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hopesworlld · 1 month

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౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, we fell in love !

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — the aftermath of your stepbrother anakin finding your diary brings some unexpected results

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 5k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smoking, shotgunning, mean!ani, smut ( making out, degradation, praise, pussy slapping, choking, panties as a gag, ani calls reader a slut and a bitch, nipple play, hair pulling, riding, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, stomach bulge, public sex, car sex, reader is a bit of an exhibitionist, biting, but also body worship, dry humping and soft soppy sex ) think that's all, wow

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — stepbro!anakin has my heart and my soul, also i had sm fun with this little mini series i'll deffo do more in the future !

part one part two masterlist

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the weeks of summer seemed to fly by after anakin’s post-sex confession, claiming you as his, it was a complicated situation with your parents being completely oblivious to the fact that anakin would now spend most nights in your bedroom buried deep in your pussy, hand covering your mouth to muffle the moans that fell from your lips. it was wrong, so so wrong, but how could you stop? how could you ever move on when you knew what anakin’s lips tasted like, what it felt like to have his dick imprinted on your cervix, the taste of his cum. you couldn’t, despite all the doubts you couldn’t move on.

“angel,” anakin called entering your bedroom with a silly smirk twisted on his lips, you span turning to face the boy eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“ani, you’re home,” you grinned, quickly crossing the room to meet him in the middle, slinging your arms around his shoulders, anakin swept you up, arms twining around your hips and spinning you in a small circle making you giggle.

“promised you i would be back early tonight,” he murmured into your hair, carrying you over to your bed and setting you down on it, following after you and tugging you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard.

“i know,” you said dragging out the w, “but usually early for you is midnight, it's only…” you leaned over grabbing your phone from your bedside table, “seven,” you gasped, “who are you and what have you done to my anakin?”

“your anakin?” the boy asked with a wide smirk, “oh baby i like the sound of that,” his words made you flush but you rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly making the boy chuckle, leaning down and planting a butterfly kiss on your neck. “but i’m back early for a reason, i finished your dad’s old car today and i…” you don’t let him finish, spinning around with a wide smile painted across your lips.

“you did? that’s so great, ani! why didn’t you tell me earlier when i saw you?” you asked him with wide eyes and the boy laughed again.

“if you would let me finish,” he scolded teasingly, “i would have told you but i wanted it to be a surprise because i’m taking you out tonight, so get dressed, we are going on a date,” your lips parted in surprise, gazing at anakin with stars in your eyes.

“really?” you asked him, “oh, ani, that’s so sweet,” you cried, planting soft kisses all over his face before finally meeting his lips. the kiss was soft and slow, nothing akin to the messy kisses you shared in moments of passion, no, this was sweet, a promise of something more as you shared a moment of intimacy.

“come on, angel, hurry up, we don’t wanna miss it,” anakin said pulling away from you regretfully and helping you up, swatting your ass playfully as you headed over to your wardrobe and began rummaging through your clothes.

“where are we going?” you ask curiously as you pulled out a yellow skirt and held it over your hips looking at anakin with your head cocked to the side but he simply grinned.

“it’s a surprise,” was all he said, before grabbing your diary from your bedside table and flicking through it, it had become your new normal that anakin would take your diary, a thing that you had got to expose your deepest darkest secrets, but now he had stripped you bare, seen every part of your soul, tasted the darkness upon your lips and embraced it. there was no way to explain it other than anakin was simply yours, your soulmate, your relationship was something real and tangible, you could feel it when he looked at you when his hands traced your skin. it was more than lust, more than some fucked up idea of romeo and juliet, this was it for you.

“i hate surprises,” you grumbled as you tugged a pink bando top from your wardrobe, it was ruffled with a little bow that sat between your breasts.

“i know,” anakin said, and you could hear the smile in his voice even if you were turned away from him. it didn’t take you long to get ready, pulling on your new clothes along with a pretty pair of pink kitten heels and fluffing your hair out, makeup from earlier still intact so with a spritz of perfume you were ready.

“if you are taking me to see that new horror film i will stomp on your dick and leave you there,” you told him, spinning around and slinging your purse over your shoulder, anakin blinked at you, looking a little dazed before shaking his head quickly and standing up, his shirt had ridden up revealing the little cluster of hickeys you had left on his v line a few nights before.

“such a way with words, angel,” anakin complimented, walking over and planting a kiss on your glossy lips.

“only for you, ani,” you teased with a grin, grasping his hand and letting him lead you from your bedroom and down the steps, it felt like only yesterday that anakin had cornered you on the landing, teasingly calling you out for your dirty thoughts and now here you were holding hands and being led on a date, you were practically giddy as anakin ushered you into the car, shutting the door behind you before heading over to the driver's side.

“ready?” he asked you and you nodded, the drive was short, only about fifteen minutes spent with you mindlessly singing along with the radio while anakin focused, driving down dirt roads until he pulled into a place you knew all to well.

“the drive in theater?” you asked, eyes glimmering as you turned to face anakin, a wide smile spread across your lips and anakin’s face flushed, a shy grin curling as he nodded, pulling into one of the spaces at the back and shutting the car off.

“they’re playing ‘cruel intentions’ and i know it’s one of your favourites,” anakin said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, you had never seen him like this, cheeks rosy and eyes bright and it only made your little heart glow brighter.

“anakin, this is amazing,” you told him, “no one has ever done anything like this for me before,” you confessed, watching as anakin’s lips pursed.

“i don’t wanna say good because you deserve to be treated like this always, but i’m also happy to be the only guy who knows how to treat you well,” and there he was again, your anakin, you rolled your eyes at him and leaned back in your seat.

“always the charmer,” you chided and anakin winked at you.

“anything for my girl,” my girl, fuck.

the ticket holder came around a few moments later and anakin flashed him the tickets on his phone and you two were left alone once again, you were pleasantly surprised when anakin pulled out a diet coke from the back of the car and handed it to you, taking a fanta for himself as the movie began. you tried to focus you really did, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that anakin was right there, only inches away from you, he wasn’t even touching you but every nerve in your body seemed aware of the fact that he was beside you in the darkened car. so when you saw him pull out a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and slip one between his plump pink lips, you couldn’t help it anymore.

“hey, ani…” you said softly and anakin tilted his head to face you, flicking his lighter on and inhaling deeply, lighting the end of the cigarette.

“yes, babe?” he asked curiously before taking another drag, you watched the tendrils of smoke curl from his lips and float into the air and your mouth went dry.

