#I couldn’t help it… I just got sucked in.. ALSO HES OLD AND WEARS GLASSES AND JUST. idk… he’s perfect ok. everything about him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leviathans-watching · 9 months

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Breaking the Ice

includes: diavolo x f!reader (she/her & you/your pronouns used, no physical body description)

wc: 14k | rated t | m.list | crossposted on ao3

warnings: cursing, more raunchy than my normal stuff (implied/fade-to-black sexual content), past raphael x reader

huge huge huge thanks to my three amazing betas for this @jeschalynn, @hyperfixat, & @fickleminder, you all seriously elevated this fic and i'm so grateful to you!!

a/n: i have been (slowly) working on this since NOVEMBER. you can't imagine how good this feels to finally post 😫😫. here's a guide to the boys' positions & numbers if you're interested and also where i go over some of the hockey terminology used within this fic! please remember to reblog/comment/etc., it's really appreciated! also blah blah blah creative liberties and suspension of belief. i'm also not a hockey experts so mistakes should be expected 👍

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.”

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.”

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him.

“A jersey?”

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring.

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you!

∙

Following your childhood best friend across the country after his trade to the Devildom Dogs—one of the most prolific AHL Hockey teams in the business—hadn't been the plan, but you can't say you're not liking it. Especially because the handsome and charming captain of the team, Diavolo, seems to be making it his new season goal to break the ice between you and get to know you better.

“And now,” the announcer’s voice echoes over the arena, egged on by the cheers of the crowd, “we welcome the Devildom Dogs out to the ice!”

The sounds of blades scraping on ice fill the air, and the raucous cheering only grows louder. It should be no different from your old arena, your old team, and yet it is.

Well, except for one thing. Person. As he skates out onto the rink to warm up, Simeon catches your eye, giving you a quick wink that’s barely visible through his helmet. You sigh good-naturedly, and he smiles.

You and Simeon have been friends for as long as you can remember—since birth, if your mothers are telling the truth—and when he’d been traded from the Celestial City Chols all of the way across the country to the Devildom, you hadn’t really seen a reason not to go with him. Your work was completely virtual, and there hadn’t been anything really tying you to the Celestial City after your engagement had been called off. Honestly, though it kind of sucked that Simeon got traded to the biggest rival of the CC Chols, you have high hopes about this new city and team.

A puck slams into the glass just in front of your face. You don’t jump. The boys on the CC Chols had always loved to mess with you and you were long used to things flying at you at what seemed like a million miles per hour. But it wasn’t one of the CC boys who’d sent that puck flying, and as you scan across the ice, you see it was one of the forwards, number one. Simeon had been kind enough to give you the down low on all of his new teammates, and you’d spent a fair amount of time pouring over the roster and memorizing stats, so it’s not hard to put a name to the number. Face. Whatever.

Mammon, starting forward for the season, gives you a smirk then turns away, all flashy footwork and dexterous control. You pause to admire the way his jersey stretches across his back, and then the jersey itself. Damn, he looks good. The jersey looks good—you had designed it after all.

You hadn’t always wanted to be an AHL jersey and logo designer, but through a combination of hard work and dumb luck, you are now the hand behind a myriad of teams’ looks, including the Devildom Dogs and the Celestial City Chols. Not that many people know about the person behind the designs. The average person is typically a lot more invested in the person wearing the jersey, not the one designing it, which is just fine with you. With the amount of money you’re getting, you honestly don’t need recognition.

That paycheck allowed you to purchase the highest level VIP season tickets for the season, managing to snag the seat closest to the home team benches, meaning you’re only a few feet from the team. Simeon had laughed when you’d told him this, but you hadn't cared. Now you can make sure he heard you when you yelled at him for his playing.

As you wait out the warmups, you try to compare this rink with that of your old team. The biggest difference that you could sense was the vibe. Back at the Chols’ rink, the air had been light, filled with more excitement than anything else. But here, it’s different. There’s a bloodthirsty undercurrent running through the crowd, a cutthroat competitiveness that’s completely new to you. The fans are already bothering the opposing team, hurling taunts and insults their way, with the mascot of the Devildom Dogs, an iteration of Cerberus the three-headed dog, whipping the fans into an even crazier frenzy.

And it’s not only the fans that are different; the players are, too. Even within the League, the Dogs have a reputation for playing fast and dirty, masterfully bending the rules without breaking them. You’ve always been impressed by them (not that you’d ever admitted it before, as doing so would have been treason to the Chols), but you’re kind of excited to be able to openly study and praise their skilled playing. Especially since you hope this will give Simeon the team that he needs. It had been clear to you, that he was a cut above the rest in the Chols. Not that that was a bad thing, but now you hope he can be matched, have the room that he needs to stretch his wings and fully use his talent without his team falling behind.

Before you know it, warmups come to an end. The non-starting players file back into the benches and you’re proud to see Simeon remaining on the ice. He’d been traded during the off-season, so it had completely taken you both by surprise to hear he’d be a starter, considering all of the veteran players on the team.

You stand for the national anthem, then finally, finally, the puck is dropped. The team they’re playing against today is one you’re not all that familiar with, and honestly couldn’t care less about, so you focus your attention more on watching Simeon play than you do the game as a whole.

Due to the proximity of your seat to the benches you’re able to hear the chatter of the players, the coach barking orders, and even the signal to change lines. It’s a whole new experience. When you’d go to watch the Chols’ games, you were in the VIP lounge, which, while pretty fancy and awesome, was removed from the ice and the actual grittiness of the game.

Plus, you never got a moment to yourself. All of the other wives and permanent girlfriends had always wanted to chat, and while they were pleasant enough, sometimes you just wanted to lose yourself to the game, yell and scream with the rest of the crowd.

Simeon is on a line with Solomon, who’s a forward, and Leviathan, who’s a left-winger. He’s playing hard and well, proving he deserves to be on this team. You egg him on from your seat, making an effort to have your voice heard above the crowd. The Dogs are playing fairly clean tonight, and you wonder if it’s because it’s opening night.

Or maybe it’s because they don’t need to play dirty. It’s clear they outclass the opposing team in every way, their insane training schedule paying off. The boys are blurs on the ice, and hardly ever on your side of the rink, as they’re pushing hard to keep the puck near the opposing team's goal. At least you’ll be able to see better when they switch sides in the next period.

Simeon returns to the benches and gives you a grin, chugging water. You flutter your fingers in a wave, mouth twisting with a smile. Solomon, following his gaze, locks eyes with you, and you flick a glance between them before turning back to the game, determinedly not looking over. Your eyes are drawn to Diavolo and Lucifer, the defensemen currently on the ice. The other pair you’ve seen tonight, Barbatos and Belphegor, are good, but these two… they’re something else.

They move in perfect formation, seemingly able to anticipate one another’s actions. You remember that Simeon had said they’ve been together since the Q, even were drafted together which is practically unheard of, and now you understand why. They’re menaces of black and red, and it would be a complete shame to separate them. There was even talk of Diavolo moving up to the NHL at one point, but after he became captain he chose to stay down.

You watch as Diavolo steals the puck from under the opposing team’s nose, sending it neatly toward Lucifer, who delivers it right to Asmodeus. He, like the rest of the team, is incredibly talented, but unlike the others, he relies on speed and agility rather than brute force. You’d read somewhere he’d taken a fair amount of figure skating classes to improve his balance and form, and it’s really paid off.

Asmodeus takes the puck all of the way down to the other end of the rink, passing to Mammon, who scores. You’re on your feet with the rest of the arena before you can think, cheering loudly. The boys do a quick celly then get right back to business, switching out with Simeon’s line.

The players on the bench all slap Mammon on the back as he takes his seat, casual as can be.

“You should have sent it to me,” Satan grumbles, barely audible over the din of the crowd and you unashamedly eavesdrop, not even bothering to hide your stare. Around you, the other superfans are still celebrating and their enthusiasm is infectious.

“Whatever,” Mammon shoots back. “I got it in, didn’t I?”

Asmodeus laughs, light and airy. “Barely.”

“Can it, dipshit.” Mammon leans over and smacks him on the shoulder, and you notice he’s taken off his gloves. You smother a chuckle, then return your attention to the ice. The opposing team’s fighting pretty hard, but they’re clearly fighting a futile battle. Any time they manage to get the puck near the Dogs’ goal it’s quickly sent back across the ice, and the few rare times they do manage a shot, it’s easily stopped, mostly by the d-men or the goalie. It almost seems like the Dogs are toying with them, letting them get close to scoring and then removing the chance completely, then repeating the action.

Frustrated, one of the players on the opposing team lashes out, dropping his gloves and rounding on Simeon. He dodges the clumsy blows easily, putting him in his place with a clean uppercut. The ref finally gets between them, taking longer than normal, something you’ve noticed from watching the Devildom Dog’s old games is pretty usual for their arena. They tend to let them go a little longer, which gives the Dogs a better opportunity to beat the shit out of the other players with beautiful brutality. The Chols had been all about good sportsmanship, so fights were a lot less common with them than the average team.

You wish you had been filming, but no doubt there will be videos online depicting the fight thanks to some other fan uploaded within the hour.

Simeon is unscathed, but the other player spits blood across the ice, glowering at him. You let out a long whoop, and he half turns towards you, lips curving up in a small, feral smile. You can already see it—this change is good for him.

They both get a few minutes for roughing, but Simeon looks all too happy to be in the sin bin. You can’t help but snap a few pictures, throwing them on your story. The game resumes with more energy, with both the players and the crowd whipped up into more of a frenzy. The fans want blood, or at least for crushing defeat to be delivered, and it seems like the team’s hellbent on delivering. It’s a fantastic game, wilder and more energizing than you’ve seen in a long time, and you can’t help but be excited for the upcoming rest of the season.

As the game draws nearer to the end, the opposing team pulls their goalie, but quickly puts it back after the Devildom Dogs score yet another goal, increasing the already sizable score gap. When the buzzer finally goes off signaling the end of the game, the away team looks utterly defeated while the Devildom Dogs celebrate. You catch a few curses and middle fingers shared between teams, and again, have to laugh.

You stand and cheer with the rest of the crowd, reveling in the thrill of the win along with the team. Simeon’s in the center of it all, receiving congratulatory slaps and fist-bumps, and you know without a doubt he’s been accepted as one of their own. You’re a bit relieved—he’d been worried about not getting along with the others. Not that it’s necessary at this level of playing, but at his center, Simeon likes being liked and had been worried about how he was being received.

Around you, fans start making their way out of the auditorium, and you follow, knowing Simeon’s going to go out to celebrate with the rest of the team. You feel eyes on you as you leave. You look over and make eye contact with the team captain, Diavolo, who gives you a half genuinely warm, half inquisitive smile. You tilt your head and smile back, slightly teasing, then turn away.

∙

The walk back to your and Simeon’s shared apartment isn’t far, but it is a bit chillier than it is this time of year in Celestial City, so you’re grateful when you’re able to close the door behind you. You send off a quick text to Simeon telling him you’d made it safe, then just pause for a moment, digesting the game. The boys had played great, your jerseys had looked fantastic, and you were pretty sure you’d already caught the attention of some of the players. You’ll get to know them all eventually, or at least that’s what you assume since you’d been so familiar with the CC Chols, so you’re not too worried, but the image of that smile the captain had sent you plays in your head. It’s unusual for fans to be given attention like that, so you wonder if Simeon’s already said something about you.

Shaking yourself, you start your bedtime routine and change into more comfortable clothes. You won’t actually go to sleep for a while, perks of making your own hours and being a night owl, but starting it early never hurts. You also need to stay up for Simeon, as you know he’s going to want to tell you all about the game from his perspective. You’re excited to hear it, as well as excited to hear what hanging with the guys after is like.

Time passes, and with no word from him, you begin to get a little worried. It’s not unheard of for him to come home late. If he were with the Chols, you wouldn’t be worried at all, but he’s in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar guys, you’ve heard about the hazing horror stories. You uneasily move around the apartment, trying to convince yourself that you’re overreacting. Suddenly your phone rings, that familiar ring-tone carrying through the air, and you hurry to answer it, raising your phone to your ear.

“Simeon?” you ask breathlessly.

“Uh, not Simeon,” an unfamiliar voice says, and you jerk back, checking the caller ID. It is Simeon’s number. “My name is Diavolo, I’m captain of the Devildom Dogs hockey team, the one that Simeon recently joined. I’m not sure what all you know or who you are, but your name is favorited in his contacts, and I think Simeon needs to get picked up. I would drop him off myself,” he adds regretfully, “but I’m a little buzzed and don’t want to get behind the wheel.”

“Totally understandable,” you assure him. “Is Simeon okay? What happened?”

Diavolo sighs. “Solomon and Asmo happened. They’re two other team members and they love welcoming the new team members with open arms. And lots of booze.”

“Are you saying he’s drunk?” you ask, finally catching his drift. “Simeon doesn’t typically drink much.”

“Asmodeus can be very persuasive. And not like, black-out drunk, but definitely feeling it.”

“I see. Well, what bar are you guys at? I can swing by to pick him up now, if you’d like?”

“That would be great,” Diavolo sighs with relief, and his warm tone sends butterflies through your stomach. He gives you the location and you realize it’s only a few blocks from your apartment, easily within walking distance. You’ll walk there, and if needed, call a rideshare back.

“I’ll be there in like, fifteen minutes,” you say, already pulling on your shoes. You look like crap, but honestly, you’ve never been one to care about things like that. If Simeon’s drunk enough that you need to pick him up, you really don’t want to waste time.

“Okay, thank you. And I’m really sorry about all of this,” Diavolo says earnestly. “I’ll be having words with Solomon and Asmo both about this.”

“Don’t be,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s only natural they’d get rowdy after a win, and I’m sure you have your hands full with everyone else. I totally get it. As long as it’s not a repeating occurrence. I can’t come and get him after every game.”

Diavolo laughs, deep and warm. “Yes ma’am. See you in a few.”

You hurry to the bar, hand wrapped around your pepper spray. Though Celestial City has been pretty safe, you know that the Devildom is less so, but there are enough people still out that you don’t feel too sketched out. When you arrive at the bar, you walk in, scanning the room for the team. They’re easy enough to spot, and you make your way over.

“No more autographs,” someone groans as you approach, and you realize it’s Belphegor, the d-man who plays beside Barbatos.

“I’m not here for that,” you say, and everyone looks over. You only have eyes for Simeon, who’s slumped over in a booth, tapping away on his phone. “Get up,” you demand, poking him in the side.

While he struggles to sit up properly, sluggish from the booze, you lean over to Diavolo.

“Hi,” you say, clearing your throat, “I’m MC. We spoke on the phone earlier.”

“You’re the chick who was at the game,” Mammon crows, pushing himself next to you before Diavolo can reply. “It’s nice to meet ya!”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, taking him in. He’s tall and muscular, but nowhere as near as broad as Diavolo, who is honestly, a hunk of a man.

“Thank you for coming,” Diavolo says gratefully. “I’ve been giving him water to help him sober up but he’s still tipsy. You got here quickly.”

“Yeah, well, our apartment is only a few blocks from here,” you say with a shrug, pulling Simeon up to his feet.

“You live together?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of honey-blonde hair and Asmodeus as he speaks up. “Are you two married?”

Before you can reply, Simeon laughs, and it seems like he’s starting to sober up a little. “No. Lord, no.” He continues to laugh, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes and clarify, “No, Simeon and I are childhood friends. When he got traded to the Devildom Dogs I decided I was sick of the CC Chols and followed. And it’s a good thing I did,” you say severely, turning your scolding to Simeon, “because look at the state you’re in.”

“Please,” a smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “if you’d been here you’d be way worse off than me and we both know it.”

Well, he’s got you there.

“Hey,” Simeon says, and it’s like a lightbulb has gone off over his head. “I just had the most genius idea. MC, let’s stay here for a bit so you can meet everybody.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you say doubtfully, and the boys all begin talking at once.

“No, no, sit down!” Diavolo encourages you, and after another moment of hesitation, you sit. Simeon slides back into the booth, scooting further over so you have room, and you make sure to jam him in the side with your elbow ‘accidentally’ as you’re settling. He pinches your side in return, but since you’re in public you can’t retaliate like you would at your apartment, or even back with the CC Chols, who were familiar with your relationship. Starting the night by getting into a hissy slap fight isn’t the image you want to start off with.

“Um, congratulations on the game,” you say. “You all played very well.”

“Of course we did,” Mammon crows, “we’re the fucking Devildom Dogs!”

“Mammon, be polite,” Lucifer, Diavolo’s d-man partner says, and Mammon makes a face. “Thank you very much,” he says, turning to face you directly. “I’m Lucifer, and this is…”

Lucifer introduces everyone around the table for you, and you do yours when they’re finished.

“So, MC, what do you do?” Satan asks.

“I’m a logo designer,” you reply. Simeon rolls his eyes at your vague response but doesn’t spoil your fun. “I run a small design business out of our apartment.”

“You must be pretty good to be able to afford those seats,” Solomon points out slyly. “That is if you’re a season ticket member? I guess you could have just bought it off the actual member for the night.”

“So, you’re not successful?” Belphegor asks.

Simeon shakes his head. “No, she is, but she’s also really humble.”

“Sure, humble,” you agree wryly.

“Is there anything you want to drink?” Diavolo cuts in, leaning over the table to be heard better, but you shake your head regretfully.

“Sorry, not today. One of us has gotta be able to manage getting us home.”

“Next time, then?”

A handful of men have pursued you in the past, but he’s definitely the most charming, you think as he gives you a look both guileless and expectant. And you’re not opposed, so you laugh and agree, “Sure, next time.”

“MC, was it?” Asmodeus purrs, and you turn to him. He knows damn well what your name is. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Ah, no,” you reply, and your mind flashes back to your ex-fiance. Your relationship with Raphael had been fun, but it was clear that neither of you were really interested in marriage, but the pressure took its toll. Honestly, your decision to move to the Devildom was a really good opportunity to start fresh. You were glad you didn’t have any reason to really see him anymore. “I broke off my engagement recently and I’m still trying to get back on the dating scene.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asmodeus says a bit awkwardly. You wish you’d given him a little less of the truth.

“Don’t be.” You give him a bright smile. “It wasn’t a bad relationship, we just realized that we weren’t compatible long-term and it was best to part ways.”

“Kudos to you for having the balls to break it off, then,” Diavolo speaks up suddenly. “That must have been difficult.”

“It was difficult at first, yeah,” you reply, “but it was the best choice and I don’t regret it.”

“Enough of that,” Simeon cuts in, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He can sense your reluctance to fully jump into talking about your failed relationship. “I think MC wants to know more about all of you.”

“That’s true,” you agree with a laugh. “A girl can’t help but be curious about the most notorious team in the AHL.”

“What do you think of us so far?” Satan asks, raising one neat eyebrow.

“You’re all a lot nicer than the rumors say, for one,” you begin, and Mammon laughs.

“Well, that’s because we like you so far. Believe me, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be callin’ us nice.”

“I’m almost offended,” Solomon says, putting a hand on his chest. “I’ve been described as a lot of things, but nice’? I deserve more credit than that!”

“Well damn, okay,” you say jokingly, holding your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t trying to offend. I guess you’re all also a lot funnier than I thought. In my experience hockey boys usually aren’t quite as witty as you’ve been tonight.”

“Was that an insult to hockey players?” Beelzebub grumbles to Belphegor, who nods seriously.

“I think it was.”

“Well not to you,” you say exasperatedly, and the honeyed laugh that you get from Diavolo feels like a win.

The night goes on with info and chirps being swapped back and forth, and by the time it’s time to pack up and all separate, you feel like you’ve gained a lot through this experience. Your worries are mostly assuaged; you’ve gotten to know all of the boys at least somewhat, and everyone now knows you.

“Well, we’re this way,” you say to Diavolo, who walked you out. Simeon is still inside, paying his tab, so it’s just the two of you under the entrance lights. The city is dark yet still busy, and you’re glad to see the nightlife is what had been advertised, lively and entrancing. “It was really nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me hang out and meet everyone.”

“We enjoyed your company,” he says smoothly. “Thanks for giving up your evening to spend time with a bunch of nice, witty hockey players.”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Nope.” His teeth glint in the light, standing out against his dark skin. He has a nice smile, you think to yourself before you realize you’ve been staring.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the interested expression on his face is any indication.

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.”

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him.

“A jersey?”

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring.

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you! “You can just give it to Simeon whenever it's convenient for you.”

“Oh, no,” he disagrees, “I think I’ve gotta give it to you directly, you know, to make sure it gets to you safe and sound. How about you swing by one of our practices next week? I can give it to you then.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you say, knowing you’re definitely free. “I’m a busy woman. Popular, too.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he recipes silkily, but before either of you can add anything else, Simeon appears, his suspicious eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“MC, stop your flirting so we can get home,” he instructs, and you laugh.

“As if you’re not the reason we’re still here. See you, Diavolo.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he calls as you walk away. “Next week, okay?”

“We’ll see,” you return without looking back. You both know that means ‘yes’.

∙

Cracking your back, you push away from your desk, finally finished with work. The Devildom Dogs reached out to you and asked for a Veterans Day design, so you’ve spent the whole day brainstorming potential ideas for the jerseys.

You were glad they contacted you, especially since they were asking for a rush job which meant you were able to get them to sign a contract that would pay you a lot of money. Man, you love your job. And money.

“Done with work?” Simeon asks, poking his head into your room. Your apartment was pretty modest so your workspace was in your bedroom, and honestly, though it was kind of cramped, the setup was pretty sweet.

“Yep,” you say, and he walks fully in, sitting on the bed. “Management of the Dogs reached out, they want Veterans Day jerseys.”

“What do you have so far?” he asks, and you spend a few moments looking at the designs you’d thrown together.

“I really like that one,” he says, choosing his favorite, and you make a mental note of that. Ultimately, it comes down to the people you’re working with with the Devildom Dogs, but Simeon has pretty good taste and is usually right about which design will get chosen.

“How was your day?” you ask. They didn’t have a game or official practice, but you were pretty sure you’d seen him heading out to the gym earlier in the day.

“It was good,” he says, flopping back onto his back, “but I’m tired. And I don’t want to cook.”

“I don’t either,” you admit. “Takeout?”

“My trainer’s going to kill me,” he grumbles but opens his phone and starts scrolling through the delivery options.

“You rarely go off of your diet plan,” you dismiss. “Once in a while won’t hurt.”

Within a few moments, Simeon’s placed an order at some sandwich place nearby. “Should be delivered within the hour.”

“Sweet.”

When the food comes, the two of you ignore your table to sit on the couch, putting on the shows you’ve been watching. You take a moment to snap a picture of him, the TV, and the food, and put it on your Instagram story.

It’s only a few moments before your phone buzzes and you see someone’s swiped up.

Diavolo_14: Is that meal trainer approved?

MC: What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him lol

Diavolo_14: I guess at least it’s sandwiches. Could be worse.

MC: And I convinced Simeon anyway, so blame me not him

Diavolo_14: Oh, I have no doubts about who’s responsible. What are you watching?

MC: Some dumb sitcom. IDK, Simeon and I just make our way through shows together for something to do

Diavolo_14: Jealous.

MC: Of the food?

Diavolo_14: Of Simeon. I want to watch dumb sitcoms with you.

“What—or who—has you smiling like that?” Simeon asks, leaning over to look at your phone. You turn it away from him, sticking out your tongue.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“It’s Diavolo, isn’t it?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“You better not try to warn me or him off, okay? We’re both adults and—”

“I literally do not care.” He gives you a sideways glance. “Unless he breaks your heart, of course. But other than that, do whatever you want.”

“Thanks for the heartfelt sentiment,” you say sarcastically, and he laughs. You’re so glad Simeon’s never been the overprotective type, as you’d definitely chafe under it. Over time, the both of you have mostly been a listening ear, only giving advice when asked, and it’s a system that works really well for the both of you.

With a start, you realize you’ve left Diavolo hanging, and go back to the DM thread.

MC: Is that so?

Diavolo_14: That is so. Now, when are you going to come to practice to get that jersey?

MC: Well, I was going to surprise you tomorrow…

Diavolo_14: And now I’ve ruined the surprise, haven’t I?

MC: Yeah lol.

Diavolo_14: Well, you should still come tomorrow.

MC: Alright, alright, see you then

Diavolo_14: Looking forward to it, MC.

His words send a flutter through your stomach, and you have a hard time focusing on the show for the rest of the night, too busy thinking about one, handsome captain of the Devildom Dogs. Simeon chirps and needles you for it, something you let him do because you probably deserve it.

“Whatever,” you finally say, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, get that beauty sleep,” he replies. “You need it.”

Grabbing a throw pillow, you chuck it in his direction, making a hasty retreat to your room.

It’s hard to fall asleep, but once you do, you have good dreams and wake up well-rested. Even though you’re really looking forward to Simeon’s practice, it’s not until the afternoon so you keep busy working on the Veterans Day jersey designs though your mind drifts more often than you’d like to admit.

You’ve only known Diavolo for a few days, but things are just so electric with him. Sparks truly do fly between the two of you and his flirting makes you feel giddy, but your last relationship wasn’t been filled with lots of laughter so you feel like you’re entitled to it. You wonder if he feels this way too. Does he feel the connection? What does he want with you? Before you can linger on the thoughts, you stand, forcing yourself to switch gears.

“Ready to go?” Simeon asks when you walk into the living room, and you nod. You have your laptop just in case you get bored (which you doubt will happen) and you put it in the backseat of Simeon’s car.

“This is so exciting,” you say, only half-kidding. “Behind the scenes with the Devildom Dogs. Do you think the others will mind me watching?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. Everyone likes you and this gives them a chance to show off.” Laughing, he says, “I think they might like you more than me.”

“That is so not true,” you argue with an eye roll. “They’ve only met me once. And how could they? Everyone has always gotten along better with you than me anyway.”

“Yeah, because I’m not annoying as hell,” he says nonchalantly, and you send him a glare.

“You’re so lucky you’re driving,” you threaten. “I don’t know why everyone always thinks you’re so angelic. You’re such an ass to me.”

“It’s deserved,” he points out, and okay, you have to agree.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the ice rink they use for practice, you waste no time gathering your shit and hopping out of the car.

“Nervous?” Simeon asks, and you scoff.

“As if.” It’s a half-lie. Maybe nervousness isn’t the right word. It’s more like… anticipation.

Simeon leads you through the back doors to the rink, and you look around, taking everything in. You’re assuming it’s open to the public when it’s not in use by the team and that theory is backed up by the presence of a skate rental sign pointing down another hall.

“You can hang out on the stands,” Simeon says, pointing like you don’t already see them. “I’ll tell everyone you’re here and they can do whatever they want with that info.”

You sit near the rink, but not directly in the front row, and mess around on your phone for a few moments. You’re expecting people to approach you from the ice so when someone taps your shoulder, you jump, looking behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” Diavolo says, holding out his hands in a peace gesture. His grin is easy and just as attractive as you remembered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re good,” you say. “I was just waiting for you to skate over to me, not walk.”

“What I’m hearing is that you were waiting for me.” He does something with his eyebrows that comes off as insanely attractive and you wonder just how desperate you are.

“Well, yeah,” you say. “I was promised a gift.”

“That you were,” he agrees. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little longer for it. I left it in my car and since practice is starting so soon I totally don’t have time to go and get it. Darn.”

“Is this your way of asking me out after practice?”

“Well, it was my way of asking to give you a ride home, but hey, that works too,” he chuckles, eyes sparkling with some positive emotion you can’t quite pin down. “As long as Simeon won’t get mad. I know you’re close friends.”

“Him?” You laugh. “He won’t be, first of all, because neither of us really cares what either gets up to romantically, and secondly, even if he was, it would be none of his damn business. I’m a grown woman with my own agenda and I’m glad he’s always recognized that. Even when we were younger,” you say with a sigh, “he’d let me get myself into all sorts of scrapes and situations, then just smugly tell me it was my own fault. Nothing serious, of course, but out of the two of us I’ve always been rasher and he definitely uses that for his entertainment.”

“Seriously?” Diavolo questions. “He seems so kind and nice. I have a hard time believing that.”

“That’s because he wants you to think that,” you tell him darkly, and the laugh you get in return is glorious, full-bellied and rich.

Not noticing your sudden stupor, he sighs, catching his breath. “Well, I better get on the ice. Duties of being a captain and all of that.”

“What, actually having to show up to practice and set a good example? So hard.”

“You get it,” he says, and you shake your head, unable to stop your smile.

“Watch me on the ice?” he asks, beginning to walk away backward.

“Obviously,” you say, “but Diavolo…”

“Yeah?” he begins to reply, then trips over a bench, stumbling to the ground.

“...there’s a bench behind you,” you finish, and the gobsmacked look on his face is one you endeavor to remember, pressing into your memories.

The boys waste no time getting into the swing of practice, though you receive a few looks and waves. Their drills are intense and difficult looking, but they make them seem easy. Watching them makes you yearn to get back on the ice, a feeling you haven’t had in a while. Maybe you should see what days the rink offers open skate and pull yours out of your closet.

Watching them makes you feel oddly nostalgic. Both for the Chols and for the rec league with Simeon. You’d played hockey with him through school, quitting in college when he’d been scouted directly to the Chols. You’d been the forward to his right wing, and though you’d never had the same amount of sheer talent as him, you’d been no slouch.

But as time went on, you’ve been satisfied with just watching. Marveling at the feats the Chols were able to do on the ice, rather than rush to attempt them yourself as you might once have.

You’d been on the ice with the Chols a few times, but after the first year, the novelty had worn off. You’d shifted to the stands after your engagement, sticking with the other girls, and again, while that had been fun, you’re realizing now that you truly, sincerely missed the feeling of skating.

The coaches hardly pay you any attention, and while you’d thought that maybe your presence would have distracted the boys, they’re all business, showing you a much more serious side than you’d seen so far. Discounting that first game, of course.

Before you know it, the practice is halfway over. It’s going by way too fast!

“Hey,” Simeon calls from the ice, grabbing your attention. “We’ve got a five-minute break. Come down here!”

You roll your eyes but stand, crossing the short distance to the edge of the rink. He’s out of breath and sweating, clearly working hard on the drills.

“What do you think, huh?” he asks, putting a hand on the board.

“Yeah, I want to know!” Mammon cries, skating over and almost running into Simeon. “Cooler and better and more awesomer than the Chols?”

“‘Awesomer’ isn’t a word, dimwit,” Belphegor says, clearly listening in on the conversation, and you laugh.

“Way awesomer than the Chols.”

“Glad you think so,” Diavolo says from behind you, and you jump. Again. Man, he’s really got to stop doing that. Or maybe you need to be more attentive; you hadn’t even seen him get off the ice! He’s sweaty too, hair sticking down slightly on his forehead, but unlike with Simeon, you drink the sight in. God, this man gets more and more attractive every time you see him. “Did you see me out there?”

Honestly, he was pretty much all you could look at.

“Of course I did.”

“Was it impressive?”

Mindful of Simeon, Belphegor, and Mammon (whom Diavolo doesn’t even seem to care about), you choose your words with care. “Don’t fish for compliments.”

He grins, opening his mouth to speak, but before he can, the coaches call everyone to the ice.

