saph

Shanks had lived his life for himself. He had loved hard and laughed hard. He had made sure to live without regret, to make his whole life one big laugh. He had scars covering every part of him. Ones he was proud of, ones he was ashamed of. He had done everything that he could to enjoy his life on the seas.

Unfortunately, that often meant finding lovers on distant islands. He would love them and then leave them. Never once thinking about what he had done. 

It had come back to bite him in the ass the last time he had docked in Loguetown.

A small girl with hair the color of blood had tried to pick his pocket. He’d gripped her wrist and had told her off. She’d spit at him and run away. But that hadn’t stopped her from coming back over and over again. There had been something drawing the two together. It had gotten to the point where Shanks had allowed the street rat to sleep on the ship, to curl into his side during those nights where he taught her the stars and how to listen to the song of the sea.

His crew had been entranced by the orphan girl. Ben had given her a wooden flute. One that she clung to as most children would cling to a teddy bear. Lucky Roux had shared food with the girl, feeding her before he fed himself. That alone should have told Shanks all he needed to know. 

The hair, the temper, even the way she smiled. It was all him. She had been his. A product of a one-night stand with a tavern girl. The tavern girl had apparently not made it through the birth, Akemi had told him that she’d been running wild on the streets since she could remember. Another street rat caring for her until she could care for herself. Shanks had been unable to forgive himself for the horrors she’d faced. Six years old and already put in so much pain. 

Shanks had stolen her away from Loguetown without a second thought. He didn’t care that the sea was no place for a child. Neither were back alleys of a town known for pirates and other such nefarious peoples. 

Akemi had taken to life at sea better than anyone else Shanks had ever seen. She climbed the rigging without a second thought, often getting stuck and causing someone to go and get her. She danced on the deck when they had nights of joy. She hid below decks when they got into fights, tucked between treasures as though she was the richest one. To Shanks, she was.

Watching her grow for four years had been his greatest joy. He’d watched as she had grown into herself, or at the very least as she learned to trust others. She wasn’t as scared anymore. Her eyes were often so bright that Shanks wondered if she was even real. She’d picked up music quickly, learning her flute in only a few months and moving onto various other instruments. He and Ben had been the worst about gifting her pretty instruments. But Akemi loved them. 

The crew had claimed her as their songbird. Akemi had claimed them as her family.

The sun shone bright that morning. A warm, summer breeze drifted over the deck. The sails were set and they were making steady pace.

None of that mattered to Shanks though. No, what mattered was how he and his crew slunk around the captain’s quarters. 

Akemi slept in what should have been his bed. Her small fists clutching the blanket, looking so much younger than her ten years. He always thought she looked like a little angel when she slept, but that was perhaps him being blinded for his adoration of his daughter. 

A creak of the floorboards caused her eyelids to flutter open. 

Shanks shot a glare at Hongo, who blushed sheepishly.

“Papa?” Her voice was soft, sleep heavy. Her fist rubbed her eyes as she sat up in the bed. Two red braids fell over her shoulders, ones that Ben had done. Shanks used to be responsible for Akemi’s hair until he had lost his arm. He missed those early mornings and late nights, missed how she would start to fall asleep in his lap and how she would smile up at him as though he was the sun itself. 

“Happy birthday, Emi,” Shanks grinned at his daughter. The crew behind him cried out happy birthday, Lucky Roux holding out the cake that he had spent three days preparing.

The girl stared at the crew, confusion in her green eyes. The one thing she had not inherited from Shanks. Her father watched her carefully, his grin only growing as her confusion gave way to excitement. 

Akemi jumped out of bed, her braids flying out behind her. She threw herself onto Shanks. He barely managed to catch her. His arm going around her, hand cradling the back of her head like he would’ve so many years ago. He would always feel guilty for not being there. He’d never forgive himself for missing so many crucial moments.

“Is it really?” Akemi’s eyes seemed to sparkle, brighter than any jewel he’d ever found.

“Yes, really,” he laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. Shanks knew that these moments were soon to come to an end. Akemi was no longer that six year old girl. Four years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. He hated to think how much quicker they would start to fly.

“And I get to eat cake for breakfast?” 