“can i… can i try?” you asked, gesturing at the cigarette balanced between his two fingers with the casual grace of someone who did this often.

“you wanna smoke?” anakin asked you with raised brows, “never took you as a smoking girl, baby,” he pointed out and you flushed, eyes flicking down to your hands before going back to anakin, holding his gaze as firmly as you could.

“i’m not,” you shrugged, “just wanna know what it’s like,” you said and anakin nodded in understanding, holding his hand out for you to take the cigarette from him, clumsily you pinched it between your thumb and forefinger, careful not to burn yourself as you tried your best to position it between your fingers as anakin had, trying to ignore the way he chuckled at you.

“come here, babe,” anakin said, reaching over and twirling the smoke between your fingers so that it was perched right, “you know what you are doing?” he asked you and you pouted defiantly.

“just suck, right?” you asked, scowling when anakin laughed once again.

“it’s not a dick,” he snickered, marveling in the way your flush grew darker, “it’s kinda like sucking, more just inhaling, just wrap your lips around the end and breathe in, and you gotta let it hit the back of your throat, okay, you just let the smoke in your mouth and it's gonna make you cough,” he instructed and you nodded at him, anxiety pooled in your stomach as you brought the cigarette to your lips, the tip was already slightly wet from anakin’s own lips so you did as you were told and inhaled, instantly you felt it, the burn of hot smoke searing your mouth and sweeping down your throat, you yanked the cigarette from your mouth and coughed, it wracked your frame, little gasps escaping as you tried to soothe the searing heat.

“easy,” anakin murmured, taking the smoke from your hand and rubbing your back.

“that was disgusting,” you spluttered, eyes watering.

“poor baby,” anakin cooed unapologetically and you glared at him.

“fuck you,” you groaned, “i didn’t think it was gonna be that bad,” you huffed, taking a large gulp of coke to try and rid your mouth of the vile taste.

“maybe we should have started you with a vape,” anakin chuckled as he took another drag with ease, “think this was a little intense for your little inexperience throat,” he crooned and your glare hardened.

“my throat is not inexperienced,” you hissed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“come on, i wanna try something,” anakin said leaning forward, you wanted to ignore him but curiosity got the best of you so you tilted your head to face him, watching as he grinned at you, “we are gonna shotgun, okay?” he said and you furrowed your brows.

“shotgun?” you asked curiously.

“yea, i’ll take a drag and then blow it into your mouth, it’ll soften the hit if i’ve already smoked it,” he said, gesturing for you to sit up like he was, you followed his actions, leaning over the controls and parting your lips, watching as anakin took a long drag, inhaling deeply before grasping your chin, and pressing your lips together, exhaling the smoke into your mouth, you inhaled, allowing the smoke to swirl down your throat, it still tastes gross, the bitter mix of smoke and tobacco but it wasn’t as strong and you were able to take it without choking. when anakin pulled away you exhaled, smiling proudly.

“i did it,” you chimed, “can we do it again?” you asked and anakin nodded, taking another drag of the cigarette and bringing your mouth back to his, it was strange to have anakin’s lips there but not kissing you, instead feeling him breathe smoke into your mouth, but something about it was strangely erotic as you shared a smoke, the bitter toxins that burned his lungs being transferred to you, it was stupid but it made your insides flutter as you pulled back only slightly and breathed out, a veil of smoke fluttering between you and anakin.

“ani…” you whispered, but anakin already knew, he tossed the cigarette from his window and crashed his lips to yours, the taste of smoke staining your lips as he plunged his tongue deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of you and you were more than happy to let him, hands coming up and threading in anakin’s hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was messy, teeth clacking as you tried to force yourselves closer across the console, anakin’s hands sliding down your hips, grasping tightly at the meat of your hips causing your skirt to ride up flashing your pretty pink panties beneath.

“these for me?” anakin asked, pulling away from your lips, gaze trailing down to your underwear, curling his finger around the string of your thing and tugging it, letting it snap against your skin, you moaned at the sharp sensation and anakin’s replying grin was almost animalistic. “my little pain slut,” he crooned, doing it again and watching as you shivered, thighs rubbing together.

“ani, i’m…” you groaned, pushing yourself up again and connecting your lips once again, anakin’s hands slid down your thighs, grasping them tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles and he bit down on your lip and sucked it into his mouth until your bottom lip felt swollen and tender, you cried out at the sensation, addicted to the dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure that he gave you.

“you are so responsive,” anakin muttered against your lips, hand trailing upwards to your clothed cunt, cupping it in his large hand, you bucked against him, desperate for some sort of relief, your clit burned against the lacey fabric of your thong and you wanted nothing more than for anakin to tear it from your body and force himself into your wet heat.

“only for you,” you replied and anakin chuckled, slowly beginning to drag the heel of his hand up and down over your cunt, pressing against your clit, you throbbed against him, hands tightening in his hair, you wanted him closer.

“my good girl,” anakin said pinching at the skin of your inner thigh with his thumb and forefinger, palm still working on your clit, “does whatever i want don’t you, angel,?”

“yes, yes, anything,” you agreed breathlessly.

“good,” anakin said flashing you a smirk, “cuz right now i want you to ride me okay, baby,” he commanded, your head darted upwards, as though suddenly remembering that you were in public, there were many cars scattered around but anakin had managed to pick a pretty secluded spot for the pair of you but still, if anyone were to walk by they would see exactly what the pair of you were doing and you couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline that trickled down your spine and the thought of fucking anakin right here, right now.

“now?” you asked wanting to confirm your suspicions and anakin nodded his head, so awkwardly you clambered over the middle of the car, stretching one leg to balance as you sank down over anakin, your hands coming up to cling to the headrest of his seat as you swung your other leg over and planted yourself on anakin’s lap.

“knew you would like this,” anakin chuckled, “my perfect girl, so desperate to get fucked she’ll do anything,” he teased, grasping the back of your neck and pulling you into a dirty kiss, all tongue and spit, you almost lost it when anakin wrapped his lips around your tongue and suckled on the organ, the sensation mixed with your desperation had you grinding helplessly on anakin’s lap, skirt now positioned around your hips leaving your panties fully on show, if anyone were to come over right now they would be able to see the wetness staining anakin’s black jeans as it seeped through your underwear. “fuck, baby,” anakin said, hand drifting back to your underwear, “making a mess all over me,” he grinned.

