up, down, side to side, horizontal, vertical, oral, doggy style, prone bone, missionary, on the couch, in the bed, on a boat, on a plane, on a train, in a prius, in a 16-wheeler, in a pool, in a hot tub, on the neighbor’s lawn, in front of his ex’s house, in a garden, in the eiffel tower, in the panama canal, at all the 7 wonders, at disneyland, at disneyland in tokyo, in the murder house, at briarcliff, at the coven, at the freak show, at the hotel cortez, in roanoke, in the basement on the fucking pinky power table, in the outpost, in the lab, on a beach in p-town, at dunder mifflin, at x mansion, in his mom’s basement, in a library while stealing books, in the sex shop, in another mental hospital, at trump towers, in his apartment he rented me, at the police precinct, while traveling the CA coast, in somalia, in the 60s, on the street, in the international space station, any hole, any position, in the air, on the ground, under the ground, at the center of the earth, in all the oceans, on the table, on the counter, in a river, in a tree, on a highway, in a truck bed.
anywhere. anytime. any hole.
so excited!!
🝮 made by me 🝮
*Gif not mine*
Pairings: Mitch Marner x gf!reader
Summary: You get Mitch’s number tattooed right above your ass.
Word count: 606
Warnings: fluff, ass slapping mentioned🫢, Mitch getting handsy, jealous Mitch.
Requested: no
Note: totally based off of One Tree Hill season one episode nineteen. Also keep sending requests
Reckless decisions.
One sober fun night out with the girls caused me to end up at a tattoo parlour and get the number sixteen tatted right above my ass. I made them swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell Mitch nor bring it up.
I’ve been hiding it from Mitch by keeping my pants high waisted and since Mitch is an ass guy, it makes it harder to hide it. Late at night, I’m sitting at my desk trying to get some emails answered. Mitch walks into the room. “Hi baby,” He greets taking a seat on the bed.
“Take a break.” He tells me in a whining tone. “I’ve got to get this done.” I try explaining, pulling the back of my shirt down. “It’s getting late and you’ve been answering emails all day.” Mitch slams his head back on a pillow.
I look over to the clock notice that it’s half past eleven, deciding that it’s getting late I shut off my computer and lay down on Mitch. I wrap my arms around him and rest my chin on his chest, looking up at him, batting my eyelashes.
“You’re pretty.” He coo’s, pulling my hair behind my ears. I blush in response, snuggling into his chest. “We should get to bed.” I yawn into his chest, unraveling my arms from him getting up and walk away with my back facing him.
Walking out of the bathroom makeup free and a set of pyjamas on, I settle myself into bed waiting for Mitch to get ready as well. “Babe,” Mitch calls softly getting onto bed. “If you ever did something you’d tell me right?” I furrow my brows, panic rising at the fear of him seeing the tattoo.
“Of course I would.” I respond quickly, turning my back to him on the comfortable side I sleep on drifting off to a dreamless sleep.
The sound of a shifting body and the bed moving with it wakes my mind and ears up but I have yet to open my eyes. Slowly opening my eyes I turn to the right seeing Mitch’s bare back facing me, clearly tense.
“Mitch.” I whisper, resting on my elbow caressing his back. Mitch’s back flex’s at my touch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks in a low voice, turning to look at me. Confused I sit up, leaning on the headboard. “What do you mean?”
“The tattoo Y/N, the tattoo with my number right above your ass.” He grumbles, sitting right beside me. “Mitch, it’s just a tattoo. It was one decision and I made it.” I try to explain. “It’s not about the tattoo, it’s the fact that I wasn’t there and some guys hands were all over your.” He glares.
A smile graces my face realizing that Mitch is jealous. “Mitch, are you jealous?” I ask tilting my head and crawl into his lap. Mitch places his hands on my hips without thinking, pulling my closer. I rest my hands on his chest waiting for his answer.
“Just wish I was there.” He mumbles, tightening his grip. “Well if you must know, it was a girl.” I say laughing quietly. He furrows his brows in confusion. “A nice woman did the tattoo.” I explain, running my hands up his chest.
“Fuck, so all of this for that.” He sighs, grasping my ass. “Technically you’re the one who took it far.” I retort, squealing as his squeezes my ass. “But you were a bad girl for getting it without me there.” Mitch changes position so I’m laying against his legs with my ass in the air.
“Start counting.”
desperate sapnap please
SLIGHT SMUT AHEAD. PLEASE SCROLL IF UNCOMFORTABLE!!
⚠️MINORS DNI!!⚠️
Pairing: Sapnap X afab!reader
“please baby..”Sap whispered against your lips as y’all shared a sloppy kiss. “Sap— you need to work.” you say with a slight frown.
“i know— i know. just— need to be inside you. please.”he begs, receiving a sigh from you.
“Doll, stop squirming so much. you’re— mm…distracting me.” Sapnap says, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him, his hand on your lower back, pushing it so it’ll arch.
“M’sorry. i’m uncomfortable in this position.” you mumble against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to it, making him smile lightly.
his cock deep in your walls felt good. But, because of the position, it made your back hurt. Which made Sapnap feel bad, he hated when his baby was in pain.
