cause I need a sub.”

He dusts his hands together, shrugs. “Shouldn’t take me too long.”

You stalk back over to Mal, who’s giggling into her glass. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, taking another swig of beer as Frankie lines up.

On his first shot, he pots that same red you were trying to hit before. His eyes lift only for a second, but you catch the cocky look he throws you and screw your face up.

“Fucking…ass,” you whisper.

Frankie’s shoulders jump, his teeth take his bottom lip. He’s laughing to himself when he takes his next shot, and pots another stripe. And then he stands up straight, holds his hands out.

“Just tell me when.”

“When what?”

“To start going easy on you.”

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck you, fuck this. Fuck!

One more ball potted and finally, fucking finally, he misses a shot. It’s an impossible shot, anyway, there’s no way in hell he was gonna make it, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the way you twirl your cue in your fingers, then lift it and wander around the table, squeezing between Frankie and the wooden edge to get to your shot.

Your ass brushes past his jeans, and when you turn your head to whisper a sarcastic Sorry, he fucking growls. Low, almost inaudible. But just enough for you to notice, and enough for you to keep pissing him off.

The buzz you’re getting from antagonizing him this much must awaken some sort of billiards skillset you never knew you fucking had, because you pocket four balls in quick succession. Red, then green, then blue, and purple. There’s one ball between you when Frankie rounds the table, eyes scanning the felt for the next best shot he can take.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you mutter as he passes by you, on his third lap of the table.

He tsks. “Impatient,” he replies, shoulder brushing yours heavily. You feel the rough denim of his jeans graze your thighs, the weight of him against your backside for the second time. You push back, leaning into him as he moves past, then leans over, slinks his cue between his fingers, and takes his shot.

The yellow sails into the nearest pocket like there’s a magnet pulling it. The purple does the exact same – he barely has to tap it with the tip of the cue and it’s dropping in atop its predecessor.

Frankie turns, shimmying a little up the table, hip nudging yours out of the way. “Move,” he mumbles, shutting one eye to aim for the black. “Come on…” he breathes, and then shoots.

It bounces off of the opposite side of the table, thudding off of the cushion before it’s rolling toward the pocket and dropping in with a plunk.

He stands, fixing his baseball cap, and leans the cue against the table. “Good game, loser,” he says, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

“What age are you?” you sneer as he wanders back off to his beer, waiting for him on the table next to his bowl of peanuts.

Will wraps an unsteady arm around your shoulder as Frankie tips his bottle against his lips. He’s swaying, dragging you left and right with him as if you’re on a boat.

“He’s…he’s always been the best outta us all,” Will slurs, using his bottle to point at Frankie. “’s why he’s such a good pilot. Good aim.”

You sigh, pushing his heavy arm off yourself and slip back over to Mal, who hands you a sad smile and fixes your hair.

“It was a good attempt,” she says.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, tossing your bottle up and draining the last of it onto your tongue. “I need another drink.”

You cross the room, suddenly less blurry and tilted, more boring and flat, and lean over the bar. “Nick,” you call, and he twists around, “grab me another–”

“It’s alright, Nick,” a voice yells over your shoulder, “I think she’s good.”

You spin around and it’s that stupid fucking baseball cap and the stupid denim button up again.

“What, I’m not allowed to drink now?”

Frankie’s head cocks. “You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ve had three. Three beers. The fuck is your problem?”

He tuts, glances left and right, and then back to you. “I think I should get you home.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

“Are you this fucking difficult with everyone when you’re drunk?”

“Nope,” you beam at him, “just you.”

He lets go of the grip he has on your arm and starts backing away. “I’m leaving, baby,” he tells you, nodding goodbye to Nick. “You’re either coming, or Pope’s gonna hear all about it.”

You ball your fists, watching the door swing closed behind him. Your feet stay rooted to the ground, eyes flitting from the parking lot over to Mal, who lifts her arms in a question. You shake your head in response, and her shoulders drop.

Sorry, you mouth, beginning to walk off in Frankie’s footsteps.

Mal blows you a kiss, winks once, and then salutes you goodbye. You shoulder out of the bar.

The ride back to your parents’ place is silent, except for the dull drone of whatever fucking music Frankie has choking out of his radio. You watch your hometown pass by, never taking your eyes off of the blurry streetlights or passing mailboxes, refusing to turn your head further than the middle of the windscreen at him.

He’s humming along to the song, jaw swinging as he chews on gum, arm hanging out of his open window. Everything he does is so fucking irritating, like a constant buzzing in your ear, an eyelash stuck in your eye, the feeling of stepping on a wet floor in socks.

So why, every time you do sneak a glance of him out of your peripheral, does the sight of those focused brown eyes, the strands of gray in his beard, the way his curls flick under the brim of his cap – why does it all stir something inside of you?

Frankie pulls up across the street from your house, white wood a milky blue in the moonlight. You unbuckle your seatbelt and let the strap whip off of your body, rattling against the interior of the truck. The most you’re willing to offer him is a nod of the head in thanks, which he returns, and your fingers hook around the door latch.

“Hey, mind if I come in ‘n use your bathroom?” he asks.

You pause. “Uh, yeah. I mind. No.”

“Come on, baby, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

You scoff, ignoring him and slip down out of the truck. The door slams closed and you wander over to your parents’ drive, hearing a second slam as you cross the street.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“If your mom knew you weren’t letting me use her bathroom, she’d kill you, ‘n you know it.”

“My mom doesn’t know you like I know you, asshole,” you retort, but he’s still following you to the front door. “Just – alright. Do me a favor and disinfect it once you’re done. I don’t need them coming home to piss all over the floor.”

“You think my aim’s that bad? Just schooled you in a game of pool.”

You sigh, refusing to rise, and open the door. There’s the gentle scuffing of claws on the wooden flooring, trotting nearer and nearer in the dark hallway, and then the weight of your childhood dog shoves into your body.

“Hi, Angie. Hi, girl,” you whisper, scratching the dog’s white fur, her front paws against your tummy.

She jumps down when Frankie slips in behind you, wandering over with her tail swinging back and forth. He crouches down and holds his hand out, cooing, “Hi, baby,” as she nuzzles against his palm.

“She likes most folks who come by,” you utter, hanging your coat over the banister. “Don’t think you’re special.”

“She always loved me most,” he says, still fussing over the pup, “didn’t you, girl? Yeah, yeah you did.”

You roll your eyes and wander upstairs, leaving Frankie to find the bathroom, use it, and fuck off on his own.

It’s been almost eight years since you last lived here, but your room still looks oddly similar. Same bedframe, different sheets. Same wallpaper, only not covered in posters of your favorite bands. Same shelves, too, just that they hold stuff like vases and seashells and other random ornaments your mom’s picked up, rather than a collection of your favorite movies or framed photos of you and your friends.

You pull your dress over your shoulders and kick your boots off, grabbing a tee from your bag to sleep in. The Nirvana logo lies loose across your chest, the hem dancing along the line of your panties.

As you kneel on the mattress, tossing the million and one fucking pillows your mom has stacked down to the foot of the bed, you hear the door creak open.

“Damn,” Frankie mutters, glancing around the room, “haven’t been in here since I was, what, seventeen?”

“Weren’t welcome then, still not welcome now.”

“You still got that Black Eyed Peas poster rolled up somewhere?” He’s walking in, boots scuffing along the wooden floor.

“Are you lost?”

He looks over to you, stood by the bed, t-shirt barely reaching your thighs. “You know something, you ‘n your brother are so fucking different, it amazes me you’re related.”

“I imagine there’s a lot that amazes you, dumbass.”

He scoffs. There’s a hint of genuine humor in it. Like he’s impressed. And then his eyes scan down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs, shifting up to the pink cotton of your panties. They shoot back up when you speak again.

“Seriously, dude. What are you still doing here?”

Frankie turns to the dresser by the window, adorned with framed pictures of you and Santi as kids. “Making sure you get home alright, like Pope told me to.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I’m home, ‘n I’m alright. So…”

He picks up a silver frame; inside, faded by the sun and years that have passed, lives a photograph of you and your brother. He’s on his BMX bike, wide, toothless grin, and you’re behind him, standing on the pegs and gripping onto his t-shirt sleeves as you battle not to fall off.

Frankie laughs a little, turning the frame to show you. “You were always so fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” And then, with a shake of his head as he sets the frame back down, “Still are.”

You cock your head, throwing your hands up with an infuriated sigh. “If I’m so annoying, then why are you still here?”

The look he gives when he turns back around answers that question for you, in a way that his words never could. Never would, to be honest. He’d never admit the thoughts running through his head right now, same as you won’t admit that, likewise, they’re running through yours.

It’d be fucking weird. It’d be wrong, hooking up with his best friend’s little sister. Santi only asked him to get you home safe, not follow you inside, walk straight into your bedroom, look at you the way he’s looking at you right now, silhouetted by the streetlight shining through your still-open shades.

So then, why can’t he walk away?

You make to step forward, and Frankie’s already moving. He meets you halfway, stood on some fancy-looking rug your mom probably spent too much money on, his arms instantly finding your waist underneath your short tee.

“You fuckin’ piss me off, you know that?”

“I know,” you breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, “I know.”

He pushes you backward, sends you stumbling across the floor on your toes until the back of your calves hit the mattress and you fall, dragging him down on top of you. You knock the baseball cap from his head and run your hands through his brown curls, pulling him nearer as his hands begin to move north under the worn cotton of your shirt.

His rough hands cup your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples as his lips fall to your neck, sucking a bruise into your soft skin.

“Frankie,” you breathe, “what the fuck are we–?”