“If you don’t, I will,” Lucky Roux called out, causing the others to laugh. Akemi’s laugh joining them. 

This was how Shanks wanted to live the rest of his life. Surrounded by love and laughter. Surrounded by his crew and his daughter. Nothing else would ever compare to how he felt now.

“C’mon, to the galley, all of you. No crumbs in bed,” Shanks stood with a graceful movement, never once letting go of Akemi. She didn’t seem to mind. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. 

The crew had a rowdy breakfast of cake and tea in the galley, Lucky Roux cutting up orange slices just for Akemi. Shanks wondered how he could keep that smile on her face forever. He often worried that he wasn’t doing enough for her. What kind of childhood was she getting being locked away on a ship? She’d been allowed to play with Luffy and his brothers when they had been using the island as a base. However, that was nearly two years ago. 

He worried for her. But he would never give her up. He’d missed too much time already.

“Kemi, c’mere,” the captain said as the crew began to make their way up to the deck.

Akemi swallowed a last gulp of tea before she made her way to her father. She perched on his knee, giggling as the ship swayed and rocked her. 

“I’ve been thinking for a long time about your birthday present,” he said as he looked at her seriously. “You’re getting to be a big girl now, Kemi, which means you should be allowed to take on a more serious role in this crew.”

Akemi’s eyes seemed to grow bigger as she looked up at him. 

“I think it’s time we had a lookout, don’t you?”

“A lookout?” She repeated the word, almost as if she were trying it on.

“Someone who sits in the crows nest all by themselves and watches for other ships or for land. Of course, you’d have to be able to climb up and down incredibly fast. You’ll still need to be below decks if we get into trouble.”

“I can be fast!” Akemi scrambled off of his lap. A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it. He knew that he was being stupid.

“Can you?” Shanks grinned at her, hiding those horrible cold feelings.

“Yes!” Akemi bounced on the balls of her feet. “Benn showed me how to use the ropes and Hongo and LimeJuice both say I’m getting really good at not getting tangled up!”

“Let’s see it then.”

“Now?”

“Right now,” Shanks moved to stand.

Akemi ran out of the galley, scrambling up the steps. For a moment, his heart lurched in his chest. Memories of banged up knees and tearful sobs from getting splinters playing over in his mind. His Akemi. His little girl. How could anyone handle watching their child get hurt? He had known that she was going to get hurt, it was inevitable in this line of work. But it didn’t mean he had to like it.

He followed her out to the deck. The crew was scattered about, each doing their own task for the day. Bonk Punch and Monster were the first to notice Akemi running across the deck, but they’d always been aware of her. The two had taken her under their wings, teaching her everything they knew about music. Akemi waved to them, shouting happily as she did.

Her hair flamed in the sunlight, golden threads woven through the red. 

Shanks watched those flaming locks as she climbed up the mast, her fingers gripping holds that he could not see. His heart nearly dropped into the pit of her stomach when she slipped once. 

Benn hid in the rigging, watching Akemi like a hawk. Just as he always had. A protector, her godfather. The only person Shanks would fully trust with his daughter’s safety. He trusted Benn more than he trusted himself sometimes.

Akemi’s head disappeared, Shanks’ heart beating too fast in his chest. He didn’t feel calm again until it popped up from behind the wall of the crows nest. Akemi leaned over it, supporting herself with one hand, waving with the other.

He laughed, waving back at her.

“Keep an eye out for trouble, Kemi!” 

“Yes, Papa!” 

She looked so happy up there, so at peace. He wondered what he would do to keep that look on her face. She’d been through too much hardship, too much pain. He’d keep her happy. If only to make sure that she never left him.

Shanks loved his daughter. Perhaps a little too fiercely. Already, he mourned the fact that she was growing. He mourned the fact that she would one day wish to go out on her own. Or worse. What would he do if she decided she wanted to take up fighting? He’d probably lose any semblance of sanity he had left.

She needed to be able to protect herself. He knew this. But he wanted to be the one to protect her. 

Shanks tried to keep his concerns and worries at bay as the ship sailed. He tried to think of how he would hear Akemi’s flute occasionally, sometimes followed by her harp. Maybe he should have gotten her that piano she had been begging for.