“why don’t you do something about it then?” you asked him, locking eyes.

“brat,” anakin hissed through his teeth, “got a lot to say when you’ve got nothing inside you, don’t you, angel, all switches up when you get my cock though,” he ground out, “please ani, let me come, please, please, please,” he mocked your voice with a silly high pitched tone that made your cheeks burn, pouting at him you shook your head.

“you’re not any different,” you argued, “always act so nice once you’re inside me, getting pussy drunk and telling me i’m yours” you scoffed and anakin growled, hand raising and wrapping around your throat and squeezing, not enough to cut off airflow. still, it was tight enough that you spluttered out a gasp for air and looked at him with eyes.

“wanna be a bitch and i’ll fucking treat you like one,” anakin growled, “think you own me? can talk to me like that? think again, babe, you are mine, my girl, my fucktoy, okay?” he asked, not letting you respond, instead using the hand on your neck to bob your head up and down for you. he let go of your neck, shoving you back so that your shoulders collided with the dashboard behind you, you hissed in pain but anakin only smirked, reaching down and tearing your panties from your body. literally. he tore the fabric like it was nothing while you could only watch in awe. “but this is what you wanted isn’t it? need me to put you in your place and deal with that slutty pussy,” he said, trailing his fingers down your sopping cunt and you whined, bucking your hips greedily, anakin rolled his eyes at your action and suddenly he was bringing his hand down, slapping you cunt harshly, you knew it was supposed to be a punishment, but the delicious mix of stinging pleasure on your clit and white-hot heat against you needy hole had you moaning loudly.

“holy shit,” anakin gaped, looking stunned, “you really are a pain slut, you fucking like this?” he asked with a scoff, slapping your pussy once again, watching as you cried out, mouth falling open and your eyes rolling back, he slapped you again, harder and you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks but you didn’t want him to stop. “tell me,” anakin hissed, “you wanna cum like this?” he questioned and you nodded. “speak,” he spat.

“yes, wanna cum like this, ani, i love it,” you cried out.

“fucking disgusting,” anakin laughed, landing another two consecutive slaps on your cunt gleefully. you were a mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body screaming in pleasure as you collapsed down onto the dashboard, legs spread on anakin’s lap, he reached up, tugging your top down and exposing your breasts and giving both your nipples a quick pinch before going back to your pussy, using one hand to spread you open for him as he slapped you again, this one ever more intense now that you were so exposed to him, a scream fell from your lips and anakin was quick to shove your torn panties into your mouth. “you trying to get us caught?” he spat, “shut up and take it,” and he slapped your clit once again, so hard that your body physically recoiled, but it was enough, the sensation was enough to send you spiraling, coming all over anakin’s lap, pussy dribbling cum as you sobbed into your makeshift gag.

“fuck, babe,” anakin said, gazing up at you, “did you even know you were into that?” he asked tugging your panties from your mouth and you shook your head, dazed as your cunt convulsed around nothing, still desperate to be filled even after just cumming. “so fucking hot,” anakin groaned, yanking you down to kiss him, “gotta be inside you, baby,” he said, hands fiddling with his jeans and you nodded frantically, as he pulled his cock out, it was rock hard and flushed an angry red, worked up after playing with you for so long.

“fuck me, ani, fuck me,” you pleaded earning a snicker from anakin.

“so fucking desperate,” he said, but he wasn’t complaining as he grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your entrance, and sank deep inside of you, you had never ridden anakin before and you could see why, you could feel him everywhere, as though his cock was literally deep in your stomach, it ached and you fucking loved it.

“oh, oh, anakin, fuck, you’re so deep,” you cried, slumping forward into his awaiting arms.

“yea, angel, right up in your guts aren’t i,” he sounded proud as he used your hips to guide you, bouncing you on his cock, you had thought anakin couldn’t fuck you any better but right now he was literally all you could feel, you looked down and sure enough you could see the bulge of his cock against your stomach.

“ani,” you gasped, pointing down to it, and anakin’s jaw slacked.

“holy shit, look at that,” he grinned, “literally got me in your stomach, angel girl, gonna pump you full today okay, babe, don’t have any condoms, wasn’t expecting you to get so desperate for my cock in a drive-in,” he said, thrusting his hips upwards, you helped him as best as you could, lifting your hips, swirling them slightly trying to find a good rhythm but everything felt so good. but anakin didn’t seem to mind, even from this position he was jackhammering into you, cock plunging into your pussy like it was made just for you, your head fell back, unable to hold yourself together, hands clinging desperately to anakin’s shoulders.

“i think i’m gonna cum again,” you gasped.

“you wanna cum again? go ahead, baby, come for me, want you to soak my cock,” he prompted rocking his hips against yours, you came harshly, dark spots appearing behind your eyelids, you were vaguely aware of anakin’s hand pressing over your mouth to silence your screams as he fucked you through it, but not stopping as you came too. his brow was soaked with sweat and you could tell by his furrowed brows that he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially as your cunt spasmed around him. “never met someone so fucking insatiable,” anakin groaned, thrusts becoming erratic.

“and you never will,” you murmured, voice weak as anakin continued his assault on your body but you wouldn’t let him stop, you needed him to cum inside of you, to fill you with his seed until it was seeping down onto the leather interior of the seats.

“fuck, no, you’re stuck with me forever,” anakin ground out, you could feel him twitching inside of you, you leant forward, kissing his neck, trailing down from his jawline to his sweet spot where his neck and shoulder met and bit down, anakin cried out, hips shuddering and he was cumming, thick hot cum spurting deep inside of you, claiming you as his, you gasped soundlessly against anakin’s neck as you both settled. “you’re insane,” anakin groaned finally after a few minutes.

“so are you,” you replied with a small grin and anakin nodded in agreement.

“wanna get out of here?” anakin asked you and you laughed.

“bit late for that now isn’t it, ani,” and he laughed along with you, running a hand through his messy waves.

“fuck, i can’t believe we just did that,” he said, glancing around, luckily he couldn’t see anyone lurking around but he wouldn’t be surprised if you were loud enough to have caught someone’s attention.

“you were mean,” you murmured.

“yea, and you fucking loved it didn’t you, angel,” anakin grinned and you bashfully buried your face into the crock of his neck, heart fluttering as his big arms wrapper around you and held you close, “you know i don’t mean it right, you are perfect, just like seeing you get all riled up,” he said, lips pressed to your ear, his words like the confession of a sinner to a saint.