“Shut up,” he whispers back, teeth grazing over your collarbone. He’s moving down, kissing over your tee as he goes, until he’s kneeling on the floor, your legs dangling off the bed either side of his body.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he presses fleeting kisses to the insides of your thighs, making his way closer and closer to your center, covering ground painfully slow.

“Would you – just – fucking – get there?” you ask, head tilting back with a groan.

“Always so fucking impatient,” he mutters, pulling your legs further apart. “Makes sense, though,” he whispers, finger hooking around your underwear, “already so wet.”

“Dick,” you hiss, laying back flat on the bed.

Frankie holds the lace off of your core and then dips his jaw, lips lightly ghosting across your folds. You hum with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance, ready to buck your hips up to him if it’ll just make him move faster.

But you don’t have to wait a second longer. He licks one broad stripe up your center, pressing one chaste kiss to your clit before his tongue dips where you need him most. Your legs go to clamp shut, stopped by his shoulders.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan, hand coming down to knot your fingers in his hair.

He hums against your pussy, tongue lapping inside you, nose at the perfect angle for you to rut your clit against.

“Fuck…” you repeat, and he fucking laughs against you. “Quit it,” you hiss, and he lifts his head.

Your eyes shoot open, finding his. Alarmed meeting cool.

“Fine,” he says, smirking. “I’ll quit it.”

“Don’t you fucking– Frankie.”

“Your words, baby.” He shrugs, eyes flitting down to your cunt, soaked under his touch.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He looks back up. The corners of his mouth pull his smirk into a grin. Some devilish grin, thick with arrogance.

“I’m an asshole,” he echoes, elastic of your panties shifting up to his knuckles.

He watches your cunt as he does it. Runs two fingers between your folds, coating them in your arousal, dipping them deeper until they’re at your entrance.

Your head hits the bed heavily, your body writhing over the white sheets as he pushes closer and closer. His free hand comes up and pushes down on your tummy, holding you steady to the mattress, then –

“I’m the asshole.”

He inserts his fingers, curled, thick, stretching you out over his hand as he pushes in deep. A gasp passes through your lips, exchanging itself for a throaty moan when Frankie begins fucking you on his hand, lowering his lips to your clit again.

His wrist pumps in and out, tongue swirling over the swollen bud, palm pushing harder into your stomach to keep you from upsetting his rhythm with how badly you want to move around.

Your fingers lock a vice grip around his hair, your hips the only part of your body he’ll let you move. You establish a pace of your own, fucking up to meet his fingers, grinding yourself on his wet tongue.

“I’m close,” you pant, Nirvana logo distorted in ruffles at the base of your neck. “So fucking close, Frankie.”

And he can feel it. Feel you tightening around his hand, feel the rhythm of your hips start to miss beats, move clockwise instead of up and down. He can hear as your mouth stops rounding the words, fading into slurs and breaths and moans instead of coherent language.

“F-Frankie,” you cry out, and it’s like music to his ears. “’m there, I’m–”

“On my mouth, baby,” he mutters, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his lips again, tongue pushing inside you as you fall apart all over him.

Your back lifts from the bed, fists ball around his hair, pushing his face even harder against your cunt as you ride out your high. You’re moaning his name over and over, echoing off the walls of your little room, escaping out the door and swirling around the hallway.

If you could hear yourself, or cared enough to try, you’d feel fucking embarrassed at what you’re doing – coming apart under Frankie’s touch. It’s Frankie.

The same Frankie you started an argument with one Fourth of July over which was better: ketchup or mustard; the two of you spitting insults over the striped tablecloth, obscene hand gestures being thrown up over plates of burgers.

The same Frankie who’d found out it was you who drew on the wall, and from that day on used it as leverage anytime you set a foot out of line. Used it to shut you up, anytime you so much as thought about talking back, or ratting on the boys.

You’re supposed to hate him. Ask anyone – Santi, Mal, your parents. They’ll all say the same. Like cat and dog.

And yet, here you are. Begging him not to stop, keep his hands and his mouth on you; gasping for breath when he eventually lifts away from you and you collapse back into the bed.

You glance down from under heavy lids, watching as he kisses your thighs again, slowly bringing you back to the room. His chin’s glistening, covered in your cum, beard soaked in you.

You slowly sit up, holding yourself steady with two palms pushed into the mattress. Frankie readjusts your underwear and sits back on his heels, running a hand down his chin and wiping himself clean.

“That was…” you pant, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

He just nods, breathing heavy himself. “Yeah.”

“I gotta…I gotta let…Ange out,” you say, words swaddled by your breath.

Frankie nods again. “I should go.”

You stand at the same time, straightening up face to face. His right side is lit warmly by your bedside lamp, the brown of his eye reflecting a tiny yellow orb back at you; the left side is darker, flecks of hair lit in the pale light from the street, face dark and unreadable. Like he’s two different people, split down the middle now, a before and after.

You’re staring at one another, mapping every inch of the other’s face. Learning it, like it’s new. Like you’ve never really seen each other until right now.

And then he’s turning, picking his hat up from the floor in one swooping motion, and walking out of your bedroom. A deep sigh passes your lips as he goes, relief mixed with satisfaction. And then you follow.

Angie circles him when his boots thud down from the bottom step. He bends to give her more attention, waiting for you to softly pad down alongside him. The dog trots off toward the kitchen, and he turns to you.

He’s back to his unphased self, jaw circling around the gum that he’s still fucking chewing. “Two drinks you owe me, now, lil Santi.”

You cock your head. “Hm?”

“One for showing your ass at pool, ‘n another for that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Morales.”

He snorts, wandering off down the hall. You spin on your heel and follow the sound of Ange scraping the back door, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

Frankie meets your eye, and like a reflex, the pair of you toss the finger to one another. He laughs, stepping out onto the porch.

“Anytime you feel like losing again, you know where I am, baby.”

----------

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[multifariousqueer]

Can you write Miles 42 being like really super duper protective and like controls her, he doesn’t let her go out by herself and stuff like that and is like always watching her. They argue about his over protectiveness but he could care less

Ofc babes!!!

warnings: toxic behaivor, miles being annoying, angst, references to robbery and murder, strong language, INCREDIBLY TOXIC BEHAVIOR!!!!!!, brief mention of drinking, lmk if I missed one or two

A/n: Send more miles 42 reqs pls

730 days. Thats how long you were with this man. Thats how long it's been since you got leave the house alone. Miles was very overprotective since his dad died and he saw the world for what it was. Evil and it was filled with nothing but scum. Miles determined that this world wasn't good enough for you and you needed to be "protected" and kept away from this disgraceful universe. So, he took it upon himself to protect the only two things that mattered to him, you and his mom and he did a good job at it.

Miles would walk you to school, work, home and if you needed something, he would be the one to get it for you:

"Miles baby, I can get it myself; its right outside." you pleaded.

"Nah, Mami. I don't want you outside by yourself. People are fucked up and they will hurt you." He said stoically.

"But-" you started

"Cállate, Y/n. Before I make you” he said, stepping closer

You knew Miles well and you knew to stop pressing because he would just shut down and you hated when he shut down. Miles would just put his hand on his braids and kick something before giving you the same speech:

“Y/n you saw what they did to my father, do you want that to happen to you too? Because if I let you go out by yourself, you’re at risk for that to happen and if it does or if anything or anyone touches you, I will kill them; and that’s a promise, Mami. I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you and not bat an eye. Don’t fuck with me, y/n. Stay close. Let me protect you and we will be good. Aight?"

“okay.” you would say. Miles had a way of making you seem two inches tall in these situations.

You never left his side. For two years, he would watch your every move(he put small cameras in your home. You didn’t notice until three months ago); he would take you shopping but never posted about you just in case a villain would use try to use you as his weakness(because lets face it, you’re his weakness), he would kiss you and be sweet in private but he would act hard when anyone else was around.

It was a cold winter’s day when you decided you had had enough. Your friend y/f/n(your friends name) had invited you out to a party. You had never been to one because of Miles but you decided enough was enough and you were gonna go. So you slipped on a small dress, cute heels and a jacket that made your tits look nice and left:

“I’ll be home soon!” You told your parent

“Okay, y/n. Tell Miles I said hi” they exclaimed

“Okay!” You shouted back. They knew how overprotective Miles was but they knew he was a good person overall so they left it alone.

As you walked to hail a taxi, you felt your phone vibrate:

Miles: Wanna go out?

You: No it’s okay, imma just stay in for tonight

Miles: Nah fr. Let me take you out

You looked down and debated answering the text, but ultimately decided not to. You got in the taxi and went to the party when you saw a shadow dash across the roof.

You walked into the party and greeted your friend:

“GIRL OMG YOU LOOK SO GOOD. WHERE’S MILES?” They shouted over the loud music

“He’s not here, it’s just me. Let’s go grab a drink!” You replied

“Oh Okay!!” Your friend said

As you were walking over, you could’ve sworn you saw a man that looked exactly like your boyfriend but he vanished when a man walked past. You brushed it off and grabbed a cup of jungle juice and went to dance. You grinded against your friend who caught it during the beat drop. You were having the time of your life until you checked your phone:

Miles: I know where you are, y/n. Come home or I’m coming there.

Miles: I should’ve known you’d lie to me. You’ve been acting real shady lately, wanting to go out and shit. Just wait till you get home, we’re gonna address this shit immediately.

Miles: I see you

Miles: Stop ignoring me, y/n. You know you fucked up

Miles: Imagine wearing the chrome heart necklace I got you while dancing like a slut on your friend

Your stomach dropped as you surveyed your surroundings, looking for a sign of him. When you couldn’t see him, you hailed a taxi and went home.

You fidgeted and fiddled the whole way home. The driver looked in his rear view mirror at you:

“You good, Mami?"