The day passed by with those sweet melodies mixing with the sounds of the crew’s laughter. Just because it was her birthday didn’t mean that the pirates were off duty.

“Papa!” Akemi cried out, her voice barely reaching him over Lucky Roux’s laughter.

“Kemi?” Shanks turned his head, searching for the girl. She stood in the crows nest, gesturing wildly with her flute. “What is it?”

“Ship! Starboard side, it’s pirates!” She seemed startled, face paler than it normally was. 

“Get down from there, now, Akemi!” Shanks called to his daughter. “Stations, men! Ready the cannons, hope they just want to talk or pass by us, I don’t feel like fighting today.”

The crew exploded into chaos as they began to ready for a possible fight. 

No one noticed that Akemi had not done as her father had said. Instead of scurrying down the ropes, she hid herself in the crows nest. Her instruments clung tightly to her chest, her body curled in on itself as though that would protect her. 

She would be safe there. She was sure of it. 

The ship came upon them faster than any of them had anticipated.

Shanks didn’t recognize the Jolly Roger, meaning it was some young upstart hoping to make a name for themselves. There had been plenty of them who had tried to start fights with Shanks and his crew, just to prove they were worth something. Shanks had always thought they were idiots for it.

The ship didn’t bother trying to start a conversation between captains. No. They just shot a cannon at the ship.

It soared through the air. Shanks clenched his teeth, wincing as it hit the side of the ship, taking off part of the railing.

“Seems like they want a fight, boys,” Shanks sighed as he glanced behind him at his crew. “Give them hell.”

With a battle cry, the Red Hair Pirates leaped into action. Gunfire and cannon fire began to fill the air with smoke and sound. Hell had opened up in the middle of the ocean.

A crack of wood sounded over the bangs and booms. Shanks barely registered it.

He wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the scream that followed it.

High pitched, childish, and drenched in fear. Akemi. His world seemed to shrink to two points. Before the mast broke and after. 

Shanks turned his head, feeling like he was moving far too slowly. Red hair shone like fire in the haze of battle. Too fast, she was moving far too fast.

“Kemi!” He struggled to find his voice, moving as fast as he could.

It wasn’t fast enough.

She was plummeting. Rushing towards the water as though she were a cannonball. Her screams lost in the wind and the battle around them. 

A brush of hair against his fingertips, his hand missing her by inches.

“Akemi!” He screamed, watching in horror as she moved towards the water.

A tanned, scarred hand reached forward from a lower deck. It grabbed Akemi’s wrist and tugged her into an embrace.

Shanks rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside Benn and Akemi. He brushed hair out of her face, anxiety clear in his eyes. “What the hell were you still doing up there?” 

Akemi shook before him, her eyes silver. “I … I wanted to help.”

“By getting yourself killed?” He didn’t mean to snap, didn’t mean to be so harsh.

“Shanks,” Benn mumbled from beside them. “Perhaps this isn’t the time, Captain.”

Shanks looked at Benn for a moment. He was right. The middle of a battle was not the time nor the place to start yelling at his daughter. It would probably only stand to get them all killed.

“Take her down to the brig. Make sure she stays down there. We’ll discuss this later,” he shot the last part of this to his daughter. His heart ached at the sight of her lower lip trembling as though she was about to cry.

Benn didn’t bother replying. He picked Akemi up, covering her head with his hand, and rushed down into the depths of the ship. Anything else would send Shanks spiraling, and would likely end with the captain chasing them down. Benn would rather not have to deal with that.

Shanks watched them go for half a second. He rose out of his crouch, fire in his eyes.

The captain from the other ship sneered at him from across the way. 

“Looks like you’re getting washed up, Shanks,” the young upstart called.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Shanks said as he drew his pistol from the depths of his cloak.

“You don’t scare me, old man.”

“I should.” Shanks fired his pistol, the bullet lodging in the upstart’s thigh. He began to advance towards the ship. His crew falling silent around his. The cannons stopped. The guns stopped.

All there was was Shanks and his retribution.

The upstart stared defiantly at Shanks. 

Shanks stared back.

He kept eye contact as he put a bullet through the upstart’s skull.