“Stop your flirting, Captain!” Mammon cackles, and Diavolo sighs.

“I barely even got to talk to you!”

Your heart flutters. “Well, I’ll be here after practice…”

“That you will,” he says dorkily, looking all too excited. How can this man go from unbelievably sexy to cute so quickly?

The rest of practice flies by, and when it’s called to an end, anticipation bubbles in your chest. Diavolo nods towards the shower, and you give him a thumbs up. Simeon shakes his head with a laugh, and you can’t help but flip him off.

You pack your things slowly, or maybe it’s that Diavolo showers quickly, because he walks out of the locker room at the same time you approach it. And lord, if you’d thought sweaty Diavolo was attractive, then what was post-shower Diavolo? Off the fucking charts is what. His shirt, slightly damp, sticks to his chest in a way that makes you want to drool.

“Ready?” he asks, taking your laptop bag from you before you can protest.

“Of course.” You gesture for him to lead the way. “I’m excited to see this jersey after hearing so much about it.”

“And I’m excited to see you wear it,” he replies smoothly, and your cheeks heat up.

“Sweet talker.”

“Honest,” he corrects amusedly, holding the door for you as you exit the building into the parking lot.

His car is nice. Much nicer than Simeon’s well-loved and well-worn sedan, it’s sleek and expensive looking. Too bad you’re not much of a car girl, otherwise you’d definitely appreciate it more. You notice it’s also clean and smells good when you buckle in.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Diavolo says, sliding into his own seat. “Burned off a lot of calories at practice there.”

“What about your meal plan?” you question, faux-innocently, and he raises his eyebrows.

“What my trainer doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he replies, repeating your earlier words back to you. You can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I’m hungry too, so I think lunch is a great idea,” you say. “I’m obviously new around here so I’ll let you choose. Now, I want to be impressed.”

“Yes ma’am.” He starts up the car and smoothly exits the parking lot. “How about my favorite brunch place?”

“Isn’t it a little late for brunch?” you ask, and he shrugs.

“Eh, they serve brunch all day.”

“That sounds good to me,” you say, and he grins.

“Good, because it’s literally right down the road.”

∙

Once you’re seated inside, Diavolo takes the menu from your hand and sets it aside. “You won’t need this,” he says. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I didn’t know I was dining with an expert,” you joke. “Fine, I’ll trust you. But if you get me something I don’t like, get ready to pay the price.”

“If it’s you—” he waggles his eyebrows devilishly “—I wouldn’t mind getting punished.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts and images that had arisen from his words, and take a long sip of water. “So, um, what do you like to do?”

“Play hockey.”

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean, dipshit.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s see… I enjoy running, especially at this park near my place. The sunrise is super pretty. And I spend a lot of time with Barbatos and Lucifer too.”

“You do?” you ask, surprised. They were pretty close for a professional team but you hadn’t known it was that close.

“Yep. Been friends with them forever. Barbatos, for as long as I can remember—I’m pretty sure our parents introduced us in the hospital—and Lucifer and I met at a camp years ago. It’s honestly pretty crazy we made it to the same team.”

“Wow,” you say, remembering reading headlines of the unexpected draft pick for both of them, “that is crazy. I’m glad you guys are all so close.”

“Well, most of us have been on the team for at least a season,” he replies. “I’m glad Simeon’s growing closer with us too. He seems like a really cool dude.”

“He is,” you reply, “but don’t tell him I said so. He’d never let me live it down.”

Diavolo winks, miming locking his mouth with a key. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The waitress comes to take your orders then, and you leave it all to Diavolo. He gets the same dish for the both of you, promising it’ll be worth it.

“I hope so,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never heard of a dish called ‘Hotter Than Hot Toasted Sandwich’. It’s a good thing I like spicy food. What would you have done if I didn’t?”

He looks sheepish then, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I asked Simeon just to be sure.”

The thought put into it touches you, and you look down, then up at him through your lashes. “I see.”

The conversation drifts, moving from one topic to another with ease. And that’s what things are with Diavolo. Easy. He’s kind and funny, attentive to your feelings, and seems to find you just as appealing as you find him.

That is, if you’re reading the signs right, but honestly it’d be kind of hard to interpret his actions otherwise.

Your food arrives, and thankfully, it’s as delicious as he’d promised. You both finish eating at around the same time, and as if she’d been waiting, the waitress comes and drops off the check. Before you can move, Diavolo has his card out, a shiny black Amex, and sets it on the table.

“I’m not going to argue,” you say with a laugh, and he smiles.

“Good. I want to treat you.”

“Careful,” you warn playfully, “or I might get used to it.”

He leans forward, a little more serious. Those eyes burn into you, making you breathless even though he hasn’t said anything. “And what if that’s what I want?”

You blink at his sudden bluntness. It’s almost hard for you to believe what you’re hearing. That a man like him is interested in a girl like you. Not that you’re not a catch, but damn, he’s out of this world. “Well,” you finally say, “I guess you’ll just have to keep taking me out to prove it.”

“If that’s what it takes,” he says lowly, “then I’d be happy to provide. Let’s get out of here.”

The waitress had apparently grabbed his card and returned it without you noticing, so when he stands, it takes you a second to follow. He leads you back to his car.

“Do you need to get back to anything or can I steal you for longer?” he asks, and you consult your watch.

“Unfortunately, I do have a work meeting in like an hour,” you reply reluctantly. “That's not enough time for us to really do anything.”

He frowns. “That’s unfortunate. I wanted to show you around the Devildom since I figured you hadn’t had much time to explore.”

“That’ll just have to wait until next time,” you say airily, and he shakes his head.

“You really do know how to wrap me around your finger.”

You give him the address to your apartment, and all too soon he’s pulling up outside of the building.

“I had fun today,” you say earnestly. “Thanks for taking me out.”

He reaches into his back seat and pulls a piece of fabric forward. The jersey, you realize, as he presses it into your hands. A smile blooms on your face.

“I had fun today too,” he says. “And I better see you wearing that to the game tomorrow. That is, if you’re coming.”

You unbuckle, throwing his door open. “Oh, I will be. Coming, that is. And wearing your number.”

∙

The season continues. You wear Diavolo’s jersey to the games, cheering for the Dogs with wild abandon, and they continue to win. And win, and win, and win.

(“It’s all thanks to Simeon,” Solomon faux-whispers to you at one celebratory post-game hang. “He’s way better at being my right than Asmo ever was.”

“Rude!” Asmo returns, jostling into Solomon’s side. Everyone laughs, and you easily join in. These boys, they’ve become a part of you, like you’ve become a part of them.)

Off the ice, you and Diavolo grow closer. You get familiar with his life outside of hockey, staying overnight at his apartment here and there when you both have the time. You haven’t put a label on it, something Diavolo seems to sense you’re not ready for, as the ended engagement with Raphael is still a little fresh, but it’s clear to the both of you that this isn’t some passing fling.

Before you know it, months have passed, and it’s playoff season. The Dogs obviously make it, having a perfect season thus far, as do the Chols, who had a rocky start to the beginning of the season, probably due to the changed dynamics without Simeon, but quickly redeemed themselves to finish strong.

(“We bring home the Calder Cup all of the time,” Belphie says with an eye roll. “How is this season any different?”

Mammon grins slyly. “It’s different for our dear Captain. After all, he’s finally got someone he wants to win the cup for.”

Diavolo’s hand, where it’s wrapped around yours, squeezes lightly.)

Diavolo offers to fly you out to the West Coast for the championship game, as somehow, the Chols made it into the final two. They never quite managed that when Simeon was on the team. You decline, not because you’re not going, but because you can fly yourself.

The bonus from both teams’ championship jerseys is sitting nice and pretty in your account right now.

You’re a bit nervous on the plane. Not because of the flying, but at the thought of seeing the Chols. Especially since this wasn’t any old game, but the championship one. It’d be a hard loss, for whoever doesn’t make it, and though at this point, your loyalties lie entirely with the Dogs, you don’t want to make anyone on the old team feel betrayed.

It’d also be your first time seeing Raphael in a long time, and the thought makes you a little scared. But you’re also hopeful. Hopeful that you’ll get to see people who were once your world again without it being too awkward.

Although, considering the rivalry between the teams you’re not sure how feasible that one is…

When you get off the plane, carry-on in tow, you text Diavolo that you’ve landed safely, not expecting his reply to come right away.

Diavolo_14: I’m glad you made it

Diavolo_14: Still not sure why you wouldn’t fly in with us though :((

MC: I told you, I had it covered. You can spoil me some other way, on a trip that’s unrelated to your games

Diavolo_14: Is that you saying you want to travel with me in the off-season? After all of this postseason stuff is completed?

MC: Yes but you already knew that.

Diavolo_14: I suppose I may have had an idea.

Diavolo_14: Anyway, don’t get in a taxi or anything, our hotel is within walking distance.

MC: I already had reservations somewhere else!

Diavolo_14: Reservations Simeon canceled

Diavolo_14: I was hoping it’d be a nice surprise but if you’re uncomfortable with it I can get your old room back.

MC: It’s not bad, and I am surprised. I just don’t want to distract you before such an important game.

Diavolo_14: Pssshh, this game is nothing. And you’re never a distraction <3

MC: Liar.

MC: Remember when I made you late to practice last week?

Diavolo_14: Oh yeah. Anyway, if you’re really fine with it you’d be sharing with me

Diavolo_14: It’s got a jacuzzi tub………

MC: You spoil me. Yes I’m fine with it.

MC: What’s the name of the hotel so I can walk there?

Diavolo_14: You should be able to see it if you go to the east entrance and look up.

MC: Oh, good, I’m near there. Hold on

Diavolo_14: Yeah just look up and over by the sign for the shuttle, then slightly to the left.

You do as he directs, eyes widening when instead of a hotel, you see a familiar head of red hair. He waves, and you cross the street in a hurry.

“Hey!” he greets, wrapping you in a hug. “You sure it was a good surprise? I was worried it’d be too much, but I really wanted you with me. If I went too far, seriously, tell me. I know we haven’t really talked about where we are but I really like you and it seems to be the same for you so I’d hoped it would be alright. Plus, Simeon said you’d like it. And yes, I’m totally throwing him under the bus right now in case you don’t,” he adds, trying to alleviate some of the seriousness.

You laugh. “I like it. And I like the idea of a jacuzzi tub. I’m all gross from the plane. And I do like you, a lot, so you have nothing to worry about there. It’s a sweet gesture.”

Diavolo leans in to kiss you then, something you return, pleased. Though it’d only been a few days of separation, you’d found yourself really missing him. Almost too much, you worried.

Once you break apart, Diavolo takes your bag from you, slinging it over his shoulder, and you can’t help but smile up at him. You twine your fingers through his, relishing the feel of the west coast. Though it was winter, the balmy beach weather was much nicer than the frozen streets of the Devildom. And to think you once considered this weather cold.

Diavolo and you mosey out of the airport and down the street, not in any particular hurry. When you do get into the lobby, you’re instantly greeted by half of the team, who’d apparently been stalking the two of you from the expansive windows.

“You made it!” Asmo cheers, eyes sparkling. “Now we can really have some fun!”

“Sorry, sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to be keeping MC all to myself for the time being,” Diavolo says, not sounding very apologetic. “We’ve got a date with the jacuzzi tub.”

“We?” you say, giving him a look. “Who said anything about ‘we’? I said that I wanted a bath.”

Simeon laughs, shaking his head, and you share a smile with him.

“No, no, come on,” Diavolo begs theatrically. “Don’t deprive me. Of the wonderful jacuzzi jets, of course,” he adds hastily, seeing your unimpressed look.

“You’d better be nice to him,” Lucifer warns you, in a tone you’ve only recently begun to recognize as his joking one. “I already gave up rooming with him for you, and I don’t need him complaining to me. Not when I now have to deal with rooming with these nitwits.”

“Hey!” Mammon and Simeon protest.

“It’s not like I said your names,” Lucifer says drily.

“Yeah, but it was clear you were talking about us,” Mammon responds, and their squabbling fades into the background as Diavolo pulls you to the elevators, mashing the ‘Close Doors’ button before anyone else can get on.

“You didn’t really mean that, did you?” he asks, turning to you. “You’re going to let me in the tub, right? If you don’t it might cause me to not play my best and lead to the Chols winning the cup tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Oh, we’re threatening now, are we?” you laugh, and he shakes his head.

“Not threatening, just informing.”

“I see,” you say. “Well, since I have a vested interest in seeing the Dogs take this game, I guess I’d better do anything that I can to ensure a win.”

“Anything?” Diavolo asks, eyebrows waggling, and you give him a sly smile.

“Anything.”

∙

“Are you getting hungry?” Diavolo eventually asks, and you roll over to better face him. He looks like a dream, hair spread across the pillow, dark skin beautiful against the white sheets. “Lucifer just texted; apparently some of the Chols want to meet up at a bar, do a little pre-game catching up. They really want to see Simeon.” He hesitates. “But if you don’t want to do that, we can grab food somewhere else by ourselves.”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “I’m not going to deprive the team of its captain. And, I have missed the boys. I’d love to see them. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Because of Raphael?” he asks gently. You’d filled him in on your past with the other hockey player, in bits and pieces, and Diavolo's been fully understanding, sharing his own stories of past love in return. You’d only grown closer through honesty, and you’re glad you’d been open with him, as now you don’t have to do any awkward explaining or suffer through any misunderstandings.

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Well, mostly because of him. But I think it’ll just be weird to see them all. The Chols were my life at one point, you know, so it’s just going to be bittersweet. I do want to see them, though,” you add firmly, making up your mind, “so let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” Diavolo reaches over, brushing across your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding.

“I’m sure. Now, stop touching me, because I need to actually get out of this bed and get ready.”

��You already look perfect,” Diavolo insists, and you bat his hand away, sitting up.

“Flatterer,” you reply cheekily. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the only one I want to see me like this. So let me get ready, alright?”

“Fine, fine,” he says. “I guess I’ll shower. Unless you want to join?”

“No!” you huff with a laugh. “Stop tempting me. And, we just took baths.”

“Well, I need a shower if we’re going to leave this hotel room,” he says meaningfully, and though your cheeks heat a little, you remain strong. Seeing that, he sighs, then stands, heading for the bathroom, leaving the door open as he dramatically turns on the shower, sending you enticing looks over his shoulder as he does so.

Once he finally gets in, you pull yourself out of bed, moving over to your carry-on. Thankfully, you’d packed a couple of outfit choices, not knowing what to expect. Choosing the most suitable, something casual and yet attractive, you get dressed, then realize you’re going to need the bathroom to fix your hair and do your makeup.

“I’m coming in,” you call, toiletry bag in hand. It only takes a second for his head to pop out from behind the shower curtain, excitement diminishing once he sees you’re dressed.

“Oh,” he says. “I thought you meant into the shower. But I guess not.”

“Stop it, you,” you say, turning on the sink to wash your face, and he laughs.

You’re almost finished with your makeup when the shower turns off, Diavolo stepping out a moment later with the towel low on his hips. You studiously ignore him, applying mascara with more focus than necessary. He doesn’t let that slide, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“You better not get me wet,” you warn, switching to your setting powder.

“I won’t,” he says, and you turn your head slightly, giving him a look from the corner of your eye. His chin rests on your shoulder, and when you turn, your faces are mere inches apart. Diavolo hugs you tighter, kissing you, and you’re glad you haven’t applied lipstick yet.

“Alright, alright, get off of me,” you say after a moment, a small smile crossing your lips. “Unless you want to have to take another shower.”

“Cruel woman,” Diavolo bemoans, but does as you say, disappearing into the other room to get dressed. He returns a moment later, in dark jeans and a t-shirt, one that displays the Dogs’ logo.

“You can’t be serious,” you say as he combs through his hair with his fingers.

“What?”

“Team merch, really?”

He cracks an attractive smile, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Of course. I’ve gotta represent, you know.”

You can only shake your head.

As you’re putting on your shoes, there’s a knock on the door. Diavolo answers it, revealing Barbatos.

“Oh, good, you’re both decent,” Barbatos says mildly, and you give him a glare. “We’re all headed downstairs.”

“We’re ready,” Diavolo says and you stand, making sure you have your purse. You all walk down to the lobby, Diavolo’s hand in yours the whole way.

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asks at one point, voice quiet.

“Nervous,” you reply honestly. “You?”

“Nervous,” he echoes. “But I think it’ll be fine. I’m excited to see Raphael and the others again.”

“I am too,” you agree. “It’ll be nice to catch up. Especially before we kick their asses tomorrow.”

Simeon laughs. “I like the way you think.”

As you get closer to the bar where you’re all meeting up, you can’t deny that your hands get a little sweaty and your stomach starts to knot. You know the worst thing you'll find is a shit-ton of awkwardness (or at least that’s what you really hope), and that once you see it through it’ll ease, but you’re still not super keen on putting yourself in the situation.

Ten minutes, you tell yourself, then things will be fine. Plus, you’ll have Diavolo and Simeon by your side and all the other boys to make distractions and break the ice.

Diavolo squeezes your hand as you enter the bar, and immediately, your eyes find the familiar sight of Raphael’s ash-colored hair. You gulp; there’s no turning back now.

“Hey!” Mammon calls out easily, and the boys turn. You recognize some others aside from Raphael, and thankfully a few have brought their wives, making it less awkward that you’re there and also giving you a breath of relief because you were familiar with them.

Raphael’s eyes lock onto yours, then sharpen on you and Diavolo’s linked hands. There’s no animosity in them, just that same awkward cautiousness you feel, another relief.

“Hey, come join us,” Raphael says, gesturing to the rest of the table. The bar staff, or maybe the Chols, had pushed a few tables together, making a monster table to fit the mishmash of people. You pull out a seat between Simeon—who’s across from Raphael—and Diavolo, who lets go of your hand as you sit. You smile at the girl across from you, not recognizing her.

“Hi,” you greet the table at large, among various other greetings being given. “It’s nice to see you all again, and nice to meet you, those I haven’t met yet.”

The girl across from you smiles at that, introducing herself as Thirteen, the main goalie’s sister.

“So, uh, how goes the season?” Raphael asks Simeon awkwardly. “You miss us yet?”

Simeon laughs. “Miss your snoring? Nah, not really. And the season’s going great, obviously. I’m glad you guys made it this far too, it’ll be fun to put you in your place.”

“Starting the chirping already?” Diavolo asks him, throwing an arm across your shoulders. “Careful, Simeon, I think we’re outnumbered here.”

“You’ve changed, Simeon,” Raphael says. “I think the Dogs are rubbing off on you. Anyway, MC, how have you been? Business going well?”

“Oh, yeah, your designs for this season are killer,” Thirteen adds before you can answer. “I mean, the font change for the Dogs’ numbers was such a good touch.”

“Oh, thank you,” you laugh. “I’m surprised anyone picked up on that! It’s such a small detail but really impacts the overall vibe of the Jerseys.”

Awareness dawns on Diavolo. “Wait. Are you talking about the team jerseys? As in, the jersey designs?”

“Bingo,” you say slyly. “My job: designing jerseys for sports teams. Mostly hockey teams.”

“I forgot you guys didn’t know,” Simeon says. “Yeah MC’s like, totally in charge of the jerseys. Remember the Veterans Day design? I helped with that.”

“Barely,” you snort.

“You’re serious,” Diavolo mumbles. “How did I not know that?”

You shrug. “Well, I didn’t mention it when we first met and it hasn’t really come up since. Anyway,” you turn back to Raphael, unable to hide your amused smile, “yeah, business is going well! Thanks for asking. How’s that knee been?”

“Oh, you know,” Raphael shrugs. “I’ve been more careful this season since I don’t have someone to nurse me back to health.” His ears steadily turn red as he realizes what he just said, and you’re sure you’re no better.

“Well,” you begin, but thankfully Simeon cuts in.

“You were always lucky with that. Lately, MC just throws an ice pack at me. No sympathy, I swear!”

“That’s because your injuries are all your fault,” you criticize. “Never stops when he should, this guy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m getting something from the bar. Raphael, you want something?”

They both head for the bar, and you sigh, slumping in your seat. Diavolo leans over to you, eyes concerned but also accusing.

“I guess we’ll talk about the jersey thing later,” he says, quirking his lips slightly. “I’m sure the team will be very interested to hear. Who knows, maybe they’ll have some design input.”

“Oh, god,” you say quickly. You hadn’t even considered that. “You’d better not tell them, I swear! I’ll kick your ass if you do.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he assures you, laughing. “But seriously, I can’t believe I’ve never known that. Now I feel like a bad person for not knowing something so basic. And also kind of like an idiot. I guess I just thought you were acquainted with the upper staff through me when it was really through your own work. Self-centered, much?”

“Really, Diavolo, it’s fine,” you assure him. “I was aware you didn’t know, even taking care to avoid bringing it up at the beginning. Now you do know, so you can stop feeling bad about it. And I’m sorry if you feel betrayed, that wasn’t my intention.”

“No, no,” he hastens. “It just reminds me how much I still have to learn about you.”

“Well, there’s lots and lots of time for that,” you reply, and he smiles, something in his eyes easing. You really hadn’t intended to hurt him with this and now just feel like an asshole. “And I have so much to learn about you, too. But I’m looking forward to it.”

Realizing how rude you’re being to Thirteen, perhaps at the same time, you and Diavolo turn back to her. So lost in your own world, you hadn’t realized Solomon had taken Raphael’s empty seat, now engaged in some fiery debate.

“Let’s stay out of that one,” Diavolo murmurs to you, as Solomon starts using four-syllable words he only pulls out when he’s trying to academically shame someone, and you nod.

Instead, you and Diavolo split up, talking to various people around the room. It’s nice for you to check in on the Chols’ players and their wives and partners, and they seem just as happy to see you. Any worries of tension (to you or to Simeon) disappear quickly, and you find yourself interacting with them just like you used to. One look at Simeon shows he’s faring well, surrounded by teammates old and new.

Warmth expands in your heart and you grab another drink from the bar, just happy to be with the people you love and care for.

(Your eyes find Diavolo as you think that, and though you don’t particularly care to dig into the sentiment, you find yourself comfortable with it all the same.)

Raphael finds you, eventually, offering another beer as a peace offering. You take it, looking at the man you used to love so dearly. You still love him, but only as a friend. Something settles in your chest at the confirmation of what you’d been suspecting: any lingering feelings for him have fully dissipated and you’re ready to move on. Fully.

He seems to realize this, and you suspect that he feels much the same way. The memories between you will hold a special place in your heart forever, sometimes even hurt, but you don’t regret the time you’ve spent with him. You only regret that you hadn’t met Diavolo sooner.

“You’ve got yourself a real catch,” he says, a little sleepily in the way you know to mean he’s slightly inebriated. Not too much, of course, but socially, as are most of the players. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m glad, you’re doing well too, Raphael. Congrats again on making it this far this season. Your playing has been incredible.”

“You’ve been watching?”

You sigh softly. “How could I not? Especially at the beginning of the season, when all I was doing was missing you. Guys. You guys. The Dogs are great, of course, but I can’t lie. They were a little intimidating at the beginning.”

He laughs. “You should see them on the ice.”

“Oh, I can imagine.”

A silence, soft and fragile like an early spring day falls between you two, and you give him one more smile. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” he promises, and you both exchange one more look, laying it all to rest, before you float off to find Diavolo, who’s conversing with Lucifer and one of the rookies from the Chols.

“Everything alright?” he asks, pulling you into his side, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into him. “Everything’s alright.”

∙

Excitement bubbles through your veins as you take your seat, one similar in position to the one you have at the Dogs’ home rink, basically on the ice and near the team box. The only difference is that you’re on the away side instead of the home, allowing you to continue to sit near the Dogs.

As a personal guest of the Captain, you’d been offered a plush VIP box but had declined, preferring to get down and dirty in the thick of things as you always had.

Diavolo’s name sits proudly across your shoulders—his real jersey, not a replica sold to fans—and you inhale the spicy scent of his cologne (yeah, you’d asked to borrow it to spray on the jersey, so what), reveling in the electric feeling filling the arena. Though many of the fans are in the white and light blue of the Celestial City Chols, quite a fair amount of black and red can be seen throughout the crowd, showing the many diehard fans who’d made the trip across the country. The only similarities between the teams’ color schemes are the gold accents, glittering and shining under the harsh overhead lighting.

Everyone is excited for this game. Not only is it the last deciding game in the finals, the one that will determine who will take the freaking Calder Cup home, but it’s also between two rival teams. Two rival teams that are both determined to work themselves to the bone, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into winning (though not all of it their own, knowing the Dogs). It’s going to be a game that’ll go down in AHL history.

The minutes tick by and finally both teams take the ice for warm-up. The boys wave and smile, Mammon taking care to be an ass and send a puck right towards your face, as has become his pre-game ritual, but you really only have eyes for Diavolo.

Diavolo, who looks hot as hell in your championship jerseys (white, with red, gold, and black accents), who blows you a kiss as best he can around his mouthguard, who looks like he’s ready to lead his team to a very satisfying and devastating victory.

You would swoon but instead settle for yelling and screaming just as loud as the rest of the arena.

After the starting lineup is announced, with much more pomp and circumstance than the other games, and the national anthem is finished, you sit on the edge of the seat, watching as the ceremonial puck is dropped. It’s very nice and all, but you’re ready for the game to begin.

After what feels like forever, it finally does, and you watch as Raphael and Simeon face one another, kitty-corner. It’s surreal, after so many seasons of watching them play the same line. Diavolo and Lucifer aren’t far behind the forwards, and every member of both teams is completely and utterly focused on the puck.

The arena is so silent you could hear a pin drop as the music fades, and in a clatter of skates and sticks on ice, the puck is dropped. The Chols gain possession, the center sending the puck back to the left d-man, who sends it to the left winger smoothly. The Dogs don’t take that lying down, and chase after the puck. Levi gets there first, and manages to take the puck, passing it to Solomon, who forges a blazing trail down the ice. Amidst the various cheering and booing, you think, perhaps delusionally, you can make out Thirteen’s unique tone, screaming out her displeasure.

The Chols d-men are frustratingly persistent, and what follows is several minutes of back and forth, with both teams failing to make a goal. Shots are attempted by both sides, but are all blocked by the goalie or intercepted by other team members, and when Beel finally gets the puck in his glove, you let out a sigh of relief that they’re all able to take a break. You watch as the players all assemble for an end zone face-off, one that the Dogs win. Both teams are playing viscous and dirty, with checks rattling the boards all around.

“Get it out of there!” you scream, as yet another attempted goal shot is made, and as if they hear you, the forward line, which is now Mammon, Asmo, and Satan, push back towards the Chols’ goal. A brief scuffle near the defending line takes place, and the ref whistles, calling offsides on the Chols.

The first period passes without any goals, despite both teams' desperate pushing. Though neither side scores, you know it’ll only be a matter of time in the second, as the Dogs have been gaining momentum as the night goes on.

You whistle at the boys as they make their way from the bench to the locker room and Diavolo grins up at you, pulling off his helmet. He’s sweaty and out of breath, but handsome as all get out, and you’ve never been prouder to be bearing his name on your back.

When the teams finally return after the break, you’re back on your feet, cheering as they take the ice. The Dogs gain possession of the puck in the first face-off, heading the opposite way than they had been previously due to the goal switch, unstoppable. Asmo, who has the puck, leaves the other team in the dust, zipping through and shooting in the blink of an eye. It goes in, as you’d hoped, prayed, suspected, and the roar of the crowd is thunderous. You can’t help but imagine what it’d be like in your home arena, in your home city.

And it's odd. Sometime, over the course of the season, the Devildom had truly become your home. It’s not a shocking thing, by any means, but serves to make you cheer that much louder and clap that much harder.

With a goal under their belts, the Dogs have a new fire lit beneath them. But the Chols aren’t giving up easily, and once Raphael checks Simeon hard across the boards in front of you. He’s a fearsome one when it comes to that, known even during his rookie days for his painfully-placed and technically legal elbow placements, and you wonder if the smile that had been shot your way was purposeful. Simeon skates it off impressively, though you know he’ll be aching later.

Diavolo does a great job staying on top of defense, and you’re aware of that same ease between him and Lucifer that you’d picked up on during their very first game together. You’d gotten to know Lucifer well during the season, and you make a mental note to yourself to take extra care when making his ‘good job on winning the Cup’ basket, to thank him for being such a great friend and partner to Diavolo.

When the two of them go back to the bench, switched out by Barbatos and Belphie, Diavolo waves at you in between great big gulps of water, and you make sure to take lots of pictures when you can tear your eyes from the game.

The CC Chols score as well during the second period, tying them up as they go into the third. Though you’d think they’d all be quite tired, neither team is flagging, both playing and pushing hard. The Chols get another goal in, unfortunately, when Beel’s just a tad too slow, and you’re once again aware you’re in the fan minority as the crowd goes wild.

They stay in the lead for several heart-pounding minutes, and apparently fed up with the tension, Mammon drops gloves, firecracker personality on full display. He gets the Chol player into a headlock, raining punches down onto him until he’s pulled off by the refs, much to the crowd’s disappointment. That gets him a few minutes in the sin bin, and you groan, knowing what a disadvantage the Dogs are at. The last thing they need is to be two down in the final period!

Diavolo rallies the team, showing his incredible skill and prowess as a captain, and thankfully, the Chols are unable to use the power play to their advantage, and Mammon skates back onto the ice like a hellcat.

Gameplay is stopped again after elbowing is called towards a Chols player, and you cheer as he gets some time in the box. Unlike the Chols, the Dogs score on their play, tying it all back up. Satan manages to scare and gets piled on by the team, and for once, he’s not pushing them back, a rare smile lighting up his face.

The end of the period draws nearer and nearer, and yet neither team pulls ahead. Anxiety and excitement are racing through you, and you continue to scream out your support, even as your voice grows hoarse.

Will this game go into overtime? That almost never happens in a finals game like this!

But as you resign yourself to the possibility, Simeon takes possession of the puck, passing it to Solomon, who goes to take a shot, and upon realizing he doesn't have a clear one, gives it right back. Simeon doesn’t hesitate, finely honed instincts taking over, and delivers it into the net with only a few minutes left of play. You scream, cheering as loud as you can, and the celly that follows is almost disrespectful, lasting a bit too long.

Though the Chols don’t give up, they're unable to get another point before the buzzer sounds, and you can hardly believe it. The Dogs won! Your team won the fucking Calder Cup!

The boys celebrate in the ice, hefting Simeon up and onto their shoulders and Diavolo takes the cup and delivers it right into his waiting gloves. Simeon hefts it, grinning and crying, and you feel yourself crying too, unable to believe how far he’s gotten, the monumental feat he’d just completed.

Diavolo’s eyes find yours, and hastily, he skates for the bench, fitting on his skate guards sloppily. As if he expected it, the door attendant pulls open the door to the dating section, still blocked by the metal gate, and you reach for him through the bars, glad they’re wide enough for you to pull him close by the pads and kiss him long and hard. Fans around you boo and scream, but you’re lost in your own world, lost in him.

“I love you,” Diavolo says as he pulls away, breathing heavily. He’s crying too, but his smile is ear-to-ear, and you pull him in again, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and forehead, overwhelmed by your joy.