The name sent shivers up your spine as it was your boyfriends name for you.

“Oh! I’m fine, just cold haha” you laughed it off

The driver turned on the heat and sooner or later you were home.

You approached your doorstep and went to your room. Your parent was asleep and you walked in your room, thinking his threat was empty, until you went to shower and saw him behind the door:

“MILES” you screamed both in shock and horror

“Y/n.” he said, closing the door, encapsulating you both in the small room together

“I’m so sorry-“ you started

“you should be. What did I tell you, y/n? I do all of this shit for your safety but you continue to fight me and pull these stunts” Miles lectured as he closed in on you. Your height difference becoming more and more apparent

“Stunts? Fight? Miles I have been nothing but obedient to you which I shouldn’t even have to do if you treated me like a person instead of an object. That’s all I am to you isn’t it? An object. A doll. Just something you don’t want other people to have or see?” you argued

But your pleas and your confessions meant nothing to the man. He simply looked at you and said:

“yeah, actually.”

“what?” you said

“You are an object to me, you’re something I have to protect otherwise the world will take you from me like they did him.” Miles said, as stoic as ever

“STOP USING YOUR DAD AS LEVERAGE IN THIS, MILES. THIS ISN’T ABOUT HIM, ITS ABOUT YOU AND ME AND IF YOURE JUST GONNA KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY, I’LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE.” You shouted, exasperated and on the verge of tears.

“do it, y/n. I dare you to find someone who will care for you and spoil you as much as I do.” Miles said, briefly breaking his nonchalant nature

“Fine I will!” you said reaching for the doorknob.

You left and put on clothes as you made him leave.

“You’ll be back.” Miles said, nonchalantly

“Fuck you, Miles Morales.” you said

It had been a week and you were sulking and debating getting back with the man when your family and friends told you were doing the right thing:

“I’m glad you left him, y/n. I heard he’s the prowler.” Your parent said

“Yeah I’m glad I left too.” you mumbled

As you were enjoying your fifth night of freedom, you saw a woman get mugged on the street:

“GIVE ME YOUR PURSE NOW LADY” The masked man shouted

The woman did as told and the man escaped but not before looking at you and running in your direction. With Miles, that man would’ve never even had the though to look at you.

You ran as fast as you could until you lost him in an alley behind your apartment. You decided you missed him too much and he was right so you pulled out your phone:

You: Miles you were right. I’m so sorry

Miles: typing...

Miles: its okay, I knew you’d find out soon enough; so what happened, Mami?

You: Some mugger saw me and charged at me and he had a knife

Miles: What did he look like

You: Beanie, knife, blue shirt and black pants

seen

You went home and went to sleep. The next morning you heard the news blaring in the house, along with the smell of bacon wafting through the house

“What happened?” you asked

“some mugger got killed.” your parent said

You had a stinging sensation in your gut and prayed that it wasn’t what it looked like when you heard the woman on the TV:

“It seemed like there were claw marks In his chest and he had been blasted with a ray gun."

Oh God...

You went to text Miles when you saw his text:

“You don’t gotta worry about that guy anymore, Mami. I’ll be at your house at 10.”

[beatrixstonehill2]

"This was me at nineteen versus now at twenty-one..... This sucks so bad! My transition was going so well, I was so pretty, my cock was tiny, my tits were big and full. Men absolutely adored me, I could hardly keep them off me. I miss having so many cocks rammed in my ass every day against my will, it was so hot! Ughhh..... I went to the doctor like normal, they tested my bloodwork and stuff. The doctor remarked that my cock was extremely small. I said I was fine with that and wanted SRS, but he smiled and said he thought I'd prefer it if I got to experience real orgasms with my cock before resorting to something extreme like SRS. He also told me I was very skinny for a trans girl my age and asked why I didn't want to be curvier. I told him I wouldn't mind a big butt and bigger boobs, and he put me on some crazy high dose of estrogen.

I rolled my eyes and agreed, because I'm a true submissive. Well..... after about a month I packed on twenty pounds and my cock was already five inches fully erect and I couldn't keep my hands off it. My balls finally got big and plump. It was so fun to jerk off. I used to need a cock ramming my prostate to cum, and even still, my cock would be flaccid, one inch, and barely ooze out one shot of clear cum. Now I was jerking off eight to twelve times a day, shooting rope after rope of milky white cum like a boy. I loved it SO much! Men loved it, too. They had a nice toy to play with as they fucked my ass. My cock became so red and swollen all the time, I posted pics of it on social media constantly! My parents were also thrilled by all the fun I was having with my cock, encouraging me to masturbate all day and go out to get fucked way less.....

I kept packing on more weight, at least twenty pounds a month. I tried to rationalize that it would taper off, that I wouldn't keep getting heavier. Plus in the short term I was so thick and sexy, and men found me even hotter, despite the fact that I had this huge cock now. Or because of it..... Six months on the new meds and I was about 210lbs, almost doubling my weight, and my cock was about a foot long, thick as my wrist, with two extremely generous testicles, both the size of a lemon. They were so hard to sit with and even walk with at times, but I could cum so fucking hard. Fifteen to twenty huge ropes of cum every orgasm. I'd moan like such a slutty princess every time, whether I was getting fucked at a party or at home, covering myself and my computer area with so much glorious cum, I never bothered washing it off. I loved stinking of it, sitting there, my fat belly jiggling, my boobs bouncing, my thick thighs pushing against my oversized balls.

But it kept getting worse. I got fatter and fatter every month. Now I'm so disgusting. You'd never know I was so sexy a couple years ago, barely any cock at all. Now I weigh almost 600lbs, and I can't stand it. I feel so gross and unsexy. Men want nothing to do with me, I'm just another smelly, fat trans girl who turned into a slob. I'm so fat I can barely walk, I just sit home, never bathing, never doing makeup or trying to look good. My cock is about sixteen inches, buried under loads of fat, my balls feel ready to burst all day. But my doctor recommends I don't jerk off, since my health is so bad and my blood pressure is through the roof.

The medication blew me up like a balloon, I wasn't even overeating, but now I stuff my face since it's one of the few pleasures I can still indulge in, even if it makes me feel even grosser knowing I'm just getting fatter. My cock is so hard all day but my doctor tells me all that excessive masturbation I like has put me at a very high risk of heart attack. Sometimes I'm naughty and push my belly down on my cock as I watch pretty girls on Instagram dance at parties like I used to. Their big tits bouncing, their bellies full of kids as they take shots and get fucked all night. I'm so jealous. My favorite is when I follow a trans girl who's nice and petite, getting fucked every night like a good girl, rubbing her tiny cock, only for a few months to pass, and I see her little cock grow to six inches, shooting thick ropes of cum suddenly. Her boobs get bigger, her thighs and butt get super thick, and she gets a cute belly to form, her pretty face getting round, with a double chin, looking so perfect and sexy. I push my giant gut on my cock knowing in a couple years she'll be just as fat and disgusting as me. I crush my huge cock, as my heart pounds through my chest, I moan and pant, and I finally cum, my chest gets so tight, my pulse feels impossibly fast and I make the biggest mess between my legs. Rope after rope after rope. I'm covered in sweat, feeling like my heart might finally give out, and slowly I settle down, my parents scolding me for cumming, despite how they used to encourage me to jerk off all day.... I know I'm so unhealthy and my heart can't take these heavy orgasms of mine, but it's soooo worth it, even if I am a disgusting pig now. I'm so glad my doctor put me on these meds...."

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in Your Fire pt. 5

At Peace in your Fire pt 5

Summary: Y/n and Eris exchange letters and the high lord’s meeting...

Pairing: Eris/Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 4,500

Warnings: Fluff mostly haha I couldn't bring myself to make it angsty I'm sorry! Not proof read

Notes: Thank you all for waiting and I hope part 5 is worth it!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Eris,

If you so eagerly await my response, I suppose I will take pity on you and make haste in sending my next letter. I am relieved to know that my feelings of curiosity are not one sided and that I did not scare you off with my… outburst during our dance. I would be lying if I said I was not hurt by your abrupt exit and refusal to make eye contact afterward. Has no one ever spoken to you so freely, Heir of Autumn?

My kindest regards,

Y/n

Little dove,

It would be and understatement to say that I’m embarrassed by my actions that night in Hewn City. Truth be told, no. Only my own mother has spoken to me in such a way that made me feel scolded, shameful, and yet… also feel seen. No one has looked at me with such softness. If you truly knew me and the things I have done, you would not look at me like that. You certainly would not be writing to me. But the deeply selfish part of myself will not stop you. I will respond to every letter and lay my soul bare to you in hopes that with your kind eyes you will see something worthy in it. You are the most precious being I have ever met and if all I ever get is a few letters from you and one night of dancing, that will be enough. It may be all of which I am worthy.

Yours,

Eris

Y/n read that letter over and over again. Traced his words with her fingertips and memorized every line. She did not know what it was about him, but she couldn’t get enough of him. It was like her own soul longed for his. There was no reason for this feeling, but it held her in a tight grip. She knew she should not keep him waiting, but she needed to talk to her sister about this. It couldn’t be Feyre; she was already keeping her little crush a secret from Rhys. If she knew Y/n and Eris were sending letters to each other, she would have to tell her mate. So, she went to her sister who would, without a doubt, keep this secret. Nesta.

Y/n quickly found Cassian and asked to go see her sisters at the House of Wind, and he swept her up and flew her over. I should learn to use my wind to learn to fly… Y/n thought as they landed on the roof of the house. Cassian left Y/n to go look for her sister and he walked to the living room to wait for her. He was just happy to have an excuse to not do real work and Rhys couldn’t get mad because he was helping Y/n!