“Now, you can all either back off and find something better to do with your time, you could die, or you could be apologetic and maybe I’ll allow you a place on my crew.” His voice was deadly quiet, and yet, the pirates had heard him. Every single one of them.

The crew looked at each other, fear in their eyes.

Shanks’ crew stood silently behind them. They’d played this game several times. They knew he would be harsher now that Akemi had nearly been a victim of the senseless battle. None of them thought anything was wrong with that. Not when their songbird could have so easily been stolen from them.

The truth of the matter was that the Red Hair pirates all thought of Akemi as their own.

“I’ll join you,” a young man from the back called. He scurried across his ship before leaping over to join the Red Hair pirates.

Six more of the thirteen person crew joined them. The rest Shanks allowed to leave.

“Take care of them,” he murmured to his own men, trusting that they would know just what to do. 

Shanks didn’t bother introducing himself or otherwise caring about the new recruits. He was too focused on the task ahead. How was he supposed to punish Akemi on her birthday? That seemed far too cruel to him. It didn’t help that he was utterly useless when she cried. She could get away with murder and she knew it. Perhaps she was too spoiled. Perhaps he should be harder on her.

“Papa?” Akemi’s voice was small, her eyes large as she peered at him over a barrel. “Is it over yet?”

Just like that his heart melted. 

Shanks moved to sit beside her, tugging the girl onto his lap. His arm wrapped around her, keeping her tight against his chest. His head bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her hair filled his nose and he found himself nearly brought to tears. He could’ve lost this. Could’ve lost the one thing that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so horrible after all.

“Yeah, Kemi, it’s over now.” 

She shook in his grasp, made him wonder if her punishment was already in effect. Akemi had learned her lesson, had learned all that she needed to. At least, he hoped that she had.

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice shook, Shanks felt his heart break.

“I can never be mad at you, Kemi,” he murmured softly. “I just get worried sometimes. Like today. I just want to make sure you’re safe. You’re the most precious treasure in the world to me.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” he tapped her nose gently, a little smile on his lips.

“Am I still the lookout?” Akemi asked, clutching onto his cloak.

“You’re still the lookout. Just come down when things start getting dangerous, promise?” Shanks held his hand out to her.

There were about a million and ten reasons why he should not be doing this. For starters, it was completely wrong morally, ethically, and most importantly legally. She had a boyfriend, one who treated her like shit and one that didn’t deserve her, but a boyfriend nonetheless. She was his best friend’s little sister, only by five minutes. But most importantly, Emily Munson hated him. She’d deck him if she ever caught him.

But fucks sake it felt as though she were teasing him.

He sat at his desk, bent over another college admissions essay. He was reapplying to state schools, not the Ivies his parents had demanded but it would be college nonetheless. It wasn’t like he was trying to look into her window. Steve was being a good guy, honest.

Emily stood with her back to the window, black hair tickling her shoulder blades. He tried not to think of how nice her thighs looked in her stupid fishnets. Tried not to imagine kneading the doughy flesh and making her whine.

He dropped his pencil when she slipped off her t-shirt.

She was teasing him.

She had to be.

Her head moved to the side, shoulders tensing. She shouted something. Probably her brother’s name. 

He watched as she shrugged on her Hellfire shirt, cropped to just below her bra. His fingers twitched, imagining running his fingers up and down her sides, cupping every single inch of her body. He wondered if her breasts would be heavy in his palm, wondered if anyone had ever worshiped her the way he wanted to.

She walked out of her bedroom. Steve couldn’t focus on his essay. Not when Emily Munson had walked out of her bedroom and had walked right into his thoughts.

God, Eddie was going to murder him if he ever found out.

But Steve could handle hiding it for as long as it took. He could handle the fighting, the raging, the way she looked at him as though she daydreamed about skinning him alive. He could take it as long as she was looking at him.

He pushed himself away from his desk. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on those essays anyway. Not when his mind was plagued with thoughts about Emily Munson and the way she smiled brighter than the sun. The way her plump red or black painted lips would look wrapped around him. The way she’d look bouncing on his cock, her perfect tits swinging and her head tilted back in pleasure. Steve knew he’d ruin her, knew she’d whine and cry and beg for more.