“Baby— i’m gonna cum if you keep squirming like that.” he grumbled, continuing to squirm, making you gasp when he kept his word—and came in you.
you humming against his shoulder as his cum slowly seeped through onto his gaming chair.
“Sap! your chair-“ you start to say before he cuts you off with a kiss to your lips. “it’s fine. i love when we make messes like this.” he says with a cheeky grin.
“Don’t get cocky now.” you say.
Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.
His red hair era 🔛🔝
Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.
◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four
rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3
warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin
“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?”
Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”
Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story.
“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.”
You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt.
“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing.
But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who.
“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”
“How so?” Sabine asks.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.”
Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. “Go on…”
“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?”
“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.”
“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.
“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…”
“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass.
“Widowed.”
“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.”
“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.”
“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.”
You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest.
“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause.
New Message from Skyguy81
“Oh, my God,” you say.
“What?” Sabine asks.
“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.
Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”
“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.”
Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her.
“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat.
“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.”
“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky.
“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.”
“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.”
Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.”
“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.
Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off.
“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.”
You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love.
And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable.
.
.
.
It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know.
Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?”
Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.”
“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet.
“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them?
Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks.
“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick.
“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.
“Is she pretty?”
Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles.
But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans.
Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus.
He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately.
“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers.
Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.”
Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.”
After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
.
.
.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.
Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message.
And you still haven’t replied. But you read it.
And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting?
Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all.
And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy.
Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit!
Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles.
Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.
Is it good enough for you?
Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up.
Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;)
Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are.
Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you.
Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock.
“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.”
Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.”
You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.”
“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?”
“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.”
“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately.
He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair.
You’re his assistant.
You’re significantly younger than him.
The power imbalance (see 1 and 2).
That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed.
Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help.
You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up?
Impossibly so.
When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean?
To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips.
Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you.
I think I’d like that very much.
Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk.
Maybe in another life.
Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams.
.
.
.
The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom.
Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants.
“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.
“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.”
“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.”
Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?”
“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.”
“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?”
“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.”
Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?”
You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.”
“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.”
“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…”
This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.”
“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.”
“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?”
Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.”
“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way.
The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras.
Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand…
You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children.
Stop thinking about it.
But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home?
.
.
.
When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.”
So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?”
“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.”
“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door.
What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed?
.
.
.
Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks?
“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.”
Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.”
“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her.
“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.”
Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.”
Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call?
All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door.
.
.
.
At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer.
Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?”
“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw.
“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?”
Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?”
“On your knees.”
.
.
.
When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator.
You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears.
Anakin says your name.
Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?”
“Would you like to go get lunch?”
It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?”
“I meant me.”
You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?”
“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,” Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty.
You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?”
“Yes. If you would like.”
You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.”
I think I’d like that very much.
That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin.
On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked.
He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question.
Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it.
Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes?
“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?”
You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.”
“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.”
“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.”
“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids.
“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?”
Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.”
You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!”
“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response.
“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.”
“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-”
You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.”
Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.”
You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it. Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.
◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)
Icons I made, like & reblog if you use please! ᡣ𐭩
more sub/mommy kink tate 😭😭!!! just like him whining to himself because you won’t touch him
x fem!reader
cw: mommy kink, mutual masturbation
“Can’t you see I’m busy Tate?” You let out a berated sigh as you flip to the next page of your magazine. You were comfortably submerged in the soapy water in your bathtub, your hair cascading over the edge as you read.
Tate sat on the edge of the bathtub, whirling the water softly with his hand, not making eye contact with you.
“I know,” Tate mumbled, his eyes raking over your naked body covered in soap suds. His breath hitched as his gaze centred in on where the curve of your breasts left the water, your nipples perked from the cool air.
He just wanted attention, and most of all, he wanted to touch you, to be touched by you.
“I’ll talk to you later,” you mumbled back, chewing on your bottom lip as you engrossed yourself in all the celebrity gossip that jumped out at you from the glossy page.
“But.. I wanna be with you. Now,” Tate wasn’t taking no for an answer, his fingers that were playing with the water moving upwards to caress the soft skin of your arm.
You let out another sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto the edge of the tub. Tate’s wondering fingers ran up your arm challengingly, until they were tracing over your collarbones.
When you didn’t say anything in protest, Tate continued, his touch leaving you for only a moment before it was back, this time on your exposed breasts. His hand cupped the warm mound of flesh, his forefinger and thumb pinching your erect nipple. A moan bubbled at the back of your throat, but you didn’t let it leave your lips.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Your eyes open to look up at Tate, who’s gaze was still fixated on your breasts. As he massaged one in his hand, you noticed his other hand palming himself through his jeans.
“Nothing mommy,” Tate whispered, his hand travelling over to your other breast to repeat his actions.
“Is this because I haven’t touched you today?” Your gaze remained on Tate’s hand as it desperately squeezed at his hardening erection. He was so needy, and seeing your naked in the bath only brought it out more in him.
“Yes momma, need you,” Tate refused to give up, his hand now moving from your breast to your stomach, his fingers featherlike under the water.