Nesta was exactly where Y/n knew she would be. In the library. “Hey, Nes!”

“Hey flame, how’s it going living with the worst high lord ever and his lackies?”

“Nes…”

“I know, I know, they’ve been great to you and you’re adapting like you always do. I still don’t know where you got that from. It’s not like our parents were fluid or easy going.”

“I don’t know Nes, sometimes what we learn from our parents is what we don’t want to become. Fey and I are the youngest, we got to watch you and Elain learn and make mistakes so we never had to. We were lucky in that way.”

“Yeah. Not in many other ways though.” Nesta looked at her sister with a tenderness only reserved for her and Elain. Y/n wasn’t sure why Nesta and Feyre butted heads so much, but it broke her heart. Something to focus on another time. For now, she was here to ask for advice from her oldest sister.

“Nes, I need to tell you something and it can not leave this room.”

“Like I ever leave this room?”

Y/n chuckled, “fair enough. Okay… you remember Eris?”

“Did he finally grow a pair and send you a letter?”

Y/n balked at her sister’s bluntness. “You know??”

Nesta barked out a luagh, “of course I know! You didn’t see the way he looked at you when you fell unconscious during the meeting. Hell- he caught you before you could hit the ground and looked ready to kill Azriel when he took you from his arms.”

“Wh-what?”

“Oh yeah, he’s like obsessed with you. So what did his letter say?”

Y/n pulled out the letters from Eris and showed them to her sister, also telling her what she had responded.

“Damn, he is way more obsessed with you than I thought. Have you replied to this one?”

“No, not yet. I needed to talk to you about it. What do I do Nes? The rest of the family hates him and thinks he’s a terrible male. They’ve known him for literal centuries, so who am I to say that he’s not bad and tell them they ‘just don’t know him’?”

“I don’t know flame, the way he looked at you that night and the way he’s writing to you, I think it’s worth sending a few more letters back and forth. You know I’m quick to read people, and that look was not the look of someone plotting to take advantage or use you. I think he’s genuine.”

“Okay. Thank you, Nes. Do you have a quill and parchment?”

Eris has been sweating all damn day. Every second alone he got he was practically running to the nearest window to look at the sky in search of a letter. It went on like this until the sun began to set, casting the Autumn Court sky a rich, golden glow. Eris finally returned to his rooms, lit the fire in the hearth and slumped into his chair. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief to finally get some peace and quiet.

A tapping sounded on his window startled him from his thoug. A piece of parchment was impatiently running itself into the glass on a phatntom wind and Eris shot from his chair to stumble over to the window and throw it open. He snatched the letter from the air and felt like the air was sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe as he fumbled the letter open.

Dear Eris,

I want to start by thanking you for your candor and beautiful words. Secondly, I want to appologize for taking my time responding. I wanted to give you a response thoughtful and thorogh enough to encapsulate my true feelings. I want to know you, the real you, desperately. I want to see the good, the bad, and the ugly and to hold space for you to be. I don’t know where that desire comes from, but I feel it. You feel so familiar to me although we have only formally met once. Outside of my sisters you feel like the only right thing in this new world and new life. My kindness is not wasted on you, my dear. You are deserving and you are enough. Let me see your rough edges and I will show you mine.

Tentatively  yours,

Y/n

Eris could have cried reading that letter, but instead he sucked in a deep breath that gave oxygen to the fire burning in his heart. He was trying not to allow himself to hope before, but now… Y/n had shattered all prospect of that. For the first time in a long time, Eris was hopeful. He laughed softly, joyfully, as he wrote back to her.

Little dove,

I can’t tell you how your words have effected me. I will hold onto these letters for all my enteral days and when you finally see me, and realize you shouldn’t associate with me, I will re-read your kind words and dream about a time that you saw me as worthy. Since you want to know me, here are a few small things: I own and care for a pack of hunting dogs, they’re called smokehounds. I tell everyone I don’t have a favorite, but that’s a lie, I do and her name is Willow. She is my oldest hound and has been my companion for many years. Smokehounds live much longer that any human dog, much like us Fae, but they sadly do not live eternal lives. The reason I tell no one that she’s my favorite is because I fear it being used against me. Compassion has always been seen as a weakness and something to exploit by my father and brothers. The next second fact about me is that until very recently, my favorite color was the marage of oranges and yellows of the trees in this court. Now, however, my favorite color is that of your eyes. Your stunning eyes that bless my dreams and every waking moment. I long for the next time I’m lucky enough to be in your presence and catch a glimpse of the gold flecks that litter them and the crease between your brows as you look at me like a puzzle to solve. Now, tell me about you, my dove.

Yours for as long as you let me,

Eris

Dear Eris,

I am at a loss for words. But for you, I will do my best to string some together. I think it’s beautiful that you have a favorite hound. I was never allowed an animal companion, but I always admired the hunters who had hounds to work with them, to share in their victories and comfort them in their losses. Tell me more about Willow. What does she like to hunt? What was she like as a pup? As for my favorite color, my answer is strikingly simlar to yours. Until recently, my favorite color was the deep green of a rain covered forrest. So dark that only the animals that lived there, and those with keen trained eyes could seem through the under brush. But now, my favorite color is the red of your hair that falls so delecately to your shoulders, and even though the rest of you is so sharp and put together, your hair still falls into your face. When I close my eyes to dream, I see your amber eyes and your soft auburn locks, and I dream of bruhsing the strands away form your eyes to look at your fully. Since we are being so honst with each other, I’m not embarassed to say such things. And I want to thank you for making me feel so comfortable to express my thoughts. I have lived so much of my life in silence, only broken by my sisters and not until we were too old to change each other’s ways. Us Archeron’s are stubborn ladies and we like to handle things on our own. I am grateful that after our mother died, we learned to lean on each other. It sounds like you have a much different relationship with your brothers… Tell me about that. If youre comfortable of course. I am growing rather fond of exchanging these letters.

Y/n

Little dove,

Please, never be embarassed for speaking your truth. I find you so refeshing and lovely. I have not felt this way for someone before. I am known for being cruel and ridgid and unyeilding, but you, Dove, have made me soft in a way I didn’t know I was capable of, and it feel so strange because I hardly know you at all. I have known your dear sisters to be stubborn, and I’m ammused to know it is a family trait. What was your mother like? Your father? My brothers are terrible and vile. All but my youngest, Lucien. I tried to protect them form my father’s corruption, but I failed them. Baron’s cruelty knows no bounds and he will go to any extreme for complete submission. My mother is the only light in this dark house and I have watched that light slowly dim my whole life. It scares me greatly. I am glad to hear that you found a support system in your sisters. That is a beautiful thing and something to be admired. You asked about Willow, and to answer, she has been with me for one hundred and fifty-seven years. Smoke hounds rarely make it past one-hundred and fifty. She has exceeded my expectations year after year since the day she was born. Her mother wandered off during a winter storm to give birth. When I went out to the den to check on her the next morning, I saw the trail of blood in the snow. I followed it straight to where she had curled up under a low tree branch and found all the puppies dead. All but Willow. The brave girl started barking at me to protect her falled family. She even bit me as I picked her up to tuck into my cloak. She warmed up to me as soon as we were inside by the fireplace. She has been my shadow since then. No longer hunting with me, but lays at my feet in my office and sleeps at the foot of my bed. If the maids have ever noticed the hair she’s left behind, they havent told anyone. Somehow, she knows that when we are outside of my bedchambers, I have to wear a mask of annoyance and indiffernece to her. She has never taken it personally and never loved me any less. I dread the day I lose her, my dearest friend.

Yours,

Eris

Y/n’s POV

Weeks pass in a blur while Y/n and Eris exchange letters daily, each of them still going about their regular duties and responsibilies. Y/n, continuing her training with Cassian and Azriel, strengthening her magic with Rhysand, and furthering her education of Prythian’s history with Amren. She also found plenty of time to spend time with Nesta at the House of Wind, occasionally Eris’ letters found her there and she could talk to her oldest sister about their growing relationship, giggling like a little girl. Y/n had never been in love before, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it felt a little something like this.

While she trained and learned, the rest of the Inner Cirlce was preparing for a High Lord’s meeting that would be cunducted in the Dawn Court. It would be the first time Feyre and Rhys would see Tamlin since Hibern, and Tarquin since they betrayed him. It would also be Y/n’s first time seeing Eris. And though she knew they would likely not even be able to make eye contact more than once, she was giddy at the chance to be in the same room as him.

They would be leaving in the morning for Dawn, and Y/n couldn’t sleep. So she sent a letter to Eris.

Dearest Eris,

I fear I can not sleep, for my body is alight with excitement. Excitement to see a new court, yes… but truthfully, the root of my excitement is getting to see you. Even if we cant be as close as I wish for us to be, I look forward to catching your burning gaze once or twice. Promise you’ll space me a glace?

Yours,

Y/n

My Dove,

I promise. I must tell you that it will be quite the struggle not to stare at you for the entirety of the meeting. My soul calls to yours and I fear being in such close proximity will test my strength greatly. If you would allow me such a gift, I would like to meet you after the meeting. Long after everyone has gone to their own chambers, I would desperately like to meet you in the hallway. Hold your gentle, caloused hands, stare into your captivating eyes, and take in your intoxicating scent. I’m willing to beg for it.

Wholly yours,

Eris

Dearest Eris,

I eagly await tomorrow’s arrival.

Yours,

Y/n

Y/n hardly slept a wink the rest of that night and was startled awake by Cassian banging on her door.

“Y/n!! Wake up! Everyone’s ready to winnow out of here and you’re holding us up!”

