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ruh--roh-raggy · 10 months

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This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)

Word count: 8,058

You can find my Masterlist here!

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You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.

“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.

“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.

“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.

“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”

“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.

“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.

When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.

“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.

“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”

“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.

“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”

You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.

“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.

“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.

“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.

“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”

“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.

“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.

“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”

“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.

“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”

“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.

“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.

“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.

“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.

“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.

“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.

“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.

In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.

He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.

“William.” You whimper his name.

“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”

“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.

He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”

“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.

“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.

You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.

“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.

“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.

“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”

“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.

“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.

“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”

You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.

“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.

“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”

“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.

“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.

“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“What’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.

“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.

“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.

“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.

“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.

“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.

“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.

“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.

“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.

“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.

“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.

“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.

“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.

“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.

“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.

“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.

“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.

“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.

“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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part ii of the demon prince shouto au (1.5k)

SUMMARY: You learn just what kind of ancient bond Shouto has invoked to protect you, and come to terms with what that means for your future.

TAGS/WARNINGS: modern supernatural au, aged up characters, demons, bonding bites/bonding fever, fem pronouns + afab reader, demon courting behavior, no nsft stuff in this one but discussion of nsft topics, 18+ mdni please!

"What the hell was that?" you demand, rounding on Shouto.

You think you catch the flash of slitted pupils before the demon prince blinks, the snarl fading from his mouth. He looks down at you, eyes flickering over the torn collar of your shirt, your blood already drying into the frayed edges. There's some at the corner of his mouth, and he runs a thumb over it, swiping it off.

You try very hard not to notice that he presses the pad to his mouth, tongue flickering out to catch the droplets.

"Touya," he says by way of explanation. Like that was at all what you were asking about.

"Obviously that was Touya!" You frown up at him. "I mean the biting, Shouto! What the fuck?"

Shouto's gaze flicks to the bite mark marring the space where your throat meets your shoulder. He blinks slowly, like a cat surveying a roll of toilet paper it's shredded, pleased.

"He wanted to take you in punishment," he says, his fingers lifting to linger over the bite. "But he couldn't take you if you were mine."

"Is that what this is?" you demand. "Your nameplate? 'Property of demon prince number three, do not touch'?"

Like a kid who had to have their name scrawled onto the tags of all their clothing, the cover pages of their books! Un-fucking-believable.

"It is...a bonding bite, yes," Shouto admits as his fingers finally touch it. A hot stinging sensation rises to meet them and you wince.

You do not quite love the sound of that.

"A what?"

"A bonding bite," Shouto repeats, his voice hitching into a strange, almost-purr that you've never heard from him before. His fingers brush the mark gently again this time, and there is some whisper of feeling at the corner of your mind.

"Why are you saying it like that?" you ask, a weird feeling rising in your chest. It shivers through your limbs, leaving you feeling hot and thready and a little bit weak.

You find yourself gripping Shouto's bicep in an effort to stay upright, the feeling under your skin growing even hotter when it dawns on you how large and solid it is under your palm.

Shouto adjusts you against him, and you realize you're still caged in the circle of his arms. The demon prince is so very warm against you, hard all over with pale, lean muscle, and there is a look on his handsome face that you've never seen before.

"We will need to complete the bond," he says, his voice dipping even lower, softer. Those mismatched eyes flicker back to your bite, and his fingers smooth over it again, petting gently. "I will wait until you are ready."

You squint at him, trying to pay attention to the shape of his words through the sudden fog in your brain. "What bond? What completion is there?"

Shouto's eyes darken, and the hand at your back tightens on you just the tiniest bit. "The marriage bond. It will be completed with our coupling."

It's only his grip on you that stops you from meeting the floor when your knees give out from underneath you.

"Marriage bond?" you echo, a thousand feelings flashing through you all at once with the force of a firebomb. "Marriage bond? You just demon married me?"

This time, Shouto does purr. You can very much feel the thrum of his chest under your hand.

"Yes," he says, his thumb smoothing across your back. "It is a little different than human custom—and far more serious. There are points of connection you cannot sever."

You feel like you hear the echo of his words again, in the back of your own mind, and you realize all at once that that wasn't just you hallucinating. You could hear him, in your mind, his voice as soft and low and perfectly clear as if he'd spoken out loud.

Demon married. You had just gotten fucking shotgun wedding demon married with some sort of telepathic connection to the Third Prince of Hell.

It was even more of a fever dream than when you'd learned what Shouto truly was, and even more unbelievable than when he decided to stick around, picking out all your shows on Hulu and eating through your shrimp chips.

He was super weird, but strangely sweet, and toe-curlingly, brain-meltingly, jaw-droppingly handsome. You could not deny you'd enjoyed your time spent with him, these past couple of months. You thought of him as a close friend and a treasured roommate, weirdly enough. But to get married? Just like that? To a literal demon prince born in the fires of hell itself?

"Why...? What could possibly mean that we have to...?" you garble out, still woozy.

Shouto takes this as his cue to hitch you higher in his grip, carrying you over to the couch you'd abandoned when Touya had first stepped through the portal into your living room. He arranges you over him, still pressed chest-to-chest, so that you're half-sprawled on top of him, his expression still that of a pleased tomcat.

"He wanted to take you," Shouto says, the hint of a growl in his normally even, deadpan tone. "But if you are mine he cannot touch you, as it would be equivalent to touching me. It would open up a succession war."

His hands smooth over you, down your back, down the skin of your waist where your sweater has ridden up, his touch sweet but possessive.

You suppress a shiver.

"He wanted me to claim you, I know that much," Shouto continues. "I want to figure out why. But we will need to complete the bonding before I can leave you to talk to Natsuo and Fuyumi."

Complete the bonding. The words clatter around in your brain, their implication clear. The coupling he mentioned.

He wants to—Shouto wants to—with you?

"Shouto, are you sure you want this? I'm sure you really don't have to protect me, like this," you insist, trying to push yourself up off his chest. "We could try thinking of another way—"

It only has the effect of settling you more firmly over his hips, however, and Shouto hisses, his grip on you tightening.

"You have been mine since I decided to stay," Shouto says. "In all but name. Humans require time, and courting, mother says. So I have given you time, and I have been courting."

It suddenly dawns on you what he's been doing with all those horribly cooked meals, the weird trinkets that occasionally pop up around your apartment.

Courting.

Shouto's been courting.

"But you are mine. And you always have been," he says matter-of-factly. Like it's any other fact about the world. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you have always been mine.

Another wave of something hot flashes through you, and you're immediately embarrassed by the way your thighs reflexively clench together around his hips. But Shouto's eyelashes flutter, and his normally sweet two-toned gaze grows even heavier with intent.

"I will wait until you say you are ready," he tells you, his voice thick. "Humans always require time. But the bonding fever is settling in, you will not want to wait too long."

Bonding fever—is that what has you feeling like a drippy, melting puddle of foggy confusion against him?

Dear god you have gotten yourself in way above your head, you don't know how to make sense of things.