“i know,” you hummed against his neck, parting your lips and sucking the skin there gently, giggling when you heard anakin groan.

“brat,” anakin groaned, “i am not fucking you in this car again its gonna take me forever to get the cum off of the seats,” he sighed, grasping your hair and tugging your head back so you were looking at him, faces only inches apart.

“take me home then,” you said, pressing a kiss to anakin’s swollen lips, savouring the taste of salt and smoke before be pulled away with a smirk, so utterly beautiful even in the cover of darkness.

“you got it, baby,” he winked, helping you into your own seat before throwing the car into reverse and speeding out of the drive in.

arriving home you headed back to your room while anakin cleaned the car up, you quickly changed into one of anakin’s t-shirts before slipping into bed, burying yourself beneath the blankets as you waited for anakin, flicking through your phone, you had just began to doze when you heard your bedroom door open and in anakin walked clad in only a pair of grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low around his hips, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he didn’t say anything, simply getting in beside you and wrapping his arms around you, you rolled over, laying your head on anakin’s chest.

“i got you something,” anakin said after a few moments.

“you did?” you asked, tilting your head up to face him, he leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“it’s…” he murmured, “it’s kinda sappy i just… here,” he was nervous, it made your heart flutter as you sat up, taking a small box from him and opening it up, inside was a delicate silver locket shaped like a heart, your lips parted as you picked it up, it was cool against your skin, as you looked closer you could see something engraved and your heart soared.

“ani, these are our initials,” you said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“yea, i… uh, i did it myself in the garage, i found the necklace at that antique shop in town and i just thought…” anakin fell silent, awkwardly shuffling on the bed, tears welled in your eyes as you held the necklace up, it glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom. “you hate it,” anakin snapped, reaching out to grab the necklace but you shoved his hand away.

“don’t be stupid,” you told him, “i love it, ani, so much,” tears trickled down your cheeks and anakin’s face softed, he reached out cupping your cheek, brushing away the crystalline tears that stained your face, “help me put it on,” you asked, holding the jewlery out to him and anakin accepted, unclasping the chain, you span around, holding your hair up so that he could loop it around your neck. it rested just above your breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as you turned back to look at anakin.

“what do you think?” you asked him with a small smile and anakin melted, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. it was soft, easy and his lips glided across yours, gentle pecks that lead way to longer, deep kisses and soon his tongue was sliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you gave it easily, arms coming up around anakin’s shoulders. sweetly he twisted you in his hold, rolling over so that you were pressed against the plush pillows, body sinking into the mattress as anakin hovered atop of you.

“i meant it, you know,” he said, pulling away from your lips and trailing kisses down your neck, “you are my girl, i don’t just say it because i wanna fuck you, you mean so much to me, angel,” he tells you and you nod, running your fingers through his hair.

“i know, i know, ani,” you say before his lips are back on yours, you can feel the promise on his lips as his sinks deeper into you, so close you could feel every inch of his body on yours, his chest pressed against yours, your legs twined and lips meeting, you loved it, loved him more than anything and you knew that now.

“baby,” he cooed, “baby, i’m gonna make love to you, okay,” anakin said, pulling back with flushed cheeks, “wanna treat you right, okay, i can’t find the words, i gotta…” he stumbled over his thoughts, eyes flashing with desperation as he looked down at you, eyes falling on the locket and he exhaled deeply, reaching out and taking it between two fingers.

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek, “show me, ani, want you too,” you pleaded and anakin nodded, connecting your lips once again, it was still slow, innocent brushes of lips but anakin’s hand sunk beneath your t-shirt, tugging it up, you helped him pull it over your head leaving you bare for him.

“so pretty,” he whispered, trailing his fingertips along the valley of your breasts, leaning down and kissing them both adoringly, you shivered beneath his touch, “my gorgeous girl,” he said, cupping your breasts, circling his thumb around your nipples eliciting a soft moan from you, your necklace glittered where it lay on your chest and you could tell anakin loved seeing it, maybe even more than when he would mark you, because while the bruises would heal, this was permanent, a solid reminder that you were his and he was yours.

“ani,” you said, and his eyes flashed to yours, so full of love that it made your heart weep and your core ache, “need you, ani, please,” you begged and he nodded, grasping the bands of his sweatpants and revealing his half hard cock, tip already sticky and shiny, you ushered him up the bed and pulled him in for a hard kiss, hands tracing the muscles on his back, drawing him in, closer, closer. his cock settled against your core, cock head bumping against your clit and making you shudder.

“gonna take it slow, okay, angel?” anakin said, kissing your cheek, grinding his cock against your cunt, soaking it in your juices, you moaned but nodded, allowing anakin to do what he needed as he gently pumped his hips against yours. “wanna stay like this forever,” he hummed breathily.

“sounds perfect,” you said, swooping down and dropping kisses along anakin’s collar bone, finger’s still drifting down his spine as he reached down and grasped his cock now fully hard and lined it up with your entrance. you locked eyes and anakin waited until you smiled at him, a beautiful thing, like the first rays of sunlight before he eased himself inside of you. you would never get used to how full anakin made you feel, completely filling you up and leaving your body swelling with warmth. his thrusts were slow, sliding all the way into the hilt before pulling out leaving you gasping, whiney moans slipping from your lips.

“baby,” anakin rasped, “fuck, feels so good,” he said.

“ani,” you breathed, “don’t let me go,” you pleaded, as anakin’s thumb came down, swirling around your clit in swift but delicate motions, coxing you to an orgasm.

“never,” he promised, you stayed like this, lovingly locked together, body’s connected and lips locked until you both came, you gasped and whined, legs locking around anakin’s hips, keeping him there even after he had finished, not ready for him to leave yet and he was more than happy to stay buried between your thighs as you came down together, twin flames burning in a miracle high.

“i love you, anakin,” you whispered, voice stark against the silence and anakin’s returning grin made it all worth it.

“i love you, angel girl,” that was all that needed to be said, you had fallen but it was okay, because anakin was falling too, keeping you safe in his warm embrace as the world fell away.

/ anakin said he loved me today, well i said it first be he said it back, not love you too or same or whatever, he said i love you. this was so wrong when it started but now, how can there be anything wrong with love? this is forever, i know it now, and i’m never letting it go.