“Coming!!” Luckily, Feyre had already helped her pack and set out a dress for the meeting. The Dawn Court was warmer than Night, but not as hot as Day. The dress they selected had long sleves but was made of a gossimer type fabric that flowed around her as she rushed around the room getting herself together. They allowed her to stay out of the shades of black that this court is known for, and instead she dawned a dress of greys and whites. Like a cloud of smoke. Dainty red flats aroned her feet, swallowed by the skirt of the gown. Her own secret piece of Eris.

Y/n ran down the hallway and slid ot a halt, tossing her gab at Rhys. “Catch!”

Rhys opened a portal to the pocket dimension inches away from his face where the bag was aimed. “Nice try Y/n. Your aim is improving.” Patting her on her shoulder and smiling at her with a small gimler of pride. “Ready to go?” Rhys raked his eyes around the room and with a nod from everyone, they partnered up and winnowed to the Dawn Court.

Dawn was stunning. Y/n had expected nothing less. She had asked Amren all about it during their history lessons, and Eris of what he knew of it through their letters. The tall ceilings and elegant art work hanging from the walls had her in a state of awe. That awe multiplied ten-fold when Eris walked in with his court. His father entered first, not bothering to look at anyone other than the other High Lords essembled. Eris was right behind him, wearing a calm, bored expression. His brothers entered next, all wearing sneers and sinister grins looking right to the inner circle. Their father didn’t bother to check them. But Eris did. A step behind his father, Eris murmered, “Enough,” and his younger brothers fell into line. All three of them. Eris kept his promise, and spared Y/n a glance. His eyes softened and those pools of molten gold swept her away. Suddenly and without warning, her heart stopped beating and a golden thread was pulled tight between them. His eyes widened inperceptibly as that golden thread snaped.

Mate.

The rest of the meeting was a disaster and no real consesus was drawn. Everyone decided to reconvene the next morning and Thesan was kind enough to house them all for the night. Y/n and Eris had somehow managed to wordlessly decide to put up a glamour to hind the scent of the mating bond, and they hardly made eye contact. The only times they did were when Eris let a tiny bit of fear slip down the bond whenever Baron started to get riled up. It took all of Y/n’s power to stay still when Azriel lunged across the table to attack him. Eris had called Mor a slut, so Y/n couldn’t say she was surprised, but she wished he didn’t have to make it so hard to prove to people that he was a good male.

After much deliberation with the inner circle back in their wing of the castle, Rhys finally sent everyone to bed. Y/n made the excuse that she was going to make more tea before going, and with hugs from Feyre and Rhys, and bids goodnight from Mor, Az and Cassian, Y/n was finally alone. She was serious about the tea, and when it was thoroghly steeped, she grabbed the two mugs and used her magic to create air cushions to silnce her foot steps and padded down the grand hallway. Out of her formal gown, Y/n wore a chocolate brown sweater and loose grey pants. The pants were so long, they once again covered up her little red slippers.

When she reached the private garden for this wing of the castle, she sat down on the edge of the fountain to wait for Eris. Her mate.

Eris’ POV

Baron was snoring almost as soon as they reached their wing of the elaborate castle. It was his brothers that he had to wait out. When they had their fill of the liqour Thesan had left in the rooms, they went to their bedchambers to sleep it off. As Eris was sneaking toward the door that would lead him to the rest of the castle’s hallways, his mother stepped in front of him. “Where are you going my dear?’

“Mother, I have to go, I will explain later. Please, excuse me-“

“Are you going to see her? The one you’ve been exchanging letters with?”

“How-“

“Eris, my darling boy, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t notice my own son was in love?”

“She’s my mate, mother.” Eris’ voice was barely audible, and the crack in it made a tear roll down the Lady of Autumn’s cheek.

“My love, I am so happy for you. Go to her. Tell me everything when we are home and safe from unwanted ears.” She cupped her son’s cheek and gave him a quick kiss to the other before turning away and walking back toward her own room.

Eris let out a shaky breath and went out the door. Once he was standing in the hall, he opened his side of the bond. He sent cautious optomism down it that was returned with reasurance and hope. He followed that tug all through the winding halls until he was stood before the gateway to the garden.

He saw her before she saw him, and he took the moment to appreciate her in this place. No longer dolled up, but comfortable in her too-large sweater. And with her leg propped up on the bench, her chin resting on her knee, he could see the firey red slippers she had on. That alone made a stream of love shoot down the bond involuntarily, and Y/n gasped as she looked up to see him standing just on the otherside of the gate. The love that came back to him just about made his knees buckle.

Wasting no more time, he threw the gate open and took quick long strides until he was towering over her. Slowly, Y/n stood to close the distance between them. They were so close that with every breath, their chests touched. Tentatively, slowly, Y/n moved her hands to hold his, and brought each of them to her lips to kiss the tops of them. Eris wasn’t breathing. And it wasn’t Y/n magic that stole the air from his lungs, it was just her. Using all his strength, he looked her in the eyes and saw his own soul mirrored in hers.

“Hello, my dove.” Eris spoke just above a whisper.

“Hello, my mate.” Y/n eyes shone with hope and awe, but the slight furrow in her brows gave away her confusion.

“Mate.” Eris blew out a breath and said, “I am sorry it had to be me.”

The wrinkle between her brows deepened. “Don’t do that. Don’t say that.”

Eris smiled slightly, “It’s true, my dear. You’ve been cursed. Must have to do with the whole ‘cauldron made’ thing.”

“Eris, I am not sorry. I wanted it to be you so badly. You are the only thing that makes sense in this new body, in this new world. I want it to be you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Eris tried to stop the self-depricating thoughts that flooded his mind, but he couldn’t get a grip on them. He was wrong and wicked and bad. And she was so good and kind and beautiful. The Mother made a mistake and he had to protect this delicate female before him or this world, he, would ruin her.

Y/n let go of his hands and he thought he might die. But then she moved them to cradle his jaw in her small, cold hands, and his mind went silent. The world seemed to stand still as she forced his eyes to meet hers once again.

“I want you. I want to continue to lay my soul bare to you and for you to do the same. That is all I am asking. Let me decide. I have been able to decide so little in my life, so please do not take that from me. If you decide for me that you are not worthy, I do not think I could bare it. I think this is the closest I’ve ever come to being in love and now that this- this bond has snapped, I can hardly stand being two feet away from you. I feel as though there is one too many of us; the seperation into two bodies is unbareable.”

Eris reached his right hand to cup her cheek, and the left to wipe away the stray tears that fell down her lovely face.

“I only understand your feelings because I feel them too, but I can not understand how I could ever be deserving of such a mate. I am quite choked with tenderness for you, my love, it makes me a bit pathetic to love you so much. What a privilege it is to matter to you. My mate.” Bless the bond for not allowing him to think for a minute that her feelings were not true. He could feel her senserity and it was now her turn to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I never, in my 500 years, thought that I would have a mate. I was resigned to the fact that one day, my father would find some poor female to wed me to and we would live a sad, lonely life together. To have found you now, after all these years, Y/n, you don’t understand what a gift you are. A bright light in a very dark, long tunnel.”

“Eris?”

“Yes, dove?”

“Will- will you kiss me please?”

He wasted no time. The kiss started passionate and heated and desperate. Grabbing each other’s faces and clothes, trying to clawl into the same skin. But slowly, the kissed turned gentle and loving and kind. The kind of kiss that two people who have spent a lifetime together share. A kiss of knowing and familiarity, because after all, they are two halves of the same coin.

Taglist: @abysshaven @myromanempiree @lilah-asteria @96jnie @ivy-34 @minaethrym @nebarious @anxious-study @slytherintaco @talesofadragon @paleidiot @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @tenebrisirae @st4r-girl-official @idkwahr @anyzandy

[littlejuicebox]

Bruised.

Summary: School is not going well for Gale. Astarion and you rush to pick up your child after an unfortunate event leads to his injury. This is really just a little bonus blurb to the other piece I posted earlier today titled “Camping for beginners.”

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, Astarion being Astarion, parenthood, childhood, school bully, injury to a child, minor angst, this is unedited so there may be grammatical errors etc

Traffic on Wyrm’s Crossing is at a standstill. The two of your are in the carriage, rushing to pick up Gale after a sending spell announced recess went terribly wrong. Your eldest was injured by another child.

“Gods below, can we go any faster?” Astarion complains before sticking his head out the window and pounding angrily on the roof of the carriage to catch the driver’s attention. He barks an order and then ducks back inside the caravan just as the vehicle is forced into high speed.

Wyrm’s Crossing isn’t particularly long, but in this moment, it feels like the crossway between you two and your son’s school is further than a mere 2000 feet.

You sigh as you attempt to placate your husband, “Astarion, we have to try and be reasonable when we walk in, we can’t—“

“Reasonable!” Astarion hisses with a wry laugh, turning to look at you for the first time since you two rushed into the carriage, “Is it reasonable, darling, that our son has been attacked for the second time this year?”

“Of course not! But we have to—“ You start, but your husband cuts you off with a seething glare. You are not at all used to being on the receiving end of his vitriol; it’s shocking.

“I wanted tutors, but you insisted it would be good for Gale to be with other children closer to his age and look how bloody well that’s going, Tav!” He snaps, his hand slamming against the side of the carriage again in his rage.

That stung. Tears begin to well in your eyes as a reaction to your husband’s cutting remark.

Astarion groans and then pinches the bridge of his nose with a leather-gloved hand as he works to regain control over his emotions. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before opening his eyes and looking at you, “I’m sorry, my love. That was unfair. I just— gods, let’s just get Gale and take care of this.”

You nod, still blinking away tears and unable to say anything further as you turn your face away from your husband and gaze outside the carriage window.