His cock swelled at the thought.

He knew it was so wrong, so so wrong to think of her.

But how could he not?

Emily Munson was the sun. She was the universe. She was the only thing that have ever mattered to him, and yet, she didn’t even realize just how much he wanted her. Didn’t realize how much he needed her. How much he craved her. If she did, she had never made a move to acknowledge it. Had never made a move to acknowledge him.

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, facing his window that faced into hers. Her lights were off. But the fairy lights gave a gentle glow on her bookshelves. Bookshelves that he had put together because Eddie couldn’t be trusted with a hammer. His handiwork in her room. His mark.

God, he was pathetic.

It didn’t take much effort to picture her lounging on her window seat, in that little pajama set that Steve loved so much. Black lace that clung to her curves, that showed off every inch of her body. Her thighs always looked so plush, so creamy and ready for him to bruise when she wore it. 

A shudder went down his spine as he shifted further up his bed, his pants falling to the floor.

She’d be reading, a pen or a cigarette between her lips. She’d chew on the tip of whatever it was absentmindedly. His cock twitched at the thought of it. At the thought of how her eyelashes would flutter against her cheekbones. About how her lipstick would leave a stain on that cigarette.

He spit into his hand, regret already forming in his mind but he didn’t care.

He had tried so hard to be good. He had tried to ignore the way she looked at him like she was going to eat him alive. He tried to ignore the fact that he wanted her to. He tried to ignore the way he couldn’t stop picturing how her ass jiggled when she ran up the steps. He tried to ignore every racing thought, but he couldn’t.

Steve was going straight to hell.

“Em,” he groaned softly as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He tugged gently, his mind picturing her hand. The way she would struggle to wrap around him. The way she would blush and stutter upon first seeing him.

His eyes closed, head tilting back.

She was there, breasts spilling out of her shirt and waiting for him to paint in his cum. She’d beg for it. Beg for him.

The little brat would be tempered for him. 

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? Staring through my window huh? Just hoping you’d catch me doing something, weren’t you? Fuck,” his pace quickened, matching what she did in his head.

He knew Emily would be a wildcard. Knew that she would bite and scratch and make damn sure to mark him up throughout their time together. Damien was evidence enough of that. There had been so many days where Steve had to bite down on his jealousy, when Damien had worn Emily’s markings with pride. Possessing her. 

Damien didn’t realize that Emily was not a creature to be possessed, was not a creature to own. She was perfect. Perfect and otherworldly. Steve would worship her, either from afar or to her face. Whatever she gave him, whatever she allowed.

She controlled him. Not the other way around.

“Such a good girl for me, Em.” If he did get to dominate her like he dreamed of, it would only be because she allowed it. Because she wanted it.

Steve needed her to want it. Steve needed her to need it.

His mind played with him, showing him the Emily he wanted to see. The one who was begging for him, the one who wanted to choke on him. The one who wanted him to fucking destroy her.

Steve cursed loudly at the image of Emily laying on his bed, thighs spread and looking so bashful before him.

Stevie please. I’ll be good, I promise.

He grunted as he came onto his hand. The thought of Emily begging sending him over the edge.

He had to stay like that for a moment. Just breathing, trying to figure out what was wrong with him mentally. 

There had to be a lot considering what he had just done.

Steve opened his eyes, moving to sit up so he could clean up. However, he quickly froze. 

Standing in the window, her knees on that window seat, was Emily Munson. Her mouth open and a shocked expression on her face. She looked away once she realized he was staring at her.

            The phone stared at her. Telling her to pick it up. Pick it up and stop being a little bitch about it.

            This never happened. Her words repeated in her mind. How could she have said it? How could she have acted like she could pretend that Steve hadn’t taken her to another fucking planet in the back of Scoops Ahoy.

            It had been three days. Three days and no matter what she did, she could not cum. She had tried everything. Vibrators, dildos, even Gareth eating her out for half an hour hadn’t done anything. The truth of the matter was that she needed Steve. Needed his fingers, his tongue, his monster of a cock that she swore was going to split her in half.

            Her pride had been the only thing that kept her from crawling to him that very night. She had been determined to hold out for as long as physically possible. However, that didn’t seem to be going well for her.