/ anakin came to me today, he’s going to transfer uni’s to one a few states over and he wants me to do the same, that way we can be together and no one will have to know. we can be a normal couple, go on dates and not have to worry. we will have to tell our parents eventually but for now this is what we have and i couldn’t be happier.

/ me and ani moved in together today, our own little flat, i think this is the start of something beautiful, a new beginning. just me and ani forever, i like the sound of that.

/ forever sounds perfect, angel girl

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wow what a journey this has been ! this will definitely be the last part of the ‘dear diary’ stepbro anakin series but dw i will be writing more for him i love him sm ! but thank you all sm to the all of the people who have been reading this and enjoyed ! and as i said in my last post feel free to send me requests as i am home for easter atm and need some entertainment !

tags: @johnbassplayercutie @srry-notsorry @hemmoxloser @evilnight07 @astarionsgirl @nyaaaaa008 @secretly-tumb1r @st4rfckerz

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #hopes fics !#anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin #anakin modern au #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #darth vader x reader #star wars anakin #stepbro!anakin #sam monroe #hayden christensen x reader

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capseycartwright · 2 years

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do u ever think about the girl you were at 19/20 and realise. hm. yes. i have made all of her dreams come true. because i do. and i can’t cope with it.

#in which i ramble #no listen…. i really made all her dreams come true #i made dreams she didn’t even know she had yet come true #and that feeling..#god.#if I could sit in a room with 20 year old me and show her my lfie she wouldn’t believe it was hers #and I mean that in the best way #i graduated uni four years ago. and in four years i got everything i wanted and more because I fucking WORKED for it man #anyways.#that’s my soppy post #enjoy

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ineffable-suffering · 6 months

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The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

#good omens season 2 #good omens #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #my own meta #the bloody vol-au-vents made me do it #aziraphale has balls #truly #jaune austen ball #it is a truth universally acknowledged that this show is going to drive me out of my mind #azi just wanted his silly little love confession #but then he had to surrender the angle #bummer

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vainstics · 8 months

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authors!note! Thank you! @benkeibear, @chachachannah @youcanstayhere for the dividers ♡

content!warning! 18+ so mdni, Sugar daddy! Toji! x f! reader!, foreplay, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, belly bulge, size kink if you read closely, breeding kink, creampie, a tiny amount of corruption/mind-breaking at the end paragraph if read xtra closely ♡

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who’ll take you shopping, not for your pleasure - but for his.

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who picks out clothes for you to wear, most of them being verrrry skimpy!

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who makes you twirl around in the dresses he chose for you, a lopsided grin displayed on his face when he sees your lace panties that hug your ass tight - leaving almost little to no fabric to cover up your pretty little pussy.

“Let’s go home doll~”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who’ll coo at you, the stupid grin on his face from before still there as he payed for your new clothes.

Sugar daddy! Toji! Whose rough and calloused palm moves up and down your thigh.

“Gotta prepare ya’for tonight, can’t have m’pretty baby hurt can I?”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who has his thick middle and ring fingers up your tight cervix, scissoring your wet arousal as he chuckled at your whines and moans.

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who’ll practically body-slam you on his silky dark green sheets once you both reach his home, almost ripping of the clothes he bought you - just to impatiently feel your warm slick walls clench his cock and milk him dry.

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who bullies his cock in, groaning as he forces his full length inside your soppy cunt with one big thrust.

“Still s’fucking tight, hmm?”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who lets out a breathy chuckle, pressing his rough palm down on the bulge that appeared above your belly button as he watches you squirm underneath him, struggling to take his fat cock. Though, you’ve been fucked dumb with it multiple times

Sugar daddy! Toji! Whose meaty thighs lock you in place, effortlessly lifting up your waist with one hand as the other fondles your tit.

Sugar daddy! Toji! Whose hand that was placed on your tit travels down to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves in circles with his thumb.

“Is m’baby close~?”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who’ll smirk with flirt in his tone as looks down at your little pussy taking him in so perfectly, fitting his cock inside snug and warm as if it were the missing piece to a puzzle on your body.

“Gonna fill ya’up.”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who, yet again, presses down on your belly bulge as you come undone on his cock.

“Gonna put a baby in here.”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Grunts with a firm thrust before shooting warm thick ropes of cum inside your womb.

“You spillin’ my cum? Doll, we don’t want that do we?”

Sugar daddy! Toji! Who’ll fake pout, the frown on his face contorting into the devilish smirk he had when he was fucking you before, as he saw you nodding in a yes motion - ecstatic that he broke his pretty baby, both mind and body ♡

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honkytonk-hangman · 6 months

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Flight Risk

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.

Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.

Today, Hangman had been shot down.

Warnings: cussing? jake being soppy. mentions of handsy dates, sexual referencessss

Notes: so this started as an AU for my fic Afterburn, and still technically is, however it can be read totally independently of that story as well.

Jake is perched in a casual lean against his plane, watching as the last jet in the pattern finally lands, continuing to wait patiently as the Super Hornet is guided to its designated area, just a few places down from his own. The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.

Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.

Today, Hangman had been shot down.

Jake takes a small amount of comfort in knowing that the pilot responsible for his simulated demise is also the pilot to win the day, despite that meaning his own squad losing out on the point. It wouldn’t happen again, however. He’d foolishly underestimated you, disregarded the gossip he’d overheard about Samurai squad’s newest member, choosing instead to judge for himself. Jake was a prideful son of a bitch at the best of times, and much worse at most others, but he wasn’t actually incapable of shutting the hell up and accepting his slice of humble pie.

At least, he’d accept it in his own special way, which is exactly why he waits long after the others have filtered off to the locker rooms. They’re already clocked off for the day by the time the ground crew have secured the last jet, and the pilot has climbed down. Jake shifts on his feet and gets a good look as you approach, purposefully giving you a suggestive up and down as you spot him and slow your walk.

“That was some flyin’,” he says, pushing off the side of his own jet and coming to stand before you. You blink at him, but raise an eyebrow as you manoeuvre your helmet to rest against your hip.

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” you ask, eyes sparkling in amusement. Jake grabs at his chest, like you’ve shot him down again, and winces.

“Aw, c’mon, Kodiak” he starts, before fixing you with a piercing stare. “I don’t give out compliments that often, give it to me easy.”

“Only thing I’ll give you is my afterburner.”

Jake can’t help himself, he grins wide. He knows he should keep up the banter, you were clearly well equipped to spar with him, didn’t seem to take anything too personally so far, but all he can think as he stares at the first pilot to ever shoot him down, sweat slicking your flyaway hairs to your forehead, the sunsetting below the tarmac behind you, your cheeks a little ruddy from your time in the air, is that he’s going to marry you.