But Shouto is so strong and sure against you, so sweetly, angelically beautiful, so luxuriously and sinfully warm. Another wave of heat sweeps through you, and you grip onto him for dear life, suddenly sure of only a few things.

You'll have time to figure this all out when your head is back on straight. But for now, you know Shouto would never hurt you, and you know Shouto wants you. And you, even in the thick of the weirdest situation a human being has ever found themselves in—you want him too.

You let youself grow slack in Shouto's hold, blinking up at him.

"Okay, let's do it," you say, embarrassed when your voice comes out so eager and high. "I don't know what's going on but I know I trust you. So Shouto, let's complete the bond. And we can figure everything out after."

Shouto smiles then, not just the amused, fond little quirk of his mouth he usually does.

It's a blindingly beautiful thing, clever and sweet and so devastatingly handsome. There's just a flash of his sharp canines, longer than any human's, the very teeth he's given you the bonding bite with. He is otherworldly, and for just a moment you can do nothing but gaze up at him, lost in the fever, lost in the look of him, lost in the power of the situation you've found yourself in.

And then he's gathering you up into his arms, stalking towards your bedroom.

The door closes behind you with a final, resounding click.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shouto x you #character: todoroki shouto #third prince of hell au

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r4vn · 3 months

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–LATE BLOSSOM

farleıgh x reader 【1/3】

w.c: 2,183

disclaimers: sensual tension, dilf!farleigh, secretary!reader, beginning of the good stuff be patient please!, oliver is a good person (*gasp*), companyAU!, cutesy, intro, pls dont bored im cooking guys *_*

—synopsis: you went to work expecting a normal day, when suddenly your boss tells you that you have been moved under new management in a new building. you now work right under the man who owns the company, and nearly a year in, he is still full of surprises.

a/n: hello! i was inspired by @girlboybug to write a fic on dilf!farleigh. this is the beginning but i hope you stay with me till the end! please be patient with me my summer has been (fortunately) real busy! ty so much for the support!

– part ²: here.

「divider by @/ cafekitsune」

you sort of always considered that you got a late start in life. never in academics and such, but in adulthood. you had your first kiss way later than everyone else, at 18. you got your driver license late at 20, due to your fear of driving, and you got your first flat around 22 years of age. you were now 26 and living a very, well, uneventful life. you worked at a real estate corporation for the last 3 years of your life. you worked, sometimes went to the gym afterwards, and went home.

everyone you knew were beginning their lives, getting married, having kids, or simply just moving in with their significant others. you lived in a shared apartment, with no kids, and certainly no lover. your last known boyfriend was back when you were 20. the guy was a major narcissist, who nearly liked to kiss himself in the mirror and never really treated you well. it lasted for about 6 months before you were done with him.

you would occasionally go out with your roommate, oliver. whenever the two of you had the evening off. oliver is relatively a nice guy, who had a small wild side. whenever the two of you would go out he would always outdrink you and you never could catch up with his tolerance. you loved challenging him even if you could never beat him. other than hanging out with oliver, work was practically your life.

who you worked for, was a little more interesting. about six months ago, you switched buildings under different management. it was rather very abrupt in the day. you walked into your job and sat down at your desk outside your boss's room before your then boss asked you why you were here. you were confused, before she explained that you were moved under a different building and why. that morning you quickly drove to your new workplace and practically ran through the cubicles. you finally made it to the elevator and press floor 60, the top floor, and ran down the hall in your black mary janes and short pencil skirt.

you cursed to yourself for wearing such a skirt on this day. why did this have to happen to you of all people? a sudden job switch was not on the list this morning. you finally arrived at office room 636 quickly checked the time. you were exactly 5 minutes early.

oh thank god. i can breathe..

you began to slow your breathing. suddenly, you noticed how this particular office door was auburn brown instead of black like all the other doors. your brows narrowed before finding the nameplate on the door.

" farleigh start

saltburn estates, CEO "

you gulped, darting your head to each end of the ironically empty hallway. you've only worked under general managers and supervisors, never a CEO. why were you even hired for this job? your hand grabbed the door and you pushed it open, knocking simultaneously. you wore a mostly confident smile as you finally faced your new boss.

"good morning, sir." you greeted. the male brunette looked up from his laptop and his brows immediately furrowed.

"who're you?" he asked, clearly perplexed.

"i'm– [y/n, l/n] ..your new secretary. i uh ..i was moved from a different building to fill your last one's spot after she left." you explained. farleigh subtly looked you up and down that morning before smiling gently at you.

"well hello [y/n], wonderful to meet you." your cheeks warmed, nodding at him. he seemed charming for sure.

"same to you." you looked down at your shoes, smiling to yourself. you thought he was pretty, gorgeous even. his curls were tight and defined. he had shiniest brown eyes with the longest lashes and god, his cheekbones fit him so well. the lined-up scruffiness that occupied his jaw and chin made him more intimidating. not in a bad way, but more of a mysterious and intriguing one. he wore his black on black suit very well. you dont think you've seen a more handsome man in your life.

"you like croissants?" he suddenly asked. you were taken back at the sudden random question but immediately nodded. he snapped, and pointed a finger gun at you, smiling.

"fantastic, can you grab us some croissants from the cafe block down? doesn't matter what kind you get. use the company card." you nodded and shuffled your way to the door to exit his office. you couldn't help but smile, getting a feeling that this job may be more eventful than your last.

fast forward 9 months, life ironically got just a little brighter after switching job positions. working for farleigh was the same work, essentially but somehow it felt different. you were looking forward to working nearly every shift now. farleigh's various food requests left you on the craziest goose chases around the city. from getting thai food on the west side of london to vietnamese or very specific macarons on the east.

what made these adventures more fun was due to farleigh texting you throughout your walks or drives through the city. he wanted your number to make sure you updated him on your way there, and for your safety. you never texted him outside of work, you were too afraid he would turn you down in a way, and that would be super embarrassing.

"and so you saw two pigeons break dancing on the sidewalk?" farleigh asked with a grin. you laughed, nodding in response to his question. you placed the 16-count box of assorted macarons on mr.start's desk, smiling.

"well, they sure were not playing rock-paper-scissors. so i went with the realistic decision that they were break-dancing." you grinned. a chuckle slipped past farleighs lips, causing your chest to feel warmer.

"right, [y/n]. because pigeons fighting wasn't another good answer." the brunette playfully deadpanned before laughing one last time. he eagerly opened the box of fresh macarons, grabbing a coffee flavored one. he took a bite and immediately closed his eyes in contentment. you made a mental note he always saved most of the coffee macarons for last. whether it be 2 or 6 in the 16-count, he made sure he ate one first and another last.

"talk to me about today, [y/n]." farleigh mentions. you snap out of your mental folder on your boss and open your laptop up for today's schedule.

"you have a 10:30am call with finance, a 12:00pm call with crisis management, a 2:00pm meeting with advertisement, and a 4:00pm team meeting with floor supervisors." farleigh grabs another macaron, raspberry flavored while listening.

"hmm ..let's reschedule my 2:00pm with the advertisement team tomorrow, that way i won't be completely bored with my one meeting tomorrow with janet." he suggested. janet was the chief operating officer, the COO.