Astarion closes his eyes and chastises himself as he leans back into the carriage seat. The rest of the journey is made in silence.

*

When the two of you enter the headmaster’s office, you immediately spot Gale holding an ice bag over his eye. Astarion rushes to inspect the six year old and instantly fills with wrath, spinning on his heels to address the headmaster.

“Who did this, Alaric?” Astarion questions, stepping far too closely to the half-elven headmaster and jabbing an accusatory finger into the man’s chest, “Who did this under your watch?”

Headmaster Alaric Frostborne is no stranger to upset parents; he’s been in charge of the school for nearly fifty years. The half elf calmly holds his ground as he addresses Astarion, explaining he does not know who gave Gale a black eye but is working to find out.

You pull your six year old into your lap and help him hold the ice pack against his eye as you whisper a healing spell. The damage is done, and surely the school nurse has already used more than one healing potion, but you do it regardless. It might not help heal the bruising past this point, but you hope it will at least comfort your child.

In the safety of your lap, Gale finally begins to cry. The tears are silent, apart from the occasional sniffle, and you pull your eldest tightly against you, whispering words of comfort into his ear. He continues to weep as his father speaks to the headmaster.

“This is the second time this year, Alaric. I am sure I don’t need to remind you that my wife’s name is on an entire wing of this school,” Astarion continues, far too measured for the rage boiling inside as he spits his words at the headmaster, “So unless the Ancunins are to pull the donations you so desperately solicit from us each year, I suggest you work harder to fix this issue.”

Astarion turns and reaches for your son, knowing himself well enough to realize that if he does not leave the situation now, Alaric Frostborne will have a shiner matching Gale Ancunin’s.

You release the boy from your grip, allowing your husband to hoist the child into his arms and carry him out of the office. You watch through the window as two silver-haired heads enter the carriage.

You stand and linger for a moment longer, turning your cool gaze to Alaric as you assess him.

“I am a patient woman, Headmaster Frostborne,” You begin, your arms coming to cross your chest, “And perhaps viewed as more kind and less reactive than my husband… so let me be explicitly clear here. Should this problem continue, I will have you removed from your role faster than a Leviathan swims. Because should this matter continue, you’re clearly unfit to keep the students of this school safe. Understood?”

Alaric nods, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Is that a yes, Alaric? Am I clear?” You press, your eyes narrowing at the half-elf as you struggle to control the growing anger inside your own body. Sparks of magic threaten to fly from your hands before you regain control over yourself.

“Yes, Counsellor Ancunin. Crystal.” The headmaster responds, “We will continue our investigations until the matter is resolved.”

You nod but do not say anything further before you exit the headmaster’s office and breeze out of the school to rejoin your husband and son.

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader who is the daughter of Jason or Billy, and he has a lot of power in Hawkins, Reader hates how his dad is and she starts dating Eddie but her dad doesn't approve that, but she's older and she can decide for herself who to date? (Can you please do it angst to fluff?)

On my knees for older! Eddie fics. I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3

I added a little bonus angst at the end but still a happy ending. Little bits of smut talk because I have no self control.

I'm writing this as my boyfriend watches Spencer Reid instead of me who's on face time (naked)

Trailer trash hero

⚠️mentions/action of abuse

Y/N hated that everyone in town associated her with her dad, Jason Carver. He was the mayor of Hawkins and Y/N did not fit the look that her family had.

She resented her father, he criticized everything she did and always demanded more from her. She was sick and tired of it. After one huge argument, she went out to the bar, her fake ID never failed her and she prayed it didn't fail her today. Even if it did, she knew the owner and could easily get herself in. She was almost twenty-one anyway. A few months barely made a difference. She was sick of living under her father's roof. She needed a drink to take off the edge.

She sat on the small stool and ordered a drink. She took her time to slip on it slowly as her eyes looked around the bar. Her eyes caught a pair of brown that were staring right at her.