“I love you too,” you say, and finally, someone opens the gate between you, and Diavolo lifts you up into a hug, kissing you again. You hear camera shutters and see flashbulbs go off and have no doubt your image will be all over articles and social media posts by tomorrow, but can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually, Simeon joins you, and you break from Diavolo to hug him tightly, both of you breaking down fully into sobs.

Diavolo lets you have your moment with your best friend, but Simeon’s soon stolen away by members of the team and you’re all shepherded out of the stands and off the ice so the boys can do their post-game photos and interviews and the like. Diavolo hesitates to pull away, but you shove him along, smiling.

“Go,” you say. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

“I love you,” he says again, a little helplessly.

“I know.”

How did you get so lucky, with this man, this team, this life? You watch the boys, heart bursting, and can’t wait to support them for their next season as well.

Although, not before you and Diavolo do everything you want during the offseason, including traveling and exploring, putting some of both of your accumulated wealth to good use. You’ve heard the Maldives are pretty this time of year, and nice and relaxing for Diavolo to recover. And private, you think with relish. The hotel you pick will be private. Very, very private.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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mountslove333 · 1 year

Text

SMILES- MASON MOUNT

TW- swearing, happy relationships

REQUESTS OPEN PLS REQUEST JUCIY IDEAS!!!!!!!

SMILES - MASON MOUNT

——————————————————-

BLURB?

you had a had a tough day at work, actually a tough week and mason knew that so everyday after work when u arrived home he made it his mission to make you smile.

——————————————————-

MONDAY-

i flicked my shoes off as soon as i walked through the door throwing my bag down and mumbling sour phrases under my breath. id not stopped all day and all i wanted to do was come home and relax with mason but my agitated state didn’t even let me notice him stood Infront of me, confused look upon his face.

“you okay love?” he asked creeping closer to me offering embrace

“yes mase just a stressful day” i told him truthfully accepting his affection.

the scent of his cologne immediately making me feel more safe and relaxed a smile welcoming itself onto my face.

“come on let’s go upstairs and watch a film” he told me grabbing my hand and leading me up our carpeted stairs

———————————————————

TUESDAY-

different day, same story. your boss had been on and on at you all day, your feet hurt from the stupid heels that you now had to wear for work and to make it worse mason wouldn't be home for an hour after you got home and all you wanted right now was to be with him.

you finally arrived home and placed your bag down before finally taking off your heels. finally, you felt instant relief. a sigh left your lips as you reached the sofa briefly before checking the time. seeing you still had an hour before mason arrived you thought you'd just do some work to make your day easier tomorrow. while going to retrieve your laptop you also poured your self a glass of wine then sat at your kitchen island an began going through emails.

before you knew it you'd been sucked into the whirlpool of work and without even realising an hour later the jingle of keys made your head snap up too greet the face of your boyfriend

“mason” you smiled

“didn't even have to try today” he mumbled now grinning himself

“what baby?” you questioned not hearing what he said

“nothing, nothing.”

“when'd you get home?”

“how long have you been working for?”

“you not even got changed yet, you always get changed first thing” he began to question you a concerned look gracing his face

“only an hour or so i think, just thought id try and get ahead of some things then got carried away” i told him beginning to shut some stuff down

“okay well your stopping now and letting me run you a bath” he told you lovingly

“i love you mase” you grinned

_________________________

WEDNESDAY-

it was the same old today, the only thing getting you through the day was the fact mason would already be home from training when you go home. so when it was time to go you couldn't be more thankful.

you made it opening the door to be greeted by a bored looking mason sat on the sofa scrolling mindlessly through his phone while some sort of sport was displayed on the tv Infront of him. he hadn't noticed you get and you decided to use the to you advantage and scare him.

you creeped slowly being careful to not make too much noise before reaching to a spot behind your sofa silently stopping for a second making sure he didn't hear you

“AHH” you shouted placing your hands on his shoulders

“FUCK” he shouted back jumping, then realising it was me

“y/n what the fuck that was terrifying” he said placing a hand on his heart still recovering

“I'm sorry mase you didn't see me and i couldn't not” you told him between fits of laughing sitting on the sofa

calming down he looked at you laughing state begging to smile scheming himself

“that's okay cos i just cant help doing this this” he smirked before beginning to tickle you making you fall back giggling uncontrollably

“stop stop mason” you begged between laughter

he just smiled

“say your sorry for scaring me and ill think about letting you go

“okay okay, I'm sorry mason”

“see that wasn't so hard” he smiled stopping

“you have to admit it was funny though” you grinned begging to lean into him on the sofa

“yeah yeah, shh you” he said before placing a kiss on your forehead.

________________________

THURSDAY-

today was a bit different, quieter then other days defiantly but you put that down to the fact your boss was off sick, and felt cruel thinking that the one day your boss was sick was the day your doing a half day, well only working till 2pm.

tonight was one of your good friends birthdays and you and a few friends were going out for meal and a few drinks, not wanting to stay out late dew to you all having work the next day, hence the early finish so you could go out earlier.

finally 2pm rolled around, you collected your stuff hurriedly, said your goodbyes and began walking to your car. then driving home, something else motivating your drive was that mason was going to be home, he didn't have training this day your not sure why but wasn't complaining as you got to spend to extra time with him while getting ready.

you reached home opening the door, mason was no where to be seen so you assumed he was upstairs

“mason?” you questioned beginning to go upstairs

“in here” he shouted from the bedroom

you followed his voice entering the bedroom and flopping down on the bed

“good day?” he asked chuckling

“just got better, you?” you told him rolling over to face him

“same” he smiled

“I'm going to go shower quickly cos i need to get ready for the birthday thing” you told him getting up and walking to the bathroom

“okay don't be too long I've missed you today”

“missed you too mase”

you finished showing, wrapping yourself in a towel, placed your old clothes in the washing basket then left the bathroom to sit on your makeup desk, mason still across from you on the bed

“how do you always look to beautiful?” he asked you

“shut up mason i looked like a drowned rat” you laughed watching him get up

he came up behind you so you were both looking into the mirror infront of you, his lips graced your neck making a soft trail down, your lips edging into a smile.

he looked up seeing you smile in the mirror

“do you have to go out?” he whined

“yes mason, you have me all to yourself tomorrow night though” you reasoned still looking at him through the mirror

“i better do”

________________________

a/n i love mason so had to write for him this probs sucks because i haven’t written in ages

love you all

also PART 2?????

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #chelsea #mason #mount #ben chilwell #footballer x reader #x reader #footballer imagine #football imagine #england #england imagines #imagine #imagines

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averagebsdenjoyer · 11 months

Text

random Fyodor hcs, but it's all stuff that happened to me because I kin him an unhealthy amount and my life is a mess.

note: I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 3 years so idfk what I'm doing, also english is like my 3rd language so once again idk what I'm doing. Might be ooc, but actually not because I said so.

°in his childhood when he was crying a bit too much his dad would drag him to the bathroom and half drown him, which is why he rarely shows any negative emotions. °liked to play chess with his dad, but somehow always lost. °anytime he hears keys in the door he gets a slight fright because it reminds him of when his dad got home. °read a lot as a kid, but kids at school would ignore him for that and call him a «nerd», so in 6th grade he forced himself to stop reading to blend in with the other kids.

°bites his nails and the skin around since forever, which is why his fingers are pretty ugly lmao. °hates to sleep in complete darkness because when he was a kid he’d get vivid nightmares.

°hyperlexic.

°fucking half blind, can’t see shit without his glasses, but refuses to wear them. °anemic. Iron defiency. Anytime he stands up too fast he almost passes out but acts as if everything is ok.

°began walking when he was 7 months old (there’s a video of me running in the hospital when I was like 7 month help) and no one believes him. °hates bananas and mayonnaise. Anything slimy tbh.

°hated pe with every cell of his body, physically couldn’t do cartwheel. Tried to learn it at home at 2am, banged his head against the wall and had to go to the emergency room. °we all know how well he plays the cello (I don’t.) but he can’t sing for shit. He just sucks at it. °greasy fucking hair, has to wash it every 2 days or he’ll become an oil factory. °DRY ASS SKIN. Nikolai constantly has to remind him to apply lotion. °likes to play black in chess. °can cook some basic foods, but overall would rather not cook at all. °sensory issues, he can’t stand most materials against his skin which is why he hasn’t changed in 10 years. °most people, specifically their ways of eating and talking piss him off so much he’s ready to get violent. THATS IT AND I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE.

#fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd #bungo stray dogs headcanons #fyodor hcs

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salazarslytherin · 3 years

Text

sex on fire (s.b x y/n)

summary: an encounter with sirius in the kitchen

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: smut, pussy slapping, fingering, dumbification, praise kink, like exhibitionism if you squint, age difference (reader is of age!)

word count: 2.14k

a/n: Inspired. SO HEAVILY by @thotbutpurple’s dilf!marauders headcanons, specifically this post for this imagine. also heavily inspired by @acosmis-t's fic peanut. honestly this is just, self-indulgent. might do a dilf!series, I'm not sure reblog to boost please xxx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

Some people would think that it’s weird to like someone almost twenty years your senior. And if we’re being honest, you thought the same too.

That was until Sirius fucking Black walked into your life.

One of your dad’s best friends from high school, Sirius appeared in your life when you were sixteen, riding back into town on a Bugatti motorcycle and a battered leather jacket. A photographer who’d travelled the world, he came back to your small town to spend time with his younger brother and his old friends from high school.

That spelt weekend barbecues at your house, watching the absolute hunk of a man walk around your house shirtless, or in the thinnest fucking white tank you’ve ever seen in your life. Whether Sirius owned clothes that weren’t band tees, white tanks, and ripped jeans, you didn’t know.

But secretly, you hoped he didn’t.

⚔︎.

Now it’s been three years since Sirius had returned, and yet another one of your dad’s friends’ barbecues was being held at your house. The men were out back barbecuing – they called themselves the Marauders, the name never not making you laugh. Unfortunately, this week you were unable to join them, holed up in your room to study for your finals.

With the weather heating up as it neared the beginning of the summer, you could feel each individual bead of sweat run down your spine. Unable to focus on anything with the immense heat and the overwhelming stress you were feeling, you took out your earphones and got up off your chair, deciding to go downstairs to get something cold to drink.

Opening your bedroom door, you could hear the music playing from the backyard, the booming laughter of the various men standing around the barbecue grill. Walking down the stairs, you recited the formulas you were revising earlier, not at all paying attention to anything around you. Stepping into the kitchen, you kept staring at the flashcards you held, opening the fridge door to grab the carton of juice you knew was in there.

“That focused, are we?”

The deep voice scared you, making the flashcards from your grasp fall all over the tiled flooring. You whipped around to see Sirius leaning against the kitchen sink, smirking as he watched you. You watched him in return, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he downed a gulp from his beer bottle.

Shaking yourself off, you turned back to the fridge and grabbed the carton, before placing it on the counter and closing the door. You bent over to pick up the flashcards that you had dropped earlier, only to hear a splutter of a cough behind you.

You turned around as you placed the cards next to the carton, seeing Sirius cough into his forearm, his abs flexing beneath the thin tank top he wore.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay, Sirius?”

The man waved his hand at you, placing the beer bottle between his lips as his eyes scanned up and down your body, smirking around the bottle.

“S’nothing, Y/N.”

Your eyes followed Sirius’s gaze, looking down to realise just exactly why he had his little impromptu coughing fit. Given the heat, you’d forgotten you were only wearing a thin tank top and booty shorts that day, meaning that when you bent over, you’d given Sirius quite the show. You felt yourself turn red as you realised, spinning around promptly to grab a glass from the upper cabinets.

Unfortunately for you, but quite a fortunate happenstance for Sirius, all the glasses on the bottom shelf had been taken outside for “public consumption”, and only those on the top shelf remained.

Conscious of your every move in front of the hottest man you had ever known in your damned life, you stood up onto your tippy toes, reaching for the glasses on the top shelf. You could feel your shorts riding up as you reached up as high as you possibly could, honestly just contemplating climbing on top of the counters to reach the glasses.

All you wanted was some damned juice.

As you struggled, you heard a chuckle sound behind you, then footsteps. Warmth emanating from behind you, and then a hard body pressed up against you. Your body tensed up as you felt Sirius’s body behind you, swallowing audibly. You saw a hand reach up above yours, the large appendage wrapping around the blue glass before receding as the warmth moved away from you.

“Here you go, pumpkin.”

The nickname made your mouth run dry as you turned around to take the glass from the man, smiling slightly at him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as your fingertips grazed his, having to grip the glass unreasonably tight as you felt your hands weaken at his warmth.

“Thanks.”

Your voice croaked at the word, Sirius’s smirk growing on his face yet again. You took the carton and poured yourself a glass, sipping on it as you leaned against the counter, mirroring Sirius who was back to sipping at his beer bottle.

You could feel your exam stress building up again as your hand reached for the flashcards again, flipping through them as you mouthed the different formulas and definitions written on them.

“Stressed, Y/N?”

You hummed in agreement as you focused on the cards in your hands, the glass having been returned to the counter as you sunk back into revision mode, barely registering the clink of the beer bottle being placed in the kitchen sink as the man made his way towards you.

“Want some help, destressing, hmm?”

You looked up at the man only to find him right in front of you, your body straightening up as you watched his teasing expression, lips curled and eyebrows raised.

You knew Sirius knew the way you felt about him. The way you sucked in a breath the first time you’d seen him, the way you licked your lips subconsciously at the sight of him, the way you thought about him when you touched yourself…

He wasn’t exactly subtle with hiding the innuendos.

You shook yourself free of those thoughts as Sirius watched you, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.

“More juice, maybe?”

The smirk only grew bigger as the man shook the carton slightly, uncapping it and tilting his head backwards, drinking straight from the carton itself. You watched with your mouth hanging open slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing entrancingly with every gulp.

“Oops, I might've finished it all. Though, I think there’s still a little more in here…”

Sirius watched you almost mockingly, mouth dropping open to show the bare minimum of juice left in his mouth.

The man knew you wanted him, and felt the exact same way towards you. He couldn’t help it.

The moment you stepped into the kitchen, he was a goner. The tank top clinging to your breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage, the shortest fucking shorts he’d ever seen you in barely covering your ass, the man was holding himself together by a thread at this point.

“Hmm? You want it?”

Sirius’s eyes scanned your every move, eyebrows raising as you pushed off the counter slowly.

“Come get it.”

⚔︎.

You didn’t know who moved towards who in that split second, only that a moment later your world was turned upside down. Sirius’s lips were soft and sweet – the entrancing taste of Sirius overwhelming you, beer and orange juice mixing together in the kiss. As promised, Sirius’s tongue pushed a dribble of juice into your mouth, making you moan into his lips as your arms wrapped around his neck, flashcards scattering across the tiled flooring yet again, his hands coming up to grip your waist. The man’s calloused hands fingered the hem of your top, pushing the edges up, his thumb drawing circles on your hip bone.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers on your skin, feeling Sirius chuckle against your lips at your surprise. Your own hands moved from his neck to his shoulders, sliding down to his arms. You could feel Sirius’s arms tensing at the feeling, the veins on his muscled forearms like braille under your fingertips.

Grunting into your lips, the man stepped forward, pushing you up against the counter, the edge right against the small of your back.

“Can I?”

Sirius asked breathlessly, lips bright red from what felt like minutes, but also hours, of yours against his. He ghosted the elastic of your shorts, eyes flicking between yours as he awaited your approval or disapproval.

You nodded, unable to speak as you held your breath.

Was this actually happening, or were you having some sort of heat stroke-induced delusion?

“Turn around and bend over for me then, doll.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you nodded again, rendered dumb by your disbelief at the situation. You bent over the counter, leaning on your forearms as you looked over your shoulder, watching Sirius crouched down, hooking his fingers into your shorts, pulling your panties down as well in one move.

The man sucked in a breath at the sight of you bottomless, making your face turn red.

“Such a pretty pussy…”

The blush spread throughout your body as you noticed how close Sirius was to you, his breath ghosting your clit as he did nothing. Simply staring at your cunt. His hands moved up from your ankles, where he’d brought your shorts down to, and spread you open, fingers dipping inside you unintentionally, but it was likely to have been intentional. You squeaked at the feeling, walls clenching around thin air.

This is so fucking embarrassing. But your body seemed to disagree, feeling yourself become wetter at the feeling of Sirius’s eyes on you.

Moving in to take a closer look, the older man sent you one of his signature panty-dropping smiles.

Literally, in this case.

“I’m going to fucking ruin it.”

You threw your head forward as Sirius ran his forefinger up and down your slit, the brief contact with your clit making you let out a loud moan of surprise. Your eyes squeezed shut as you hid your head in your forearms, Sirius’s finger stretching you out as you moaned into your arms.

“Don’t be so loud, doll. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as Sirius moved his finger in and out of you, growing wetter at the thought of anyone catching you here. In the kitchen.

With your dad’s best friend.

All coherent thought was interrupted as Sirius’s other hand landed on your clit, rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger. The movement made your brain short-circuit, letting out a loud gasping moan as he pushed a second finger inside you as well.

“S-Sirius. Fuck.”

The man tutted from behind you but didn’t even falter in his movements, seemingly spurred by your pleasure to pump his fingers in and out of you even faster. You were so immersed in the pleasure that your eyes shot open in surprise as a sharp slap landed on your clit.

“What the fuck?”

Your head whipped back to look at the older man, who merely lifted a brow at your outburst, his fingers still thrusting into you, the sinful sounds echoing around the kitchen.

“Told you to shut up, doll. Or are you too dumb to understand simple instruction, hmm?”

As he said that, Sirius curled his fingers inside of you, making you choke on your breath as he hit something inside of you.

“S-Sirius. I-”

Another slap landed on your cunt, but the pain mixed in with the insane amounts of pleasure you were feeling, your eyes squeezing shut once more to see nothing but stars in the midst of your pleasure.

“I told you to be silent, didn’t I? How’ve I fucked you dumb already.”

You whined silently, wiggling your hips slightly as your walls clenched around him, feeling your pleasure mount inside you, climbing towards its precipice.

“Your pussy’s so tight around my fingers. You wanna cum, love?”

You bit down on your forearm, moaning out into it as you nodded, your orgasm threatening to erupt on his fingers.

Sirius curled his fingers inside you, the movement pushing you over the edge as you nearly screamed, thanking the heavens that someone, probably Sirius, had come up with the idea of blasting AC/DC in the backyard. Convulsing around the older man’s fingers, your chest fell onto the countertop, your fluids running down your thigh as Sirius pulled his fingers out of you slowly. The feeling of being empty made you whine, hand searching blindly behind you to find Sirius.

“Want more.”

A chuckle sounded behind you, Sirius’s hand finding its way to your hair, threading his long fingers through it.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you, pumpkin?”

taglist: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @themoonwithprophets, @moonys-gf, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover, @remoony1, @siriusblackwifeeey, @iamnibbsi, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @tomriddle_whore, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts, @jeannelupinblack, @i-love-scott-mccall, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @shit-thats-true, @dorcasmeadowesx, @sunflowersandpansies, @elenapatricia99, @90sgoldentrio, @itsmentalillness, @sprucewoodlover, @kiaslily

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Note

Pussy addict zeke constantly needing to have his mouth on your pussy even tho you’re on a call with the general or warming his cock in your hole despite yall being at a gathering 😭

Like A Dog - Zeke Jaeger x Reader

◙warnings: Minors DNI 18+ only please or I’ll cry THANKS. More pussy-eating fiend Zeke, talking on the phone lowkey voyeurism, a lil degrading, mating press, dom Zeke who is a lil mean, a lil bit of objectification for flavor and dumbification, mentions of mating but not too breedy i think, one bite, one spit, some cunt slapping UUHH gets fluffy at the end

◙word count: 2.4k on accident

◙note: OO this is good. I wrote a whole thing and went to copy it to save it and accidentally hit paste. lost it all. I'm sure I looked ridiculous when I did that- red in the face and everything. I'll rewrite to the best of my abilities. Didn’t mean to write this much sorry anon ;u;

Also I’m imagining this phone, the old ones that connect to walls

“Fuck-” you card your fingers through his hair. His tongue is lapping across your cunt. Fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still and in place for him. You think this must have been a long day for him. The moment he came home from work he didn’t even let you get up to kiss him and give him a ‘welcome home.’ He pressed your hips into the couch and immediately started working on your cunt. “Zeke- I-” you can’t help but roll your hips into his mouth. You know this isn’t for you, this is for him, this is his stress-relief.

He’s surely bruising your thighs at this point with the amount of force he’s exerting to keep you against the couch. You let out a sigh and let your head roll back onto the back of the couch. It’s useless to try to get him up from between your legs, plus it feels undeniably good. So you roll your shoulders back into the couch with no chance of escape with Zeke caging you in.

“Seriously-” you are cut off with a moan, he knows all of your weak points and just how you tick and he’s taking advantage of it. Sucking your outer lips into his mouth noisily, it almost echoes out in the room, tonguing over your clit. He lets out a few rough groans of his own because of your grip on his hair. “Zeke- fuck-” he’s pushing his tongue into your hole that's been clenching around nothing this whole time. His beard is scratching at your sensitive inner thighs.

“I have a call with the general soon!” He pauses to process your words. Really that's what makes him stop? But he just dives right back in without saying anything. You grasp at the back of the couch and your skirt that he so unceremoniously scrunched to the juncture of your hips. He doesn’t care. He really couldn’t care less because his first order of business is eating you out, he can care about other things later when your juices aren’t soaking his face. But the phone hanging on the wall interrupts and has you pulling at his hair hard and away from your cunt. You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp and to the phone before it can ring for a fourth time. This is your job on the line, and you aren’t risking it for him and his stress relief. Granted working as the head of the communications department of the military wasn’t fun, occasionally Zeke would drop in and visit which made it a bit brighter for you even if he was a silent menace, slipping his hand up your skirt one too many times.

“Good afternoon, General!” You can hear Zeke grumbling something from where you left him on the floor. You are harsh, he thinks as he rubs his head, usually, when you pull his hair it is hot but that hurt for real. The General utters a casual response as Zeke casually sits on the floor right in front of you, right under the phone, and plays with the cute socks donning your ankles. You send him a glare which he admits is scary but he is too caught up in the taste of your cunt lingering on his lips and the juices still on his face to care. Debauched is what he looks like, swollen red lips, glasses have long since been set somewhere, hair disheveled by your tugs and a lusty look settled in his eyes. He trails his hands from your ankles to your thighs, bunching up your skirt with it while you bat him away, so he retreats his hands to your knee for now. If you bend too low the rustles of your clothes will translate over the phone.

“Yes General, the department has been running smoothly as of late, though-” His hands are making their way up your legs again, gripping your thighs to pull you closer to his face. You pause for a second but continue talking to the General, you can’t stop him now because it would give away too much and you don’t want to have a conversation with the General like that right now. He situates a thigh over his shoulder as you balance on one leg, leaning some of your weight onto him so you don't fall. He’s grasping your hips in a vice again, bringing your slick cunt to his face, hiding underneath your skirt so you can’t see the smirk he’s wearing or what he is doing at all. All you can do is feel all his ministrations, his tongue circling your clit, your thighs tense and already trembling as he pulls you to be seated completely on his face.

To be fair, you are doing quite well trying to keep your voice steady and on topic, you’re almost done with the conversation, trying to bring the General to a close about how the communications department is running and it would need to run better. But Zeke is ruthless and he is not trying to be quiet. He’s dipping his tongue into your cunt and you are tight, he should fuck you like this some time with your leg up and against the wall, it has all your muscles tensing, all of them. It would feel like a vice around his cock. And having you talking to someone else while they are unknowing of you sitting on his face like this? Hot.

You have one hand bracing yourself against the wall while the other holds the phone, god if the General would just stop rambling for once. “Doing this on the phone with the general? Naughty.” You slap the top of his head to make him shut up. At least he is a bit muffled by your skirt. You can hear the general pause as you hold your breath, “Is something the matter, Ms. Head of Communications?” Of course, he doesn't care for your name. He must not realize that Zeke is under your skirt doing raunchy things to your cunt with his tongue.

“Sorry General,” you look down at Zeke sitting on the floor between your legs, “just my dog is bothering me.” You can already hear Zeke complaining but instead he nibbles your outer lips as revenge for now. “Oh, you have a dog? I didn’t know that.” Zeke shoves his tongue fully in your clenching hole, it has your whole body hot and it feels like it could be steaming, you suck in a quick breath.

“Well, I just got him, so he has to be trained. He’s being bad right now.” Trying to balance on one leg while the other presses against him is harder than you think, you are so close to falling.

“Oh I know how that is,” the General lets out a laugh, “I’ll let you go then, it seems we covered everything.” You say your goodbyes before finally letting out a moan, you were this close to cumming on the phone with the general. “Bastard-” he is, especially with his dastardly tongue bringing you to a climax, your inner walls tense and trembling around nothing. His tongue massages over your clit one last time before you cream on his face which he slurps up in stride, not hesitating to let it all fall on his tongue as you grasp his hair through your skirt.

Finally, Zeke comes up from under your skirt, looking even more lewd than before. “Dog?” he asks incredulously, he sounds offended which you bask in.

“Yes. A dog. In it for nothing but your own needs, hopelessly in love with me, and horny as hell all the time.” He gives you an exasperated look like ‘seriously? I just made you cum and this is what I get?’ but his expression changes all too quick, it has your heart pounding. He stands up suddenly, surprising you a bit, shuffling backwards on trembling legs. Oh no, he’s looking at you with a predator's eyes, darkened and heady with lust. “Then I’ll do as dogs do,” he’s stalking towards you but you can’t walk quite right because of the earlier strain and end up falling gracelessly to the floor as Zeke crawls over top you. “I’ll mate.” You would have made fun of him for saying that but he’s got you trapped underneath him, arms caging you in and it’s not like you could squirm away. He’s flipping up your skirt again but this time it’s to rut the bulge of his cock through his pants against your slick cunt, wetting his whole crotch area as you gasp. He’s nuzzling his chin to your neck to kiss and lick at your nape before biting down, hard. You yelp and try to bring your hands up to pull at his hair in revenge but he catches them and pushes them against the ground. This is his way of marking you as his.

“What did you say? Something about training me?” He’s grinding harsh against you, leaving you in whimpers underneath him. “I just gave you a wonderful orgasm just with my tongue, I think I’m plenty trained.” You must have hit a nerve because he’s spitting the word at you like it’s disgusting. “In fact, I think I deserve a reward.” His voice is sweet, slicked with mockery as he unbuckles his pants just to pull his cock out. You don’t say anything, just give him a pitiful pouty look, you’ll tell him if he is stepping too far.

So he slaps his cock that's leaking pre on your clit, making your legs try to close, but he is quick with it, and pushes your leg out of the way to keep his torture up. The oral orgasm was satisfying but it still leaves you wanting more, “Please,” your little whimper has him looking up with a devious smirk. He stops tapping his cock against your cunt to grasp at your cheeks. His cock still resting against your cunt as he leans over your face.

“Louder.”

You are embarrassed, heated down to your toes but you know he can keep up this type of torture until he gets what he wants. “Please, Zeke,” you squeeze through his grips on your cheeks, and that seems to satisfy him. He’s been hard in his pants since he got down on his knees to eat you out, he is still a slave to his own desires despite his strong will.

He pushes your knees to your chest which has your lungs constricting pushing out all the air that was in them. Zeke inspects your cunt with a sadistic smile, spread open and wet, just for him, leaking down to your ass because of him. His ego stroked, he pushes into your tight ring, leaving a raspy groan hanging in the air. Fuck, you’re tight, as you moan. He’ll ignore your pleasure this time too, since you were so mean to him. You know what this is, this vulnerable position he’s put you in, jackhammering into you like a dog in heat, bruising your thighs with his calloused grip. It’s revenge. For interrupting his stress relief, for ruining his fun, for teasing him while on the phone. He lets you grasp at the loose overcoat he never bothered to take off, it only pulls you closer to him but at least you have something to hold onto.

You can’t even moan his name out properly with how fast he’s fucking into you. Broken off whimpers turn to uncontrolled moans as he keeps your knees firm against your chest. “Hold your legs.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand that you can’t even process. “Are you stupid? All of a sudden you’re just a dumb whore for cock? I said, hold your legs.” He enunciates with a firm push against the back of your knees to jostle you. So you dig your nails into the back of your knees and keep them in a firm hold as he digs his hands into the meat of your hips as best as he can with your thighs in the way.

It only gives him the best opportunity to use you like a cocksleeve, a little fucktoy and he makes that know through the filth he’s spitting out of his mouth. Your cunt is tight around him, the soft plush ridges inside are ruthless stimulation against his dick. He can feel you get closer and closer to orgasming, your hole clenching sporadically as he keeps thrusting deep into you, your eyes rolling back and a little bit of drool sliding down your chin as your mouth stays open with moans. He loves seeing you hopelessly depraved for him, losing all your senses as he drills into you.

He lets spit gather in his mouth to spit down onto yours, dirty, quick, and mean, punctuated with his words “That’s what you get for letting a dog like me-” he serves a particularly hard thrust into your walls, hitting a particular patch of softness that has you moaning loud “-fuck you.” You swallow his spit brainlessly, he hits that soft patch one more time and you are gone, the overwhelming wave of an orgasm crashing down on you while he continues to use your clenching cunt to get off. You keep your knees obediently to your chest as he continues to use you, extending your orgasm through until he reaches his, pushing his cock as deep as it can go before filling your insides with his seed.

He’s panting just as hard as you, breathing not quite catching up to him yet before he leans completely over you, elbows to each side of your face. He is savoring the foggy look in your eyes before leaving a quick kiss to your slick lips. He wiggles his hands against yours that are still holding your thighs until they let go, thighs framing his body as he leans over you, still filling you to the brim with cock and cum. He takes your hands together and kisses your knuckles as you give him a dumb giggle, exasperated.

“You’re at least right about two things,” you quirk your brow at him, voice to hoarse to respond, “I am ‘hopelessly in love with you,” he kisses you knuckles one more time “and how did you put it? ‘Horny as hell all the time.’” You roll your eyes as you become painfully aware that you are on a wooden floor and your back is starting to hurt. If he wants to cock warm this isn’t the place to do it.

But still you don’t feel like using your voice, so you kiss the tops of his cheeks and his forehead as you bring him down closer, to hold him and let him hold you. His weight over you is comforting, soft words contradicting what he said during the heat of the moment.

A moment of comfortable silence passes before you finally say something, rasping out of your throat but loud enough for him to hear with his head snug in your neck. “You still act like a dog.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh until he leans back after leaving a nip at your shoulder that has you squeaking. “Then I’ll just fuck you brainless until you don’t even know what the word ‘dog’ means.”

You give him a shy smile, and hope that is a promise.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

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prettyboy-writes · 3 years

Text

♡ ˎˊ𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎ˏˋ ♡

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 '𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺' 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘯' 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥,𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳.

Bloodied and bruised is what the blonde was. He’d never met someone that could land so many hits on him without getting the same,what made it worse was that the boy was shorter than him. He was honestly impressed but couldn’t say that infront of his friends when he’s already loosing.

YN was pissed,pissed and annoyed. Sano’s little fake blonde friend wouldn’t shut up about never giving up and to face your problems. No matter how many hits he landed on sano he wouldn’t go down. Raising his hands he was ready to propose a solution.