"yes sir." you nod and began rescheduling the preferred meeting. he thanked you, eating the rest of the macaron in his hand. your eyes then glanced over, watching as his thumb wiped the corner of his mouth. he licked his lips, causing you to immediately look away. you felt a little flustered in the face, because anything that man did was attractive to you.

"i think for the brunch meeting on friday i move it to monday ..and ...so i can.." you vaguely listened to farleigh ramble. your boss always rambled out of anxiousness yet he did everything so calmly and smoothly. how he did it was so attractive to you. he wasn't a boy with a high position, but a man with a well-deserving job. the way he carried himself simply lured you in. you blinked away your thoughts of your boss and cleared your throat.

"siiir," you start with a singy-songy tone. "you have 10 minutes to speak to finance. floor 59." you add, chuckling as farleigh caught himself rambling. he pursed his lips together trying to both shut up and not smile. he held up his index finger to signal you to give him a a moment and then rigorously typed away at his computer. a moment passed, and the tall male slowly began standing up out of his chair as he typed.

"sir.." you press on, giggling. he playfully hushed you, finally stopped typing and closed the laptop. farleigh grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair to exit.

being mr.start's secretary has allowed you to learn to relax at work. maybe it's because you never knew the word around your last job, but farleigh would catch you stressing out before telling you to take a breather. he wasn't the most extroverted person you knew but the minimal talking you two did, you cherished. you recapped your day in your mind every evening before bed. if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was your work crush. but of course, you'd never admit that even to yourself. the two of you walk out the office together, side by side.

°°°

it was early evening and many employees were wrapping up their shift. it was a rather smooth day of talking business and building contracts.

"its getting late in the day, you sure you want to stay until i leave?" farleigh questioned, groaning as he sat back down in his own personal office chair. he was drained from speaking to several people today, but glad he could enjoy another few macarons now.

"why not? i don't have anything better to do." you shrugged and laughed sheepishly. farleigh had raised a brow, eating a vanilla macaron.

"you don't go out?" you open your mouth to answer farleighs question and close it, thinking of a way to explain your social status. there was nothing to fully elaborate on really but you really didn't want to look like a loner to mr.start.

"well," you began. "i go out with my roommate occasionally, but other than that my schedule consists of work, the gym, and home." farleigh hums in response. he grabbed another coffee macaron and held it up towards you, offering it. you got up and happily accepted the sweet pastry from the mams slender digits.

"i understand, i'd like to say i'm the same way. but this weekend i am going to a business event. it's not the greece or new zealand but atleast im out of this damned building." the two of you share a laugh at his words. his phone digs, and his brown eyes divert to the notification appearing on his phone.

"oh nonono.." you hear your boss mumble, making you perk up.

"whats wrong, sir?" you ask. he sighed loudly and flipped his phone over, rubbing his scruffy jaw with his hand.

"i uh– my babysitter just canceled on me the day of the business event." babysitter? you tilt your head, trying to keep your shock suppressed but slowly fail.

"you have a child?" you ask, clearly bewildered while farleigh looked up at you chuckling. his pearly whites nearly mesmerized you.

"yes, [y/n] i have a child. a son." you swallow thickly at his words. your mind couldn't help but wander. how have you worked for the ceo of one of england's biggest real estate companies for nearly a year now and never knew he had a son?

"i didn't know that. what's his name if i may ask?" you continued. you didn't want to pry, but this was the type of news that needed questions to be asked. it made you wonder if farleigh was married now.

"his name benjamin. i didn't expect you to know that i have a son. i keep my personal life very separate from work. behind the scenes as such." farleigh explains, picking up his phone to respond to the text.

"and your babysitter just canceled?" you repeat, trying to quickly piece together an image of farleigh with a miniature version of him.

"yes, unfortunately. it's so last minute considering it is thursday and the event is saturday." farleigh sets his phone back down and opens just computer again, sighing. a mildly comfortable silence laid over the room, yet you were still tense. your mind gears kept generating the same idea and you kept silently denying it until–

"i could babysit for you." you blurted out. farleighs fingers stopped typing at the keys and he looked your way. he raised a brow with inquisitiveness, scanning your face to see if you were serious. you were.

"you, would babysit my son?" he asks. you cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding.

"w-why not? i mean– i am your secretary, the closest person to you in his building." farleigh tried his damndest to keep his smile to a minimum as he gazed at you and you watched at the corners of his lips twitched. "be at my place at 1:30pm. i'll send my address the morning of."

you finally smiled, nodding before going back to your work on your laptop till the end of your shift. admittedly, you were excited to meet benjamin, and a little more excited to see mr.start's home.

stay tuned! ♡

#farleigh start x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start smut #farleigh x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x you #raven writes #multi part fic

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casualaruanienjoyer · 2 months

Note

What jobs could AOT characters have? 🌻

Ahhhhh I love this one! LET'S GO!

What jobs could AOT characters have?

Eren: He strikes me as someone who changes jobs often. He'd get bored of one activity pretty quickly. To him, his job is just a way to earn some money that he can use to have fun with his friends. Pensions who, am I right?

Mikasa: Kindergarten carer. Her motherly personality is perfect for this, and she loves kids so much. The kids also love being lifted high up in the air so they often use Mikasa as a seesaw.

Armin: Teacher, most likely geography. He's the type to travel the world and teach in different countries. This lifestyle allows him to learn more about local cultures, languages and traditions. It fascinates him!

Annie: Traveling the world with Armin means finding work can be quite tough unless you know the language. When she can, she will work as a bartender. She quite enjoys mixing drinks and listening to people's life stories. She gets fired pretty often for her lack of customer service etiquette though.

Jean: Corporate job. He wanted to be an artist but didn't quite try hard enough, so now he's stuck between grey walls that drive him insane. The pay is good thankfully, so in his spare time he can afford luxurious trips and dinners. Reiner often encourages him to keep working towards his dream of becoming an artist and even offers to pose for Jean to draw.

Reiner: Counsellor. He likes being able to help people get over their troubles just like he did with his own. It's not an easy job but it's very rewarding when successful. Though, sometimes he ends up being the patient while Jean listens to him complain about his life. Or Pieck... or Annie... or...

Connie: Personal trainer. This dude will get you into the exact shape that you want. It's so hard to keep up with him, he's way faster than you. More agile, more flexible. How the hell does he bend like that? One day you try to do the same, but you end up in hospital. Don't worry, Connie has insurance.

Sasha: Camp instructor! Loves organizing all sorts of activities with kids and teens including archery, canoeing, climbing, hiking. She loves being in nature. The only thing she hates about this job is the horror story time around the campfire.

Pieck: Work? Pieck? Nah! If anyone's got some sort of sugar daddy, it would be Pieck. She lives incredibly comfortably for someone who appears to be both single and unemployed. Ah, the joys of being both incredibly beautiful and incredibly devilish.

Falco and Gabi: They are still young, so the best they could do is work over the summer at a theme park. The pay is shit but the location is amazing and they get to ride for free!