That was the night she met Eddie Munson.

~~~

After that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the handsome older man who talked to her all night long. His strong jaw, aged eyes, and deep voice. She kept going back to that bar, praying he'd be there. And he always was.

It didn't take long for them to start flirting and going on dates. Texting through all hours of the night. He was older, and mature. She couldn't lie, it turned her on. She was tired of boys, but Eddie? He was a man. And he fucked her way better than she's ever had.

After a few months, it became more serious. She admitted she was only twenty and still lived at home, but he didn't care. They spent night after night at his house, rolling her eyes through the lecture of her parents when she came home the next morning. But nothing stopped her from doing it again and again.

"We've been going out for almost a year, don't you think I should meet your parents?" Eddie asked, his face nuzzled in her neck, his slight facial hair tickling her as he laid on her. Her hands played with his long hair and scratched his neck slightly.

"Eddie, I love you and I love everything about you. But they are going to hate you." She laughed, Eddie rolled his eyes and removed himself from her neck. Looking up at her with a small smile.

"Even if they do, at least I know I made the effort." He said, even though he was in his forties, he knew how to use his puppy eyes.

"I'm scared." She admitted quietly. Eddie turned his head confused, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's just, my dad...he has a lot of power in this shitty town and he could easily tear us apart. I love you and I don't want him to ruin this for us." She explained, Eddie watched as the tears welled in her eyes. He quickly sat up and took her head in his hands, pecking her lips softly.

"No one would ever keep me away from you. I love you and I'm not going to let anyone stop us, okay? Let's just try. And if it goes south, we don't worry about it. We'll do us."

Somehow Eddie convinced her and as she held his hand as they walked up to her front door, she regretted it.

"Hey, look at me. We'll do this together." He smiled, squeezing her hand as he knocked on the door.

"Just be polite." She warned.

As the door swung open, Eddie found himself looking in the past.

"Mom!" Y/N cheered, letting go of Eddie's hand as she wrapped her arms around her.

"Eddie!" Chrissy panicked, seeing the tall and older man over her daughter's shoulder.

"Chrissy, what a surprise," Eddie said, awkwardly scratching his head as he took her in. He was dating Chrissy's daughter, how the fuck did he get himself in this position.

"You know each other?" Y/N asked, looking between the two as they stared at each other.

"Yeah, he was a high school friend. What is he doing here?" Chrissy asked, praying he wasn't the guest Y/N asked to bring.

"He's my boyfriend, and he wanted to meet you guys," Y/N said, now feeling even more nervous about the situation. Her parents went to the same high school if Chrissy knew Eddie....her father did.

"I had no idea she was your daughter." Eddie clarified, holding his hands up in surrender as he cringed under Chrissy's familiar glare.

"He's going to murder you, Munson," Chrissy warned but welcomed him in. She always liked Eddie, but Jason was never a fan.

"Is he home yet?" Y/N asked, she knew this was a bad idea. Maybe they had time to run and hide.

"He's on his way. And he already is unhappy knowing you have a boyfriend that you spend the night with...and once he knows it's Eddie Munson that you are sleeping over with, he's going to flip. But I will try my best to keep him collected." Chrissy said. But she tried to treat him like he was just her daughter's boyfriend.

"Well I'll set up the table while you show Eddie around," Chrissy said, walking towards the kitchen. Smiling Eddie immediately reached for Y/N's hand as they began their tour of the house.

Y/N showed Eddie around, trying to cover the portraits of her on the wall.

"I am not surprised Chrissy put you in a beauty pageant, and I'm not surprised you won." Eddie laughed, looking at the small girl in the frame.

"Careful Eddie, that little girl is definitely underage." Y/N joked

"Yeah, but luckily this one isn't." He smirked, giving her ass a small smack when she turned. As they looked at more pictures and ended up in her bedroom, she was dying to ask.

"Did you get along with either of my parents?"

"Your mom was cool with me. But your dad hated me, and I'm sure that hasn't changed. He made my life hell." Eddie explained, and Y/N felt bad. She knew her father was a pain in the ass and it sucked to know he treated Eddie so poorly.

"Well, I hate him too. And honestly, I'm glad he's going to hate you. Because he'll forever have to live with the fact that his precious daughter is fucking the bad boy from his high school." Y/N smirked, crawling on his lap, her soft bed underneath them as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mhhm I agree," Eddie moaned as she sucked on his neck, "he's going to throw a little bitch fit. He thought I'd do nothing with my life. But seeing you with me, definitely proving him wrong."

"He's going to be rude and an ass. But don't let him get in your head. You're amazing, handsome, successful, and can achieve anything. Don't listen to him." She explained, moving away from his neck to kiss his lips.

"Definitely gonna listen to the one who will be sucking me off tonight." He smirked, his hand around her throat as he held her close to him. Kissing her hard as she moaned against him.

"Y/N!" Chrissy yelled from downstairs, Y/N pulled away from Eddie, kissing him softly, then moving off of his lap. She grabbed his hand and took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Eddie asked, kissing her forehead as she nodded.

"Mhhm, so is the hickey." She said smirking.

Y/N walked down the stairs, Eddie behind her as he followed close. The front door was empty so she walked into the kitchen. Her parents sat at the dining table as she walked up.

"Dad, this is Eddie. My boyfriend." She watched as her dad looked up, anger filling his eyes as he stood up.

"Jason, be nice," Chrissy warned but it was too late, Jason was already storming towards them. He harshly yanked Y/N away, her hand removed from Eddie's as she yelped. Eddie looked at her, but she nodded that she was fine. Her father's grip was tight on her wrist.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you freak," Jason growled, but Eddie stood his ground.

"Now Jason, is that any way to talk to a guest? Especially one that is your daughter's boyfriend?" Eddie teased, but his teasing only made Jason's grip become more bruising.

"You are not dating my daughter. I don't know what kind of sick game you are playing. But she isn't going to be your little game piece."

"I didn't even know she was your kid until I got here. This isn't some sick game of revenge. Y/N isn't a game piece. We are in a relationship, a committed and loving relationship. You aren't ruining this for us." Eddie explained, his eyes on Jason but flickering to his grip on Y/N.

"There isn't a relationship. She is never seeing you again. Y/N get upstairs, you are grounded." Jason barked, his eyes turning to her.

"Jason, calm down." Chrissy tried

"NO! I'm an adult and you can't ground me. I'm not breaking up with him!" Y/N argued, trying to yank her wrist away but his grip was too tight.

"YES YOU ARE! Get upstairs, NOW!" He screamed in her face. Eddie didn't like the way Y/N was shaking.

"Let go of her." Eddie barked, Jason's head snapped to him.

"You don't tell me what to do."

"You're hurting her, let her go," Eddie growled, moving closer slowly.

"DON'T COME NEAR US!" Jason's grip was somehow tightening.

"Dad, please. You're hurting me." Y/N pleaded, tears in her eyes as her wrist burned.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, his attention on her as he gripped her tighter. "I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND YOU NEVER RESPECT ME. YOU GO OUT TO BARS, SLEEPING WITH GOD KNOWS WHO. I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE A SLUT!"

"I'M NOT! EDDIE IS THE ONLY GUY I'VE BEEN WITH SINCE HIGH SCHOOL!" she yelled back. Chrissy cried as she tried to scream for them to stop. She worriedly looked at Eddie, he was slowly moving closer.

"AND ONLY LOW-LIFE SLUTS HAVE EVER GONE OUT WITH TRAILER TRASH EDDIE MUNSON!"

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM! HE ISN'T TRASH. HE'S A DAMN GOOD GUY, HE HAS HIS OWN COMPANY, AND HE HAS A BEAUTIFUL HOUSE. A HOUSE WHERE WE FUCK EVERYWHERE. HELL, WE EVEN FUCK IN PUB-"

The room fell silent when Jason's hand raised and went across Y/N's face. The loud smack echoed as Eddie raced to yank Jason away.

"NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE A DISRESPECTFUL SLUT! YOU DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. AND YOU ARE BANNED FROM SEEING HIM! GET OFF OF ME!"

Y/N sobbed as she felt the heat on her cheek, embarrassed of the way her father reacted in front of her boyfriend. Chrissy raced to Eddie and Jason, trying to get them apart.

But Eddie wasn't calm, and he wasn't ever going to be calm around Jason. Eddie tackled Jason to the floor, his fist connecting with Jason's nose. Jason yelled in pain and punched Eddie back. The two were rolling around and landing punches on each other.

"JASON! STOP!" Chrissy begged, screaming as she tried to yank Jason's arm while he was on top of Eddie.

"Y/N HELP!" her mom screamed, Y/N quickly raced to them, and Jason tackled Eddie into the table, both crashing through the glass. Both groaned in pain, Y/N raced to Eddie's side, not caring about the glass as she kneeled right next to him.

His face was bloody, and bruising. She cupped his face as she ran her thumb over his skin. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." She sobbed, and Eddie groaned as he grabbed her hand.

"Baby, the glass. Careful." He moaned as he tried to shift. But his body ached everywhere.

Jason didn't take much of the fall since he landed on Eddie. Quickly rising to his feet he grabbed Y/N by her arm to drag her away. Her legs scraped against the class as she cried out in pain.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Eddie screamed, all his adrenaline helping him race to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Jason's waist he threw them both to the ground. Eddie's hand wrapped around Jason's throat, squeezing as the anger rushed over his body.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Chrissy screamed, terrified as she shook but raced to Y/N. She carefully picked her up, but Y/N pushed her off. She used all her strength to race to Eddie.

"BABY! STOP! YOU'LL KILL HIM" she panicked. Eddie snapped his eyes to her, taking in her red cheek, with Jason's handprint, and her bloody legs as the cuts bled. It only angered him more.

"He hurt you" Eddie growled, squeezing Jason's neck harder as Jason clawed at his grip.

"I KNOW! I KNOW. BUT THINK! YOU'LL GET LOCKED UP IN PRISON!" Y/N tried to reason with him, slowly moving closer as she begged Eddie to let Jason go.

"Just like your dad" Jason choked out from under Eddie's grip. Eddie glared down at him but removed his hand. Jason gasped for air as he tried to shove Eddie off of him.

Eddie grabbed Jason by his shirt collar, nose to nose as he growled down at him. "I will never be like him. You are so lucky I love your daughter enough to not kill you right here, right now. If you ever touch her again, you won't be so lucky." Dropping Jason his head smacked against the floor, passing out.

Eddie stood up and Y/N raced into his arms. "I got you, baby" Eddie cooed as she sobbed into his chest. Her breathing was uneven as she panicked.

"I'm so sorry" Chrissy apologized, sobbing as she watched Eddie hold her daughter.

Eddie didn't say a word, carefully grabbing Y/N in his arms as he carried her to the door.

"EDDIE!" Chrissy yelled after them, but he kept going, opening the door as he carried her out. But Chrissy raced after them.

"PLEASE!" She screamed again. But Eddie ignored her, placing Y/N softly in his passenger seat. He buckled her and softly kissed her lips.

"Stay right here. I'm going to pack you a bag, we'll go to the hospital, and then we'll go to my house. Okay?" He said softly, she nodded as she rested her head against the seat.

Eddie shut the door and walked right into Chrissy. "Please, I just want to say goodbye." She begged.

"Did you let him do it before?" Eddie asked, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. Chrissy shook her head confused as she tried to look over his shoulder to see Y/N.

"Have you let him touch her before?" Eddie asked again, this time more demanding.

"No! He's never done that." Chrissy confirmed, Eddie sighed and let her go, racing into the house to pack Y/N's belongings. He grabbed everything he could, making sure he grabbed the things he heard her talk about the most and her favorite clothes.

By the time he made it out to his van, Chrissy was saying goodbye. Tears down her face as she kissed Y/N's head.

"I have to get her to the hospital," Eddie said as he threw the bags in the back. Chrissy nodded and stepped back, her hand grabbing Eddie's arm before he could leave.

"Take care of her, please."

"Always have and always will," Eddie promised, slamming the door shut. He started the van and took off towards the hospital.

"How are you feeling, baby?" He asked, looking over at her as she smiled at him.

"Told you it was a bad idea." She said, a teasing smile on her bruised face.

"...yeah. I should just always listen to you." He teased back, his soft hand landing on her thigh as he rubbed it softly.

"Listen to the one who's gonna suck you off." She repeated his words from earlier with a giggle.

"I love you." He said, smiling at her as he turned to get on the highway.

"I love you too, my hero." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Eddie pulled up to the hospital, carrying her in as he explained the situation. The nurses and doctors worked on her as Eddie got checked out for his cuts and bruises. He waited impatiently until he was able to see her.

"You can see her now." Eddie raced into her room at the news, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

"I'm all good! A few stitches from the glass but otherwise we are good to go!" Eddie nodded and helped her stand up, making their way out to his van.

"Ready to go to my place?" He asked, opening the door as she slid in.