            Emily was restless. Restless and nearly in pain from just how badly she needed a release. She’d never been so worked up before. No guy had ever made her want to come back for more. Hell, Gareth didn’t ever make her want to come back. He was just always available and always made her feel comfortable.

            But he wasn’t Steve.

            “Fuck this,” Emily groaned as she picked up her phone. She glanced once at her bedroom door as she dialed the number that she shouldn’t have memorized. It was locked, her parents were gone, and her brother wasn’t supposed to come home for another two weeks. She was safe and she knew it.

            “Harrington residence,” his voice sounded gravelly and low, as though he had just woken up. “Steve speaking.”

            “Hey Stevie,” Emily purred out, trying to act like she normally did.

            “Emily?” A loud crash sounded from the other end of the phone. Had he dropped something? Had her voice made him lose whatever control he had? “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me again.”

            “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

            “I… I feel like that’s a trick question.” At least he was learning. Emily had wondered if he’d ever figure out what she was like.

            “You’re right,” she sat up just slightly on her bed, trying like hell to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “I know you’ve missed me. Robin told me that you haven’t stopped asking about me. She’s starting to think that you like me.”

            “Maybe I do.”

            “No you don’t.” The thought of Steve liking her was enough to break Emily’s brain. They were supposed to hate each other. They weren’t supposed to think of each other the way Emily had been thinking about him. “You like that I submitted to you the other day. You liked fucking me. I liked fucking you, too, Stevie.”

            “Why are you calling me, Em?” His voice took on that stern tone that made her shiver.

            “You never let me cum, Daddy,” her voice was a purr. “It was the only thing disappointing about our time together. I need it, Daddy.”

            “Are you … Are you begging to cum? On the phone? Is this some sort of prank?”

            “No, Stevie. I promise … I just … Fuck, don’t make me say it.”

            “Say it, Emily. I wanna hear my pumpkin.” God that name was going to be the death of her. And yet … Something about it just felt so right.

            “I haven’t been able to cum. Nothing’s the same as you, Steve. There, happy?”

            “No.” Steve sounded more exasperated than she had anticipated.

            “What?”

            “I’m not there fucking you into your mattress. I can’t be there, I’ve got a babysitting gig in half an hour.”

            Emily’s heart sank into her stomach. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been hoping to see him again. Hadn’t realized how badly she needed his body pressed against hers. But not getting it seemed to drive the point home.

            “This is what we’re going to do,” Steve sounded so in control that it made her head spin. “We’re gonna play on the phone. Alright, Pumpkin?”

            “But it’s not the same,” Emily hated that she was whining. Hated that he brought her to that point.

            “I know, doll, but it’s the best we can do. How about I take you out tomorrow night and we actually fuck to your hearts content? This can just hold you over until then.”

            A date. With Steve Harrington?

            “Like a date?”

            “I meant it when I said I liked you, Em. Just one date. If you still hate me at the end of it, we never have to even see each other again. And I’ll let you cum, as long as you’re not a little fucking brat.”

            “You’ve got a deal, Harrington.” It would be a horrible idea but she would at least get some sort of pleasure at the end of the night. “Now, can we pretty please play, Daddy? I’m about to die here.”

            “Calm down, baby, you’re not dying. Safe word?”

            “Vampire.”

            “That’s my girl.” Emily had to bite her tongue to keep from retorting. “No snappy little retort? Is my baby learning how to behave?”

            “Nope. I just really want to cum by the end of this.”

            Steve’s laugh made her feel breathless. Made her feel as though she was going to soar. God, she had it bad for the boy that she had always hated. She didn’t know when she had fallen for Steve. It seemed to have happened slowly, snowballing until he was the only thing that she thought about.

            “That’s my girl,” he teased her. “Why don’t you start playing with that pretty little clit for me? Small circles, Em. I want you to tease yourself.”

            “Yes, sir,” she mumbled, her hand traveling down her body. She did as he instructed, a soft whimper escaping her. Normally, she wouldn’t have made a noise. But being on the phone with Steve made it feel as though she had to perform. As though she had to put on the show of a lifetime to get his approval.