Yelena: Lawyer. Like, we all know Yelena. It's better to have her on your side than be against her. And it's even better if she's your lawyer. You could get away with almost anything! Right??

Zeke: Baseball instructor. He trains the local team and is known as one of the best players in the area. Now he uses his time to help kids learn how to play. Legend says Zeke can throw a ball so far away that some are still stuck orbiting around Earth.

Onyankopon: Pilot. Passengers usually take a liking to him. He's so charismatic and friendly. He enjoys making jokes over the radio with the other members of the crew. The amazing views is what he loves the most about his job. And the free snacks.

Levi and Hange: This man's in no shape to do any kind of physical work right now, but instead aids Hange with her job. She owns a private Pathology clinic. How does Levi help, exactly? Well he makes sure she stays hydrated and does her taxes. Basically a secretary of some sorts. He even has a cute nameplate on his desk.

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zaceouiswriting · 11 months

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The scumbag jock boyfriend

Characters: Reggie Mantle x Archie Andrews x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Riverdale

Warnings: Smutty, cheating

Sweat drips down my body as I wait. My patience quickly wears thin as I stand in the same place for over an hour. What is he doing? Did he forget again that we had a date? When I look at my phone, I see I have no reception.

Pissed off because most of my clothes are soaked with sweat, I huff. I angrily stuff the blanket back into the basket along with the food - I had prepared around dawn, which is definitely bad now. I couldn't hide my disappointment. With everything packed, I leave the clearing in the forest near the sweetwater river where we created our little romantic space when we were just kids in love.

I can't believe he completely stood me up this time. He usually arrives a little later since he always has a reminder on his phone. The only thing I can do is to go to his house. So I do exactly that, with my anger rising by the second.

As soon as I get to his house, I knock on the front door, but even after pounding several times, I don't hear any sound inside. I look around. In front of the garage, I could see Reggie's car but not his parents. Even more annoyed, I walk around, trying to find a way in. The front door did not open, so I go over to the windows, but they wouldn't open either, and even the garage door wouldn't move. I knock on the front door again. Involuntarily, my eyes fall on the keyhole. Suddenly, I realized something. I silently curse myself for my forgetfulness. I reach into my pocket and pull out the key Reggie gave me so I can enter whenever I want since his parents aren't home often.

It didn't take more than one step inside before I could hear a sound that couldn't be misinterpreted.

“That asshole!” I mutter angrily.

Following the sounds, I'm confronted with the bedroom door I've sneaked into hundreds of times when I couldn't sleep: a plain white door made of solid wood with a nameplate beneath a drawn football. Even now, it looks adorable. But the noise quickly takes me away from the beautiful memories that Reggie and I have built over the years of our relationship, which was initially secret and later public.

As I pull the door open, I could see Reggie and Archie, of all people, lie on the former's bed, their pants at their ankles, and Archie has his shirt behind his back, showing off his abs. Both have the other's thick, long cock in their hands.

To my annoyance, Reggie takes a moment too long to realize what a mess he's gotten himself into. I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on, in particular, because I know that neither would ever give their ass up for the other or any guy. I quickly realized what it is really about.

When I look over at Reggie, he's already trying to hide with his blanket and even a pillow I usually use for sleeping. He must have seen the anger on my face and is rightly afraid of my reaction.

“Cut the shit, Reggie. We both know, maybe even all three of us know, what that is. What’s wrong with you?” I ask him rhetorically. “Just because I said ‘no’ to a threesome? Do you think this will change my mind?”

Like a fish out of water, Reggie opens his mouth without making a sound. His head is getting redder by the second, probably out of embarrassment. Meanwhile, Archie just sits next to Reggie, showing off his great body and magnificent big member, which is almost as large as Reggie's. He flexes his muscles, making it obvious that he's involved.

"Please, we can just forget about this and-"

Before he can say anything else, I interrupt him by saying, "Archie, go against the headboard, arms over your head."

He moves without question, his eyes glistening with growing lust. I pull my belt out of my pants, walk over to Archie, straddle him, and press his member against my dressed leg, making him moan involuntarily. I tie his hands tightly together. As I look into his eyes, I place my hand on his cheek and my thumb on his bottom lip. I can see his desire for a kiss, and I'm not willing to deny him this wish. I lean in and kiss him softly. But he obviously didn't want any loving touch because he pushed his tongue roughly into my mouth. It's clear that he just wants his desires to be fulfilled. It reminds me of who really is in charge, that he only allows me to take the lead and even sit on top of him. He is much more subtly dominant than Reggie ever was.

Finished kissing Archie, for the moment, I turn to Reggie again, whose cock is still rock hard, but his face is white as a ghost.

“Remember, this is what you’ve always wanted, babe,” I tell him with a big grin. "Now I'm going to drain Archie's balls until all his cum is inside me. All the while, I'll jerk you off a little and maybe give you a blowjob, but you're not allowed to cum!"

“But-“

"No buts!" I interrupt him angrily. "You went behind my back to get what you wanted, so I'm giving you what you wanted, just not how you wanted it."

I once more turn back to Archie and take off my tight shirt, making the lust in his eyes even greater. This will definitely be fun.

[Masterlist]

#x male reader #male reader #riverdale x male reader #smut #reggie mantle x male reader #reggie mantle #archie andrews x male reader #archie andrews #riverdale #reggie mantle x archie andrews

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fayes-fics · 1 year

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A Blessing

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Turns out the father of your favourite pupil, could end up being your favourite adult

Warnings: none really… this is flirtation and fluff. Developing relationship.

Word count: 2.1k

Authors Note: This is a request fill for Anon (ask HERE) about a meet-cute between single dad Benedict and teacher reader. This is also dedicated to my lovely mutual @bridgertontess on the occasion of her birthday this weekend. Happy birthday my dear! Thank you for choosing the name of Benedict’s daughter in this fic. Many thanks to wonderful @colettebronte for giving this a read through, the title and for her generosity in creating the lovely artwork above. Enjoy! <3

You sigh as you fiddle with your nameplate, awaiting the start of Parents Evening. It’s always a night you dread - having to be polite to the parents of nightmare kids. There are a few pupils you simply adore, but somehow, those parents seem to linger less than those you struggle to find nice things to say about.

One of your favourites - yes, you know you’re not supposed to have them, but you do - is little Georgia Bridgerton. She is cute as a button with blue eyes and chestnut curls, but mostly, it’s her sweet temperament and intelligence you admire. You hope her parents turn up. You are intrigued to meet whoever created this little blessing, although you have only heard her talk of her Dad.

About an hour in, you have talked to six sets of parents of mostly middling pupils. You are just sneaking a look at your phone when someone flops into the chair opposite, and you hasten to drop it back in your bag.

When you look up, your lungs feel tight. Quite the most beautiful man has taken a seat, and you are temporarily dumbstruck as you glance at his name sticker. In the ‘hello my name is’ box, he has written Ben in large looping black letters. The ‘my child’s name is’ box has been left blank.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” you stutter, slightly distracted by his hazy eyes. “I don’t see your child’s name on your tag; who are you here for?” you ask.