“Call off your guys and I’ll call if mines. We can do this,another way.” YN stood straight,fixing his jacket. Manjiro looked around before shrugging his shoulders and whispering something to Draken. The tattooed man nodded in what seemed to be agreement before yelling.

“Oi! The presidents needa’ hold off the fight!” All 250 of the men paused in their positions,some with their hands midair ready to knock others clean out while some people fell from mid air as they were ready to jump onto someone and beat them half to death.

All the white jackets,aka your members looked at you as if they were asking “is he speaking for you as well?” You nodded at them and they all went back to their positions and by their friends,laughing and teasing at how bad they were beat or praising how many people one took down.

“Manjiro sano,I propose a truce. You won’t go down because of your oddly positive friend and I’m simply running out of energy.” You walked closer to the blonde,he seemed to tense,unsure if you were being serious.

“How about,we share the area. We fight against other gangs who somehow manage to make their way into our Territory.” He looked at ken for reassurance,earning a nod from him.

“A truce it is,LN” you both shook hands,receiving cheers of celebration from the 250 men that stood alongside you both.

“If I’m bein’ honest I was about to pass out sleep on the nearest toman member!” Someone from your gang yelled causing laughter to erupt. You only shook your head with a smile and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Mikey suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The embarrassment on your face as you tried to hold back a laugh,the little blush that dusted your cheeks. Why did he all of a sudden find you so pretty,why did he find you attractive.

Shaking his head while closing his eyes,ridding the confusing thoughts. “It was such a pleasure to fight with the unbeatable Manjiro sano,but it is time I take my leave.” You raised your arms dramatically and just in que your co-president came driving by,swooping you up by your waist and onto the shared motorcycle.

“Your all dismissed,thank you for fighting alongside me today!” You waved at your gang members as they let out a series of “my pleasure” and “welcomes’”. You gave a smile before you exited the grounds on the bike.

Mikey was stunned. How the fuck did you look so elegant while getting snatched off your feet ? How did you get one hundred and fifty larger men to give you their full repsect and undivided attention? Mikey had so many questions right now.

And that led to today. You were sitting in a small bakery,a table close to the glass wall where you could see any and everything,including the blonde walking to the door. You watched as he walked in searching for a familiar color of hair,waving at him his eyebrows raised and he headed towards you waving with a smile.

“Yo” you raised your head slightly before tilting it back. He sat in the chair looking around before speaking up. “I want to end the rivalry between our gangs.” He spoke,his tone was nervous but his face was stoic and didn’t change a bit. You shrugged. “Sure,I mean why not.” His face practically lit up when he heard your agreement.

“Let’s celebrate with dorayaki!” He waved towards the waitress who immediately rushed over with a pen and notepad. “Can I get two melonpan? They are very sweet and I need sugar.” You held up two fingers as you spoke and the waitress nodded. She looked between you two obviously nervous.

“I’ll be right back with your food,congrats on the relationship you two!” She gave another smile before walking off. Your face immediately warmed up and you looked at Mikey who was also flustered before looking down.

Why didn’t he deny asking you out? Why didn’t you deny him asking you out? God this was so embarrassing. You shook the thought as lightly tapped your cheeks,ridding the warmth before looking up at the blonde.

“M’ sorry about that.” He apologized offering a soft smile. You once again felt the warmth travel up to your cheeks. “It’s fine,just a simple misunderstanding.” He nodded and once again his eyes lit up when he saw the waitress heading to your table with plates.

She set them both down before slightly bowing and walking away. You bit into the bread,not moving it from your mouth as you looked around before finishing the bite and chewing it. Mikey was slightly confused but nonetheless flustered at how strangely cute you looked.

“Say LN,how old are ya’?” Mikey asked as he played around with his food,making the fish seem as if it was swimming. “Mmm,just turned 14. Why?” You answered as soon as you swallowed your bread. His eyes widened. “Woah. Your younger than me? Well I mean it’s not that big of a surprise seeing your height-“ Mikey immediately regretted talking about your height when he saw your glare.

“I am the perfect height for my age,manjiro.” Your eyes narrowed on the blonde causing him to raise his hands in a surrendering manner. “Geez,hit a nerve there.” You huffed before looking away as you took another bite of your bread,earning a snicker from Mikey. Your eyes flickered back to him,he was suddenly staring at something,with his full attention.

In all honesty he was admiring your face,he had never thought of anyone pretty. Let alone have a crush on someone. This was a new discovery for him and he didn’t know how to go about it. Maybe he’d talk to takemitchy later,he has a girlfriend. His thoughts were interrupted when your voice was heard.

“Whaddya’ staring at?” You attempted to following where his eyes where but it seemed like he was staring at the empty chair behind you. He shrugged before biting into his dorayaki happily.

Not only was he happy that he saved his guys a possibly big fight that could cause serious injuries and possible deaths,but he also made an ally. A cute one at that. “Nothin,just thinking.” You gave an understanding nod and rested your cheek on your palm,looking through the glass walls.

“Hey does your friend know I can see his tall ass? He sucks at hiding.” Your vision hovered on Draken who was trying to hide behind a wall. Mikey laughed at your honesty before turning to him and waving him off with a nod.

“He didn’t quite trust the idea of me coming to meet you alone.” Mikey admitted. You shrugged before eating the last bite of your bread. “Hey uh,do you maybe wanna go on a walk? Tomorrow?” The blonde nervously asked with a smile.

You nodded,returning his kind smile. “Alright,it’s a date. See you then,Mikey” you stood up and placed a 1000 yen bill before exiting the cafe,waving at Mikey through the glass.

His cheeks were bright red as he tried to wave back at you. He settled rivalry,gained an ally and got a date? God this day was just going perfect for him.

“Oh god what should I wear? What do you wear for date walks?!” He pointed to the waitress who served you and him. She nervously answered: “a nice hoodie and a pair of jeans always work?” Manjiro nodded and yelled a “thankyou” as he walked out of the cafe waving.

You can bet he went to Takemichi to help him pick out a hoodie with Draken following along giving his opinion every now and then.

Request are open

#fanfic #fantasy #fiction #imagine your otp #tokyo revengers x male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #manjiro sano #Manjiro sano x male reader #Mikey x male reader #rivalry #enimies to lovers #late night walk dates #mlm #nblm

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings/Disclaimer: NSFW content/Older Ateez but age differences is written withing legal boundaries. Also mentions of infidelity (which I don't condone, justify nor encourage), corruption kink and loss of virginity.

A/N: Also, Yeosang's reaction is a sneak peek at the Dilf! Fic in my w.i.p.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

It all started as a way to get a passing grade for the semester, but soon became a mission to get inside your professor's pants. You still remembered the unamused gaze he gave you when you first suggested you 'help' him out.

"Nice try Miss Y/N.... but perhaps instead of wasting time behind the bleachers sucking off the jocks' cocks, maybe dip your head instead into your books and study for once."

You couldn't believe he'd actually reject you. No man had ever rejected you, they always fell to your charms. Professor Kim was about to become your biggest challenge yet and you didn't mind. Besides, something about fucking an older man had you pulling out your trusted vibrator out so many times during the night. Kim Hongjoong was just so fucking hot and you desperately wanted him, even if for one night.

"Please Mr. Kim..... you know they say I give the best blow jobs here." You tried yet again one day when everyone else left.

"They? You mean horny 20 something year olds who bust a nut by just a booby pic?"

For the first time, his poker face finally had an expression in the form of a smirk.

"Honey, you're going to have to try a lot harder than that. I've had my cock sucked by countless women in all my years. Besides..."

Leaning closer to you, he reached a hand out so his thumb could graze across your bottom lip.

"What makes you think a pretty young thing like you can take a mature cock like mine? You've probably never even had one half the size of mine."

You let out an involuntary moan as you pictured just how well endowed your teacher was. Looking down, you noticed the obvious bulge he was donning and you wanted nothing more than to pull him out and suck him dry. It seemed he noticed since he sat back down on his chair. Gesturing for you to come over, you practically hopped over to him, letting him guide you on your knees as he began to take himself out.

"But do knock yourself out. I'm kinda curious to see what the newer generations do nowadays."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Others would have complained and would be annoyed by the fact their new neighbors would have almost daily fights between them, typical marital disputes. But not you, you didn't mind hearing their screaming that was clearly heard through the walls. Especially since more often than not their fights would end in rough, angry sex that had you touching yourself at nights, a guilty pleasure you always looked forward to.

And you had been eyeing the husband from the moment the couple moved in. Park Seonghwa was everything you looked for in a man and even more. Handsome, mature, tall, well sculpted, responsible, sexy as hell and you knew for a fact he could definitely fuck. One day you knocked over at their door to give them one of them many pastries you'd often bake for your neighbors in the building.

"You know Mr. Park....if you ever get too frustrated with your wife....my door is always open." You boldly offered him.

He looked at you in shock but you sent him a reassuring wink before walking back to your apartment, making sure to sway your hips so he could have the image engraved in his mind. And boy did you rile him up. Now he couldn't stop thinking about you. You're all he had in his head. Now whenever he'd fight, he'd storm out and you'd welcome him, proud to get what his wife wasn't getting anymore. And you were hell bent on making sure you'd keep him to yourself.

"Cum inside me....fill me up." You told him one day.

He was so lost in his lust for you he didn't think he'd hear you correctly. Giggling, you flipped the position so you were now on top of him, bouncing yourself on his enormous cock.

"I'll give you what your wife won't give you. Knock me up with your babies, fill me to the brim. I wanna carry your kids in me." You ran your hands down your chest and placed them on top of your stomach to get your point further across.

Seonghwa was going wild by this point. He had wanted to become a father for so long but his narcissistic and conceited wife would not budge. Yet here you were offering him the one thing he wanted and he couldn't resist. Sitting up, he began pounding up into you with more intensity, sending you crying his name over and over again as his teeth began to mark your neck.

"Oh I'll make sure to knock you up babygirl. Gonna fuck my kids into you...fuck! You're going to look even more pretty carrying my baby in you."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yours and Yunho's relationship was rather.... unconventional to say the least. He ended up becoming your sugar daddy after you had auctioned off your virginity online cause you were a broke college student and you honestly didn't give a damn at that point. But it was you who were in for a surprise when you met him in the hotel room and he just handed you the money without wanting anything in return.

"Just take it and don't give away something so valuable away like that."

You were so stunned by his behavior and it honestly sent some weird feeling inside you.

"But what if I wanna give it away?" You asked before he could open the door to leave. He let out a deep sigh.

"Trust me, you don't." He insisted.

Biting your lip, you took in his height and built. You weren't going to lie and pretend you didn't size him up from the moment you saw him. He probably had a monster cock that could tear you apart and part of you wanted that. Plus he was probably experienced in making love to someone so why not?

"If it's with you I really do..."

He whipped his back at your words, about to scold you but his words got caught in his mouth when you began to strip in front of him before laying down on the bed, legs spread for him and anxiously waiting for him to touch you. He couldn't resist himself. He ended up pining your tiny and virgin body under him, tearing your hymen apart and claiming you as his. He made sure you were in no pain and he had you cumming more than once. You could say it was an amazing first time.

You spent the rest of the night talking, and you ended up spilling about your economic situation. Perhaps it was pity, perhaps he was high on having taking your virginity, or perhaps he truly felt something for you. Either way you agreed to be his sugar baby, and you don't regret it one bit. Not when you get to have his monster cock in you, and he's not complaining either when he gets to stuff himself in you.

"Fuck! You're still so damn tight my little one... just like the first time."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

He tried to ignore the sound of the shower right behind the door he was leaning in. He had to. He shouldn't try to imagine what was going on in there. But as his eyes closed, he couldn't stop picturing your naked body glistening as the water cascaded down your skin. His hand grazed over his erection, wondering if perhaps you were doing something similar.

Before he knew what he was doing, he slowly and quietly opened the door, the hot steam fogging up the glass doors to the shower but he could still make out your beautiful and young figure. He witnessed as your hand played with your clit, dipping inside your folds as tiny gasps and pants escaped your lips.

"Mr. Kang...." Hearing you murmur his name sent any self-control he had out the window.

He began to strip himself out of his clothes, very slowly and in silence so as to not disturb you. Besides you looked so pretty as you touched yourself, trying to get yourself off at the thought of him. Without taking his eyes off you, he slid the glass door and soon stood behind you in the luxurious and spacious shower. You jumped slightly when you felt familiar hands wrap themselves around your waist, fingertips digging into you. You could never forget his touch, you remembered how those hands felt when they once caught you and saved you from a nasty fall.

You knew it wasn't a dream or fantasy when you felt lips pressing open mouth kisses against the side of your neck and traveled down to your shoulders. You moved your hand away to allow the person behind you to take control, his long and slender fingers finally making your darkest fantasies come true as they penetrated inside you, moving back and forth in an effort to bring you into an orgasm.

Kang Yeosang's deep and husky voice breathed into your ear, sending shivers down your body.

"You don't know how long I've lusted after you..."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

With Choi San it wasn't you seducing him. It was letting him seduce you. Ever since he saw you walk in with your short skirt, applying for a part time job at his bookstore, he had been wanting you, craved your body. And honestly... you fed him in his game.

You would wear even shorter skirts, bending down right in front of him so he could get a glimpse at your scantily clad pussy. Or you'd constantly ask him for help in putting away some of the books that went on higher shelves just so he'd put his hands around you, which he'd often keep there longer than needed. And you loved it.

One day he had been frustrated by you past his limit. Throwing away all decorum, he came up behind you as you arranged some books. You let out a gasp when you felt his hands grope your breasts.

"I've been working you too hard my darling... maybe I should let you take a little break?" You became putty in his hands when he used his satoori tone with you.

You didn't stop him when he lifted your shirt up to your neck, nor when he pulled your breasts out from your bra cups. You just moaned with no shame as his fingers tweaked and pinched at your highly sensitive nipples.

"Fuck you have really soft and squishy boobs. It's like they were made for my hands."

Snaking one hand under your skirt, he was surprised to not only find out that you were practically dripping for him but you were not wearing any underwear that day.

"Shit darling, did you came here hoping I would fuck you?"

You threw your head back as he cupped your heat, rubbing at your clit.

"Yes! Please fuck me Mr. Choi! W-wanna get fucked by you." You begged him, pushing your ass behind you to grind against his very obvious bulge.

He was more than satisfied by your answer. Finally getting your consent, he no longer had to hold back. Freeing his cock which was leaking at the tip, he pushed your skirt up to expose your ass cheeks. Giving each of them a few slaps with his cock, he teased you as he rubbed his bulbous tip along your slit.

"Now my little apprentice, I'm going to show you how a real man fucks a little cunt like yours."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Spotting exactly what you were hoping to find for the night, you approached the older male and sat in front of him. Giving you a little glance, he furrowed his eyebrows as he took in your countenance.

"Aren't you a little young to be in a club like this?" He questioned you.

"Trust me, I'm old enough." You boldly took the glass he had in front of him and took a sip before setting it back down.

He let out a tiny chuckle as you practically drowned almost an entire glass of straight vodka. You had guts, he was giving you that.

"Little lady I'm sure there are more young men your age scattered about waiting for a beauty like you to pay attention to them. So why not go find them?" He suggested.

You frowned at him, a tiny huff coming out from your lips.

"Guys my age are all idiots and little babies. Absolutely nothing fun about them."

You scooted closer to him, your hand coming down to rub at one of his ridiculous thick thighs.

"I prefer men who are more older and..... bigger." You made emphasis on that last word.

The male snorted as he let you continue your little game. He was actually pretty amused and flattered at having a young and attractive girl hit on him.

"Little lady as much as I'd love to take you back to my place and fuck you into my sheets, I'm warning you that I'm into more.... risque and exotic pleasures and honestly....I don't think an inexperienced thing like you could handle it."

The man, whom you soon found out was named Song Mingi peeked your interest even more as he confided in you that little detail. And you were more than happy to indulge in extremely naughty kinks. That's how you ended up in his bed, your hands and feet tied to each of the bed posts, blindfolded, gagged, nipple clamps adorning your perky breasts as your older lover for the night was continuing his abuse on your swollen and red pussy, drawing out orgasm after orgasm out of your body.

"Fuck! Holy shit!" He cried out, grunting in an almost animalistic manner as he pumped his cum all over your body.

Removing your blindfold and mouth gag, he looked for any signs of regret but was instead met with your fucked out face that held a tiny grin.

"Older and bigger cocks are indeed the best."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Working as an exotic dancer, you met a lot of customers and got used to having regulars. But no one got under your skin or made you lose your senses like Jung Wooyoung. Usually you didn't give any special treatment to anyone unless it guaranteed more cash in your garter belt. But there was something about him that had you constantly looking over when he was there. Every time he was watching from the crowd, you made sure every wink, every lip bite or swirl of your tongue was directed at him.

You were thinking about giving up, since weeks passed and he didn't seem to make a move on you or on any of the other girls. Perhaps he was dragged there by his friends since he always sat there idly, no expression whatsoever. When you were told someone payed to have a private show with you, the last person you expected to see was none other than Jung Wooyoung himself, sitting on the couch, a glass of wine on his hand. Pulling out a large bill, he smirked at you.

"One hundred dollars if you take off that top."

His request had your legs wobbling. Since it was a rather fancy and elegant strip club, none of you ever actually stripped completely bare, only staying in scanty lingerie. But honestly, you didn't hesitate and let the top fall to the floor. You loved the way Wooyoung was eyeing your chest, tongue poking out to wet his lip. Reaching into his pocket once more, this time he produced even more bills and layed them on the table.

"500 dollars if you remove that lace thong."

Holy crap, you thought to yourself. That was a lot of money that you weren't going to refuse. And besides, you were already wet for the older man that you would suck him off right then and there if he asked you to, with absolutely no payment. This time his hand began to rub at his crotch. Unzipping his pants, he took his long length out which had your mouth watering and staring for so long that you didn't notice the even larger stash of cash he had taken out of his jacket which layed beside him.

"One thousand dollars if you hop your pretty ass over here and bounce yourself on my cock."

Not needing to be told twice, you practically plunged yourself down on him, not caring to take your time as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. The man underneath you was enjoying himself as well, the visual of your ass clapping against his hips driving him insane.

"Fuck! Yes! Just like that- oh god!"

You let out a yelp when his hand came down to slap your cheeks rather harshly, hips taking control as he rammed his cock into you. Through raspy grunts and growls, he made his final proposition to you:

"Your own place, monthly allowance and anything else you want if you leave this place and become my own personal fuck toy."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Working as the personal assistant for your father's CEO friend was not easy. Not because Choi Jongho was difficult, scary and begrudgingly agreed to have his friend's daughter work for him when she had no experience, but because the man was hot. You had the hots for your dad's friend and knowing you would have to be by his side for 8-10 hours on the daily both thrilled and terrified you.

"Can't you even work a simple printer? Seriously? How stupid could you possibly be?"

You honestly didn't mind his constant insults and degradation. In fact...that's exactly what you wanted, even more if he did it in front of others. Truth was, you did know how to work a printer and do other office related small tasks. You just chose not to just to have him yell and scream at you. His anger further fueled your sexual desires for him.

Eventually he ended up finding out what your little plan was when he chanced upon you sending a fax for someone, something he had always refrained from teaching you cause he thought you'd be too stupid to do.

"Why you cunning little vixen." He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he saw you, angry that a little brat like you was getting under his skin just to get a reaction out of him. He felt his palm start to tremble with an urge to bend you over and spank you into place.

Which he did end up doing, among other things in an effort to get you to behave or straighten up. But it never fully worked since you kept testing his patience, and he truly didn't mind. He liked your little game and he started to look forward to having his little vixen misbehave just to put her back in her place. And you lived for having him punish and degrade you.

"Look at you. You look like a common whore, letting me fuck her little hole as much as I want to."

You whimpered as his hand pulled your hair, making you lift your head and watch from the mirror as he fucked you from behind against his dresser.

"Maybe I should take a picture and send it to your dad. Let him know that his precious daughter is nothing more than a slut that likes getting her tight little hole fucked by his best friend."

You shook at his words, tears steaming down your face from the overstimulation he was putting you through. You absolutely loved it. Loved having him remind you of how wrong and sinful it was. Pressing your back against his chest, he wrapped an arm around your throat as he pounded his cock into you like the beast he was.

"But no... I won't do that. This will be our little secret."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #dilf!ateez

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

pink hearts

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away.

PAIRINGS. itadori jin x reader

WC. 10.7k+

NOTES. this fic is purely self indulgent, not requested, i wrote this for me so reader is mostly...well, me. okay listen I KNOW toji is the choice dilf but PLEASE daddy jin has my heart and i’m so soft for him like you guys don’t understand. this is my comfort fic now and jin’s made his way on my comfort character list, give this amazing man a chance, he’s amazing and so kind eeeee my heart is going to burst i love him so much lol + oh this is unedited as usual

masterlist !

The pink-haired man sat across from you, setting down the tray of two coffee mugs on the coffee table before you. He was of regular build, mostly on the lanky side, and his kind eyes peered behind glasses as he smiled at you. “So you’re the babysitter Mr. Gojo recommended?”

You stared at him. Shamelessly.

Suddenly, your initial plan of impressing your employer by wearing a tight pencil skirt and an old white blouse after the assumption that they would be prissy and had way too much money on their hands felt useless.

This guy wore a cream sweatshirt and black slacks, clearly happy and comfortable in his own home.

Upon being the subject of your stare, he only smiled awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of himself as he cleared his throat to let you speak.

“Oh!” you suddenly sat up straight, “Yes, yes I am. I’m sorry for staring. I just think you’d be this...young.” And modest.

“I understand. You’re in university, correct?” you nodded, leaning back in his seat, hand scratching the back of his head. His cheeks tinged a slight pink. “And you’re a close friend of Satoru’s, well...It’s not that I don’t trust his judgment or anything, but it’s my first time being a parent – and I’m a single dad, at that – so I hope you don’t mind that I’d like to see how you get along with my son first before I hire you.”

“Oh yeah, no, that’s perfectly fine!”

Satisfied with your answer, Mr. Itadori stood up with a bow, silently gesturing you to follow him down his hall. “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with, or anything you don’t know much about? Changing diapers, giving the teething products, anything?”

“I’m the eldest in the family, four more hellish sun drops following afterwards. I think I’m good.”

He nodded at your answer, a small smile on his face. “That’s good to know. My last babysitter was the same age as you, but he didn’t know much about handling babies. I mean, neither do I, but a man’s got to learn, you know?” he laughed at himself, unaware that with each passing second, pink heart eyes gazed up at him admirably.

When you both reached a door that was left slighty open, Mr. Itadori lit up, bending down in front of a crib where his baby laid, small hands clutching at his feet. “Yuuji, baby, Daddy’s here. Are you ready to meet your babysitter?”

Your jaw dropped when he finally picked his baby up, the little boy clad in a tiger onesie and sucking on a toy. “Oh my gosh, you’re so adorable, come here!” you were more than glad when his dad laughed and gently passed the baby to you, who only gurgled in laughter when you cooed at him. “Oh, I want to spoil you and give you kisses, how are you this cute?” Well, it made sense he was cute, since his dad was as well. Yuuji made grabby hands at you, to which you happily obliged, leaning down so his tiny fingers could pinck your cheeks.

Unable to help it, you rubbed your cheeks on his touch, making the little boy clap his feet together, eyes bright with all the happiness and innocence in this world. You honestly wanted to cry right then and there.

“Your hands are soooo tiny, my goodness, I love you already! It’s so nice to meet you, Yuuji, you’re such an angel!”

“You like kids, huh?”

“Well, not so much with kids because toddlers have too much energy, but babies,” you gasped once you heard Mr. Itadori’s muffled laughter, greeted by the sight of him hiding his mouth behind his palm. Instantly, you smiled at him nervously, clutching the baby closer to yourself because he was so darn cute.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry if I’m being weird right now, I can’t help it! Your son is so precious!”

“Thank you. He’s the greatest blessing of my life too,” he beamed, turning to his baby with that soft look in his eyes that parents wore so well. “Well, it seems Yuuji really likes you. He’s friendly to everyone but...I’m surprised he’s warmed up to you this fast,” Mr. Itadori bent over to poke his cheek, the baby’s tiny hand wrapping around his dad’s finger. “Yuuji~ don’t forget I’m still your dad, okay? She’s the babysitter – she’s not your mom so don’t be too clingy, alright?”

You stiffened at his words, your eyes flickering back and forth between the baby and him. They had the same eye and hair colour, along with that aura of kindness surrounding them...it was hard to imagine what the mother would be like. Was she as bright and adorable too?

If yes, then this was an entire family of pink hearted strawberries!

“If...if it’s not too much to ask, may I ask where his mom is?”

Much to your surprise, his eyes grew forlorn, though the smile remained on his face. “His mom...is in a much happier place now,” was all he said – and it was enough – that you couldn’t dare ask more.

Mr. Itadori walked out of Yuuji’s room and into the kitchen afterwards, eyes squinting over the neat handwriting on a sticky note on his refrigerator. “Okay, so, I don’t know if Satoru’s told you, but I’m an engineer. I usually just work from home, especially now that I’ve got a baby, but there are still days where I have to go the office for presentations and meetings. I can’t guarantee that the babysitting schedule will be permanent – is it alright if I call you whenever?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean, other than university, I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s good to hear! But wouldn’t this job get in the way of your studies?”

You shook your head, subconsciously pressing closer to the baby instead because he was just so warm and wouldn’t stop tugging at your collar. A part of you was also eager to get this job not only for the baby, but Mr. Itadori intrigued you as well. You knew it was wrong but you had to be honest with yourself, hiding this truth for him instead through a shaky smile.

“No, definitely not! I can just take my studies here – if you won’t mind, of course – and I promise I won’t litter or make a mess or anything. During babysitting hours, Yuuji will be more of a priority than my homework, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mr. Itadori hummed to himself, rubbing at his chin. “If that’s the case, then I suppose you’re free to use the study at the end of the hall. There’s a baby camera there that lets you see Yuuji in every room, but if he’s asleep, feel free to use it.”

“Oh wow,” you blinked back in surprise, gently rocking a gurgling Yuuji back and forth. “You didn’t have to do that so uhm, thank you, really, I promise I’ll take care of your son very well!”

“I can see why Satoru recommended you now,” he shook his head with a smile, moving over to the litter of dinosaur stickers onto another list. “Here is a list of the things Yuuji likes and doesn’t like. He’s mostly active in the afternoons when I’ll most likely get called for work, and he’s a mess by then. He really likes playing and cuddles, and he’ll also demand to be carried most of the time otherwise he’ll cry,” he paused as his eyes slid over to you, lips pursed in thought. “I know you’ll do great but...don’t spoil my son too much, okay? I just don’t want him to uh...think that you’re his parent or something. Yuuji gets easily attached like that. If he calls you ‘mama’...please tell me about it, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I know my place, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he raised in hands in surrender as he saw your eyes widen with fear. “Being a single parent is just hard, you know? I can’t help but always feel that maybe I won’t be enough for him, and as much as I can, I’d like to let my son he can rely on me at all times.”

“I think you’re a very great father,” you admitted rather shyly, “Your son is really lucky to have you as his parent. I can tell he’s going to be such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” he placed a hand over his heart, then pulled out a business card from the back of his pocket. “Now, here’s my number and my work schedules. You don’t have to drop by during weekends since I’m always here, but I might need you every Wednesdays to Fridays. Can I have your class schedule as well? That way I know when’s the right time to text you if I need something,” Reaching into your bag that had a copy of your schedule, you handed it to him, the strawberry-haired man’s lips growing into a smile as he read over the content. “Well, what do you know? You study engineering too? Computer engineering?”

You winced, memories you’d rather not think of again resurfacing. “Please don’t call me a nerd. I’ve heard that enough already.”

“What’s wrong about being a nerd? I’ve always been a nerd too and I think I’m fine,” you swapped numbers after that, not even giving you enough time to recover from his comment. Not that being a nerd was a huge deal, but people always said it weirdly that you dreaded hat word. Hearing it from him though...it felt like a compliment. “Guess that settles it then. I’ll see you soon?”

Heart elated and spirits soaring into the sky that you actually got the job and the employer was a kind man, you nodded with a bright smile on your face. “Yeah, I’ll come by next week! Thank you so much for trusting me!”

“No, thank you for your service,” he responded back shyly, waving to you as you walked out the door. Not a few moments later, Mr. Itadori ran after you, his cheeks flushed pink from the shrot run. “Wait! Can I have my son back?”

Looking down at the baby in your arms who was too busy sucking on his thumb, your cheeks heated, extending your arms as gentle as you could while Mr. Itadori got his son back. He only laughed at your state, waving it off with a shake of his head. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It just feels so natural to hold him!”

“You’ll be a good mother someday,” he commented almost absentmindedly. Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop bowing and apologizing with each step backwards, too distracted to notice that your heels dug into a small crack. You yelped as you felt the floor slip beneath you, Mr. Itadori’s instincts kicking in when he easily grabbed your wrist to pull you towards him, your foreheads almost knocking one another’s. “Whoa – watch your step. You could’ve fallen seriously there.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Itadori! I’ll try to be more graceful next time,” you bowed repeatedly, still so ashamed as you tugged your skirt down. “Why the hell did I wear heels anyway? It’s not like this is a law firm.”

“Please,” he smiled at you – and you swore in that moment that things were just going to be different – eyes closed and his whole face lit with light heartedness. “Call me Jin,” taking his son’s hands up, he waved the little arm as you walked out the door, still in a light trance of disbelief. “Say bye-bye, Yuuji!”

Even as you made it back to your bus stop, you still couldn’t get your mind off of the strawberry-haired father and son duo. Their home was just so...bright, you immediately felt safe and comfortable.

As your heart fluttered at the memory of Jin smiling at you, you placed a palm over your heart, willing it to calm down. That couldn’t be good, right?

“Earth to Y/N!”

You snapped back to life when your friend slapped you on the arm, smiling at her when she only huffed at your dazed out self again. It wasn’t irregular for you to space out like this, and you were more than thankful she was always there to bring you back to reality before you accidentally crossed a street when the lights were green or something.

“Sorry, what?”

“Do you know how many times we had to drag you away because you keep running into poles?” she rolled her eyes, “Sheesh, how would you survive without us? What are you spacing out for anyway?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about work and all.”

“Speaking of that, how’d the interview go? Was your employer as strict and condescending as the Zenins? The hell happened to those bastards anyway?” “I bet their child is going to grow up sexist or something.”

At the mention of Jin and his baby, your whole self lit up. “My employer is better this time around. He’s only a few years older than us; like five or seven, I think? He’s really nice too and dude, his baby is so. Freaking. Adorable,” you gushed, mimicking the gesture of rocking a baby around with your arms, eyes filled with heart-shaped characters. “Like a freaking strawberry in my arms! He’s so sweet too!”

“You and your attachment to babies,” she scrunched her nose in disgust – always having had an aversion to anyone younger than her. “I’ll never get it.”

“Babies are the best!”

“Yeah, until they drool and throw up on you,” as if the image procured in her mind, your friend shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her arm to relieve her goosebumps. “I never want to be a mom.”