“Tate,” you bit into your lip harder as his fingertips traced your hipbones, before reaching the apex of your thighs.
He stilled for a moment before you made eye contact.
“Please mommy,” Tate looked at you desperately as he whined for you, taking his hand off himself to guide one of yours towards him.
“Please what, Tate?” You test him as your fingers pinch around the fastener of his jeans.
“Please I need you to touch me,” he whines again, his eyes silently pleading with you as his hips slightly buckle up to meet your hand.
“Mommy likes it when you use your words,” you coo, unzipping his pants and unbinding the button.
Tate bit back a smile as you worked to pull down his boxers slowly, gasping softly as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach.
“That looks so sore,” you observe the way his angry red tip leaks with pearls of pre cum and begin softly tracing the veins that protrude from his shaft.
Tate’s eyes close from your gentle touch, and a soft whimper leaves his parted lips.
“M-more, please momma, it hurts,” Tate pines, his own hand reaching for the heat between your legs. The pads of his fingertips rest on your clit, applying the smallest amount of pressure. A coil begins to tighten in your lower abdomen as you continue to softly tease him. You loved how desirous he was for you.
“I bet it hurts, baby,” your hand finally wraps around the base of his cock, squeezing gently. He lets out another whimper that almost sounds like a cry. When his eyes open you can see them glassed over with tears he didn’t want to let fall.
“Keep touching mommy,” you instruct him, “maybe then you’ll be rewarded.”
Tate works vigilantly, gliding his fingers across your clit down to your entrance, and then back up again. The water made everything so soft and wet, and it drove you both crazy.
“You feel so good mommy,” Tate continues circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as your body relaxes with pleasure.
“You’re making me feel so good,” you utter, moving your hand upwards on his shaft, collected the pre cum with your palm and smearing it down the expanse of his length.
Tate groans softly as you work with him in your hand, before his fingers sink back to your opening and slide inside. Your back arches off the bathtub as he steadily begins to pump two fingers inside you, watching diligently to the way your body responds to his touch.
“That’s it baby. Just like that,” you praise, picking up pace around him, squeezing just a fraction harder.
“Oooh-fuck, mommy,” Tate whines, buckling his hips up again to meet with your hand as it strokes him, still knuckle-deep inside your velvet, pulsing cunt.
Tate fingers curl up to meet your g spot and your breath hitches in your throat. With shaking thighs, you clamp your legs closed around Tate’s hand, anticipating your release. He always got you so worked up.
“Cum with me baby, you’re gonna make mommy cum.”
The heel of his palm rests against your clit, speeding up his fingers as your hand returns the favour around his clock. Tate begins to work up a sweat, indulging in pleasuring you the same way you’re pleasuring him.
“I’m cumming momma- oh, holy fuck,”
His cock twitches in your hand as you begin to pulse around his fingers, and soon you’re both coming together. Tate’s body shudders as he reaches his climax, hot spurts of cum coating his simple striped t-shirt as you moan his name through your orgasm.
Your hand doesn’t leave his cock as it rests against his stomach, feeling his heavy breathing against your fingers.
“Feel better baby?” You ask as he removes his hand, his cheeks flushed red in titillation.
“Thank you mommy,” Tate bites down on his lip as you squeeze at his sensitive cock, trying to alleviate some of the rawness he was feeling.
“You did so good,” you take his hand in yours, bringing his fingers up to your mouth and slotting them inside to meet with your tongue.
Tate watches with wide, dark eyes as you suck off what’s left of your arousal from his fingers. He can’t wait for you to get out of the bath so he could cum again.
“Now let momma finish her bath.”
I’m so obsessed with the idea of Spencer finally finding someone he feels comfortable around!! Someone who loves him for who he is!! Who’s actually interested in him and what he has to say!!
It’s a bit overwhelming for him in the beginning, starting on one of his infodumps and realizing that you’re still listening, genuinely interested and encouraging him to keep going. He’s so used to the annoyed “sorry I asked”s and the sarcastic “wow, so interesting”s, and he worries that it’ll always be like this.
But then he meets you! And here you are, trying on ridiculous Halloween costumes with him, helping him pick out his funky socks for the day, accompanying him to every film festival and convention. And here he is, smiley and heart-eyed as ever, getting emotional in the best way because wow this is his person!! and he loves you so so so much!!
He can let his guard down around you, not having to worry about being Genius Dr. Reid and getting to just be Spencer. Making his cheesy philosophy jokes, showing you his silly magic tricks, ranting about his favorite Doctor Who episodes or the book he’s currently reading.
You cuddle up with him on the couch while you’re watching one of his Russian Sci-Fi films together, you ask him to ramble because you love his voice, you kiss him after he finishes saying something super smart because he’s so ridiculously attractive when he talks and ugh, yeah. he loves you so much.
masterlist | inbox ← requests open! ♡
taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)
I had to unfollow some mutuals due to those rp accounts like holy shit it was getting on my nerves. Like girlies, yall are kinda making a fool out of yourselfs