He glances down at his navy shirt. “Ah shit, sorry.” Then he immediately winces. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear.”

“It’s fine,” you bat a hand. “The kids aren’t here tonight. You should hear me when they aren’t within earshot,” you jest, attempting to break the ice, even as you feel your face prickling hot at just the sight of him.

He laughs heartily, his face creasing up in quite the most handsome way, and you squeeze your legs together reflexively, hidden under the table. Good lord, he’s beautiful.

“I’m Georgia’s dad,” he explains as he stops laughing.

“Oh, my star pupil!” you gush, then have to stop. “Shit, I’m not supposed to say that,” you confess, eyes darting around the buzzing gymnasium to all the other parents and teachers, but no one seems to have heard.

“Or swear…” he adds for you, with a wink.

Oh fuck. You could be in trouble here.

You briefly dip your head, cheeks heated, until he starts talking again. “But it’s wonderful she’s doing so well. She talks about you a lot, to be honest. Always saying Mrs y/l/n is her favourite teacher,” he smiles.

“I am her only teacher,” you remind drolly, even as you can’t hide how pleased that makes you. “Should we wait for another parent before we dig in…?” you ask, gesturing to the empty chair to his left.

His face clouds slightly, and you worry you have made a faux pas. “Oh, she, uh, won’t be making it tonight,” he says quietly.

“Gosh, I’m sorry that was rude of me to presume,” you cringe.

“No, no, don’t worry,” he placates kindly. “Georgia’s mother left me when she was just a toddler. But six months ago, she cut off all contact and moved abroad. It’s been…” he pauses to sigh and roughly rubs his eyebrow, “…a tough adjustment, to be honest, mostly for Georgia. It’s been challenging trying to explain gently but honestly to a six-year-old that, in essence, her mother wants nothing to do with her.”

“I’m so very sorry,” you murmur, and part of you itches to reach out and give his hand a sympathetic squeeze as he picks his cuticles, probably unconsciously. “I can’t imagine why anyone would abandon her; she is quite the sweetest little child imaginable.”

You know it’s unprofessional to say so, but you want to comfort him human to human. And for some reason, you feel completely at ease being open and honest with him. His eyes flick up from his hands, and they are so soulful you once again feel tongue-tied.

“Thank you,” he demures.

“She talks about you a lot, too, in class. My dad did this; my dad did that. She looks up to you so much. You must be an excellent single parent,” you reassure, then lean forward over the table. “Umm, please don’t let anyone know I said any of this; it’s very unprofessional.”

His face morphs into a look of surprise, and then a lopsided smile tugs at the right corner of his mouth as he mirrors your stance, leaning in. “Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles as you feel your blood run warm. “But it will cost you….” he adds teasingly.

Your eyes dart to his uncertain. “W-what?” You stumble, genuinely concerned for the first time about your job.

He leans back in the chair, assuming a very relaxed stance, that crooked smile growing more prominent. “Yes. The price is your apple crumble recipe. Georgia brought some home; she said you had made it for the class to commemorate the school centennial. And it was quite the best dessert we have ever eaten.”

You exhale the breath you were holding, relieved and can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. “Deal,” you agree.

This is quite the most casual and flirtatious you have ever been with a parent, and you suddenly become cognisant of it. Sitting up straighter and clearing your throat, you shift gear a little, discussing the details of his daughter’s progress. He listens intently, nods, and asks questions at appropriate moments.

“Usually, I would conclude with suggested things you can do at home to assist your child,” you wrap up, “but, to be honest, for Georgia, I have no suggestions. She is just a delight and could not do any better. Just keep doing as you are; she will go far in this world.”

He clutches his chest, patently proud of his little girl, but you find yourself fixated on the crisscross of raised veins mapping the back of his large hand. Your traitorous brain chooses this moment to give you a vivid flash of that hand grabbing your flesh, making you squeak in your throat and a shiver run down your spine involuntarily, goosebumps breaking out over your arms.

“Are you alright?”

“Sorry, must be a draught from somewhere,” you fib, tugging at your cardigan sleeve. “Old school buildings and all,” you titter nervously.

He nods in understanding, but his eyes linger slightly longer than necessary on your body.

“Why are you a Mrs if you wear no wedding ring?” he blurts, then looks mortified. “God, I’m sorry, that is really none of my business,” he admits, blushing endearingly.

Your heart leaps into your throat at the idea he checked, but you maintain composure by waving a dismissive hand. “No, don’t worry, it's fine. I’m, umm, actually a widow,” you confess, seeing his eyes soften with sympathy. “Oh, it was a few years ago now,” you preempt the platitudes, “and I never took his last name for work, but I did change to Mrs at the school’s suggestion. I keep thinking I will change back to Ms one of these days, but all my pupils know me as Mrs you know,” you shrug with a nonplussed look.

He chuckles understandingly. “I’m sorry that happened,” he offers more soberly, and you nod.

“And I’m sorry for what happened to you and Georgia. She is doing remarkably, considering.”

Your time together is naturally wrapping up, but you are reluctant to voice it, and he seems in no hurry to move.

“At the risk of sounding completely inappropriate,” he hedges with a very beguilingly almost sheepish mien, “may I have your phone number?”

Your heart pounds, and you resist the temptation to squeal like a teenager or even show it on your face.

“Certainly,” you respond brightly. “I am always available to parents to discuss anything to do with their child’s education,” you try to justify as you scribble your number on a new page of your notepad.

“And what if I don’t want to discuss my child?” He asks quietly, his tone turning smoother, “may I still text you?”

You almost rip the paper straight through as you try to detach it from the metal spirals. You are certain your face is giving you away now, feeling flushed from your toes to your eyes.

“Yes,” you whisper, nervously glancing to meet his eyes for a brief second that feels blistering as you fold the paper and push it over the table towards him.

His fingertips brush yours as he takes the paper, and your body riots at that simple touch.

“Thank you,” he says sotto voce. “I look forward to connecting more,” he adds as he stands. You try your best not to ogle his body in his fitted dark wash jeans as he tucks the note in his pocket, but it’s at eye height now. And you try to ignore how his shirt hangs off his broad shoulders when you look up, but mostly, you fail.

You stand too, feeling awkward, and hold out your hand to shake, as you do with every parent.

He looks briefly bemused, then takes your hand in his. It’s warm, the skin soft except for some callouses where he holds a pen or maybe a paintbrush, and the size engulfs yours. You never want to let go. Fireworks explode behind your ribs as his eyes dance even under the harsh gym lights.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Mr Bridgerton,” you parrot your usual parting line at him, but somehow, it feels weighted with additional meaning.

“Likewise, Ms y/l/n,” he replies pointedly, not using the Mrs, as his thumb swipes distractingly over the back of your hand, not letting go. “And please call me Ben,” he requests duskily, finally stepping away, his fingers gradually slipping from yours.

You just nod, almost unable to speak, not trusting your tongue at this moment. You try not to watch Benedict walk away towards the exit, but again, you fail miserably.

Less than thirty seconds later, your phone buzzes in your bag. It’s a number you don’t recognise.