“You’ll change your mind once you fall in love with someone who’s amazing enough to make you want to have a family on your own.”

“You talk about that as if you’ve met that someone already!”

“Maybe I have,” you giggled stupidly to yourself. Of course you weren’t thinking about Jin – you just knew deep in your heart you always wanted your own family. Growing up from a large family and getting separated from them, it was uncomfortable to not be surrounded by crying and squealing, which was always accompanied with laughter and kisses at the end of the day. Now who wouldn’t want that? You waved your hand to your friend, trying to hide the apparent gushing behind your voice. “I’m just kidding. I just really love babies.”

“Whatever,” she closed the topic, and you didn’t protest, knowing full well your friend cringed at the mention of babies or children. “So are you coming to our study group tonight?”

“Can’t. Got work,” you shrugged, a light skip in your steps as you both walked to the campus. Thankfully, she mistook your enthusiasm with the excitement of getting to hang out with babies again, which was true, but something about meeting Jin again and possibly getting to know more about the sweet father was a huge cherry on top – one your friend didn’t have to know about.

“Shame. I heard that hot guy from Biology was coming too.”

“Fushiguro Toji? Wasn’t he scouted for the military?”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised he’s not a gangster,” she snorted, “But whatever. Text me when you get home safely, okay? If you don’t text within—”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Text you when I get on the bus stop, text you when I arrive at work, when I leave and when I’ve gotten home otherwise you’re calling the cops to report me missing or abused,” you stood up straight for a mock salute, brows furrowed in faux seriousness. “I know, ma’am. That’s drilled in my head already.”

“I’m serious. The world is a dangerous place!”

“Yes, I’ll text you!”

Wednesdays couldn’t come sooner. But when it did, you were far too excited. You’d never tell anyone you took the extra time to fix your hair and spritz on just a tinge of perfume, not wanting to overwhelm the baby.

You shot up from your seat right after class ended, hair flying in the wind as you bolted to the bus stop. Wiping away the sweat on your forehead and fixing your clothes with a pat of your hand, you took a deep breath, chanting inner mantras that today would be a good at work. You’d be contributing to society by caring for a child that would soon be the light of the future, and you were more than honoured. Clearing your throat, you pressed on the bell, humming to yourself as you heard the light patters of footsteps inside.

“Hey, you’re here!” Jin smiled at you, one you reciprocated wholeheartedly, and he opened the door wider while you took off your shoes.

He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a white shirt, looking utterly domestic and different from your previous employers that would glare at you if you touched their kid without sanitizing your hand twice first. Jin was like a breath of fresh air to you – one you breathed in with glee while you followed him inside.

His house was kept neat and clean, surprising you even more at just how immaculate to detail he could be despite his busy schedule. Was it because he was an adult or a parent now that people his age were just more organized and put together?

Whatever it was, you trailed around Jin like a puppy, eager to learn from his ways.

“I told myself I’d only ask you to come around if I’m away for work but I’m working on a huge project and my client is very demanding. He’s asking me to pass it this week already and he just sent me his plans last night.”

“It’s okay...Jin,” you stuttered over calling him by his first name like that, “You can focus on your work. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Thank you! Yuuji’s in his room, by the way. He’s just had dinner so he’s still energetic – you can pull up the cartoons and lounge in the living room. He’ll be fine,” he opened his mouth to say something else when his gaze darted to your book bag, eyes widening. “Oh wait, you brought your schoolwork—”

“I’m good! I’ve already finished them during my spare time! I promise you really don’t have anything to worry about!”

“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” he calmed down at your words, scratching the back of his ear before gesturing to his door. “Well, I’ll be in my room if you need me. I get really occupied and focused though, so just open the door if I don’t open it right away.”

“Noted,” You wasted no time in picking up Yuuji from his crib afterwards. It seemed the little man didn’t quite like being imprisoned like that because he was babbling nonsensically, fists banging on the edges.

Upon seeing you enter his room, Yuuji’s babbles got louder, small chubby arms reaching out to your extended ones. His pacifier fell inside his crib as he pouted at you, and how could you resist? Soon, you were happily nestled onto the couch on the living room, his favourite cartoons playing on the background.

His head swayed side to side as the songs came along, while you watched him with tiny giggles. You wondered if maybe your first day at work would be eventless like this.

You really thought you’d run back and forth doing errands and changing diapers, but that was your old babysitting experience – things were obviously different with Jin and his son.

Yuuji was quiet, but Jin was right, he was clingy. Not an hour later into the show, he crawled to your sides and settled into your lap, tiny hands grabbing at your shirt. He sighed as his cheeks rested on your chest, though his eyes still glossed over the cartoon. You felt like your heart would burst at his affection, and you patted his back gently to lull him to sleep.

Eventually, Yuuji fell asleep. You hadn’t even noticed it was dark out already, the cartoons only playing through loop.

You scooped up Yuuji closer to your arms before shutting the TV off, making sure to be as quiet as you could be while you placed him back on his crib. Smiling at the angel, you patted his hair before leaving the room, knocking on Jin’s door at the end of the hallway instead.

When he didn’t respond after four knocks, you thought he’d fallen asleep until you remembered his note.

Shakily, you twisted the knob open, a small smile on your face when you saw him furiously sketching something on his paper. An empty cup of coffee laid beside his table, eraser shavings everywhere. His room smelled like soft laundry detergent with the faint aroma of white caramel coffee – smooth and sweet like him – and it felt almost wrong to be in such a space that was clearly so intimate of him.

Not wanting to disturb too much, you cleared you peered from behind the door sheepishly. “...Jin? Oh. Hello.”

“Hey,” he blinked at you then rubbed his eyes, staring at you for a solid minute before his mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape. “Is everything okay? Yuuji didn’t destroy something, did he?”

“No, he’s fast asleep. I just came here to say I’ll be going home now. It’s past midnight already.”

“It’s that late?” Jin glanced at his wristwatch and adjusted his glasses, fingers swiping up to retrieve his keys as he wore his coat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stay this late, and you have school tomorrow too,” he groaned tiredly, though the apologetic smile on his face easily concealed his exhaustion. “I’m really sorry I lost track of time. Come, I’ll drive you home, it’s not safe this dark out.”

“But Jin,” you froze in his hallway, “What about Yuuji?”

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, the dorms are like five minutes away,” Jin pondered about this information, possibly hesitating that maybe it wasn’t his best to leave his son alone. You appreciated the thought, you really did, but you were worried for Yuuji too so you smiled at him, nodding to assure that he didn’t have to. “Jin, it’s okay, I can just take the bus. I’ve been doing that for a long time now and I’m really okay.”

Jin clutched at his keys, the frown on his face evident. “At least let me walk you to the bus stop? So I know you’re safe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

“Let me just get extra covers for Yuuji. It might be cold tonight,” You waited until he came out with Yuuji warmly bundled up in his arms. The two of you walked side by side, baby Yuuji fast asleep in his arms with his head covered in a small cap. You blushed at the thought that maybe people would think you looked like a family, but before these foolish imaginations could consume you, Jin beat you to it. “I haven’t thanked you properly for today, by the way. Let me make it up to you sometime – you look really tired.”

You flushed deep at his words, shaking your hands in front of you. “Oh no, it’s fine, really! I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes, but caring for someone else’s child – whether you’re paid or not – is still a very selfless act and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

You looked away from how warm his smile was despite the biting chill of the night, turning away to bury your chin in your neck instead. “You really don’t have to do anything. I’m just happy to help.”

“If you insist then,” Jin waved at you as much as he could without waking his son up as you hopped onto the bus, with you watching from the inside. “Get home safely! Text me when you’re home!”

“I will,” you mouthed through the window.

Jin and Yuuji disappeared from your sight after that. All the way back home, the warmth and butterflies swarming your stomach wouldn’t disappear. Even as you flopped on your bed, you still kept tossing and turning, the bright light of your screen glaring at you to just send the darned text already.

Hey...or maybe hello? He’s older though... How do older people even text each other? He wasn’t that much older, but still...it kind of felt inappropriate to address him too casually.

Deciding to just screw it, you pressed backspace and settled for the most boring text, hitting send and flattening on the bed with a groan. Who knew texting someone could be that mind-boggling? Sweat beaded at your forehead as you stared at the plain I’m home, sleep about to take over when your phone buzzed afterwards.

I’m glad to know you’re safe. Sleep well, Y/N.

Looking over at your slumbering roommate, you grabbed a pillow to bite it and muffle your screams, legs flailing beneath you as you read his text over and over again. It wasn’t even that special, but Jin had wished you well – the hardworking and sweet Jin – sending your heart into overdrive.

Your roommate didn’t stir one bit even as you giggled to yourself, punching the bed while you replayed the image of his smile, the feeling of how warm he was walking close to you like that and the sound of his soothing voice that just messed with you on the insides.

God, you had it bad – and yet, why did it feel so good?

Babysitting had never been more fun. Even though the task was no longer new for you, you looked forward to working every single day. Your friends noticed your change in moods, but just downed it to the fact you were generally a cheerful person anyway and didn’t bother asking why, which you were thankful for because it wasn’t easy to admit it out loud you liked Itadori Jin, of all people.

Now that you looked back onto it, he wasn’t that special.

He was definitely the type of guy you easily overlooked in a train, but he would also be the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to give up his seat for someone else. It wasn’t like he was utterly interesting too since like you, his life was a bland routine of taking care of babies, working, holing up in his room to create something, drinking coffee as sweet and light as possible, then calling it a day and sleeping with a huge smile on their face, just thankful for another day.

Yes, he was simple. Yes, he might even be boring, but gosh, you had never liked someone so much.

You summed it down to him being kind and loving. Yes, that was all it was. While your friends flocked over to mysterious, dark guys like Fushiguro Toji and his friends, gossiping non-stop on how he supposedly had a hotter younger relative but were a lot shittier than he was, you were different. You were simple.

You liked soft, quiet guys who enjoyed the soft pit-patters of rain, the types of people who spent too much time in the library travelling across galaxies in their seat, and overall, you liked peaceful souls.

Jin was everything you ever admired – stable, simple, kind, affectionate. It was clear from how he was never shy to shower his baby with kisses and feed him with airplane spoons, using a small voice to baby talk his son. Every time you came around, you immediately felt welcomed into their happy home despite the lack of a maternal figure, and you found yourself wanting to be there a lot more often than you should.

It seemed that the heaven heard your prayers when your phone rang. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed at your blaring phone, eyes wide when you read the contact name.

“Hello? Jin, what’s wrong?” Yuuji was crying in the background, accompanied with his father’s constant shushing and worried cooing.

“H-hi, I’m really sorry to bother you, I know it’s late, it’s just Yuuji won’t stop crying and my neighbours are mad at me because I can’t get him to calm down,” as if on cue, Yuuji only wailed louder. You could hear Jin’s desperate pleas for him to quiet down a little, with you dashing out of your bed and slinging your arms inside your coat. “Could you please come over? I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way,” was all you said before hanging up. Minutes later, you’d entered their apartment thanks to the spare key Jin gave you, heart breaking as Yuuji’s wailings only got louder.

Jin’s shoulders visibly relaxed when you scooped his son into your arms, rocking back and forth as you pressed a palm flat on his forehead. He didn’t seem to be feverish or even warmer than usual, but he was definitely irritated, pushing away at your hands that laid on him.

“Yuuji, baby! What’s wrong, sweetheart? Something hurt anywhere?” you turned to Jin, “Is his diaper full?”

“I just checked, he didn’t poop,” Jin nibbled at his thumbnails, a quirk you didn’t expect he’d have with his seemingly put-together composed self. His son’s crying must’ve really bothered him because Jin wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, Yuuji’s newly cleaned pacifier clenched between his fingers. “I gave him the teething rings too but he just dumped them to the side.”

Nodding, you tried poking at Yuuji’s stomach. The baby belly that should’ve been squishy was firm against your finger, the imaginary light bulb in your head going off.

“His stomach is a little tight. I think he’s got gas,” you informed Jin with a relieved smile, glad that it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. “We need to make him burp,” Patting at Yuuji’s back while Jin gently massaged Yuuji’s belly, prompting the boy to wail louder with his tiny arms banging both your chest, a big burp was finally released.

“Oh my gosh, he’s still crying.”

“It’s okay, Jin, he’ll be fine,” you reassured, smiling wide at baby Yuuji even though he couldn’t focus on you. “That’s right, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just burp a little more and it won’t hurt so bad. It’s just gas, sweetie, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“B-but the neighbours...”

“Don’t mind them,” You didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh, but who could blame you? Yuuji was clearly in distress; the last thing you cared about was pleasing others. “They can plug in earbuds for all I care. Yuuji needs help,” at your words, Jin swallowed, resuming his ministrations of encouraging his son to burp.

Yuuji stilled for a moment before he resumed his crying. This time around, Jin was a lot calmer and focused as his hands rubbed at his son’s stomach. The burps came constant afterwards until Yuuji had enough, turning away from his father and burying his head on your chest. Small hiccups followed, but he’d calmed down, eyes shut tight from the previous discomfort.

“Are you feeling better now, baby? Tummy ache is gone?”

“He’s...not crying anymore...” Jin murmured in disbelief, his hands hovering above Yuuji’s belly.

“He’s still really red, though,” you frowned, hands brushing his bangs away from his forehead. It didn’t take long before Yuuji settled in, thumbs sucked into his mouth. Little whimpers could still be heard from the little guy, though nothing serious happened. You and Jin both sighed in relief. “I think he’s tired from crying. I’m going to go rock him for a bit,” Eyes flitting over to Jin’s face rigged with dark circles, you mustered a chuckle. “How about you, are you okay? You look half-dead,” you joked.

“He was in the crib next to me when he just started wailing out of nowhere,” Jin plopped down onto the sofa, his sweatshirt crinkled and sweatpants loose and comfortable as ever. “I was so scared that maybe something else was wrong.”

“Parenting is both a blessing and a hardship, huh?” you chided in, “Don’t worry. I still think you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad.”

“You’re quite amazing too. You’re a natural at this.”

You shrugged, unable to look Jin in the eye as you continued gently swaying side to side while Yuuji slept in your arms. “My parents were rarely around. They were too busy working to provide for all of us so I acted as the parental figure instead.”

“Your parents are really lucky to have you as a child – reliable and strong.”

“All I ever wanted was to make them proud,” you told him, looking far from the distance as you reminisced your old memories with your family. It felt so far away already – they felt far away – though you knew the love you had for one another still remained. “And I live a good life knowing they passed with no worries. My siblings are doing great, too, though we’ve all parted ways now. Some of them got adopted by our relatives and I’m...I’m here I guess.”

“I’m extremely sorry for your loss,” Jin’s voice was quiet, and when you looked back at him, you saw him smiling into his hands before turning to you, wearing that damned smile that always had your heart doing backflips. “You’re a really strong person, you know?”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. “Thank you. I think it’s all thanks to my parents,” you murmured; that slight pang of pain remained even after their death, though it wasn’t as awful as it used to be. The sting felt a lot calmer now, almost as if time slowly healed your heart back together. “After they passed from the car crash, I just knew I had to be strong for all of us. The pain and the hardship were worth the effort, though. All of us are happy and settled now.”

“That’s the one thing I’m most afraid of,” he confessed, frowning at the peaceful baby in your arms. “That I’ll have to leave my child before he’s ready to face the world by himself. I’m not...I could never be prepared for that.”

“As long as he knows you love him and you always will, I think Yuuji will always find his way in life,” Jin’s eyes widened, something unreadable glimmering behind those pretty eyes that had you feeling too many things all at once. Embarrassment and sudden shyness creeped all the way up to your spine along with exhaustion, and you gestured for him to move aside, heaving as you sat down next to him. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Please, let me hold – oh. He likes you more, I guess.”

You chuckled at his dejected face, the childish pout the exact replication of Yuuji’s. Yuuji refused to be held by his dad, burrowing himself into your warmth instead. “I’ve got a charm when it comes to children.”

“That you do,” he agreed absentmindedly.

Before any of you could realize what was going on, you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Yuuji was still safely nestled between your arms, while Jin’s head was tucked in your shoulder, soft breaths leaving those equally soft lips.

Oddly enough, when you woke up and noticed your current position, none of you found it weird. Jin only laughed at the way drool dried up at the end of your lips, to which you silently scolded him for as to not rouse Yuuji from his sleep. He didn’t move away from his position, eyes flicking over from yours to his son bundled up warmly, a smile tugging up at the ends of his lips.

“Uh... that was a long night.”

“Long night, indeed,” Jin nodded before standing up to stretch, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that made heat rush up to your face. You immediately looked away, heart pounding in your chest as Jin began to rummage through his kitchen. “It’s a Saturday so if you’re free...do you want to stay over for breakfast?”

Something about that night kicked off the start of your...budding friendship with Jin. Yes, that’s exactly what it was, just friendship.

You knew there was no way he could ever see you the way you looked at him; not that you minded. Being in their presence and having Yuuji around was already a blessing itself, the days progressively getting better the more you worked for him.

It had become a routine that Jin would come home, exhaustion lining his eyes before he caught sight of you standing in the living room, reading books out loud while you carried a babbling Yuuji. You would laugh because it felt like Yuuji was trying to have conversation with you, to which you responded with reading terms even you had difficulty pronouncing. He’d only nod and keep saying nonsense, grubby hands reaching for the book you held.

He was so precious that you leaned down to kiss the top of his head every now and then, giggles pouring out from the tiny baby strawberry.

Jin took off his shoes, the happiness bursting through his chest unexplainable upon seeing that his son was happy and safe. Loosening the tie with one hand, he extended his arms wide open, running into your direction. “I’m home!”

“Yuuji, Daddy’s here!”

“How’s my sweet little boy doing?” The smile on Jin’s face was phenomenal and even dramatic as his son finally reached out to him, the babbles only getting louder as his dad peppered his cheeks with kisses. Yuuji still wanted to stay in your arms though, and Jin sighed when his son’s hands went back to grabbing at your book, though the chuckles he let out told you he wasn’t really dismayed about it. “Thank you for looking out for him again. Isn’t your arm tired from carrying him and studying like that?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got really strong muscles,” you flexed your bicep, “Plus, it’s so comforting to carry an angel like Yuuji around. I feel like I’m going to pass my exams with ease!”

Not a moment later, you dropped your arm and turned away to hide your frown, brows pinched together. Jin, being the ever observant person he was, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle and warm as he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” you began, “I couldn’t understand something and I’ve been going at it for days. Nothing makes sense to me,” with the effort of only one free hand, you flipped to the middle of the book. A headache began to form the moment you read the chapter title, making you cringe while Jin leaned closer for a better look at its contents. “Look at this chapter here. It’s so confusing!”

“Oh, I know this!” he pushed his glasses back up to his nose, grinning as he pulled out a chair before gesturing you to do so. “Okay, so this means...”

Not even in your craziest dreams had you imagined you’d be sitting at Jin’s table like this, your legs touching from the lack of space as he rambled on excitedly about the lesson.

He would have animated gestures to explain the dynamics of this and that, both you and Yuuji staring at him in awe as he broke the chapter down into easier parts. It was still difficult to understand since your attention was mostly on the way his eyes brightened the more he talked about his passion for the subject, not to mention that Yuuji was also grabbing at both your faces.

It made you both laugh, the two of you simultaneously bending down to kiss either sides of his cheeks until Yuuji was squished between the both of you.

You laughed with Jin the moment you made awkward eye contact through the kiss, chests bursting with laughter before he proceeded back to the lesson. With each passing second, you were beginning to fall for him a lot more and on a deeper level – so much so that you told yourself you should be scared. Instead, your heart felt at home, calm and peaceful, almost as if it knew you were safe and welcomed.

This sudden revelation had you looking at him in an entirely different light. Jin looked...the same, but somehow warmer? Like he was bathed in a soft glow, the edges pink like his hair, and your hair melted at each and every word that poured from his lips.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you were greeted by the sight of a nearly passed out Jin on the couch, baby Yuuji asleep on his arms.

Jin must be really tired from work. He hadn’t even changed out of clothes. It was getting late too – you needed to come back home soon.

“Jin. Jin, wake up.”

“Huh?” his eyes snapped open, arms instinctively tightening around Yuuji’s before he relaxed, smiling stupidly as he leaned back on his seat. “Oh, it’s you. Hi.”

“Hi,” you echoed, nails digging into your palm to resist the urge to wrap him in a hug; he looked like he needed it. Hands held out in front of you, you took Yuuji from him, slightly nudging his knee with yours. “I’ll take Yuuji to bed. You should go freshen up,” Jin groaned in agreement as he ran his hands through his hair, muttering something about being a parent meant not getting to sleep well. You chuckled at his statement, already moving to get the cups out from the pantry. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, thank you.”

Jin disappeared into his room while you tucked Yuuji into bed, the both of you meeting later in the kitchen. He still looked terribly tired, though his smile was lively as ever when he joined you at the table. “Long day again?”

“It’s always a long day,” he confessed through a sip, “But all my worries wash away when I get to see how happy and healthy my son is. I’d work day and night just to provide a good life for him.”

“Don’t forget to spend time with him too, okay? Using the present to ensure your son’s future in exchange of not watching them grow up isn’t worth it,” you reminded him, slightly referring to how much you regretted not getting to be with your parents much until you completely lost the opportunity to do so again. Jin easily read your eyes, fingers grazing the edges of his cup as you continued, “He’s growing day by day. Promise me you’ll always be there for him, okay?”

“I promise,” though whispered, you heard it loud and clear, and you knew without a doubt he’d keep to his words.

After Jin washed his cup, you gathered your things and allowed him to walk you all the way to his apartment’s entrance, waving softly at you. “Get home safely, Y/N. Text me when you’re home.”

It was the perfect routine: go to school, go to work, fall in love with Jin and his son a lot more than you should be, and go home with his kind smile as the last thing you saw.

Each night before sleep completely overtook you, your phone would vibrate, the name of the man who had completely smitten your heart appearing and washing away all the previous tiredness you both accumulated through the day.

Good night, Jin. Rest well.

You too.

It was a routine you’d never get tired of.

“Jin? Yuuji?” you gasped as Yuuji greeted you with bubbling laughter, his small arms slapping your cheeks while his dad giggled behind him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Happy Birthday!” Jin greeted and finally showed his face after hiding from Yuuji’s buttocks. Your heart absolutely soared at the sight of the father and son duo wearing matching pink clothes, both of their bright smiles only adding to the warmth of the special day. No, actually, it became special because of them – the two people you adored most in this world. “Satoru texted me it was your birthday and it’s my day off too so I thought I’d drop by!”

Before you could respond, Jin huddled Yuuji closer to him, blinking at the audience you both managed to gather. “I forgot you lived at a dorm, though...is it normal that people are looking us?”

“No, it’s not. They probably think I’m a young mom or something,” you flushed beet red at his words, silently glaring at the nosy onlookers whispering behind their backs. It wasn’t that you were ashamed people could assume that about you, it was just ironic since you actually wanted that to be real but it was embarrassing because you knew Jin wouldn’t see you that way. “Can you give me a few minutes to get ready? We should go somewhere else.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. Brushing your teeth, showering, and getting dressed in your best clothing were all achieved in the span of ten minutes. You felt proud of yourself as you hopped the stairs two steps down at a time, hair flying from behind you. It was clear you were too excited, but could anyone blame you? You never cared about your birthday, but Jin and Yuuji were here! Of course this was going to be a special day.

You froze at the end of the stairs, the drumming of your heart too wild to tame. Jin was blowing kisses into Yuuji’s belly, the baby’s gleeful laughter painting the walls.

He must’ve felt your stare burning holes at the back of his head because Jin turned your way, Yuuji pressed into his chest as he walked towards you. You were once again blown away by his sweet scent, a mix of gentle laundry detergent and something was just so Jin.

“Hey there,” he smiled, knocking the wind out of your lungs with just two words. “I didn’t have anything cool planned for today since I wasn’t prepared but I know this nice restaurant you might really like. It’s going to be my treat!”

“Oh thanks, but my friends already fed me enough with pizza and cake. Is it okay if we just take a walk around somewhere?”

“Yeah, of course!” Grabbing his arm to pull him away from prying eyes, you walked out of the campus, extending your arms to celebrate your freedom once the warm sunshine kissed at your skin, the cool wind soothing you afterwards. Jin laughed at your carefree expression, watching as you twirled and danced a little at the peace provided to you by the park. “Happy Birthday again! So how’s it feel like being a year older?”

“I feel like nothing’s changed, but at the same time nothing is the same too,” you told him through a laugh, “Does that make sense?”

“Totally. When I first got Yuuji, I didn’t think anything changed too, but now I can’t imagine a life without this little guy.”

Your adrenaline rush had worn down.

Walking side by side with Jin, arms brushing from the lack of proximity even though the area was practically empty, it dawned on you that Jin had lived an entire life before you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking: “Do you...do you still think about her sometimes? His mom?”

Jin was silent for a moment. The sudden stretch of nothingness had anxiety crawling at you hard enough you were about to apologize for asking such a sensitive question, but Jin only smiled at you, although his smile was...sad, regretful, even.

“His mom and I didn’t work out,” he began. “I always knew she had some family issues when we began dating in college, but I didn’t think too much of it. Back then, all I knew was that I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her, so we eloped. Her parents didn’t like it, of course, and they demanded we brought her back,”

“She was pregnant at that time so I refused to let her see her family again knowing how toxic they were to her. But they insisted, and...and she wasn’t the same after that. She just started looking at me differently and hating the growing child inside of her,” Jin kissed the top of Yuuji’s head as he spoke, almost as if silently reminding his son he was loved no matter what.

“When Yuuji was born, she couldn’t even look at him; said she refused to be a mother and to cut ties with me. So we divorced and...well, I don’t know, to be honest. Last time I heard, she’d already remarried in such a short time – to a man her family approved of this time around.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed while Yuuji clutched at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, his doe eyes staring right up at you. “Do we ever really stop loving someone?”

Your heart fell at his words. So maybe he still did love her. You always knew you might never get a chance – but surely wishing for it wasn’t such a crime. “Does that mean you won’t fall in love with anyone else anymore?”

“Who would like a nerdy single dad like me?” Jin threw his head back in laughter, the disbelief apparent in his voice. It shocked you that he thought of himself this way, because in your eyes, he was perfect. “Plus, I’m too busy to date. Other than you, I don’t really hang out with women all that much, and you’ve seen in my worst state – like that one time I nearly went to work wearing the wrong tie or with my glasses skewed. I don’t think I’m the type people would want to date.”

“Well, who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows?” he mimicked your shrug, still painfully oblivious that you wore your heart on your sleeve.

Once the sun had completely shied away from the clouds and the heat grew too much for Yuuji, you both resorted to going back to his apartment. Yuuji was happily playing on the ground as he smashed his toys together, while you and Jin wore matching aprons (you didn’t ask why he had two) as you mixed the batter and he preheated the oven.

“I’m still sorry I couldn’t get to buy you a cake, by the way. But we have all the ingredients here and a homemade cake is always amazing!” Instead of smiling at his words, Jin was met with your glossy eyes, lips trembling. You’d completely stopped mixing the batter, no longer in control of yourself as you watched him happily skip back and forth to the ingredients.

Jin rushed to your side in a flash, hands hovering before you. He couldn’t really touch you since he had flour all over his skin, a smidge of it right under his worried gaze. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I’ve never really experienced this before. Having someone invite me to their home and bake me a cake for my birthday,” you looked down on the ground, feeling the emotional dam inside you starting to crack. “When I was young, I never even cared about my birthday because I was too busy tending after my siblings. After that, I forgot all about it and I was only surprised when my friends brought me gifts today,” You knew you were rambling, and you waved your hands in front of yourself, forcing yourself to smile. “I’m sorry – I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Suddenly, Jin pulled you into a hug, your body fitting perfectly in his arms. “I want you to know you’re family to us now. You’re always welcome here with me and Yuuji. We’ll take care of each other like family. We’ll bake you all the cakes you want from now on.”

The rest of his words were drowned out by the thumping of your chest.

You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even properly see him – in that moment, all you could do was feel. You felt his warm breath ghosting over the column of your neck, his calloused hands patting gently at your back, the heat of his body seeping into yours that pulling away seemed to be such a daunting task. He felt like home, smelled like all the sweetness you lacked in your life, and you just knew you had to tell him.

“Jin. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I,” your breath shuddered, hands coming up to clutch at the material of his shirt. “I’m in love with you.”

Just like that, the string broke.

Jin pulled away from you faster than you could comprehend. When you opened your eyes, he was already at an arm’s length away from you, nothing but the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces muddling with his words.

His back dipped into a low bow. “I am extremely sorry; I cannot accept your feelings. It’s not that you’re not loveable; it’s just...you’re my son’s babysitter and I believe this is really inappropriate. Yuuji is vulnerable still and the last thing I want to do is date when I should be focusing on his life instead. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t see nor do I feel that way for you.”

Hurt. Broken. Humiliated. Ashamed. Torn.

A plethora of feelings crashed over you all at once until breathing became such a hard thing to do, his words replaying like a broken record in your head.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t feel the same way.

And it made sense – because why would he? “Yeah, oh my gosh!” you exclaimed while waving your hands frantically in front of your face, your unexpected enthusiasm causing Jin to peer up at you curiously under his lashes. “I mean, of course, I knew that already, duh. I’m not stupid, but like, yeah I’m really sorry, I’m probably making you so uncomfortable right now. I’m really, really sorry.”

“You’re not, I assure you,” he smiled gently again, but this time around, you weren’t soothed. It felt totally humiliating. Your toes curled inside your socks as your forced smile froze on your face in hopes of not making this any weirder than it already was, and you only chuckled as Jin cleared his throat. “I hope we can still be friends after this and that we can keep our professional relationship,” you nodded eagerly, a little too eagerly, and Jin awkwardly gestured to the pans. “So...a cake is waiting to be baked.”

“Yeah, let’s get to baking!”

If Jin noticed that you were a lot more enthusiastic than you were this morning, he didn’t comment about it. He hummed under his breath in agreement, the both of you working synchronously.

You’ve been in his house long enough that you knew where all the pans and ingredients were, silently handing things over one another through a forced polite conversation of how the other’s day went. A pat on your back was well deserved from how you managed to keep up with his questions, your broken heart perfectly concealed under forced smiles and dry chuckles.

In reality, you couldn’t focus.

On the inside, you were shattered. Why did you have to fall for him out of all people? There could’ve been so many others – like Fushiguro Toji from Biology, Gojo Satoru the playboy, Suguru Geto the heir of his large corporation – but it had to be Itadori Jin.

He was so close and yet out of reach, seemingly so unattainable that your lips had dried from how often you licked at them in an attempt to keep the tears in.

You knew you ruined everything. Soon, you’d have to say goodbye to baby Yuuji, no longer able to kiss him on top of his head and see him smile the moment you walked through the door, his dad equally alight upon seeing you got Yuuji a stuffed toy as a gift.

You were stupid for thinking you could even be part of this family. They were happy and fine enough – what role did you have here?

Compared to an actual working adult who’d already experienced many things in life like Jin, you were just a flimsy, lovesick little girl who was only learning how to love. And with loving, came the guaranteed promise of heartbreak.

You just never expected it would be this way.