"Let's go home, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[asonofpeter]

Rebuild

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Everything falls into shambles as Kord tries to get the scarab from Jaime. When will it be time to rebuild?

Warnings: mentions of death and depictions of violence, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Part 3? Yes it is! I saw Blue Beetle for the second time yesterday with my parents and they liked it! My brother saw it with his gf and he related so that's a win in my book! Also got more inspo for this part so I hope you enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“There’s a way to get it out,” Rudy said and your ears perked in anticipation but his next words made your blood rush cold. “You’d have to be dead though”.

“What? What do you mean?” Jaime shook his head, fear casting over his gaze.

“Look, chamaco, the scarab is fusing to every cell in your body,” he pointed at the monitor and you watched as it practically covered everything in sight. 

What happened before is happening to your Jaime. 

You pressed your mouth into your palm, trying to contemplate it all. You stayed silent, not wanting to incite a reaction from your boyfriend just as he was already having a meltdown. 

“This isn’t fair! Why does this always happen to us? I just wanted to get a job!” he exclaimed sorrowfully. “This wasn’t supposed to be my future,” he exhaled, glancing at you briefly. 

It was brief but you knew all of his concerns at that moment. 

Were you going to be able to be together? Did you want to love an android alien? Even if you did, are you able to? What if you wanted kids? Was he going to be able to give you that future without fucking it up? What about everything that comes before and after? What now? 

He stormed off after yelling at Rudy, saying he needed to go on a walk. Wanting to chase after him, you ignored that feeling, knowing this conversation was one he needed to hear from his uncle. 

Giving it a brief moment, you went upstairs, Jenny following you as you knew where he went.

“Do you hear that?” Jenny stopped you as you made the stairs to the roof. 

You furrowed your brows, glancing up and hearing a low rumble. Making it onto the roof, you saw the purple lights signaling a Kord helicopter. 

“They’re going home,” Jaime realized. “I gotta get over there,” he said. “I’m gonna fly,” he jumped, hyping himself up.

“You got this, baby,” you encouraged him, clapping your hands together. 

“Woo!” he jutted his fists in the air but nothing appeared. “Okay, hang on,” he sighed, repeating the actions as before.

“Take your time,” Jenny reassured.

“Maybe you gotta force it out,” Rudy said nonchalantly. 

“Wait, you’re a genius, Rudy!” Jaime grinned, stepping off the bench and walking backward. 

“I know, what I’d say?” he furrowed his brows just as Jaime started running towards the ledge.

“Wait, Jaime!” you screamed as he jumped over but thankfully Khaji-Da made herself known. 

“Woohoo!” he cheered, flying towards Edge Keys. 

You don’t think you’re ever getting used to that.

~

Rudy pulled up in front of the house and your heart broke. Flames blazing out the windows and up the walls, ashes falling down to the lawn, and then your family crowded on the sidewalk came into your vision.

“Apa! No!” Milagro cried out, you and Rudy running over to help.

“Papi!” a familiar voice cried out and you turned your head to see Jaime being dragged into the helicopter. He was trapped by some device, causing him pain. You wanted to run after them, get your boyfriend back, but the chances you had standing against Kord and her bodyguard? 

You admitted defeat and went back to running towards your family. You stopped a few steps ahead of you, breath hitching at the sight.

Alberto was unconscious on the ground, face pale. He had another heart attack. 

Dropping to your knees next to Nana, you let the tears pour out as you stared at the man who loved you like your father never had. He was the man who looked out for you, who provided for you, the one who accepted you and welcomed you into his home after everything you lost. 

Clutching to what you had left, you tried to drown out the cries of Jaime and everyone else. You tried not to pay attention to the piercing headache that’s been aching at you for the last few hours nor the sting in your eyes from the lack of sleep. 

You wanted to focus on the silence, the light, something to tell you that all of this is a dream. You’d wake up from your nap, greeting Jaime and congratulating him on his job, and then you would get ready for work again and Jaime would walk you but you’d be against it since he has a big day tomorrow. 

But every time you opened your eyes, nothing changed. 

~

You stared blankly at the rubble before you bent down to pick up the family photo. You remembered the day.

It was a month after you had officially moved in. Your side of the room was claimed, you had a seat at the dining table, and you had your list of chores to get done. But something was still missing…

“Necessitamos una nueva foto,” Nana had stood in front of the old family photo. A picture of a younger everyone—Jaime looked so cute. “Ya, Y/N es una parte de la familia,” she gestured towards you and your heart swelled.

The next day you found yourselves at JCPenney, wearing your best clothes, being posed by the photographer. 

You were smiling brightly for the first time in a while. It was all because of your family.

Running your fingers over Jaime’s face in the photo, you pressed your lips together to stop the tears from pouring down. You were already mourning one loved one, you don’t think you could handle another. 

“Oye,” you heard Nana speak up, everyone gathering around her. “No es hora de llorar,” she cooed at Milagro. “We need to fight and get Jaime back because that’s what your father would’ve wanted us to do,” she affirmed and you wiped your eyes, Millie crying harder at the mention of her father. 

She was right and that’s how you found yourself in the bug ship. Thanks to the help of Jenny, who you were sure felt remorse for causing this. You were handed some sort of gadget and out of the corner of your eye, you saw as Nana grabbed the biggest gun you’ve ever seen.

“How do you know how to hold that so well?” Millie questioned. 

“There are many things you don’t know about your grandma,” Nana grinned and your eyes widened. 

The plan was set, you would go with Jenny and Milagro to find the generator room and shut everything down to find Jaime. Following the two girls in front of you, you were dodging guards back and forth as you were instructed to place explosives on the walls. 

Everything seemed to go accordingly until you and the girls had to run from the guards, you felt like you were going to escape until the ceiling above you started rumbling. 

“Millie! Go!” you pushed her out of the way before it crushed her, unfortunately, you were now separated. 

You called out for anyone, but it was hard as your lids grew heavy. Then everything went dark. 

~

Woken up abruptly, you winced at the pain that radiated through your body. Someone was shouting at you but you could only stay still and you cried out in pain as you were lifted up. You didn’t think anything severe was broken or injured, just sore. 

Suddenly you were outside, being dragged towards the same Kord helicopter. Jenny was beside you and she sent you a look, something about it was trusting and reassuring. You tipped your head, letting her know you understood.

“Y/N L/N,” a raspy voice rang through your ears. 

You stared at Vicky Kord, your stomach sinking as you shifted in your seat and that’s when you realized she had a gun in her hands.

“22-year-old woman, cosmetology school drop-out, kicked out by her own family after she refused to join her family’s drug dealing business,” she smiled wickedly as she leaned forward towards you. “Works night shifts at Margaritaville and is in love with a boy named Jaime Reyes”.

You glanced down, ashamed and angry. Not many people knew your life’s story. You kept it under wraps and your found family helped you leave it in the past. But now, a Kord seemingly knows all of it.

“What do you want?” you spat. 

“Oh, just one thing,” she grinned. “You think you’re on the right path, dear, but working night shifts at a bar doesn’t get you anywhere. But I can help,” she offered and you narrowed your gaze at her. “I can get you out of Edge Keys, you can make something out of yourself and truly know the meaning of hard work,” she said like a promise. “I just need you to get me the scarab,” she shrugged like it didn’t mean killing Jaime in the process.

“Being with family is me being on the right path and I don’t need you to tell me what hard work is,” you sneered.

“Like you would know anything about family,” she chuckled. “You’re really going to give up everything I can give you over a stupid Edge Keys piece of trash,” she scoffed and you grew angry. 

Jaime was much more than that and you knew it deep in your soul.

About to strangle the life out of her, Jenny spoke up. 

“He might be from Edge Keys, but he knows more about family than you’ll ever know!” Jenny stated firmly before she spit the gum she was chewing out, creating a bubbly goo around you three as you fell out of the helicopter.

You stood up with a groan, finding Jenny and her aunt having a one-on-one before your eyes scanned over the fiery field, and caught sight of Jaime. 

“Jaime, oh my god,” you covered your mouth in shock as you ran over to him.

“Y/N,” he said like he couldn’t believe it but he snapped out of it, embracing you as he ran a hand over your hair. “I thought I lost you,” he said, glancing in your eyes, tears streaming down both your faces.

“I’m here,” you rested your head against his before he kissed you. You leaned back, granting him better access before you both pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Jaime,” you licked your lips, sobbing. “Your apá,” you shook your head, cupping his face.

“I know,” he glanced down sorrowfully. “He’s okay, I know it,” he affirmed and you sucked in a breath. 

“Okay,” you pressed a smile.

Behind the two of you, Carapax was doing something to Vicky just as he walked over to you. Jaime was quick to shield you as he stopped in front of him.

“Go with your family,” he said in his deep voice and Jaime nodded, gulping. 

Clutching to his arm, you looked at Jaime before he spoke.

“Go! Go to the bug ship, I’ll be there!” he pushed you towards the beetle but you shook your head. It was like he sensed something was going to happen and you didn’t like it.

“No, I’m not leaving without you!” you argued, keeping your feet planted.

“Please, just trust me,” he begged and you agreed before grabbing his face and pressing your lips together.

“You better be right about this, Jaime,” you rolled your lips together, taking in one last look at him before you broke off in a sprint.  

You sat at the top of the ramp, looking out into the field to see what Jaime was doing. His face became frantic and you leaned forward as he began to run, explosions going off behind him. He made it onto the ramp but slipped until you managed to grab him.

He gasped as he looked up, a soft smile on his face. Rudy and the rest of the family helped you pull him up. 

“Now we can cry”. 

~

“Nana, you need help with the nopales?” you asked, kneeling down beside her as you began to pick the most viable ones. 

Everyone was dressed in black. Alberto’s funeral was tear-filled. You missed him dearly, but it was time to rebuild. You’d never forget him though.

“Gracias, mija, ven ayudame,” she held her hand out and you got up, giving her support to come up as well. 

The rest of the family circled around you, Jaime wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your temple. 

“Now we can start rebuilding,” Nana said, holding out the little pot of cacti. 

The neighborhood had come to help. Food was brought and a celebration was being made. Jenny even appeared, promising Kord Industries was going to rebuild the house and she gave Rudy a new Tailgate. 

The family went to check it out while you, Jaime, and Jenny stayed back. She said something about making sure Jaime got a good job at the company and you couldn’t help but grin in a proud moment. 

Things were right for once.

“Let’s take a walk,” Jaime suggested and you agreed, linking your hands together.

You stayed quiet, enjoying the soft breeze and the views of Edge Keys. Rounding the corner, you found yourselves a nice spot on the curb, sitting down next to each other.

“What now?” he asked.

“Like Nana said, we rebuild,” you hummed. “But there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a bit,” you took a breath in and he looked at you expectedly. “I think I want to go back to cosmetology school,” you announced and Jaime’s face broke out into a grin.

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” he hugged you. “What made you decide that?” he asked.

“Not sleeping puts things into perspective,” you began, ending with a laugh. “Now that Jenny is going to give the Edge Keys back to our community, I don’t need to work those night shifts anymore,” you grabbed his hands. 

“I’m so glad,” he grabbed your face and pressed kisses around it. “So proud,” he said against your mouth.

“Thank you, Jaime,” you smiled. 

“Maybe now that you won’t be working so much, we’ll finally get that alone time,” he wiggled his brows and you laughed. 

“Oh yeah, for sure now considering we don’t have a house,” you snorted.

“We can go everywhere now,” he looked up at the sky and you glanced at him as an idea washed over his face. “You wanna take a ride?” he asked and you furrowed your brows. 

“How?” you questioned. “Where?”

“Somewhere private,” he smirked and you smiled.

“You’re something else, Jaime,” you stood up, meeting his gaze as you looped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his.

“Stop,” he exhaled, closing his eyes in embarrassment. 

“What?” you grinned, searching his eyes for a guess. 

“It’s nothing,” he shook off and that’s when you realized he was talking to Khaji-Da. 

“What is it saying?” you grew curious. 

“Just,” he dropped his gaze to your lips before he leaned in, enveloping your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You moaned, fingers grazing his hair. “Hold on,” he broke away and your eyes widened in shock as the suit appeared. 

You took off a moment later and you were flying.

~

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