BB: I’ll need that apple crumble recipe for tomorrow if you don’t mind. I have a big family lunch on Saturday and have been roped into bringing dessert.

You giggle, your fingers fly over the screen, composing a response in your lap, even as the next parents pull up to take a seat.

Y/N: Okay… but good luck. Most of the secret is in the prep…

BB: Hmm, then a demo might be best. Fancy being a culinary teacher tomorrow after work?

Your heart flutters hard, and you must mumble an apology to the waiting parents as you can’t resist firing off a flirty response.

Y/N: But what if I don’t want to give away my trade secrets just yet? 😉

BB: Fair. Then my family will have to settle for Tesco’s finest cake instead…

Y/N: I can’t in all good conscience let that happen. OK, you have a deal. 7pm tmrw?

BB: 👍😁

You spend the rest of the Parents' Evening floating on a little cloud. You even smile through the meeting with Damien’s parents, who couldn’t be more aptly named.

The next evening, when his front door sweeps open, Benedict and Georgia are wearing matching pinstripe aprons, faces so eager. They look so adorable you crack a smile from ear to ear.

“Where’s your apron, Mrs y/l/n?” Georgia pipes up.

You smile, then reach into your shoulder bag and pull out your trusty apron with a flourish.

She breaks into giggles and does a happy little dance as Benedict gestures for you to come in with an exaggerated bow.

By the time you leave, hours later, they have a delicious apple crumble for their family lunch the following day, and Georgia is sleeping soundly. You have an apron dusted in flour, a tingle on your lips from his wondrous kisses and a lightness in your being that fizzes like champagne.

The following day, he texts that the apple crumble was such a success his mother demanded the recipe on the spot. Then, a few seconds later, another message asking you to drop by. You practically trip in the rush to get out the door.

When his front door sweeps open this time, he’s alone and dressed handsomely in a white shirt with those jeans. You are powerless to do anything but push up onto your tiptoes and kiss him immediately. And when he whispers hotly in your ear that Georgia is staying with her cousins for the night, you almost melt right into his doorstep.

It turns out Georgia was not the only blessing you got from the Bridgerton family.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

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hitchkidotin · 2 years

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sequinsmile-x · 25 days

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Our Great Divide - Chapter 3: Haunted by the Look in My Eyes

It's what they'd hoped would happen for years. For close to a decade it's what they would talk about late at night whilst snuggled up in bed together, quiet voices whispering about a life where Jack and Haley came back, where Jack could meet his siblings and their family would finally feel complete. Now it was finally happening, Emily had a pit in her stomach. A heavy weight made of fear and guilt as she worried that this could actually be the thing that tore them apart.

A Foyet Arc AU

-x-

Hi besties,

I am genuinely blown away by the love for this story!! It means so so much. I really hope you like this chapter, and I'm excited to know your thoughts <3

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings can be found on the Master List

Words: 4.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He was used to this office no longer being his. Handing it over to Emily once he’d retired had seemed natural, her step up into Unit Chief something he’d supported since the moment he’d decided to leave the FBI. It always brought a sense of familiarity when he came to visit, one or more of their children in tow as he walked in to see her, to give her a taste of home on her bad days. The room had a sense of comfort to it. Pictures of them and the kids on her desk, framed drawings from kindergarten and 1st-grade classes proudly displayed on the bookcase - bright messy lines and shapes standing out against the dark wood and gloomy nature of the work Emily did here.

The work Aaron had left behind when Hugo was born.

He was used to stepping into her office and it not being his, but this time it feels like he’s stepped back in time, like he could blink and the nameplate on her desk would transform into his. She’s busy fussing with the pictures of their family, turning them so they can’t be seen unless someone is sitting in her desk chair.

“I should put these away,” Emily says, pulling him out of his thoughts as she turns to the bookcase and reaches for a drawing Leo had presented her with one day after school, 5 stick figures drawn in front of a house staring back at her - all brightly coloured and wobbly lines. She runs her finger over the glass, drawing in a shaky breath as she traces the outline of their home and then she clears her throat, reaching for the others and piling them on top of each other, “Don’t want these to be the reason they find out about the kids.” She opens one of her desk drawers and gently places the drawings in there, her gaze lingering on the picture on top, something Stella had drawn - a mess of scribbles she’d claimed was their cat, Sergio. She blows out a slow breath and closes the drawer, standing up straight again as she looks over at her husband, her heart clenching at the look on his face, how lost he looks. She walks over and grabs his hand, linking their fingers together as she squeezes gently, her smile soft when he looks up at her, “How are you doing?”

He huffs out a breath and squeezes her hand back, “This is what I’ve wanted for years. But now it’s happening…I’m…”

He drifts off, not sure how to put into words how he was feeling. He was excited to see his son. Devastated he’d lost out on so much time with him. Guilty that he and Haley had been gone for so long when Foyet hadn’t been a threat for years. Aaron feels it all churn in his gut, nausea threatening to climb up his throat as he swallows thickly.

Emily wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, sucking in a deep breath when he holds her tightly, a desperation to his grip she hadn’t felt in years, “I know, honey,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching his jaw, “I know.”

A knock on the door draws them apart, and she smiles tightly at Matt when he pushes the door open, “They’re here.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Emily says, clearing her throat as she steps away from her husband, her fingers slipping out of his as she puts a little space between them, wanting to make sure he got to do this at his pace, “Send them in.”

He nods and walks back out, leaving them alone again. The few seconds it takes for there to be another knock on the door feels like an eternity, the way their life together had been drawing to a close, a quiet, peaceful death as the new one is brought to life.

The first thing Aaron thinks when he sees Jack is how tall he is. He’s towering above Haley. All long awkward long limbs that probably appeared overnight one day, a moment Aaron remembered himself when he was a teenager. He’s skinny, his eyes and hair are Haley’s, but other than that he looks like him. He looks like his little brothers he doesn’t know exist. His nervous expression one he’d seen countless times on Hugo and Leo’s faces, one he remembered from a lifetime ago when Jack was no older than Stella and broke a picture frame, his eyes wide as he waited to be in trouble.

They stand in silence, staring at each other, unsure what to say or where to start. The time they’d lost a chasm that they could not cross even though they were just a few feet apart.

“Haley,” Emily says, breaking the silence, knowing someone had to as she steps forward. She falters when she’s within reaching distance of the other woman unsure whether she should shake her hand or hug her. She clears her throat, settling for crossing her arms over her chest so she doesn’t make this any more awkward, “It’s…good to see you.”

Haley clears her throat and nods, her blonde hair now shorter than it once was, flecks of grey blended into it, wrinkles around her eyes that Aaron once thought he’d watch bloom, “You too,” she says, her eyes flicking back and forth between her and Aaron, her lips pressed together, “I wasn’t expecting that we’d have company.”

“Oh,” Emily says, her eyebrows furrowing as she scrambles internally, unsure what she should say, “Well-”

“She’s my…” Aaron clears his throat, his voice croaking now he’d found it, “She’s my wife.”

Haley’s eyes go wide and she looks at their hands, at the matching gold bands and she blows out a slow breath, “Oh,” she says, licking her lower lip, “I see.”