As Jin turned his back to you to place the batter inside the oven, your hands shook, desperately wiping the sweat of your palms on your jeans. “Excuse me for a minute,” you dashed to the bathroom, locking yourself and finally allowing the broken gasps to leave your lips.

Your back was laid flat on the wall, your shirt tucked in your mouth as you slapped your thigh, the tears streaming endlessly down your cheeks.

You didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to stay longer, wanted to be able to see his face every waking morning and to make him tea while he made breakfast. You wanted to watch Yuuji grow up and hold hands with Jin, to tell him you would love him if he allowed you. But he didn’t – and it hurt so much that your eyes grew red from the incessant crying.

It was better to just leave than to be kicked out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

So you wiped your tears away, dunking water to your face before you rushed out the room, bag slung across your shoulder. Yuuji stopped playing as he watched you wear your shoes in frantic movements, your heart bursting through with pain.

You didn’t dare look Jin in the eye.

“Hey, Jin, I’m so sorry – my friends called. They’re inviting me out for drinks tonight and I can’t say no.”

“But...the cake.”

“Yeah, you can eat it yourself, I’m really sorry to bother but uhm, anyways, BYE!” Left confused, Jin stared at the door slammed shut hard enough that Yuuji fell to the floor in surprise, small whines leaving his lips.

Jin couldn’t tell whether his son cried because you’d left them, or he was simply afraid of the sound. Whatever it was, the sinking feeling in his stomach was much too clear.

The next few days were hell. Your friends noticed the sudden drop in your mood, the loss of appetite, and the fact that you were clearly sleep-deprived.

How could you get sleep when your phone wallpaper was Yuuji kissing your cheeks, his dad laughing in the background? How could you sleep when your textbook still lay on your desk, a painful reminder of that time Jin had tutored you? How could you sleep when Wednesdays and Fridays had returned to its normal mundane self with nothing left to look forward to?

You couldn’t tell your friends about it either. All they knew was that you hadn’t been going to work because you came up with a flu, when in reality you’d been buried under your sheets, desperately ignoring the loud silence of your phone.

No texts. No calls. No how are you’s or how are you doing?

Not that you expected him to care since you did step out of line; you’d been completely unprofessional and Jin might not recommend you to future works anymore, though that was the least of your worries.

You just wanted to forget everything. His smile, his laughter, his kindness, the sound of his voice and how he always smelled like sweet vanilla.

Crying yourself to sleep and wishing each day would come to an end faster was absolutely exhausting. The lack of sunlight caused you to be groggy and gray – if you kept up at this state, you’d completely wither like a dried sunflower. You didn’t want to go out but your mini fridge was empty, stomach loudly grumbling for food.

You sighed as you closed the door, unkempt hair up in a bun and body adorned with an oversized shirt and the sweatpants you’ve refused to wash for two days now.

You were a mess – both on the inside and the outside – and your eyes lacked their usual warmth. Your movements mimicked that of a robot as you straggled to the nearest convenience store, about to enter when you heard someone cry out.

“Mama!”

Hands frozen on the door, your eyes widened before your head craned to the sound of rushed footsteps. In front of you was a panting Jin, a wailing baby Yuuji in his arms who only cried louder once he set his eyes on you. Jin gasped for air, and you both moved in sync, with you reaching out for baby Yuuji and him handing his child over to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! Yuuji’s first word was Mama and I didn’t know what he meant but then he started crying and clutching the strawberry toy you got him and I’m so sorry, he just won’t stop crying. He kept looking for you.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” you replied back, adding a bounce to your step to cradle Yuuji who’d buried his damp face onto your neck, crying mama over and over again.

Memories of meeting Jin for the first time and his reminder that he didn’t want Yuuji calling you that nearly made you kneel down in apology, but you opted for a slight bow, your hot tears trailing down your face because you missed him, but it was all messed up and seeing him once more only dug a deeper crater in your heart.

Before you completely left each other’s lives, you at least wanted to apologize.

“I realized my mistake and made it so weird for the both of us. Plus, Yuuji didn’t say Dada and I think that’s my fault. I swear I wasn’t trying to replace his mom or anything, I just—”

“I love you too,” he cut you off, and your eyes snapped from the ground back to his flustered face.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for lying that I don’t feel the same way,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck while his ears flushed a deep red. “The truth is, my father always told me that Yuuji’s mom wasn’t a good person and I should stay away from her, but I never listened. A-and I always talked to him about Yuuji’s new babysitter and how kind you were and how I think I’m falling for you. He said I should man up and tell you but I was just afraid to love again since I’ve fallen before and I don’t want to be hurt again,” Jin bowed to you in a perfect angle, his son now at peace in your arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Jin,” you breathed out, the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening – you wanted to embrace him, to kiss him, hold him, but you’d been so engrossed in your own heartbreak you never even thought about Jin’s fears. “I’d never hurt you or Yuuji.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for hurting you like that,” he straightened up, feeling you stiffen under him when his arms wrapped around you. He felt so warm, and you felt so at place that your tears damped his sweatshirt, Jin’s hands gently caressing your waist. “Is it okay if we come back home?”

You cried louder than you ever did your whole life, though this time it was mixed with laughter. Jin laughed with you as you encircled your free arm around his neck to pull him closer, your lips eager as you littered kisses over his neck.

“Yes, of course,” you giggled, “You don’t even have to ask.”

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away, and neither did Jin. This time, you embraced each other wholeheartedly, pink hearts floating in the air while the strawberry-haired baby giggled in your presence, delighted that now his family was whole.

#itadori jin x reader #itadori jin #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen romance #jjk #jjk itadori jin #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk romance #uh idk how else to tag this but anyways have some jin content #JIN SIMPS UNITE #HE'S THE BEST DAD FUFU

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

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Safe

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Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,870ish

Request: Hi so this is my first time actually talking about this but I have PTSD from when I went to a party and 2 guys sexually assaulted me. I think about it a lot epically when I'm in crowds and such thinking they may be near me. I know Tony deals with PTSD but from a different situations and I was wondering how he would help his girlfriend with it? & I just really wanna feel safe when it's so hard for me to right now

Warnings: sexual assault (not explicit), mention of rape and rape kit, PTSD

Notes: I hope that did this request justice. Please read carefully. The first “section” (divided by the ~~~) tells about the sexual assault incident. It doesn’t go too in depth. But if you don’t feel comfortable reading it, please skip that part and read the rest. (If you chose to skip that part, begin reading after the first ~~~.)

You couldn’t stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks. Even though you knew how it looked, especially as you sat in the corner of the subway car. Trying to get yourself to disappear from the world. Mascara had joined your tears cause you hadn’t thought to wear a waterproof type. Why would you? You never thought that it would happen to you. Yes, you’ve heard the stories, you’d been warned, and you even knew people who had it happen to you. But maybe you didn’t think it could ever since you became an Avenger. Ever since you’d meet Tony and he promised to protect you forever.

You went to the party knowing that you couldn’t drink, at least not very much. There was an important mission tomorrow, everyone on the team was needed. That was also the reason why you didn’t want to go to the party at first. But Tony had convinced you, saying that you needed to hang out with your old friends.

The old friends had met you in front of where the party was. Greeting you with large smiles and hugs. The first few hours were fine. But the people got drunker and the music got louder. And before you knew it you had been separated from your friends. Two guys were next to you, basically on top of you because of how crowded the space was.

They both tried to get you to go someplace else with them. You kept refusing. They kept pushing. Eventually, they didn’t care to get you into a more secluded setting. They shoved a drink down your throat, almost immediately putting you in a dazed state. One of them went behind you while the other stayed in front. They sexually assaulted you right then and there. With no one caring. One was always holding you up with a hand around your mouth, so that the other could be inside you. Then they would switch or join the other.

Slowly, they were moving you to the side of the room. You didn’t know what to do, how to react. You were in such a state of shock that all your training went out the window. Whatever they gave you wasn’t helping as well. They enjoyed you for far too long before literally tossing you in the alley outside of where you were.

There you laid, trying to get yourself to move. Eventually you did. As you got up, you noted your lack of undergarments. All you had on was your dress. Your purse was missing as well. Your whole body was shaking as you headed out of the alley to the nearest subway station.

You hadn’t even noticed the tears until you were sitting in the subway car. Getting weird looks. You didn’t care though. All you wanted to do was go home and wash this night away.

~~~

“Sir, it appears Miss L/N is back,” JARVIS informed Tony. He was up late in his lab, not being able to sleep without you safely in the Tower.

“Thanks, J,” Tony responded. “Tell her—“

“There’s something wrong.” Tony’s head snapped up. JARVIS had never spoken like that. Spoken with just concern. “I’m bringing her to you.”

Tony rushed to the elevator, already knowing not to question JARVIS. He waited anxiously for the elevator to open. And when it did, his heart completely shattered. You were hugging yourself, pushed up against the corner of the elevator. You were on the ground, your face a mess.

“Y/N!” Tony exclaimed.

You flinched. You looked up at him, but you weren’t seeing him. Your eyes were red and glassed over, and not just because of the tears you were shedding. Tony crouched down in front of you, careful not to get into your space.

“Honey… wanna tell me what’s going on?” You shook your head, still not looking at him. “Alright, that’s okay. Can I help you up? I think you need to be checked out.”

“No!” You squeaked, pushing yourself further into the corner.

“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you. Have I ever?”

You breathed raggedly, trying to get your brain to form coherent thoughts. “N-noo…”

“Then can I carry you out of the elevator?”

It took you a moment, but eventually you nodded. Tony let out a breath of relief before quickly getting his arms situated to pick you up. As he did, your dress moved up, revealing that you had no underwear on. Tony’s heart clenched and he had to repress a growl building in his throat. You didn’t need to tell him what happened anymore, he could easily guess. And after he was done helping you, he was going to make sure whoever did this to you paid.

You were trembling in his arms as he carried you out of the elevator and into his lab. Tony set you down on a clean work bench and watched you curl in on yourself. He turned to his monitors, taking a deep breath before he freaked out. He typed quickly on his keyboard, notifying Wanda and Natasha of the situation and to hurry on up to the lab. He then contacted the Tower’s female doctor, requesting her to the lab immediately.

Wanda and Natasha were in the lab faster than Tony had expected. He had moved to your side, trying to figure out what to do. You were still crying and partially dazed.

“Y/N,” Wanda called sweetly, appearing next to your head. “You’re in shock. May I help you?”

“I… I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“I won’t do anything without your permission. I just want you to feel some peace, get some rest.”

“….okay….”

“Before Wanda does anything,” Natasha cut in. She paused, briefly glancing at the other two. “We need your verbal consent to do a rape kit.”

You clenched your eyes shut as a sob tore through your whole being. Your heart was racing dangerously as you began to struggle to breath.

“Sir, it seems that Y/N is panicking,” JARVIS said.

“No, shit, J!” Tony responded. “Hey, honey, hey.” He bent down to be closer to your face. “I need you to breath or to allow Wanda to help you. It’s your choice. Nothing will be done without your consent.”

Tony gripped your hands close and ever so lovingly. You allowed yourself to look into Tony’s pleading brown eyes. You knew that he would never hurt you, he never had. Shakily, you nodded.

“Yes,” you rasped. “Help me.”

Tony pulled your hands to his lips, kissing them. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“Y/N, we need your verbal consent for the rape kit,” Natasha reminded, gently.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “You can do the rape kit.”

Wanda’s red streams of power floated around your head, putting you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. And that’s when Tony let loose. He turned around and threw the items off his desk with a shout.

“Tony! Tony!” Natasha exclaimed, moving to stop the billionaire. She grabbed him from behind, turning him around and pulling him in for a hug.

“I failed her,” Tony cried softly. “I failed to protect her.”

“You didn’t do anything. No one could have seen this coming.”

“Excuse me,” the doctor exited the elevator. “I was called up here.”

“Yes, yes,” Tony nodded, putting his sunglasses over his eyes. “The patient, Y/N, is on the table. She’s given verbal consent for a rape kit and I would like her blood to be drawn. I want to see if she was drugged.”

“Cause there should have been more bruises and fight marks,” Natasha whispered, putting the pieces together.

She knew you. She trained with you. You were capable of taking down Steve and Bucky on your best day. How did you not fight this? Natasha and Tony both knew you would have, so there had to be something that prevented you from doing so.

“Alright, I’ll get right to work.”

~~~

When you began coming to, you noticed how badly your head was pounding. You were confused initially, at your surroundings. The white and gray walls. The twin bed and the monitors beeping. But then it all came flooding back to you. You gasped, sitting up dramatically and frantically looking around the room. The monitor beside you began beeping faster and louder.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Tony said, rushing into the room. He sat on the edge of your bed and set his hands on your upper arms. “Breathe, honey, breathe. You’re in the med-bay, you’re safe.”

“I… they…” You stuttered as you tried to catch your breath and your racing thoughts. “I should have… I could have…”

“Whatever you’re thinking, sweetheart, I need you to stop. It was not your fault. You were drugged.”

“I-I know… they stuffed it down my throat… I… I kept saying no… But there was two of them…”

“You don’t have to talk about it right now,” Tony cupped your cheeks, brushing his calloused thumbs across your cheeks to catch the tears. “I don’t want you to get worked up when you’ve just gone through a trauma.”

“I… I… they…” You were getting worked up, which was definitely something you did not need right now.

“Sssshhhh,” Tony coed. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

“Good morning,” the doctor greeted, walking into the room. “How are we feeling this morning?”

“I… I don’t know how to answer that,” you responded quietly.

The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “That’s to be expected. Are you hurting anywhere?”

You sucked in your lip and thought about it. You did hurt. Your heart, your head. Every area they touched burned, like a phantom pain. But do you tell them that? Do you freak them out and worry them more? Or do you lie?

“I… uh…” You stuttered. “It…” The doctor and Tony eyed each other, worriedly. “Um… y-yes…”

Both the doctor and Tony were surprised at how you were actually honest with them. But they weren’t going to question it.

“Okay,” the doctor jot something down on the tablet she was holding. “Do you mind sharing where exactly you’re feeling the pain?”

“I… um… no…” you said.

“That’s okay. I’ll just order you a general painkiller, hopefully that will help.”

“Is it okay if I take her to our room?” Tony wondered.

“Yes, I can check in on her there and she would be more comfortable, I’m guessing.”

“Please,” you pleaded quietly.

You needed some place more private and where you felt safe. Tony and yours shared room had always been your safe place. Tony had even shared with you that he felt the same after you had moved in. In that room you two had shared very intimate moments. Physically, emotionally, mentally. It was a place where both of you could let your guard down and completely be yourselves.

Tony leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll go get a wheelchair, sweetheart.”

Tony quickly grabbed a wheelchair and gently placed you in the chair. He took the blanket that he had laid on you when you were on the table, and placed it on you. You curled onto the chair, pulling the blanket around you. He thanked the doctor before pushing you to the bedroom.

Once you were there, Tony placed you onto the bed. He helped you under the covers before sitting beside you.

“What can I help you with, dear?” Tony asked softly. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb along the top of it. “Do you need anything? Food? Water?”

“Actually… a shower…” you responded. “I need to wash all this off me.”

“Okay, okay. Let me go get it all set up and started and then I’ll help you.”

He rushed off before you could get the courage to tell him that you didn’t want his help. Not that you didn’t appreciate it. But you couldn’t stand the thought of him, or any other man for that matter, touching your skin or see you naked. Tony was back faster than you thought he would be. He didn’t take any notice of your glossy eyes as he picked you up, took you into the bathroom, and set you on the edge of the tub.

“I’m going to help you out of your clothes, okay?” Tony was careful, making sure that he had your permission before he did anything.

“N-noo,” you squeaked. “I… sorry…”

Every time Tony thought his heart couldn’t shatter anymore, you’d do something to prove him wrong. “Okay, honey. That’s okay. I’ll just leave the door ajar and be outside if you need anything.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Right outside.”

Then he left you. You slowly removed your clothes, hating seeing the dress you used to love. And the skin you used to be so confident in and let Tony worship didn’t physical look different, but it sure felt different.

When you stepped under the streaming, hot water, you let it pound against your back. You were unable to move for longer than you cared to admit, so stuck inside your mind. Reliving those horrific memories that were last night.

“Honey,” Tony’s voice filled the shower, with help from JARVIS, “your heart rate is escalating. Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah-h,” you replied.

“Are you sure?”

No, you thought. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “I’ll be out in a minute!”

You washed your hair before you began to scrub your body. And scrub and scrub. Until your skin was red. You turned off the water before stepping out and drying yourself. Thankfully, Tony had left clothes for you. A pair of his boxers and your favorite shirt of his.

While you had been in the shower, Tony was leaning his back against the wall next to the door. Trying to keep his tears at bay. He couldn’t let you know how this was effecting him, because he couldn’t imagine how bad this was all effecting you.

When you finally came out of the bathroom, the emptiness in your eyes scared Tony the most. He wordlessly helped you into bed before getting into the bed himself. He moved over to you and tried to bring you into him, only for you to immediately tense up.

“I’m sorry,” you rasped. You clenched your eyes shut as you tried not to release any tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony’s arms immediately retracted. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s going to take time and I’ll be here every step of the way.”

~~~

The nightmares that occurred made you feel so bad. You woke up Tony every night. But all he would say is that you did the same for him, so he’s just returning the favor. It was the truth. Tony’s PTSD used to keep him up at night, but with you and therapy he had been gaining positive strides. So he was determined to help you do the same. He found you a therapist, which took some time for you to open up to, but you did. He didn’t touch you without your permission, and made sure everyone else did the same.

It took you almost six months for you to get physical with Tony again. But there was no funny business about it, you two were still taking it slow. You were slowly healing, slowly feeling safe again. Though sometimes for every step forward you took, you felt like you would then take four steps back. There was one thing you hadn’t made progress with at all yet. Crowds.

Crowds had you terrified. Always checking your surroundings for the men that had harmed you. Or for any person that might think of doing the same. That had gotten you taken off missions, for the foreseeable future. You had barely left the tower since that night. Only getting fresh air from the balconies and rooftop. Tony, because of you, had even stopped hosting parties. Team movie nights even took a while to start back up. Not wanting to rush you. But you had finally began to warm up to the team as a whole again.

You had successfully avoided crowds, parties, and galas of any sorts for months. Well, until the government had decided to honor the Avengers and it became a requirement for you to show up to the celebration gala.

“I’m going to be by your side all night,” Tony promised.

He had a hand above your knee as you two sat close together in one of the limos taking the Avengers to the gala. You two were decked out in some of your best attire, which could usually lift your mood because of how extremely handsome Tony looked. But it was failing to tonight. Your palms were sweaty, you kept having to wipe them against your dress. Your heart was trying to not race and you were trying to keep your mind from spiraling out of control.

“Hey, look at me,” Tony gently directed. You let out a shaky breath as you did. He could see the fear in your eyes, while you could see the overwhelming love in his. “Natasha and Clint have done a sweep of the building. JARVIS, Maria, and I have checked over the guest list. Everything’s going to me alright.”

“I… I don’t know—“

“We don’t have to stay long. After they hand us that bloody paperweight, we’re out, okay? I have Happy on stand-by with the limo to take us wherever you want. Plus, I won’t leave your side.”

You swallowed. “Let’s get out of this car before I change my mind.”

Tony pecked your lips. “You got it.”

Tony exited out the door on his side, the flashing lights of the paparazzi beginning. You took another shaky, deep breath as Tony ran around to your side to open the door. He held his hand out to you, firmly taking yours once it was placed. He pulled you from the car and guided you through the crowd of people. Yes, they were all behind barriers. But they were shouting your name, shouting questions. It wasn’t a secret that you hadn’t appeared on a mission, let alone outside the Tower, in months.

Tony paused you two a few times for pictures. Always keeping you tightly to his side. He’d press a kiss somewhere on your open skin and whisper about how good you were doing and how proud he was of you. You kept taking deep breaths and tried to focus solely on Tony. He noticed each breath, responded with a gentle squeeze or a kiss.

Finally, you arrived inside. It was a large area, very grand with a stage and set tables on the other end of it. With a dance floor in the middle and a bar on the side. You would have appreciated it all more if there weren’t so many people. The further you entered, the harder time you had not checking your surroundings. The itch to do so was driving you mad. The moment you turned your head to check over your shoulder, Tony turned it to face him.

“Your breathings picking up, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I need you to match mine.”

“I—I—I can’t… we need to go home,” you stammered, letting your fears get the best of you.

“Yes, you can. We’ve been working on this, we’ll be gone within the hour.”

“I…” Your head snapped towards the sound of a booming voice, causing you to almost jump out of your skin.

“Woah there.” Tony held onto you. “It’s just Thor telling the congress people a story. You’re okay.”

“I really don’t think I can do this, Tony.”

“What do you always say when I begin to panic?”

“That’s different. You—“

“No arguing. What do you tell me?”

“I tell you that you can get through it. That I will go through it will you.”

“And?”

“I tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.”

“And what do I tell you?”

“That I can do it. That you’re proud of how far I’ve come and how you’re going through it with me.”

“Exactly. The fact that you got out of the limo was a huge accomplishment. And that you’re standing in this building with people all around you is an even bigger one. Honey, you have made so much progress even just tonight. That makes me so very proud of you.”

“But I still don’t know how much longer I can do this for.”

“That’s fine. Completely fine. How about we see if a dance will help? We’ll be able to see the whole room together, keep an eye out. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll leave. Who cares about this dumb award anyway?”

“One dance… I’ll try one dance.”

Tony smiled as he pulled you onto the dance floor. He held you close as he twirled you around. The both of you checked your surroundings. You knew that nothing would happen with Tony with you, your brain just didn’t want to believe it. No matter what.

“Tony,” you rasped once the next song started. Your head was spiraling and your heart was still on the verge of racing. “I… I really think I need to go.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll send a message to the team in the car,” Tony responded. “Let’s go.”

He led you out, calling Happy on the way. You let out a breath of relief at the fact he was taking you the back way so that no one would make a fuss over it. Thankfully, Happy was already ready and waiting. He opened the door for the two of you. You sent him a grateful smile, which he reciprocated. The moment Happy shut the door, you leaned heavily into Tony. You hadn’t realized how much of your energy was being used to try and keep yourself calm.

“Just relax, baby,” Tony whispered, holding you close. “Nothing’s going to happen to you in here. I’ve got you.”

“Where to Boss?” Happy asked.

Tony looked down at you. He smirked when he realized that you had passed out. “Home, Hap. Let’s go home.”

~~~

Tony carried you into the bedroom. Before the incident, he would have been able to change you out of your clothes without permission. But now he needed to ask you, he didn’t want to push you over the edge.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, gently shaking you. You groaned. “I need you to wake up, baby. You need to get changed so that we can go to bed.”

“M’kay,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering, failing to open.

“Just wait here, I’ll grab everything.”

All you could do was nod in response. Tony rushed around, changing himself before grabbing the things he needed for you. He told you every move he was going to make before he made it, not wanting to freak you out. Once you were all ready, he pulled you into bed with him. He pressed a kiss to your head and held you close, thinking that you were already asleep.

“Thank you, Tones,” you murmured, practically moving to lay yourself on top of him, “for always keeping me safe.”

“Of course, honey, of course.”

TAGLIST INFORMATION

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x female!reader #iron man fanfiction #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #the avengers x reader

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

Text

Cruel Intentions - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

WC: 6.8k

Summary: It’s Life Day but Anakin is mad and he’s got a dirty fucking mouth

WARNINGS: 18+, some mean talk but it’s not really degrading, oral (m) receiving, p in v, holiday fun?

(a.n. plz, plz, pretty plz get Anakins voice in your head when you read this. watch a video of hayden stuttering his way through an interview or something, whatever, it just wont be the same unless you get his voice saying all this. anyway, continue. and merry christmas/happy holidays).

(Gif from @madeleineengland )

You had always loved Life Day, but this one in particular was going to be something special. Anakin scored time off from the war, and through the help of Padme, you got one of her lakeside Naboo houses all to yourselves for the holiday.

You arrived before Anakin, as he was finishing up a meeting with the Jedi Council, and passed the time by making cookies. You were having a pretty good time at it too— your hair was up, music blasting, candles lit, and half a glass of wine was slowly disappearing as you danced around the kitchen. Then you heard the door jiggle and open, and a gust of cold air from around the corner signaled that Anakin was here.

Right away, you could tell he was mad. He walked through the door with a scowl, face drawn in irritation, yanking his robe off and shaking the snow out of his hair. He threw his robe up on the hanger and nudged the door shut with his elbow. He didn’t even take his boots off as he came into the kitchen, still in full uniform.

You considered asking him what the mood was for, but in all honesty, you were afraid of his reaction. Usually he either deflects or gets mad back, and you really don’t want to fight.

But he was silent as he prowled around the kitchen, taking in your activities, and you wanted to know what was bothering him on Life Day’s Eve of all days. If you could make it better, you’d try. So you softened your voice, and in your warmest, most innocent tone, you tried, “Hi, Anakin, I miss you! I’m making cookies if you want to stay here and help. Or just sit and watch. I don’t mind.”

You thought you’d start off simple. Get him to relax a bit, and then dig into what the issue was. He stood by the doorway, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not mad that I’m late?”

He thought you were mad? You were too tipsy to be mad. Honestly, you hadn’t even been keeping track of the time.

“Of course not! You had a council meeting, that’s important. I’m just glad to have you now,” you shot him your brightest grin. “Besides, we have all week to ourselves.”

At that, his shoulders loosened and he smiled a little back at you. It disappeared quickly, but his affections were replaced with two strong arms winding around your waist, one warm and one metal. He huffed lightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you mix the icing in your bowl.

His demeanor was slightly better than you had previously perceived, so you decided to risk it.

“...Did something happen?”

“Just the same old,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. It’s cold from the snowflakes still wetting his hair, and you shivered. “The council doesn’t trust me, they still won’t consider making me a master. Windu thinks I shouldn’t even be on the council.”

You struggled to find words to this. You wanted to take his side, and tell him he deserved to have it all. At the same time, the council was full of old and wise members, and they knew what they’re doing. But you hated how much it was bothering Anakin, hated how under all that anger there was hurt, and a fear that he wasn’t good enough. The council was making him doubt himself, and it you wouldn’t have that.

“It’ll all come in due time, I’m sure of it,” you tell him. “Whether they like it or not, you’re on the council for a reason. You belong there, and I’m sure if you give it a littlest more time they’ll come around to seeing how you deserve the title of master. Besides,” you twist around in his arms enough to skim your lips across his jawbone, pressing a lingering kiss into his neck. “I can call you Master whenever you’d like.”

This made Anakin freeze, and then begin to laugh. His low chuckles vibrated your body, and you couldn’t help but join in with him.

“I might have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

Your stomach clenched at the insinuation, heat pulsing through your veins. That was one of your goals for the night, admittedly— to be with Anakin. You had a little surprise for him as well, and you were just hoping he wouldn’t be too disgruntled or worked up to appreciate it. That being said... sometimes it was a good thing when he was frustrated.

Anakin sacrificed a hand to reach forward and dip into the bowl, scooping a dollop of blue icing out and placing it in his mouth. You heard him suck it off his finger, beating the dirty thoughts back with a stick.

“Is it good?” You ask to distract yourself.

“Here, try.”

You turn, expecting him to offer you a finger with some icing on it but instead he kisses you. Immediately your mouth is flooded with the sugary blue that stains his lips. You open your mouth, tongue tasting his, and he’s sweet. Your cheeks are burning bright as he kisses you, slow and deep and dirty, and it’s such a 360 from the lighthearted atmosphere you’ve created.

When you pulled back, you’re breathing hard, mouth tingling, licking your lips for the remnants of sweet icing. Anakin smiled down at you, eyes dark, and went back to resting his head on your neck, whispering in your ear in a low, rumbling voice. “Finish up. There’s other plans I want to get to.”

•••

Anakin ended up having to leave again as you were icing the cookies to take one last impromptu call from Obi-Wan, just some last minute tying-loose-ends before his short break. He also took the chance to get out of his Jedi clothes, trading the leather armor and robes for more comfortable sleep clothes— which included loose fitting pants that hung low on his hips, and that damned sleep robe he wears without a shirt.

He came back into the kitchen just as you were finishing up, and you almost choked when you saw him.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s snowing pretty heavily out there and you’re not even wearing a shirt.”

“I’ve got a fire going in the master bedroom, it should warm the place up soon,” he took some of your dirty dishes to the sink. “Why, do you not like it?”

“No, I—“ you stutter. It’s just the opposite. He’s beautiful beyond words. “I just didn’t want you to be cold.”

“I’m alright,” he smiled at you teasingly, reaching around you to grab the last of the dishes.

Once they’re in the sink, he found you climbing up onto the counter, putting the spices away that were, of course, in the highest cabinet out of reach. You stretched up to reach it, unashamedly putting on a little show for Anakin as you exaggerate the curve of your backside.

The action caused the holiday shorts you’re wearing to ride up, exposing the fleshy underside of your behind. You turned around to find him watching you, not even trying to hide it. He leaned back on the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, eyes thoughtful as he took in the sight.

“Help me down?” You asked him, and he immediately pushes himself off the counter to fit his hands around your waist, lowering you safely to the ground. He held onto you a little too tight for it to be innocent, and you could feel him gravitating toward you, leaning in to start something you wouldn’t be able to stop. You pull away— you're not done with him, in fact your teasing has just begun.

Anakin huffed quietly to himself as you moved around him to start the warm water, soaking the dishes in it so the batter won’t stick overnight. You purposefully shot some water onto your shirt so that you had to gather a wad of paper towels in your hand and dab at your chest, pulling your shirt down so you could get at the wet spots. Anakin rolled his eyes as you grumbled about how clumsy you were, but you could see he was discreetly trying to look.

His resolve was already thin when he walked through the door. He hadn’t been able to have you in far too long, and he was planning on doing something about that tonight. He wasn’t sure what page you were on, though…. You seemed pretty content with baking cookies and then watching movies all night like you had mentioned in the days leading up, so your little teasing games were doing nothing to quell his curious anticipation.

You didn’t even have to try to get him all worked up. The spice cabinet, the wet shirt, those weren’t needed. It was like you didn’t even realize the effect you had on him— every little move you made around the kitchen, every little sigh or gasp or giggle, even the way you bent down to take the damn cookies out of the oven had him yearning for you.

The last straw was when you needed a rag to clean the countertop, so you reached across his lap where he was sitting to grab it. You placed a not-so-innocent hand on his thigh to steady yourself, brushing against his chest as you did so. He was immediately enveloped in your smell, and the feel of your soft hair against his chest, your hand on his thigh— he needed to have you, now.

“Y/n, forget the cookies,” he demanded.

“Oh?”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

•••

Your tongues clashed, teeth nipping, breaths gasping for air as you struggled to get closer to one another. All of Anakin’s anger and frustration was pouring out him in bruising kisses, fast and wet and greedy. You were combatting it with your own dirty, lustful responses. It was one of your favorite things to feel so needed by him, even if he was projecting his emotions from the day onto you. You were his outlet, the only thing that could help him, and you would gladly take these punishing kisses for as long as he needed.

The hand that wasn’t threaded through your hair exploded the rest of your body, fitting into each and every curve, squeezing at certain places and pulling you closer, adjusting you on his lap. He slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of your shirt, pulling it to the side so he could suck at the pulse in your neck, when he caught a flash of red.