Luckily, Jake has the good sense to keep this to himself for now.

He steps forward slightly, and holds out his hand, watching as you eye it suspiciously for a moment.

“I’m Hangman,” he tells you as you relent and shake his hand.

“I know who you are, that's why I went for you first.” you reply with surprisingly little smugness in your voice, just plain truth. Jake lifts an eyebrow at you.

“Using me to raise your profile I see,” he teases. You don’t seem to notice that you’re still shaking his hand, and Jake feels slightly thankful, because he’s memorising the way it feels. You scoff at him.

“And what would you have done?” you challenge. Jake just looks your features over, and decides an evening ceremony will be perfect.

You realise then that you’re still shaking his hand, and you hurriedly pull away, moving to hold your helmet in both hands as if to stop yourself from reaching out again.

“I need to go do my post-flight checks,” you say quickly, sidestepping Jake and moving off toward the hanagar, and probably the showers. Jake turns and watches you go, his smile never faltering.

“Kodiak!” he calls out, waiting for you to stop and turn back to him before going on. “I enjoyed flying with you.” Jake tells you honestly, but musters his most serious expression so that you’ll know that too. He watches your brows furrow suspiciously for a moment, almost like you’re expecting him to laugh like it’s just a prank, but after a couple more seconds, your frown smooths into something more curious, before your face at last completely softens and you give him a small, but genuine smile.

“I enjoyed shooting you down,” you reply, your voice sincere, but your words catching him off guard and making Jake let out a surprised bark of laughter.

Your smile widens just a little in the corners, like perhaps you had liked making him laugh, but soon enough you’re shifting your helmet in your hands again, and giving him a parting nod before once again you turn your back and walk away.

Jake stands still in place and watches as you shrink before at last disappearing entirely into the hangar. Once sure he’s alone, he places his hands on his hips and lets out a long, low whistle. He feels his heartbeat thump away rapidly in his chest, his adrenaline still spiking from just the thrill of speaking to you properly and in person for the first time, after being forced only to listen to your voice all afternoon on the radios.

It was a very nice voice, he thinks, both in person and on the radios, and it suits your very nice face very nicely. With a last whistle of approval, Jake begins making his own way inside, and even though he’d promised himself earlier that never again would he let you shoot him down, now he can’t help but think anything that brought you enjoyment was worth repeating.

Replaying your conversation over and over as he finally showers, changes, and heads home for the night, the first thing Jake does upon arriving in his apartment is reach for the pad and pen he keeps on the kitchen counter. He scribbles down the date, and writes out the highlights from your conversation as best as he remembers them. Peeling it off the pad, he folds it neatly, before placing it carefully inside the leather bound folder that held such items as his passport and birth certificate, before replacing it again in its hiding spot.

He wouldn’t need the contents of the note for a little while, he thinks, but when it came time to write the speech he’d give at your wedding, Jake wanted to know exactly where he could find it.

“Well, that was pathetic,” Javy nudges Jake in the ribs, and nods in your direction across the bar. Jake, who until now has been trying hard not to look your way, is finally given the perfect reason to do so, and swings his eyes over to you.

You’re sitting near the bar in your civvies, with a man who Jake can’t help but notice is not himself, and who is currently being awfully handsy for his liking. You don’t look completely comfortable either, but he also knows you have no trouble telling men to calm down when you aren’t feeling their advances. Neither reason adds up to exactly why Jake almost immediately chooses to abandon Javy by the pool table.

Part way across the bar, Jake realises that it’s not even a rescue attempt he’s trying for, clearly you were fine, no, this reaction from him is entirely new, spurred on by a good many things, but right now, by the abysmal looking date you were enduring. He slows his pace, and begins to move at a more natural gait, his lack of rush having no active affect on the crowds around him either way. Jake was both tall enough and wide enough that people tend to part for him as he walks regardless of asking.

He feels his chest puff out a little when you notice him coming before he even reaches you, and how even though he positions himself at the bar behind you, you seem to subconsciously turn a little to be able to look over at him anyway. Jake grins to himself when your ‘date’ seems to flounder at your seemingly captured attention, and quickly asks if you’d like another of the little cocktails you’d picked that night. Jake can’t help but scoff internally. He’d asked you once why you drank beer with the squad, but only ordered fruit drinks when you had a date, to which you’d replied that you thought it appeared more feminine. Jake scoffs again, this time out loud.

“You’ll let this guy take you out, but not me? You don’t even like that, you’re not even drinking it!” he says quietly enough so that only you are able to hear the clipped annoyance in his words. You cock your head at him, and raise your straw to your lips either spitefully or indignantly.

“Still sour about that Jakey?” you tease. Despite the subject matter, and his frustration that these men you went out with seemingly had something Jake did not, he can’t help but feel pride pump through his veins upon seeing the way your face, especially your eyes, have lit up for the first time all night, something which he thinks should be a bare minimum when. If a man couldn’t engage you, then he just wasn’t good enough for you, was he?

Jake shrugs noncommittally in response to your question, both of you knowing full well the answer to that. Instead, he looks away from you briefly as the bartender approaches, but feels your gaze burning the side of his cheek.

“Two beers please,” he says, paying and waiting patiently for the drinks to be deposited on the bar before he looks back at you again. He nudges one in your direction, pretending as though he doesn’t care if you accept it or not, by taking a sip of his own. His faux-apathy is completely blown by the way he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, even as he drinks, waiting to see whether or not you’ll take the beer. You watch him with the barest amount of disapproval that you can muster, before almost shyly collecting up the chilled glass bottle in your hands.

“Are you forgetting something, perhaps? Oh, it’s super important, the name is on the tip of my tongue! What're they called again…?” you purse your lips and frown deeply, making an almost sincere show of recalling the information you’re after.

Jake waits as you seem to get it at last, snapping your finger and pointing it at him. “Fraternisation laws!” you exclaim overly enthusiastic for the topic at hand, contrasting with the way you stare flatly at him. Jake brushes your finger aside as he turns inward to face you fully, and cocks his head curiously down at you.

“You know I’ve already got my half of the paperwork filled out Teddy Bear, I’m just waitin’ on you.” Jake leans in toward you as he speaks, moving in near enough that one might call it risque, but he prefers intimate. For your part, you seem to be trying hard to suppress a smile, which you don’t succeed at, however you still shake your head at him anyway, and pull back, which makes Jake immediately step out of your space a little, returning to an appropriate distance for two officers.