            God she hated herself for it.

            “That’s it baby,” Steve’s voice had taken on a gruff tone. “What are you thinking about, huh? What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

            “You,” she hadn’t anticipated the truth falling out of her mouth. “Fuck, it’s always you. I just want you buried between my thighs, want to feel you everywhere.”

            “Fuck, Em,” she could picture his hand wrapped around his thick cock. Pumping himself as he listened to her. “Why don’t you get yourself ready for me, huh? I want you to finger yourself. Got that, Princess?”

            “Don’t call me princess,” she shuddered as she slid a finger into herself.

            “I’ll call you a princess if I want. You want to act like a little brat and then get spoiled as hell? That’s a princess. You’re my little fucking princess and I’m gonna make damn sure you know who you belong to.”

            “Fuck,” Emily whined as she added a second finger.

            “You belong to me, don’t you baby? You know that you can’t feel this way with anyone else. Why fight it? You’re my little slut. You’ll always be my little slut.”

            “Your little slut,” she found herself agreeing, his words finding their way into her very soul. “Fuck, just want to be your slut.”

            “That’s it, good girl,” he cooed through the line. A soft groan escaped him. At least she knew this was affecting him just as much.

            But why?

            They’d spent years hating each other. Years acting as though they wouldn’t care if the other just up and disappeared. What was changing? Was it just graduating and realizing that high school wasn’t the whole world? Or was it something else? Did that stupid sailor uniform cast some spell over her?

            God, he must have an excellent charisma stat.

            Emily shook off her thoughts. Now was not the time for thinking about DND. Not when she was fucking herself with her fingers, using a come hither motion that normally worked rather well.

            Tonight, however, it didn’t seem to be doing shit.

            A frustrated groan left her mouth. “Daddy, this isn’t the same.”

            “Add another finger,” Steve huffed out.

            “Won’t fit.”

            “Oh, yes it will,” he sounded more confident than she felt. “Pumpkin, if I can fit two of mine, you can fit three of yours. Your hands are smaller than mine. Remember? Your thighs were trembling for me. God, I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my neck tomorrow. You gonna let me eat you out, Em?”

            “Yes,” she nearly squeaked, wincing as she slipped a third finger inside of herself. “Let you do whatever you want if you let me cum.”

            “You’re still mad at me for that?” She could hear the smirk in his voice. She didn’t know if she wanted to kiss him or deck him for it.

            “Yes!” Emily groaned out, back arching as her index finger brushed against her gspot. “Shoulda let me cum.”

            “You never would’ve learned your lesson if I had. Besides, I think you like it. Think you like knowing someone isn’t afraid to punish you. Does Damien talk to you like this?”

            Now that wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Her relationship with Damien was as well known as her relationship with Steve. Feral, toxic, and always unpredictable. Damien stifled her. But he also knew how to worm his way back into her heart.

            Steve hated him. Eddie hated him. Everyone hated him.

            Everyone except Emily.

            “No,” she hated to admit it. “D-Damien doesn’t do anything fun,” she stumbled over her words as the heel of her hand dug into her clit.

            Steve was quick to notice.

            “Guess that why you had to call begging for me, huh, Pumpkin? I’m the one who knows how to play with you. You love it when I play with you, don’t you?”

            “Yes, God, yes,” she whined out, thoughts beginning to leave her.

            “You close, Em?”

            “Yes.”

            “That’s my girl. Want to hear you cry out my name when you cum for me, alright? Want to hear you begging for me to fuck you into your mattress. Hell, I want to hear you say you hate me. Got it?”

            “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” The words were a prayer as she grew closer and closer to her climax.

            “No, you don’t, baby. You wouldn’t want me so bad if you did.”

            “Stevie, please.”

            “Now, Pumpkin. Want you to pretend it’s my hand your cumming on. Give me a show, yeah?”

            Emily’s voice grew mangled as she called out his name. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, out of relief more than anything. Finally, after days, she was cumming.

            A cursed mumble of her own name told her Steve wasn’t far behind her.

            “Emily?” His voice came through the line after a minute.

            “Harrington?” Her own voice was shot, filled with a post-orgasm breathlessness.