They fall into silence again. Deafening and awkward and overwhelming and Emily hates it. Hates that this wasn’t like a reunion you’d see in a cheesy made-for-TV movie, when people were brought together after years apart as if nothing had changed. But so much had changed. So much had happened, and Jack and Aaron didn’t know each other because of it, and part of her wanted to go to the crematorium and find something creative to do with Foyet’s remains because of it.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Emily suggests, looking over at her husband who nods, his smile fleeting but grateful as they all walk over to the couch. Emily sits on the arm of it next to her husband, lets him tug her closer, use her as a comfort blanket, his arm hooked over her legs. She looks at Jack, “I don’t know if you remember me, but-”

“You’re Emily,” he says, his voice deeper than either of them had expected, “You were on my Dad’s team.”

She smiles and nods, “That’s right.”

“This is…so weird,” Jack says, looking at Aaron, his eyebrows knitting together, “You’re older than I remember.”

Aaron laughs, the sound catching in his chest before he can stop it, “You’re older than I remember too buddy.”

It breaks the tension, the way they all laugh for a second easing something in the air. They talk for a while, asking Jack about what he enjoyed at school - French - and what he did for fun - track. Aaron beams with pride he worries may be misplaced when Haley explains Jack already had a space on the high school track team even though he was still in middle school. That he was that good they’d already poached him. Haley tells them about her job, about how she’d gone back to school and got a qualification in child care, that she managed a daycare centre in the small town they’d called home all these years. If anyone else was listening in, it would seem like old friends catching up. Idle chit-chat to pass the time on a street corner before agreeing to not be strangers before going their separate ways.

“What about you two?” Haley says, looking at their linked hands on Emily’s lap, “How long have you been together?”

“Eight years,” Aaron says, squeezing his wife’s hand, “Close to nine.”

Haley smiles politely, “I’ll be honest, I always thought there was something there,” she says, her smile getting wider when Aaron frowns, “It’s true - just ask Jess. I said it to her before…” she drifts off and clears her throat, “Anyway. That doesn’t matter. How did it happen?”

“I was away for a while,” Emily says, being as purposely vague about her time in Paris as she could be, the memories of it still painful after all these years, “And I came back and went to his place…we’ve been together ever since.”

Despite everything, Aaron feels warmth spread through his chest at the memory of it. The look on her face, when he opened his door to her, stood there on his doormat, still wearing the outfit she’d work to the Senate Committee, a shine in her eyes he now knew had been love.

“Are you with anyone?” Aaron asks without thinking, cursing himself as he says it, sure it’s too intrusive, “You don’t have to-”

“No it’s okay,” Haley replies, “There’s…there is someone but I’ve never let it get serious,” she says, her lips pressed together, “Just in case.” She doesn’t have to explain what she means, they all know what she hasn’t said. That her life was on hold just in case this very thing happened, in case she was suddenly pulled from her life in a second with no questions asked. She clears her throat again before she carries on, “Do you have kids?” She asks, and Emily can tell she’s asked on instinct, that it was a follow-up question she’d ask anyone if she was getting to know them, her flashing as she realises what she’s asked, her assumption that they didn’t have children clear, “I’m sorry, that was-”

“Actually,” Aaron says, cutting her off, his grip on Emily’s hand bordering on painful, “We do.”

The silence returns with a deafening crack. Loud and painful as Jack’s brow furrows and Haley heaves in a deep breath, her jaw clenched before she replies, “You do?”

“Yes, we do,” Emily nods and she squeezes Aaron’s hand before she disconnects herself from him. She walks the short distance to the desk and picks up one of the framed photos, smiling briefly at the photo of her, Aaron and the kids. She turns back, not missing how Haley’s attention has been drawn to her nameplate on the desk, and she passes the picture to her, sure that any warring emotions would be calmed by seeing her children’s sweet faces, just three more innocents pulled into one dead man’s determination for power and control. She sits back down on the arm of the couch, reaching for Aaron’s hand again, “Hugo is 7, Leo is 5 and Stella is 3.”

“You had more kids?” Jack asks, frowning as he looks between Aaron and the picture in his mother’s hands, his siblings all smiling up at him from behind glass. A moment in time of a normal family life that he’d only been able to dream about. He stands up, forced upwards by his emotions and he clears his throat, “I want to go.”

“Jack-” Aaron says, standing up too, not letting go of Emily’s hand, “I know this isn’t easy.”

“Can we go, please?” Jack says, looking at his mother, ignoring his father’s gaze and Haley nods, leaving the picture in her hands on the couch as she stands.

“Of course, honey,” she says, smiling tightly as she looks back at Aaron and Emily, “I’ll call you,” she says, “We can talk again when everything is a little less…”

She drifts off and Aaron nods, holding Emily closer to stop himself from reaching out for his son, not wanting to cross any boundaries the teenager was firmly putting in place, “Jack, I-”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Jack says, cutting over him as he steps out of the office, Aaron deflates, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, and Emily wraps both of her hands around one of his as they watch Jack leave.

Haley sighs and closes her eyes, her grip on her purse tight as she looks at them, “It’s hard on him,” she says, her lips pressed together, “He’s spent years asking about you. We talked about you every night at bedtime when he was small and now we’ve come back and you’ve…moved on.” The way she speaks is full of anger neither Aaron nor Emily deserves, but that they know she isn’t wrong to feel and it hurts, a dagger to their guts that makes it momentarily hard to breathe, “Like I said,” she says, turning towards the door to follow her son, “I’ll call.”

Once they are alone again Aaron slips down onto the couch, his head in his hands as he lets out a shuddering breath, “That was…”

Emily sighs, her eyes temporarily drifting shut so she can gather herself before she sits down next to him, her hand on his back between his shoulder blades as she rubs circles there, “That was as good as it was going to be, I think,” she says, smiling encouragingly at him when he looks up at her, “It’s a lot. And he’s a kid. Being a teenager is rough at the best of times.”

He hums in agreement and rests his head on her shoulder, “I know it’s stupid, that it was never going to be easy,” he says, sinking further into her embrace when she wraps her arms around him, her hands holding his head to her chest, “But I really wish it was.”

She turns and kisses his forehead, taking a moment to breathe him in before she rests her cheek on the top of his head. She looks over at the other end of the couch, at the face down picture of her family, hidden from view, and she feels anxiety spark in her gut, a feeling that things were only going to get more painful and complicated taking up room in her chest.

“Me too, honey,” she says, holding him closer, “Me too.”

___

October 2012

“Everything looks good.”

The relief is palpable, her sigh stuttering as she looks from husband to her doctor, her smile wide and eyes shining, “Really?”

Aarons squeezes her hand, shifting as close as he can to her from where he’s sitting next to the bed, his elbows skimming her side. The doctor nods, her smile kind as she looks back at the ultrasound screen, “Your baby is measuring perfectly for how far along you are,” she assures her, “And the anatomy scan hasn’t shown any anomalies,” she smiles kindly, clearly used to the mix of relief and disbelief washing over the expectant parent’s faces, “Your baby looks perfect.”