“I bet you say that to all the pilots.” you say quietly, almost to yourself. The line is a worn cliche, he almost writes it off, except that your tone is entirely new, and entirely too put-out for your usual wave offs.

“Only the ones that keep shooting me down,” he replies after a beat watching you, not really certain how else he should reply to this development in your now storied routine of rejecting his interest, even though he knows that you like him very much. Fraternisation had been the last reason, though, nobody really took that seriously enough to not even bother navigating its murky depths of paperwork, but before that you’d listed not being hungry enough for dinner and having to video call with your model-building partner, neither serious excuses, right?

At this point Jake isn’t what one might say is desperate, but is what one might call unwilling to watch you sit through another completely inadequate date, with men who seemed to always be on the worst side of interested in you. That meant they fell somewhere firmly between sleazy and handsy, neither category of which was amongst Jake’s personal favourite reasons for liking you so much, which in no particular order included your excellence as an aviator, your sharp sense of humour, and your unbridled ambition.

Up until now, though, you’ve never once turned him away with something that sounded so much like it might be true. You’ve also never once stared up at him the way you are now, your expression significant, but unreadable to him.

Then, after thinking perhaps he had gotten somewhere real with you tonight, Jake feels a familiar twinge of disappointment as you turn back to your date, moving in closer to talk quietly with the man.

Jake looks down at his beer and lets out a sigh, ready to leave you to your fun, and return to his prior activity of pretending not to watch you from afar. When the man accompanying you noisily steps back from the bar, the movement catches Jake’s eye, and he turns to see as the man looks briefly between you, before his eyes swing to Jake.

Jake hasn’t even caught on properly yet when your apparent former date turns on his heel and stalks darkly into the crowd, before at last disappearing entirely. Now free of your upsettingly poor choice of date, you swing your chair back around to face him, knees knocking into him with enough force to jolt Jake back to reality, where he discovers things to have played out almost exactly as he’d thought he’d been imagining them.

“Alright Seresin, you’ve got one shot at this,” you tell him, sounding like you don’t really mean it at all. Even so, Jake straightens and fixes you with his best self-assured smirk, but only because he knows you like it when he does.

“One shot is all I need,” he says proudly, before a few seconds pass and he finds himself blinking at the unintentional disclaimer he’s just given. “I mean, I’ll gladly take as many shots as you want, but–”

“Jesus, Jake! Anyone would think you haven't been laid in months!” you cut him off with a bark of laughter, your features in almost complete disbelief at such a thing. Jake pauses, hesitating with how he should respond, but eventually relaxes once more, and leans down on the bar again to fix you with his stare.

“Two months,” he informs you simply. You actually snort this time, which he finds utterly adorable, and you continue to chortle at his apparent joke, until you seem to realise he isn’t joining you. Your face falls then, and you blink at him in surprise, a flash of guilt mixing in with it, before you quickly attempt to play off your astonishment.

“Like, Seriously?” You ask, staring at him. Jake just nods, giving a short shrug, but doesn’t break your eye contact. After several more seconds pass, heavy with your bewilderment, you settle in your spot beside him one more, and let out a small huff. “Saving yourself for somebody special, then?” your eyebrows lift up as you ask, voice lilting with humour, but you don’t fully smile yet, like you’re afraid of still possibly offending him. Jake simply shrugs again, but rolls his eyes lightly.

He’s well aware of his reputation before you, as is almost all on base who know him, or those who frequent the Navy bars scattered nearby. He thinks maybe he should have gone about distributing the updated information on him, however, because as far as Jake is concerned, he had been off the market for quite some time.

Unofficially, anyway.

“Oh, she’s very special, darlin’. Someone worth saving myself for. I think you’d like her a lot,” Jake does his best not to sound too goofy about it, but he swings almost too far the opposite way, and finds himself hoping to god that the purring quality to his voice as he speaks isn’t too much.

You stare at Jake for several seconds processing his line briefly, before at last scoffing and rolling your eyes as you turn slightly away from him to take a sip of your drink. Despite this reaction likely wounding a lesser man, Jake knows his words have resonated at least a little, because both your scoff or your eye roll half-hearted at best, both also completely undermined by the not-so-tiny smile you clearly can’t repress properly, even if you try to hide it by taking another sip.

“Answer me this, Seresin;” you start when a few minutes have passed, Jake having also taken to sipping his beer, choosing to let the subject settle between you for a bit. “I know about you, and I’m not like, slut-shaming you or anything, but how do I know all of this isn’t just the usual bullshit you parcel out? How do I know I’m not just another in a long line of others?” you ask, your voice surprisingly light for the frankness and seriousness of your words. Jake blinks at you, his brow furrowing this time, and notes the way your gaze flickers to the crease between his brows for half a second.

He places his beer down and blows out a puff of air. He doesn’t answer you right away, can’t really, because on some level he realises telling you that he’s been planning your lives together since the day you’d met won’t go down super well, but he also doesn’t want to misrepresent the level of his feelings toward you.

“Well, you don’t. I mean, you are,” he speaks carefully, already expecting the frown that appears on your face almost immediately, and quickly goes on. “But you’re the last in that line. I can promise you that.” Jake’s voice becomes involuntarily quieter as he finishes speaking, and he hates the uncertain sound the softness gives his words, but knows saying them again will only cheapen them.

You stare at one another for several heart-thumping seconds, and Jake wonders if the rest of the bar has all but disappeared for you too, or if you were still well aware of everything going on around you. For all Jake knew, the bar didn’t even exist right now. And then you move, your eyes bouncing up to blink at him slowly like a cat, before they drop to your feet in an embarrassed sort of way Jake can truthfully say he’d never have imagined of you.

“I asked Javy a few weeks ago if you were sick, or something,” you say, looking back up at him with a laugh in your voice now. “I saw you turn down, like, six different women that night, and I don’t know, I was genuinely concerned for your health.” You tell him, making a small smile pull at the corners of Jake’s lips that you’d been worried about him at all, had watched him long enough to see him turn others away.

“You know what he said? He just rolled his eyes at me and said that, no, actually, you weren’t fine at all, that you were in love with me, and if he’s honest, it wasn’t cute anymore, and had become totally insufferable,” You laugh properly this time as you relay the information, and Jake can’t help but chuckle too.