His eyes darkened, lips twisting into a smirk as he traced the lacey garment. Suddenly his hands were gone, and he was leaning back away from you. “Show it to me.”

So you stood before him and undressed, feeling small under his steady gaze. It was loaded with heat, and you could practically read his mind as each new strip of skin and the lacy red underwear you had worn specially for this occasion was revealed. He was planning everything he wanted to do to you, drinking you in, and storing away the sight into his memory for later times, when he’s on the battlefield and it’s been months and he misses you. But for now though, his present was waiting for him.

The look of him illuminated by the firelight, eyes scorching as he studied every inch of you had you squirming under his gaze. He leaned back in the loveseat, arrogant posture annoyingly sexy with the way his broad shoulders filled out the chair, long legs spreading before him.

You needed to touch him. He wasn’t saying anything, or doing anything, so you approached him and settled yourself back on his lap, meaning to restart where you had left off. You trailed your hand down the smooth, hard planes of his body, feeling the ridges of his abs, the soft skin smooth and warm. He kept his arms slung lazily over the armrests, refraining from touching you, but you could feel the steady pulse of his eyes as he watched your every move.

Those deep, calculating eyes. They made you nervous, but you’d be lying if you said the intimidation didn’t turn you on.

He let you tangle one of your hands in his hair, feeling the soft curls glide between your fingers as you looked over him. But just as your palm slid near the band of his pants, he caught your wrist in his metal hand and stopped you.

“Get on the bed,” he flicked his eyes behind you, a cocky, mischievous glint in them. He knew you’ll do anything he said, with that voice.

Hesitantly, you stood from his lap and made your way over to the bed. Your skin was raised with goosebumps, as you knew he was studying your every move. You sat on the plush mattress of the bed, crossing your legs over the knee, and looked at him. He was blanketed in shadows, but stared right back.

“Spread your legs.”

Your face immediately heated up in flames. He had always been the one to do that to you, with his hands, and pressed right up close to you. Somehow, having him sit across from you on the armchair and watching you from a distance was even more intimate.

He was waiting, though, so you did as he said. You already felt exposed under his greedy gaze, mesmerized by his beauty and the way the flames flickered off the sharp line of his jaw, the peak of his cheekbone. This dark angel was toying with you, teasing you, and you just wanted him to come over here and touch you. But he remained in that seat, head cocked as he looked you up and down.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded softly, cruelly. You had downcast your eyes, afraid to look at him without losing your confidence. The low tone of his voice left no room for debate, so you did as he said.

Your stomach churned, heart fluttering as he leveled his gaze at you. He was studying every inch of your lewd pose, smug with himself. He wasn’t even even near you, but he had all the control, and he knew it.

“Now let me see that pretty pussy.”

Your breathing stopped. His voice is quiet, yet commanding all the same, and you forgot how dirty his mouth could be. It shocked you more than anything, which is why you hesitated.

“What, are you getting shy on me? That’s not what it seemed like in the kitchen,” he mused. “You wanted me to see you. Now, let me see you.”

The words rang out in the air, causing heat to build up in your core and leak out onto your underwear. Swallowing your slight embarrassment, you hooked your finger around the front of your panties and pulled them to the side, exposing yourself to him.

Anakin’s gaze darkened, and he sat up. He rested his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth in his hands as he appreciated the view. You squirmed under his gaze, waiting for him to tell you what to do next as you felt cold air hit your glistening folds.

“Look at you,” he purred. “Already soaking wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

You shrank away from his eyes, not having anything to say to defend yourself. The fire crackled but you shivered, his shadow looming over you, and you just wanted his warmth pressed against you, his hands on you, pulling that pleasure from the depths of your body. He knew how to do it just right, and you’d never been able to make yourself feel as good as he does. And now he’s right here, but he’s holding himself away from you. Shifting your hips in desperation, you whined and pulled at your panties, rubbing some friction against your throbbing clit.

“Stop. Don’t touch yourself,” Anakin ordered. His eyes were still lidded, voice sharp. You let go of your panties and dropped your hands to the side, holding yourself up on your elbows. Your legs were still splayed open, the sight of your panties soaking through put on display before Anakin.

“Please, Anakin,” you shifted your hips again, hoping it would provide some relief but finding none. “I need you.”

Anakin tsked at this but stood to his full, domineering height. You craned your neck to watch him as he stood over you, capturing your chin between his metal fingers and forcing you to look him in the eye, the other fitting itself on the soft flesh of your thigh. You keened into the soft touch, nerves lighting off like fireworks.

“You need me?” He taunted, blue eyes digging into yours. “Or does your greedy little cunt need me?”

You gasped at his words. Never had he called you something degrading before, like greedy. You’re pretty sure you’ve never heard the word “cunt” leave his mouth before either, but it spilled from his lips like red wine, smooth and dark. Anakin had always been so soft with you, so loving, and his statement shocked you.

“Hm?” He goaded. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

He shifted his hands up your thigh, sneaking over your pelvis and landing on your mound. He let his thumb graze over your clit, unmoving.

Sparks erupted behind your eyes, and you leaned into his touch. An invisible force held your hips to the bed, stopping you from chasing your own pleasure as he continued with his words.

“Do you want me to fuck you open slowly on my cock? You want me to fill your tight little pussy until you can’t take anymore?”

The weight of his thumb on your clit was distracting. It throbbed under his touch with every measured, vulgar word, and his mouth twitched as he felt it. “I think I just got my answer.”

At this, he got on his knees before you. He lowered his mouth to trace his lips against the inside of your thighs, and you squirmed between the tickling sensation and the need to have his mouth on you. He gripped your hips in his strong hold, hard, mumbling into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “You can’t seem to sit still today....” he sucked a bruising kiss into your thigh, and when you roll your hips into the feeling, he looked at you sharply.

“Behave.”

You flinched at his tone. It was deep, threatening, and pulsing with irritation. Was he angry at you? Your eyes stung, shrinking away from his narrowed gaze again, wandering if you did something to make him unhappy with you.

He lowered his head back to your thighs, purposefully skipping over the part that was throbbing for him, dripping for him. You held your breath, desperately trying to hold yourself back from moving or even making a sound, too afraid that you would anger him further. But his thumb pressed a little harder into your clit, and you fell back against the mattress, whimpering frustratedly.

To your relief, he didn’t get mad at you. Instead he hooked his finger around your underwear, similar to how you did earlier so he could gage your response to his actions. The low hum he let out was pleased. “Such a pretty little pussy... dripping wet... is that all for me?”

He was still toying with you, still teasing, and at this point it was getting painful. You would do anything to have his fingers on you, mouth on you, anything in you. So you nodded, and you told him it was all for him, everything was for him. He licked a single line up your slit, the tip of his tongue just barely grazing you. The sensation sent fully body shivers across your skin, and you melted into the bed, ready to lose yourself in the pleasure. He covered you again with the now drenched material.

Did you say something wrong?

“Show me how much you want me then.”

You were shaking as he released his hold on you, head fuzzy with arousal, cheeks flushed with confusion. What game was he playing?

You swallow your nerves and stand from the bed, feeling so small even as you stood over him. He was kneeling, looking up at you under dark lids, daring you to do something. He was giving you some control, so you decided you’d try to get your sweet Ani back, to soften the energy in the room so he could be happy and playful like he usually was.

He sized you up quizzically as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand curling into his hair like before. You tilted his head up so you could lean down and plant a gentle kiss to his forehead, hugging his face into your chest.

Your body shook as he laughed, dark and mocking underneath you. You pulled back to look at him. “Anakin?”

“If you want me to fuck you, sweetheart, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

That’s it.

You just wanted to get fucked, and he just wanted to tease you. If he wanted you to come to him, then fine. So be it.

Anger bloomed from the pit of your stomach and you pushed at his chest to get him onto the bed. He did so, at his own leisurely pace, pissing you off further with the smug smirk still on his face. You kissed it off of him, biting his lip in punishment and yanking his hair a little too hard in your fist. He groaned like he liked it, so release him and trail you kisses downward, biting and marking up his body until you get to his pants. You pulled back the waistband and revealed him to you, taking him in your grasp. Any normal man would be frightened of an angry girl with his dick in her hands, so you looked up at him, trying to see if he had been humbled by your anger yet. He was staring back at you, unimpressed.

You waste no time taking him into your mouth, sucking hard, maybe a little too hard. He sighed and leaned back, enjoying it far too much. You tried to convey your annoyance with the punishing pace you set on his cock, sliding up and down with your mouth and hand. You grasped onto his thigh for stability, feeling the remnants of your saliva drip onto it as you gave him the sloppiest, dirtiest blowjob you’ve ever done. Halfway through, when you realize you’ve gotten little to no reaction, you peer up and see that he’s on his datapad.

You pumped him up and down in your fist, gathering your breath as you studied him. Does it not feel good? Are you not doing a good enough job? He’s hard, so you must be doing something right. But it was like he didn’t even notice what you were doing anymore, or if he did, he didn’t care. You paused with your hand on the base of his cock, squeezing.

“Why’d you stop?” Anakin didnt’t even look up from his datapad.

“Am… am I doing good?”

“Of course you are,” Anakin finally shifted his eyes to you, bringing a hand down to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. “Now finish the job.”

With this, he removed his hand and his gaze, going back to the data pad. Fueled by anger again, and a determination to make him react, you took him into your mouth harder, faster, sloppier, wetter. He didn’t even twitch, didn’t even moan or bury his hands in your hair or tell you how good it felt like he normally does.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked extra hard, tongue probing into the skin there and swirling in a circle, over and over. There. He gave an appreciative hum. You thought you’ve finally got him where you wanted when he says,

“That the best you can do?”

You whined around him frustratedly, just wanting him to feel something, wanting him to feel good, wanting him to feel that way because of you. But he was bored, you could tell by the way he didn’t even spare you a second glance as you took him all the way into the back of your throat, holding him there for longer than you ever have. You were trying your best for him, and usually he’d be writhing and moaning beneath you, but now...

He laughed, pulling you off of him with both hands to halt your frenzied movements.

“Anakin,” your eyes shone with confused tears.

“Shhh, baby, none of that,” his voice was sweet again, and he stroked the skin of your cheek as he brought your face to his for a gentle kiss. “Come, sit on my lap.”

You were giving up on trying to figure him out. One minute he was so sweet, the next he was uncharacteristically callous. Your eyes burned in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve failed him as you crawled onto his lap. He positioned you on his thighs, keeping yours spread with his. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, locking you to his hard chest as the other snuck down your body, touching you over your panties.

“Is this what you wanted?” goosebumps erupted all over your body as you felt his lips ghost over your ear. “You wanted me to make you feel good?”

He rubbed gentle circles into your clit with his fingers, allowing you to shift your hips in time with it. For a moment, you forgot about your problems and lost yourself in the way he was rubbing you. You moaned as he played with your clit, more slick gushing out and further drenching your panties.

“Even though you couldn’t make me feel good?”

Your breath caught in your throat, embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. You were ashamed, accepting this pleasure from him when you gave him nothing in return.

“I can try again,” you offered, hips halting. You didn’t want anything else from him until you could give it back, but he slipped his hands beneath your underwear and touched you directly, rubbing you at a fast pace. Your head fell back against his shoulders, legs opening wider on their own accord as your orgasm built up in time with his hand. You couldn’t help but accept the pleasure, forced to feel it as he held you in his iron grasp.

“Anakin.. Anakin please,” you begged. “Let me make you feel good, too.”

“Baby, you already tried,” he nippd at your ear, voice cruel.

“I can try harder, Ani— please!” Your voice came out in a shout as your orgasm approached. Before you could finish, he stopped rubbing and kept his fingers on your clit, pressing down, feeling you throb beneath him.

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs. Your panties were uncomfortably wet, but your arms were trapped under his and you couldn’t reach down to remove them. He seemed to read your mind.

“Let’s get these off you now, hm? You’re soaking through them, I can feel it on my leg.”

Of course, he ignores your pleas and shifted the focus to drag your panties down your leg. He was right— you’ve made a mess of his leg, but now that you’re sitting directly on him, it’s even worse. He parted your folds with his hand, middle finger dragging up and down your slit, collecting the glistening fluid. A little hint of satisfaction soothed your worries as you felt his cock twitch beneath you at the sight.

“You always knew how to take my fingers so well,” he whispered in your ear, pushing his finger into you as he does so. You accepted him readily, walls fluttering around his finger as it relieved some of the ache. You wanted to come, but you couldn’t— not without feeling guilty, for neglecting his needs. How could you be so selfish and take all the pleasure for yourself?

“Anakin,” you whined again, trying to get his attention. You purposefully shifted your hips in a way that would rub against him, but only succeeded in pushing his finger deeper into you. “Anakin please, let me… speak… hmng… I can’t focus…”

“Speak,” he kissed your neck, pushing another finger into you despite your warnings. “I’m listening.”

“I want to make you feel good,” you moaned. His fingers stroked into you slow, deep, and perfect. You gushed around his digits, the sound of it absolutely sinful. He kissed the back of your neck as his thumb began to rub your clit again, gently because he knew how close you were to cumming. “Anakin, please.”

“I know, baby.”

No, he didn’t. He wasn’t getting it. Your hands dug into his thighs, wanting him to stop, wanting him to continue—

“I love you. Please, let me—“

“Enough.”

You gasped, bones turning to putty in his hands. He kept sliding his fingers into you, thumb grazing your clit, but you were so ashamed. He just yelled at you, he’s never done that before. And now you didn’t know how to act, how to feel.

“Aw, baby, did I scare you?” He taunted, curling his fingers into you. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

The sting of his words brought tears to your eyes, but it was battled by your pleasured haze, vision spotting and feeling honing down to the push and pull of his fingers. There were too many emotions swirling inside you that you didn’t know what to say anymore. All you knew was that you were close to cumming again, you have been for a while, but you weren’t sure if you should accept it.

Your walls pulsed around him and he pulled his touch away, denying you of the orgasm as he spread the slick down your thigh. He reached for his dick, gliding it up and down your folds, covering it in your arousal. He was hot and wet and stiff against you, and you bore down, wanting him inside you. For once, he gave you what you wanted, and you both moaned as he began to sink into you.

The stretch was immediate, and you cried out as you took him inch by inch. He was so thick and the angle was so deep that he had to lift you up and bring you back down multiple times, opening you up gradually until he was fully buried inside you.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he praised, kissing up your neck, along your cheek. He twisted a hand into your hair, tugging it back so he could suck at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your walls clenched around him at the pleasurable sensation, punching an unexpected moan from him.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, sounding like your Ani again for just a moment.

Your chest swelled with pride. Finally, you were making him feel good. You clenched around him again, shifting your hips, searching for another reaction.

“Y/n, shit—“

“I know what your problem is,” you chanced, realizing you had the upper hand for now. “You’re still— fuck— you’re still mad about the Council.”

Anakin glared, thrusting into you harder.

“That’s why you’re— hnng— that’s why you’re hate-fucking me.”

“I’m not hate-fucking you.”

“This certainly isn’t love-fucking.”

“Would you just shut up and take my cock already?”

He plunged into you hard and deep, stretching you open so good that you momentarily lost your train of thought. Did he just yell at you again?

“This isn’t— this isn’t fair,” you moaned, loving the feel of his length scraping against your walls . “You don’t get to boss me around like this.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows at you, fist tightening into your hair so that you couldn’t look away. “That’s not what it seemed like a few moments ago.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you slammed down onto his cock, anger winning out against everything else. You had one goal in mind now— if you could make him cum before you, it would even out the playing field.

He caught on to what you were planning immediately, flipping you over so he was fully in control. He grasped your hips, lifting them off the bed so he could drill into you at an angle, hitting the spot that had you arching off the bed and calling his name in a moment of weakness. Your pleasure heightened as he rolled his pelvis against yours, your clit rubbing against him.

“Fuck you,” you moaned, clawing at the bedsheets.

“Currently doing that,” he gasped.

Oh, he was so going to get it.

You reached up, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him down to your level. He was stronger than you and could have resisted, but he gave in, thinking you were about to cum and just needed him close. He wasn’t entirely wrong— with each roll of his hips, his length probed deep inside you, causing your vision to white out. You could barely keep track of your thoughts as you squirmed beneath him. He held you down, completely negating your ability to try and flip him over.

What had you been thinking? You had just been trying to get the high ground, but now you were so close— so close— to cumming. Think of something gross. Wet socks? Burnt cookies? Jar-Jar?

Nothing seemed to be working. Soon, you didn’t want it to work. You cried out with each thrust of his hips, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. Your pussy drooled around his cock, slick making a mess of both of your thighs. The slide of him was so hot, so wet, so good—

“Stop!”

You couldn’t think of any other way. Anakin immediately stopped his thrusts, pulling back to study your face in a panic.

“What? What happened? Are you okay?”

You bit your lip hard, heart pounding and walls pulsing around his cock from your denied orgasm. You squeezed your eyes closed, waiting for the heat to dissipate from your stomach before you pushed yourself to a sitting position.

He gave you room to do so, the worry still clear in his eyes.

“I’m completely fine,” you kissed his cheek, laughing deviously. “I just wanted to be on top.”

Anakin frowned at you, but switched positions anyway. “That’s not funny. I thought I hurt you.”

“So you do care.”

“Of course I care,” he grabbed the finger that you had been jabbing into his chest, kissing your palm before wrapping it around his neck. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“You yelled at me,” you lifted yourself off his lap slowly, relishing in the drag of his of cock inside you. You sunk down again, shivering at the sensation.

“I didn’t know you were that sensitive.”

“Well… when it’s you…” you moaned suddenly, his dick pulsing into you at a delicious angle. “I just don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“Then you should behave better next time,” he nipped the words into your collarbone, almost purring again.

“See, that’s not fair—“

“Do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” His gaze was firm, completely serious. Your knees weakened around his waist at the tone, wandering why you found that so damn attractive. He tilted his head at you when you didn’t answer. “Is that a yes?”

“Anakin—“ your cries took you by surprise as he slid his hands down to your ass, clutching your flesh in each hand and spreading you open so he could fuck up into you, hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders, body bouncing as he bore into your aching hole.

There was no way you were going to last now, not with the way he was making you feel. You had held your orgasm back for so long, and while it would have been nice to make Anakin cum before you, to give him a taste of his own medicine, you were completely at his mercy.

“Cum for me, and then we’ll talk,” he appeased, voice dark. Why was that hot? Warmth blossomed in your stomach and you listened to his ragged breathing in your ear, body tingling, pussy tightening around him. He turned your face to him with a hand in your hair, holding you close as filthy words spilled from his mouth.

“Take my cock, baby. That’s it, fuck me, come on,” he chanted against your lips. Always so demanding. You couldn’t hold back your moans as he plunged into you over and over, right into that one spot, the heat in your belly expanding until it took over each of your senses. He fucked you at a rapid pace, hips slamming into yours, fingers bruising your ass. Your walls quivered around him, the ball in your stomach snapping. Suddenly, you were coming all over him, pussy throbbing as he massaged his dick into you in wave-like motions, working you through it.

“Does that feel good?” He teased, lips tracing softly over your cheek, soothing hands rubbing your shaking thighs. He was being sweet again— another 360 change in demeanor.

You responded with broken whimpers, muscles twitching as you rode out your high. When he finally stopped, you sucked in a deep breath, shivering from the aftershocks.

“Mmm, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” He planted soft kisses under your ear, down your neck, and over your shoulder. Now he was back to taunting you, his words cruel, but voice so sweet. “Your sweet little pussy just came all over my cock. So pretty. You wanted it so bad, didn’t you? Even though you don’t want to admit it?”

He was like a snake-charmer, hypnotizing you with every slow, filthy word. You knew what he was doing, but at the same time, you couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to it. Every syllable had you melting into his lap, his hands rubbing the flesh of your hips softly.

“Are you blushing again?” He dragged his cock out of you, and you whimpered at the sensation of it against your overstimulated walls. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, now. Not after what we just did.”

“I’m not shy—“ Force, you couldn’t focus when he looked at you like that, when he purred in your ear like that.

“No?” He pushed back into you. “Then look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, eyelashes sticking together with moisture. His full lips pulled into a smirk, dewy skin glowing in the firelight.

“Does this pretty little pussy want to cum on my cock again?” He pulled your hips flush against his, so deep, so thick inside of you. You mewled, blood heating up in your veins.

“Please,” you gave in, allowing him to massage his cock into your walls.

“Please, what?”

You would get him back for this later. For now, the hot slide of his cock inside of you was too good, too overwhelming.

“Please, make me cum,” you didn’t think your cheeks could get any redder, his eyes probing into yours as you said this. Never in a million years did he ever expect his shy little baby to say something so filthy. He immediately smirked, pressing a pleased kiss to your lips.

“Good girl.”

Your skin broke out into a hot sweat, hole pulsing around him as he began to rock back into you. His strokes were slower, deeper, pulling ecstasy from the depth of your bones. He kneaded your flesh between his fingers as he rolled his hips into you. You fell forward, moans being dragged out of your sore throat, watching his cock dissapear inside of you.

His thighs glistened with your juices, the sound of him sinking into your leaking hole humiliatingly sinful. He noticed you watching and brought a hand down, toying with your clit. He moaned into your ear as he did so, the drag of his cock becoming difficult as you squeezed around him.

This time, your orgasm washed over you like a warm blanket, causing you to arch your body into his. You trembled as the waves of pleasure sapped you of energy, rocking your hips in time with Anakin as he spilled his warmth inside of you. The sounds of him cumming sparked a flame in your heart— you wished he had indulged you in his pleasure earlier. Now, all it left you with was a desire to hear him lose it over and over again, and you realized you had your plans all set for the rest of the night.

Anakin stroked his hand up and down your back, lips attaching to your neck as you came down from your highs. He positioned the two of you so that you were laying down, you on his chest, completely limp apart from the occasional post-orgasm shivers. He gave you time to recover before pulling out of you, kissing your quiet whimpers away as he tugged his length out of your aching hole.

“I win,” he mumbled against your lips.

#anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x fem reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin fic #anakin skywalker fic #star wars prequels smut #dom anakin #kinky anakin

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Loss

Summary: Your husband had to learn a lesson. That he would have to sacrifice your marriage by losing a bet to August Walker seemed something he just accepted. That he would lose you to August in that process wasn’t something he expected.

Pairing: August Walker x F!Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: gonna tag this as dub con to be safe, also: soft August (yeah just as surprising to me as it is to you) smut (Oral; female receiving, protected sex), mentions of a miscarriage, infedelity

A/N: It’s been a hot minute. I’ve had this idea a while ago, but only now had the motivation to finish it. Hope you enjoy this wiiiiiild August journey

Masterlist

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Looking at your husband you tried to make sense of the words that had just come out of his mouth. You had been thinking about divorcing him before. He just wasn’t the man you had fallen in love with all these years ago. You didn’t care for luxury. You wanted the man back that you fell in love with. The man who stayed up with you at night, watching the stars, reading to you until you fell asleep.

The man was long gone.

He changed once you had moved to the states. His suits got more and more expensive and the time he spends with you got less and less. His answer for everything seemed to be to throw money at it. You had a big collection of jewelry, shoes, art, you name it. But all you wanted was him. At least you used to until you found out just exactly how he made his money.

Selling weapons on the black market.

“You lost a bet. And you bet me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m not your whore, I’m your wife.” you shook your head.

“Look I need you to do this one thing for me and then I’ll give you everything you want, honey.” He said exhausted, not looking you in the eye. You sucked your bottom lip in, your body shaking with rage.

“You want me to fuck a man I’ve never met before? And you’re okay with it? Just like that?” You fought back the tears threatening to escape. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll make it up to you. Everything you want.” He said quietly. He would get you anything you wanted? Fine.

“Everything I want?” you asked to be sure.

“Everything.” he nodded, finally looking at you. Almost 15 years ago you had looked into his green eyes for the first time. You always thought these would be the eyes of the man you would grow old with. But now all you felt was a disappointment.

“Fine. One night with me for this Mr. Walker for everything I want from you.”

This was really happening. It was a week later, you were sitting in your bedroom, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your husband had instructed you to wear the sexiest lingerie you owned. Shaking your head you heard a knock at the door.

“You ready?” your husband asked. You looked at him in the mirror. Even now he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Don’t you feel the tiniest bit of guilt at whoring out your wife to some shady men you made business with?” you asked.

“I’m sorry…” he said quietly. Closing your eyes you got up from your seat, pulling the long silk robe you were wearing closer around your body. You wouldn’t be sleeping with the man. Not in a million years. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t gonna make your husband feel bad about it.

Stopping next to him you patted his chest.

“Maybe he knows how to make me cum,” you whispered against his ear before you walked out into the living room.

You always loved this house. It reminded you of your parent’s home. It was warm and you had spent so much time decorating it. Now, sitting on the sofa as your beloved husband welcomed the man he had practically sold you to, all you felt was cold. This hasn’t been a home for a long time.

Nursing the glass of champagne you ignored your surroundings, your mind trying to figure out when the last time was your husband had actually talked to you. When did it all go downhill? Even in the beginning when he started working with these shady people he had always made sure you were happy. You wanted to have a baby. That you were pregnant at some point but lost the child before the third month was something the two of you had never talked about after it happened. Only you and your therapist knew how much you mourned the loss of your unborn child.

“Mr. Walker, this is my wife,” you heard your husband say. Well... Showtime you joked to yourself, emptying the glass of champagne before you turned your head to look at the man who had entered the room.

“I know,” the man said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You knew him. He had been over a few times. You had never spoken to him, but sometimes it was like you could feel his eyes on you. He was tall, dark curls framing his face, but it was his eyes, that captured you. The light blue a contrast to the darkness that seemed to surround him. You didn’t get why he was wearing a mustache but somehow it seemed right.

“Mr. Walker,” you nodded and he held out his hand that you took, helping you up before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. He released your hand, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as you swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat.

“Pleasure,” he winked and you breathed in deep. His eyes didn’t leave your face and you had almost forgotten that you weren’t alone when your husband coughed behind you.

“Scotch, Mr. Walker?” he asked. August shook his head.

“No. I’m not here to drink.”

“Did you forget your whored me out already?” you asked, looking at your husband before you walked past both of the men towards your bedroom.

“Honey…” he warned. You shrugged.

“Come on, Mr. Walker. I think we wasted enough time already.” You said over your shoulder, not waiting as you made your way down the hallway.

You left the door open, your confidence shrinking the further you went into the bedroom. Sucking your bottom lip in you knew that you wouldn’t stand a chance if August Walker would want to have sex with you. A shiver ran over your body and you jumped as the door clicked close behind you.

Slowly you turned around, looking at the man that leaned at the door. You were about to open your mouth to ask him how on earth he would think about even suggesting something like this when he sighed.

“I’m not here to fuck you. I’m merely here so that your husband learns his lesson.” He pushed himself from the door walking to the sofa that was in front of the big window overlooking the ocean. You watched him, as he sat down, taking out his phone, and began to read.

Unsure on how to proceed you sat down on your bed with a loud sigh. He merely looked up at you, a small smile on his lips before he focused back on his phone. That gave you time to look at him.

You had noticed him before when he came by, always wearing the most expensive suits. He always seemed calm, spoke quietly which made him somehow more dangerous.

“Is this something you do often?” you asked, hugging your knees, making sure you were covered by the robe you were wearing. He looked up, one eyebrow raised.

“Teaching people lessons?” You added sarcastically.

“Only if they think they can make a fool out of me. Usually, my lesson involves a more… physical approach, but I didn’t want you to suffer through his recovery.” He set his phone down on the sofa next to him.

“Maybe you should pick something he loves more than me to teach a lesson then. Like his scotch.” You rolled your eyes.

“He loves you.” Mr. Walker said. You chuckled.

“Yeah. Clearly he does. Mr. Walker would you let any other man lay a hand on the woman you love?” you asked. He looked at you and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t name. Longing? Desperation?

“I would kill the man who even dared to suggest such thing.” He said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You ignored the shiver that ran down your back. “And please call me August.”

“Well then, August,” you had to smile a little. “How does this work? How long am I to be at your pretend mercy?”

“I do like to take my time when I’m with a beautiful woman. So make yourself comfortable.” He winked and you rolled your eyes.

“Pretty full of yourself, huh?”

“I never had any complaints,” he shrugged.

“Ever thought people had been too scared to actually complain?” You tried to hide your smile, as August chuckled, shaking his head before he got up and slowly took off his suit jacket.

“I’d like to think the women I fuck are too satisfied to complain.” He folded the jacket, letting it hang over the sofa.

“Well if that’s the case I envy these women…” you whispered. He still stood there, in all his wide-shouldered glory, looking at you. Slowly you sat yourself up, crossing your legs as you lean with your hands back on the bed, supporting your upper body.

“You have a loving husband, I’m sure there’s….”

“What is it that you do August? Why did my husband get involved with you? Why… Why is everything more important to him than I am?” You shook your head. “Nevermind, don’t answer that.” You let yourself fall back on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

Minutes went by before he spoke again.

“Do you still love him?” August asked. You turned your head, seeing him still standing next to the sofa.

“I am in love with the man he once was. But the man out there? The man who asked his wife to sleep with a man because he lost a bet in some gambling? How could I love him?”

“He does love you.”

“He certainly has a funny way of showing it.” You grumbled.

“What do you miss most? About him?” August asked. You turned to your side, not caring if your robe wasn’t covering you anymore. Somehow you felt safer with August, only knowing him for an hour or so, than with the man you were married to.

“The way he used to look at me. How we could spend all night talking. How we used to not leave the bed all weekend. I miss feeling safe in his arms when we used to dance with him humming a song in the moonlight…” you closed your eyes.

“That’s a lot you miss,” August said quietly. You heard him come closer and you opened your eyes as he knelt in front of you.

“I’ve been lonely for a long time. He may love me, but I don’t think he is still in love with me. And I’m not with him.” You felt his hand on top of yours then.

“Come on.” He pulled you up from the bed and you let him.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Dance with me.”

Slowly you let him guide you to the middle of your bedroom, his hand holding yours until he stopped. Shuddering you breathed out before you looked up at him. His thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand and like you had done it a million times before your other hand curled in the back of his neck. He was so close. He closed his eyes at your touch, breathing in deep, before his other hand came to rest on your back, slowly pushing you against him, before he began to lead you into a slow dance.

His eyes opened just when you decided to rest your head on his shoulder. Your fingers played with the hair in his neck and you may have imagined it, but you felt him shiver. You breathed him in, feeling a little dizzy feeling someone so close again. He kissed the top of your head.

“I wanted you since the first time I saw you almost a year ago,” he whispered. “You didn’t even know I was there when you were outside in the garden. I think you were cutting some flowers, wearing a blue summer dress. I watched you instead of listening to your husband who was trying to sell me god knows what.” You closed your eyes, letting him talk.

“He doesn’t deserve you. Fuck I don’t think I deserve you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and when he lost everything he had with him at the poker table I did the first thing that popped into my mind.”

You breathed in deep. Slowly his hand on your back had wandered lower, stopping just above the curve of your ass. You shivered.

“He told me I can get everything I want when I do this, you, for him.” You said quietly. “So to get what I want you to have to take what you want.” You looked up at him, seeing the storm in his eyes.