“And so you thought you’d let me stew for a few more weeks? Have I not been a good boy enough already?” Jake asks with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He knew he was getting to the end of his rope tonight, but in reality, it never mattered to him how many weeks or months you made him wait, any amount of time would have been worth it. You shrug and dip your eyes away from him to dance around the room.

“Not exactly. I mean, I didn’t totally believe Javy, but I figured there might’ve been some truth there. I mean what is this, like, the… fifth time in two months you’ve asked me out?” You question, half to yourself as you do some maths.

“Fifth times the charm,” Jake replies seriously, having no other memory anymore of how the quote is supposed to go and not entirely realising he’s said it wrong at all. You snicker at this glimpse at just how far gone he is, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you a real chance before now,” you say quietly, before pulling a conciliatory expression. “But to be fair, if you were any other guy, I’d be totally right about you… I still could be,” you sound as though you’re trying to convince yourself, and trial off after biting your lower lip in a distracted sort of way. Jake nods, understanding your hesitation. You weren’t to know that he cared about you more than anyone he’d met before, more than anyone ever could, but he’s also aware that there was no point to talking the big talk when it came to things like this.

“Well now, excuse me Darlin’! I didn’t work so damned hard on my exceptionally slutty past for you to just sweep it all aside for me! It’s just plain disrespectful,” Jake blusters, playing up his accent as much as he can, but still only coming out sounding half indignant. You blink in surprise at his disapproval, and quickly try to hide the sound of your snort as it escapes through another laugh, clearly taken aback and not expecting this angle from him.

“So this is what's gonna happen instead; you’re gonna make me work just as hard for this, for you, and once you’ve made yourself an honest man outta me, then we can talk about being right or wrong,” Jake states matter-of-factly, like he isn’t simultaneously pleading you for more than this, and begging you to stand your ground at the same time.

Jake’s most frequent and recurring nightmare these past months had been the idea of getting you, then losing you. He isn’t lying about working hard to have his reputation, Jake didn’t do commitment, he didn’t do more than one night, and if he did, it was never because he wanted more. He knows relationships and intimacy are the furthest thing from his forte by choice, so if he was going to get the chance to be with you, he wanted to do it properly, to do it right.

Your laughter turns softer, pulling him from his reverie. He finds you watching him, considering his words as he’d trailed off somewhere in his head while waiting for your response. There's a small twinkle in your eyes that tells him you had no plans to take it easy on him ever, but as if you know he won’t be abated by that alone, you lean in toward him, resting your chin in your palm while blinking up at him coquettishly.

“Well, you’re already on the right track, with this whole ‘saving yourself’ business. I appreciate that, off the bat,” you say, and Jake is kind of relieved, because while it wasn’t necessarily something he had to do, you weren’t an item and had turned him down four times so feelings or no, Jake wouldn’t have been in the wrong if he’d slipped up once or twice, but he’s glad that you acknowledge your approval, at least because now he knows now and feels a gust of pride inflate his chest.

“To be clear, though, I would make you work for it regardless of your past. I know what I’m worth, what I bring to a relationship, and what I want out of one, and I know those things too well just to forget them. Not for anyone.”

Jake nods vehemently, once again in complete agreement.

“Good. That’s real good, sweetheart. I don’t,” he tells you honestly, now feeling a sense of distinctly unearned pride that you were already so intune and aware of your value. He knows that for most people, including himself, that those things are only learned once they’re older.

Your face flashes with surprise, startled by his admission of what was probably at least some basic emotional intelligence. “I’ve never wanted to know it, it wasn’t important before…” Jake trails off, and feels a sense of hesitation and regret start to poison his tongue. Was that too much? Too callous? You were aware of his colourful sexual past, but plenty of people had those. Jake had been calculated in his endeavours, and he’s suddenly ashamed, and not sure if he wants you to know that.

For a few beats you look at one another, Jake trying his best not to break eye contact, somehow hoping it will tell you all you need to know about his intentions, but after a moment, it’s you who looks away, shifting back into your position resting both arms atop the bar, where you begin fiddling with your drinks coaster.

“You know, you don’t have to be quite that honest, you can try to like, impress me still,” you say after a couple more seconds pass, and Jake lets out a shaky, anxious breath when a sideways, wry smile accompanies your words.

“Rather you be impressed by the truth than anything else,” he responds, mimicking your lean, your arms pressed against one another now, and Jake could be mistaken, but he’s almost certain that you lean some of your weight into him.

“‘M just sayin’ you don’t have to, like, abase yourself just for me to think you’re dealing fair. I already know you’re not exactly a two rodeo pony, but if you’re trying to be, that’s all I ask.” you look up at him and catch his gaze. Jake thinks over what you’ve said, not fully being able to believe it, but he wonders now if this will be just as much about proving his worthiness to himself, just as much as it was to you.

As if he has little screens in his eyes that relay his every thought like a teleprompter, your expression softens once again, and this time Jake is sure that you’re leaning into his side, your weight falling solidly, but comfortably onto him.

“C’mon Hangman, you’re the best, aren’t you?” you tease, even nudging him playfully. “Who says you aren’t the best at this too?” you go on to ask, raising your eyebrows challengingly. Jake feels both a thrill at the slight taunt to your voice, as well as a deep affection and reverence that you know exactly how to play him already.

He picks up what you’re putting down, and lifts his chin to look down at you, one eyebrow of his own lifting in an almost condescending manner.

“Certainly not you, that's for damn sure, sweetheart.” Jake damn-near gloats, chest puffing out and pride swelling up again substantially at the way you seem to enjoy this display.

“Well then, I can’t wait to find out!” You say, knocking into his side once more with your elbow. Jake’s smile flickers more genuine, and after a moment of brief thought, he uncrosses his arms on the bar and slings his arm casually around your shoulder. You move into him almost like you’ve been waiting for him to do this, like for the past few weeks you’ve been thinking about it and what you might do if he did.

You grin up at him and Jake smiles back, lowering his face down to yours so that when he speaks again, you’re the only one in the room who can hear him

“Just promise me one thing,” Jake asks, serious as ever now. Your features crease a little, but you nod.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Never stop shooting me down. It’s kinda sexy.”

You let out a shocked, joyful laugh, even as your eyes gain a mean little sheen to them, the contrast between your sweet chortle, and the evil look on your face only making his own grin widen. Jake makes a note to bring this up in his wedding speech.

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