“How is the man that supposed to love me learn his lesson if he doesn’t suffer?”

“Don’t…” he growled.

“He thinks you’re fucking me, August,” you got on your tiptoes, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t you think he should hear how you fuck me too?” He released a breath, his hand finally running down, grabbing your ass as he pulled you even closer.

“I won’t be leaving his house without you afterward,” he said, making sure to look into your eyes.

“That’s good, cause I don’t want to stay here with him afterward.”

He closed his eyes, his hand releasing yours after he gently lay it down on his shoulder. He reached for your face, tilting your chin up before opening his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“How long hasn’t he touched you?” August leaned down, kissing your forehead, your temple, your eyes.

“At least a year…” you breathed out, melting against him.

“Fuck…” he cursed before his lips crashed down on yours. His hand caressed your face, pulling you closer as you held on to him. You parted your lips, moaning when his tongue slipped into your mouth. He tasted dark and dangerous and you didn’t want to live without tasting him ever again.

He tugged on the belt holding your robe together, pushing it off your shoulder as your fingers slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned against your lips before his mouth wandered down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders when you finished unbuttoning it your hands pulled his head down to kiss his lips.

“I want you on the bed. Legs spread,” he whispered, his voice deep and you whimpered as you turned away from him, walking over to the bed to lay down. You watched him, as he opened his pants, pushing them down, getting his shoes off in the process. One of your hands ran down your body, slipping in between your legs. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this wet. Rubbing slow circles over your still clothed clit you bit your lip as you watched him come over.

“Show me how wet this pussy is for me,” he demanded hoarsely. You bit your lip as he knelt on the bed in front of you. Pushing your panties to the side you heard him groan.

“Fucking soaked. Touch yourself,” he grabbed your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg as you teased yourself, wanting nothing more than his mouth on you. You cried out, when he playfully bit the inside of your thigh, both of his hands parting your legs wider.

“Make him hear you,” he smirked before his tongue licked through your slit. You threw your head back, your hands grabbing the bedsheet beneath you. He nibbled and sucked, his tongue driving your sheer insane.

“There… Right there…” you grabbed his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth. You felt one of his hands ran up your body as he looked up at you, his lips sucking on your clit. He pushed two of his fingers into your mouth, you sucked hard and almost biting him. He chuckled against you, his fingers leaving your mouth only to bring them down to your pussy as he released your clit.

“You gonna cum for me?” His fingers lazily circled your clit before he slowly pushed them into you. You parted your lips, breathing loudly, trying to maintain eye contact until he angled his fingers.

“Fuck August,” you cried out, surprised by the wave of pleasure that shot through your body.

“There it is…” he grinned. You moaned when he focused on that spot inside of you.

“I need…” you began only to moan loudly when his tongue was back on your clit. Your eyes flew open, your hands grabbing his thick hair.

“I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, moaning loudly when your orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking, your thighs caging August in between your legs. He moaned against you, devouring you like you were his last meal, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm until it became too much and you whimpered, pushing him gently away.

“Fuck me…” you whimpered, trying to normalize your breathing.

“That’s the plan,” he teased, grinning down at you.

“Fuck you,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, that too.”

You shook your head with a smile. He kissed up your body, stopping at your bra.

“Let’s get you naked so I can fuck you.” You sat up, letting him take off your bra. He pushed you down into the mattress, kissing the valley of your boobs as his other hand slowly pushed your panties down.

“I want you inside of me,” you pulled at his hair, earning a moan from him. “And I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Careful what you ask for, princess.”

“I want to feel you every time I sit down in the next days. I won’t break…”

“At least not today,” he winked before he pushed his boxers down. You bit your lip as he stroked his cock. It was bigger than any you had before.

“Condom?” you asked. He nodded, jumping off the bed to get to his pants.

“So you weren’t planning on this happening, huh?” You raised your eyebrow as he walked over, pulling the condom over his cock.

“Wishful thinking.” He slapped your thigh, hard and you whimpered.

“You liked that huh?” He slapped you again. You moaned, turning on the bed to get on your hands and knees.

“Don’t be gentle,” you reminded him, wiggling your ass as you looked at him over your shoulder. His eyes seemed to darken as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you towards him as if you weighed nothing.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he said before he entered you in one hard thrust.

“FUCK!” you cried out loudly.

“Still sure you don’t want me to be gentle?” He asked close to your ear as he bends down, his teeth pulling at your earlobe.

“Do your worst,” you clenched your inner muscles making him curse. He slapped your ass, hard.

“You’re such a bad girl, princess. What am I gonna do with you?” He kissed down your back before he pulled out and entered you again. You didn’t get time to answer when he began to fuck you. Deep and hard, just how you liked it. His fingers would leave bruises on your hips from the way he held you and you would wear these marks with pride.

“Such a tight fucking pussy. I knew you’d be the death of me…” he groaned. You let yourself fall on your elbows, the change of angle making you see stars.

“Shit I want to cum inside of this pussy. Mark you from the inside so every fucking man on this planet knows your mine…” He slapped your ass and you whimpered his name. It never felt like that. Sex never felt that good…

“I’m yours. All yours…” you moaned, your head pressed into the mattress to lower your moans. You felt him pull at your hair.

“No. Let me hear you. Let him hear what he lost when he put his job in front of the woman he loves.” One of his arms pulled your upper body up against his chest, his hand holding one of your boob

s as he fucked into you.

“August…” you cried out.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” He thrust faster, holding you close and pulled at your nipple. Your orgasm took you by surprise, like a tidal wave spreading over your whole body and August fucked you through it following you only moments later, biting into your shoulder, marking you as his.

You stayed there, in his arms, his cock still deep inside of you, the only noise in the room your heavy breathing. He kissed your shoulder softly, his lips wandering up to your neck until you turned your head and he kissed you.

“You really wanna get out of here?” He asked.

“If you’ll have me?”

August was standing next to the two suitcases you had packed that contained only some clothes you would need. You made sure to wear a strapless top so your husband could see the marks August had left on you. Your wedding band and engagement ring lay on your side of the bed.

“Ready?” August asked quietly. He was standing at the door. You nodded, taking one last look before you opened the door. Your husband was sitting across the door at the wall, staring up at you as you stepped out.

“Everything I want?” You said. He nodded with a small relieved smile until August stepped out of the door and you made sure your husband saw that you weren’t wearing your wedding band when you took August’s hand.

You looked down at him, seeing his face fall. Once upon a time you had loved this man. But this was before he had willingly sold you. Before he had neglected you. Before he had ignored you.

“Everything I want,” you squeezed August’s hand as you looked at your husband, seeing him nod slowly. You took one suitcase and August the other, bigger one. You saw your husband’s eyes wander up your body, stopping at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Everything you want,” your husband said with a sad expression.

“Consider your debt paid,” August said, before he squeezed your hand. You looked at him then, his eyes on you and you couldn’t help but smile.

You didn’t know that this would be the beginning of something you had been searching for all your life. A life with a man at your side who would always put you first. And who would let the whole world burn before any other man would have the chance to even think about touching what was his.

#my writing #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #henry cavill #fanfiction #fanfic

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 19}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Well, we promised a chapter today, so we decided to follow through on that. Even if we did post a surprise chapter last night. Oh, well. Enjoy! 🙃✨

Cassian sighed as he opened his eyes.

Another year older, another year wiser.

Well.

Another year older, anyway.

He blinked as he looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:58. Two minutes before his alarm would have gone off.

He hated when that happened, when his mind woke him up just before his alarm went off. There was no time to go back to sleep, it was perfect sleeping time wasted.

It was bullshit.

With a yawn, Cassian swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled to his dresser and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, just in time for his alarm to go off.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, quickly turning it off before flinging open his bedroom door.

It smelled delicious.

He meandered down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Nesta was icing a giant cake.

Her eyes darted to his.

He blinked.

“Get out!” she ordered.

“What the hell are you-.”

“Out!” she ordered, yet again.

Nyx babbled something at the top of his lungs that closely resembled, YEAH!

He did as he was told, blearily blinking as he stumbled back into the living room. He dragged a hand down his face. “Can I at least have some coffee?”

“In a minute!” She called and he heard quick footsteps, followed by the back door opening and closing. It opened again and she said, breathlessly, “Okay. You can come in now.”

Tentatively, Cassian rounded the corner and he found Nesta placing a platter of cinnamon rolls on the counter in place of the—

“Where did the cake go?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Nesta was lifting a cinnamon roll onto each of the plates in front of her, cutting the one for Nyx into tiny bites for him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He blinked again, half-wondering if he’d imagined the decorated monstrosity he’d seen on the counter, but he sniffed, smelling the air again.

It mostly smelled like the sweet and spicy scent of cinnamon, but—

No, that was definitely cake he smelled.

“Right…” he said, pulling forks out of the silverware drawer and setting one next to each plate. “You’re up early.”

“Had a lot to do before renovations start this morning. I’m meeting Helion and the contractor at the restaurant at nine.” She sipped her own coffee, not looking at him. Mixing truth and lies, it seemed, since he knew she was meeting the contractor this morning. As for a lot to do, he knew everything at the restaurant was already taken care of. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early either.”

Cutting into the gooey cinnamon roll, he said, “I gotta be at the bar in an hour. I’m talking with Kallias this morning before my shift starts.”

She set her coffee down and finally looked at him. “You have to work today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, popping the bite of pastry into his mouth. He resisted the urge to moan. “It’s Tuesday. I always work on Tuesdays.”

She hesitated, deciding whether she should speak or not. “But it’s your birthday.”

He couldn’t stop his smirk. He knew there had been a cake.

“And who told you that?” He asked, leaning over to wipe Nyx’s face off. The poor kid had icing all over his face, all the way up into his hair.

“That’s not important,” she said.

“Elain, then,” Cassian went on with a grin.

Nesta pretended like she hadn’t heard him and took a giant bite of her cinnamon roll.

“I’ll take Nyx with me to the bar,” Cassian said. “Viviane texted. She has the stomach flu.”

Nesta cringed. “That sucks. I...wait - you’re taking a baby to a bar?”

Cassian shrugged. “He’ll be fine. I only have to stay until two or so.”

“A baby,” she repeated, blinking. “To a bar.”

“You prefer to take him into a construction zone?” Cassian asked. “One that you’re in charge of? That sounds stressful.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I can ask Elain to watch-.”

“I’m taking him with me and he’ll be fine,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “I promise.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. And he held up both hands. “I promise,” he repeated.

“Fine. But call me if you need to and I’ll come get him,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll be in my office most of the day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around in a construction zone.”

“And I’ll take the carrier and physically wear him all day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around the actual bar.”

Nesta groaned. “Fine. Fine. But take the pack-n-play, his monitor and toys. He can entertain himself well enough.”

“Okay,” Cassian nodded, finishing off his cinnamon roll. He pulled Nyx out of his high chair, who was now playing with and wearing most of his food, rather than eating it, and said, “I’ll give him a bath while you get ready.”

“Okay.” He was nearly in the living room when he heard, “Cass?” He turned and looked back at her, still not completely used to the familiar nickname from her. She was blushing slightly. “Happy birthday.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks,” and turned to head up the stairs.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Any birthday plans?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Kallias chuckled as he observed Cassian, a wiggly baby strapped to his chest, counting the liquor bottles that lined the wall.

“How old are you anyway?” he continued, wiping down the bartop. “Thirty? Thirty-one?”

“You wound me,” Cassian muttered, scribbling a number down on his clipboard, not bothering to tell Kallias just how close to thirty he was getting to.

“I would say we should do shots to celebrate your big day,” Kallias began, taking Nyx’s outstretched hand. “But, I think your little housewife would disapprove.”

Cassian snorted. “If Nesta Archeron ever heard you call her such a thing, you’d lose a very important body part.”

“Not interested in that, thank you very much,” he muttered. “She ever gonna stop in, so I can see this terrifying woman you’ve told me about?”

“About that…” Cassian pulled Nyx out of the carrier and carried him into the back office, setting him down in the play pen. Grabbing the baby monitor, he made his way back into the front room.

Kallias looked up from where he was cutting limes at the bar. “About what?”

He leaned a hip on the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nesta is going to be expanding the restaurant, adding a bar. That’s actually where she is right now, why I’ve got the kiddo with me. Didn’t really want him in a construction site.”

“Hot nanny couldn’t keep him?” Kallias asked, grinning.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No, she’s sick. But, uh-.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be leaving and going over there, managing for her.”

Kallias eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. And I’d like you to come over there with me. Be my assistant manager at the new place.”

Kallias stopped cutting, mid-lime. “You do realize we are two out of five people that work here, right?”

Cassian nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I do. And I also know we can hire more people here.”

Kallias looked back down at his half-cut lime. “Assistant manager, huh?”

“It’s in a great part of town, we’d get amazing tips on top of already being paid more,” Cassian said. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“So I’d be stupid to say no, then?” Kallias asked, continuing to cut his limes.

“Incredibly stupid,” Cassian agreed.

Nyx’s happy babbling came through on the baby monitor.

“I’ll think about it,” Kallias said, at last.

“Think about it, then tell me yes, because I’m not going there without you,” Cassian said.

Kallias snorted. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re going, whether I go or not.”

“And why wouldn’t you come with me?” Cassian asked, facing his friend. He and Kallias had worked together for years, since Kallias came in at twenty-one, during his senior year of college. “You want to be stuck in this dive bar forever? I know you. You’re a creature of habit. If I leave you here, you’ll be here for the next twenty years.”

Kallias didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t true. He just shook his head. “I guess we better start interviewing people, then.”

The day did not go as planned. Cassian had to stay and help out until nearly five-thirty, and by the time Cassian walked in the front door, Nyx was knocked out cold in his car seat. He gently set it down and unbuckled him, carrying him into the kitchen. It smelled divine, like roasting herbs and cooked veggies, even if he couldn’t see anything radiating the delicious smells.

Nesta was also nowhere in sight, so he took Nyx up to his nursery and laid him down, setting the baby monitor back up where it usually sat. He slipped the screen in his back pocket and made his way back downstairs, hurrying out to his truck to get Nyx’s diaper bag and the folded up playpen.

As he was setting it back up in the living room, he heard the sliding glass door open and close and made sure he was making enough noise to alert Nesta of his presence.

“You’re home,” she said, leaning on the doorway. “Nyx asleep?”

“Out like a light,” he said, tossing the few toys he’d brought with him back into the pen. “He had fun though.”

“Good. Dinner is almost done,” she smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” he sighed and took another deep breath in. “It smells amazing.”

Turning, Nesta walked back into the kitchen. “Steak, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and green beans, and homemade rolls.”

He watched as she took the carrots and green beans out of the oven and placed them next to a plate of steak she must have just brought in from the grill.

Cassian’s mouth was damn near watering.

He looked at the spread as she spooned the mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Nesta tensed, then something like nervous laughter sputtered out of her mouth. “Well, I had to cook red meat for you on your birthday.”

“Does that mean you’ll be having yourself a steak, Archeron?” he asked, taking the full plate from her outstretched hands.

She gave him an amused look. “Hell no. You get both. I have a chicken kabob on the grill.”

Cassian licked his lips as he took his plate to the table. “Consider me a lucky man. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, clearing her throat. She piled her plate high with potatoes and veggies before going onto the deck and coming back with a grilled chicken kabob on her plate. She sat across from him. Cassian’s mouth was already full.

“How is it?” Nesta asked, cutting up a carrot before popping it into her mouth.

“Delicious,” Cassian said, mouth full. “So good.”

“If you don’t slow down, you won’t be able to enjoy the flavor,” Nesta said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t listen. Cassian practically inhaled everything on his plate within minutes.

He moaned, stretching back in his chair before running a hand through his hair. “I must say, Nes, you really outdid yourself.”

“Well, it was the least I could do after you worked and were on baby duty all day,” she said, popping a few green beans in her mouth.

They talked about their days as she finished eating. He told her about Kallias’ agreement to move to the restaurant, she told him about the beginning of construction.

They’d kept half the restaurant open, putting up a temporary wall to keep as much noise and dust out as they could, but the sooner the build was done the better. They both agreed on that.

“So, despite your switch with the cinnamon rolls this morning,” Cassian said from where he sat as she rinsed off their plates, “I’m fairly sure I saw a cake when I came downstairs.”

“Really now,” she said, and he saw the small smile on her face.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “And, you know, I like cake.”

“And why, exactly, would I make you a cake?” She crooned, that little smile remaining.

“Because I’m the world's best roommate and uncle, obviously,” he said.

Nesta laughed as she stood. “Yeah, whatever.”

After exiting through the back door, she returned a moment later with a big, homemade cake.

It was exquisite.

Perfectly decorated and topped with vanilla and buttercream frosting, it read Happy birthday, Cassian!

As Nesta placed it on the countertop, Cassian asked, “Nesta, when the hell did you find time to make this?”

She shrugged. “Stayed up later and got up early. Didn’t have to be too early since you decided to sleep in today, but…” Her words trailed off. “I figured it was the least I could do.”

His mouth tightened, emotion he wasn’t expecting hitting him and he cleared his throat. “You gonna sing to me?” He asked, cracking a joke to break the tension that was slowly growing.

Nesta threw her head back and laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Cassian bit back his retort and the monitor in his back pocket went off, crying coming from upstairs.

“I’ll get him,” she said, standing up. “I’m sure he’s hungry. Will you cut up green beans and carrots for him?”

He nodded, the cake forgotten as he did what he was told, and Nesta returned with a bleary-eyed Nyx a few minutes later.

“Hi buddy,” Cassian said, chuckling at Nyx’s hazy expression. He was already sitting at the table with a plate of cut up food.

The second Nyx saw the display, he was whining and reaching for it.

“Slow down, you need to be buckled into your seat first,” Nesta said, shaking her head.

“I can’t blame him,” Cassian said, as Nyx was strapped into his high chair. “I’m starving when I wake up, too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Men.”

The second Nyx’s diapered butt hit the seat, he was stuffing his mouth.

“I guess we should wait for him to eat the cake,” Cassian said, looking longingly at the cake.

Nesta chuckled. “No patience?”

“When it comes to homemade baked goods?” Cassian scoffed. “No.”

She snorted, which had Cassian raising an eyebrow. She looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “That was just…cute.”

Nesta didn’t reply, but he swore she could see her cheeks heating as she turned to put the leftovers from dinner away.

Once Nyx’s plate was cleared, Nesta cut three slices of cake. One was barely a sliver, one was mostly icing and one was damn near a quarter of the cake. She took the one with extra frosting for herself, placing the small one in front of Nyx and the larger one in front of Cassian.

Again, Nyx wasted no time scarfing it down. Cassian didn’t either, helping himself to another, much smaller piece afterwards, but not touching it yet.

“You sure you don’t want to sing to me?” He asked, taking a bite of the cake. “It would complete my day.”

Nyx, an impending sugar crash, was already dozing again. Apparently, his day with Uncle Cassian had well and truly worn him out.

She rolled her eyes and wiped the excess cake off of Nyx’s face. Pulling him out of his high chair, she said, “No, I think I’m good.”

“I’m just saying,” Cassian pushed. “If you wanted to really wish me a happy birthday, a song would do.”

Nesta snorted, taking Nyx in her arms and swaying, back and forth. “You’ve never heard me sing.”

“If your singing is as good as your cooking, it must be amazing,” Cassian promised.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Have I told you that you’re full of shit?”

Cassian pretended to debate it. “Maybe once or twice.”

Nesta chuckled, and said no more about it. “Finish your cake, Nazari. This little monster is ready for bed. I’ll put him down. It’s your birthday.”

It wasn’t that putting Nyx to bed was exhausting. Although sometimes it could be a chore, Cassian nodded and took another bite of his cake as Nesta and Nyx disappeared.

In their absence, Cassian cleared his plate.

The cake was delicious.

He knew Nesta was an amazing cook, but didn’t know that her baking skills were just as good. It was the best cake he had ever eaten. He was even considering getting himself a third piece, but decided against it as she rounded the corner back into the kitchen.

She sighed, falling into her chair. “That may have been record time to get him down. He was practically asleep before I’d even pulled the curtains shut.”

“He had a big day,” Cassian said, eyeing the piece of cake on her plate that she hadn’t even touched. “Taught him how to make a mojito. He’s a pro. Maybe we should hire him on at the bar.”

Shaking her head, Nesta cut into her cake and took a bite. She chuckled. “I’m sure that doesn’t violate any labor laws.”

“Nah, we’re his guardians,” Cassian said, waving a hand. “We can certainly get some free labor out of him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.” She took another bite of cake, and Cassian’s eyes dipped to her mouth. He was quiet for long enough that she asked, “What?”

He hesitated but said, “You’ve got a little—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he leaned forward across the small space between them and swiped the frosting that was on the corner of her lips away with his thumb.

Nesta didn’t move.

She didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop touching her, either.

Cassian’s thumb lingered against her lips, and when she looked up, he was already watching her, quietly.

She opened her mouth to say something.

What? She wasn’t sure.

But, when her lips moved, Cassian’s did, too.

He kissed her, softly, slowly, and Nesta melted right into it.

#snacmc lawki #snacmc collabs #snelbz tacmc collab #life as we know it #lawki #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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palettepainter · 3 years

Text

How the teachers play favourites

We all know Aizawa and All Might have their favourite UA child, Shinsou and Midoryia. And yeah I know Bakugo and Todoroki are also their UA kids but shhh, Midoryia and Shinsou where the first UA kids they adopted.

And you can’t tell me Aizawa and All Might play favourites with them, All makes Deku lunch like..hello?? Aizawa gave Shinsou his capture weapon, HELLO??

So here are some dumb headcannons for how the other teachers play favourites to their UA kids

Ectoplasm and his UA kid Jiro:

-When he gives back marked tests he’ll sometimes write small encouraging notes for his students to read, he does this to some students when he feels they need a pick up but he always leaves a positive one on Jiro’s

-During lessons where students are allowed to study in the lesson Ectoplasm lets them listen to music on their phones, everyone thought he would say no so everyone - mostly Kaminari and Mineta - peer pressured Jiro to ask. To no ones shock except Jiro’s Ectoplasm replied with a calm “Sure, but only if you use your headphones”

-Jiro talks about new songs that have been released and Ectoplasm will listen to her geek out about music

-Sometimes Jiro will tell Ectoplasm what her and the rest of the band (herself, Kaminari, Momo, Tokoyami and Bakugo) have been doing and if they’re working on any new songs in-between their studies. Jiro jokes that Ectoplasm is their biggest fan but Ecto is genuinely supportive of their band and admires their creativity

-Jiro once entered maths class and said “Hey miter Ecto, what’s shakin’ bacon?” and while the whole class was stood there in silence thinking Ectoplasm wouldn’t reply he said “Not much double dutch” and then Jiro went to her desk as thought nothing out of the ordinary happened. Kaminari tried to do the same thing to him and Ectoplasm just went “Kaminari your shoe lace is undone-” Jiro was very amused

Powerloader and Hatsume:

-This one started out more like this - Powerloader: Who’s idiot kid is that?....*realises it’s Hatsume* Oh shit- THAT’S MY IDIOT KID-

-Hatsume showed up at the design studio and never left basically, so Powerloader got used to her. He knows Hatsume overworkers herself so he keeps spare energy bars, fruit and bags of crisps in the design studio. He brought a small microwave and kettle for the winter so Hatsume could make hot drinks and food since she insisted on finishing her ‘babies’

-Say’s he doesn’t worry but still insists she goes to recovery girl when she gets a scratch or blows up the studio, sometimes dragging her there himself, ranting all the way about how she’s an idiot. One day Hatsume ended up breaking her leg during a bad explosion and Powerloader very nearly had a heart attack-

He kept a close eye on her while she worked from a wheelchair at her desk

-Makes her wear a god forsaken jumper in the winter when the design studio is freezing, stupid dumb teenager you’ll catch your death of cold

Present Mic and Kaminari:

-This man is shameless with playing favourites

-He greets Kaminari with his signature finger guns and an enthusiastic “AAAYYYY KAMINARI!” Kaminari shoots finger guns back with an “Ayyyyy teach hozit hanging?!” Everyone in class knows Kaminari is a teachers pet despite how Kaminari insists he’s not

-Mic knows Kaminari has a crush on Jiro and Kaminari is an embaressed child who is like “omg msiter Mic STOP-” while Present Mic is coeing and being all like “Aw that’s adorable!”. He always puts Jiro and Kaminari together in group projects, Kaminari shoots him a flustered glare cuz Present Mic knows what he’s doing

-Kaminari teaches him meme/slang language for laughs and everyone in class hates it, Kaminari finds it hilarious. Eventually Mic gets the hang of it but he sucked at using the language correctly at first

-Calls him lil listener and Kaminari calls him loud mouth

Midnight and Yaoyorozu

-Another teacher who is shameless with playing favourites

-Midnight being a teacher does have to enforce the dress code if she sees a student wearing their uniform incorrectly - loose tie, untucked shirt, odd brightly coloured socks, chockes, etc. Midnight really doesn’t care all that much if a student’s socks aren’t the sae colour as their shoes...buuut she’s a teacher so she has to enforce it. Except when it comes to Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu one day had to wear light blue socks into UA as her tights where damaged, and she was worried she’d be called out for not following the dress code. Midnight saw, and turned a blind eye. She was in the middle of telling someone off for not dressing correctly, saw Yaoyorozu with the odd coloured socks and went “-Oh hello Yaoyorozu you have a good day sweetheart! ^^”

-Always complients Yaoyorozu when she comes into class. Oooo did you try a new hair style? Honey it suits you! New note book, such cursive hand writting! Glad to see you got those new pair of shoes, trying a different shoe brand this time? Very stylish!

-Had been tempted to kick Mineta like a beech ball on more then one occasion when he wouldn’t back off from Yaoyorozu

-The kind of teacher to say “I taught her that~” when Yaoyorozu uses one of her combat techniques

-Girl gossip. She tries to guess who Yaoyorozu will get with, meanwhile Momo is just blushing and blabbering because that isn’t very appropriate for history work. Midnight bats a hand is like “Pft I’m the teacher I can gossip in my own lesson”. Puts her with Todoroki during group projects and she, like Mic, 100% knows what she’s doing

Hounddog and Shishida

-Hounddog: I am not soft....*holds up Shishida* EXCEPT FOR MY 1B CHILD WHO IS VERY STRONG AND HE’S GOING TO BE A HERO DON’T @ ME HE’S AMAZING-

-Encourages Shishida to let loose with his beast form, with his rish upbringing Shishida isn’t used to embracing his more wild and uncaring side, having been raised to always be propper and polite when not in combat. Hounddog geuenily puts in effort to be a little less grumbly around Shishida cuz he doesn’t wanna peer pressure him, he’s giving him time

-Keeps a spare cloth so Shishida can clean his glasses off when and if they get dirty from training

-I imagine Shishida having a quirk called beast and having a more posh upbringing prolly has a little bit of anxiety, having to always be polite and propper even with a quirk called Beast. Sometimes he vents to Hounddog about this and he listens, insisting that it’s better Shishida get it off his chest when he apologises for drowning on

-During training Hounddog basically throws him about like a beanie bag at first, Shishida was still a kid and Hounddog had years of experience. The day Shishida finally knocked him down with a hard punch to the side of Hounddog’s face he felt...bad. But Hounddog was beaming! Shishida may have cried a little bit

Snipe and Hagakure (picked hagakure inspired by a suggestion @snipe-enthusiast made a while ago)

- Protective af

-Hagakure screams the innocent dorky girl of 1A, and thought Snipe makes sure none of the girls deal with Mineta’s bull while he’s around he’s especially protective of Hagakure just cuz...well, have you seen the way she acts? She’s innocent, peppy, happy, cheerful, and Snipe does not want that tainted by Mineta’s preverted ways

-After the exam with Hagakure and Shoji Snipe apologized for what happened and so did Hagakure, admitting that she over-reacted.

-Hagakure admits one day to Snipe that she’s worried she won’t make it as a hero cuz her quirk isn’t flashy like her classmates. Snipe reassures her by saying that no one thought he could be a hero when he was little (this headcannon was inspired by @frelmidja and a post this did with Snipe) - guns weren’t exactly considered heroic and he got teased in the beginning when his quirk first activated. He told Hagakure to keep working hard and that she had the potential and the drive to be a hero, Hagakure was very thankful for the reassurance

-Hagakure really wants to see what Snipe’s face is like and constantly asks him if he could take his mask off and show them, Snipe has yet to break and take off his mask but Hagakure is very persistant

Cementoss and Bondo

-Chill babies, they sit and have tea together.

-I imagine Bondo to be the kind of person to accidentally call Cementoss dad, it happened once during one on one training and he got so embarrassed. Cementoss kept telling him it was fine but Bondo left in a hurry after

-Bondo tried to make certian shapes out of his glue one time but ended up getting himself stuck, Cementoss helped him out and reassured a disheartened Bondo that everyone makes mistakes and that he was progressing well

-Being one of the taller boys in 1B he often has to hold back Monoma from going over to 1A when Kendo isn’t around, often tries to diffuse conflict before it gets worse, Cementoss is very proud

-After one on one training the two go to the lunch hall to get a hot drink after cleaning themselves up, Bondo tries to bring a different type of tea sweet each time - something like biscuits or chocolate. Cementoss returns the favour by bringing Bondo manju to have after his training

Thirteen + Gunhead and Uraraka

-Proud mum and dad because I couldn’t decide between the two

-Uraraka researches into the affects of zero gravity and how to better use her power, due to this she’s become a bit of a space nut and enjoys thinks like star gazing. When she was a kid and saw Pro Hro Thirteen on the TV she was ecstatic! Her parents brought her a Pro Hero Thirteen plush on her seventh birthday, Uraraka still has that toy. One day the toy got misplaced in the students washing and got mixed up with the teachers, Thirteen was a bit confused why a plush of her - and a well loved one by how old it looked - ended up in the wash. Uraraka hurridly rushes over to explain when Thirteen comes into the students dorms asking if it belonged to anyone. When Uraraka explained she got it when she was younger cuz she’s a big fan of Thirteen...heart squeeze

-Asked Uraraka if she could teach her the gunhead martial arts move, Uraraka was so honored she got to teach one of her idols a combat move! Through the gunhead martial arts move Thirteen met Gunhead and the two become good friends

-One day when Gunhead is teaching Thirteen the martial arts move with Uraraka to help demonstrate Uraraka wanted to take a picture of them all together. Gunhead was too tall to fit into the picture so he kneeled down to be at the same height as Thirteen and Uraraka (he did bunny ears behind Thirteen’s head and Uraraka thought it was adorable)

-Gunhead pretty much puts two and two together with Uraraka having a crush on Midoryia, so one day when Thirteen mentions in passing conversation how giddy Uraraka gets when she’s around this one green haired kid Gunhead just chuckles behind his hand. Thirteen and Gunhead think it’s very sweet how Uraraka totally has a crush on him (unlike Mic and Midnight thoug they don’t force anything and let Uraraka figure things out on her own)

#MHA #MHA UA #UA Teachers #Teachers #Ectoplasm #Snipe #Midnight #Mic #Present Mic #Thirteen #Gunhead #Students #UA child #headcannons

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

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