Emily chokes on a sob, shaking her head at herself as she starts to cry, “Damn it,” she sniffs, wiping her cheeks with the hand not linked in Aaron’s, “I cry at everything these days.”

The doctor chuckles politely and hands her some tissues, “Don’t worry, it’s totally normal,” she says, “I’ll print you some pictures in a minute, but before I do I just want to check if you still want to know what you’re having?”

Emily nods, her heart stuttering in her chest as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her gaze flicking to him, his reassuring nod all she needs. In another life, she thinks she’d have waited to find out, but she knew what emotions would be attached to them having a boy. She wanted them to be prepared, to know whether they were having a son or a daughter, so whatever they might feel in this room would be long gone by the time their baby was born.

“Yeah,” she says, turning back to the doctor, “We want to find out.”

Aaron leans in closer, a kiss stamped against her knuckles as he trails his thumb across her forehead, desperate to be as close to her as possible. The doctor shifts the wand on Emily’s belly, the only sound in the room the clicking of buttons on the ultrasound machine as she focuses on the screen.

She smiles at them, “Congratulations - you’re having a boy.”

Emily’s joy is sharp. It’s overwhelming and almost suffocating as it fills her lungs, but it’s short-lived. Aaron’s hand briefly loosens around hers, his thumb stuttering on her forehead, and he doesn’t cover the flash of pain in his eyes before she looks at him. He smiles at her, as much happiness carved into his dimples as there was sadness, every moment in their life together tainted by what was missing from it.

“A boy, sweetheart,” his voice shaky in a way the doctor would mistake for excitement, “We’re having a boy.”

She smiles, her hand on his cheek as she pulls him in for a soft kiss, the taste of grief passing from his lips to hers, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, recovered from the news now, his happiness overtaking everything else, but it’s too late for her to have not noticed, for it to not forever be a part of this moment.

When they get home, Aaron excuses himself to the home office. She doesn’t question it, swallows down the pain she feels because she knows whatever he’s feeling is worse. She sits on the couch, an ultrasound picture in her hands as she stares at it, trailing her fingers back and forth over the image of her son’s face, a smile flickering over her face at the slope of his nose.

“Sorry about the nose, sweet boy,” she says, placing her hand on her bump, her smile getting wider when she feels him move, a shifting beneath her skin she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to, love and joy spreading through her every time she felt it. She was excited for Aaron to feel it too, for the movements to get stronger and sharper so he could be a part of this, “Although,” she jokes, smiling when she feels more movement that she’d watched so carefully on the ultrasound screen earlier so she could picture it now, her eyes drifting closed as she imagines her son wiggling in her belly, “Daddy’s nose isn’t small either. So I think you were screwed either way,” her smile fades as she thinks about the sadness that permeated everything do with this. How even finding out they were having a little boy only highlighted what they were missing, “I love you so much, baby. Daddy does too. And we’ll do everything to make sure you’re safe.”

She isn’t sure how long she sits there, talking to her son about anything and everything, her fingers drawing patterns over her bump as she chases his movements. Eventually, she hears the office door open and her husband’s footsteps. She turns to look at him when he walks into the living room, her smile soft as their eyes meet.

“Hi,” she says, swallowing thickly as she looks back down at her bump, her throat clogged with emotions she can’t bring herself to name, “I was just telling him about his Aunt Pen,” she says, her smile shaking as Aaron comes over to join her on the couch, “And how she’ll buy him everything he ever wants.”

Aaron chuckles, a half-hearted thing that hangs in the air around them as he places his hand on her belly, “She will love spoiling you,” he says, his eyes meeting Emily’s, “We may have to tell her to calm down, it’s not like we can’t get him everything we need ourselves.”

She smiles, leaning in to kiss him, her lips soft against his, “Well,” she says, kissing him again, “You can be the one to have that conversation with her,” she says, pulling back, her lips pressed together, chasing the taste of him on her skin. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the sadness he was trying his best to hide from her lingering in them. “I’m sorry.”

He frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as he tilts his head slightly, “What for sweetheart?”

She huffs out a breath, “I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head as she wipes tears from her cheeks, unsure when she’d even started crying, “For the fact we never got Foyet. That Jack and Haley are still gone. That my birth control may as well have been candy,” she laughs bitterly, leaning into his touch when he cups her cheek and wipes her tears for her, “That we’re having a boy. I know…” she looks down, her chest heaving, “I know it would have been easier if we were having a girl.”

“Em, you have nothing to apologise for,” he says fiercely, the sternness in his voice a contradiction to his soft touch on her cheek as he continues to wipe away fresh tears, “You are the reason I’m still standing after everything with Foyet,” he says, pressing his forehead against hers, “You’ve held me together since long before you showed up on my doorstep saying you had no place to stay,” they both chuckle, his desperate and hers wet at it catches in her throat, “We’ll get him one day. And the baby…” he swallows thickly, “We made him together. We’ll love him together too, and I could never be sorry about that,” he pulls back to kiss her forehead, “And, not to mention that Reid would remind you I’m the one who determines if we have a boy or a girl,” he smiles at her, a lopsided thing that warms her from the inside out, “You have nothing to apologise for, and I’ll tell you that however many times you need me to.”

She nods, leaning forward so her face is pressed against his chest, “I love you,” she says, sucking in a shaky breath.

“I love you too,” he says, rubbing circles on her back, “And him. I never want you to doubt that. I just…I just needed a moment.”

“I know,” she replies, smiling tightly when she pulls back, “I know,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “It’s hard,” she pauses, unsure if she should acknowledge the elephant in the room, but she pushes forward, not wanting anything unsaid between them, “Especially with Jack’s birthday coming up.”

He nods, his hold on her tightening, “Yeah,” he replies, shaking his head, “He’s turning 7 and I don’t even know what he likes. If he still likes Captain America or if he’s grown out of it. If he’s already riding a bike,” he smiles sadly, “Haley was always terrible at riding a bike so I wonder if someone else taught him.”

She knows she can’t say anything to make it better, so she moves to sit in his lap, her side pressed against his chest. It was the closest she could get to him these days, her bump already in the way of a chest to chest hug, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like it, that she didn’t enjoy being completely curled up in his arms.

“Do you want to do what we usually do on his birthday?” She asks, idly thinking about how they’d have a baby in tow next year, strapped to her chest or in her arms as they ate in Jack’s favourite diner before they went to the park and walked around, sad smiles on their faces as they watched children play. They could take their little boy on the swings, sit him in Emily’s lap as they barely moved back and forth and tell him all about his big brother he’d meet one day.

“Yeah,” he replies, kissing her forehead, “I’d like that,” he rests his hand on her belly, “Is he moving?”

She hums and nods, “Yeah. He is.”

“I can’t wait to feel it,” he says, his thumb stroking back and forth over her bump, “Now we know, we can start to think of names.”

She groans, “Most boy names suck,” she says, scrunching up her nose, “How did you come up with Jack?”

He chuckles, “It took a while,” he admits, “We kept trying to think of names that didn’t belong to a serial killer.”

She furrows her brow, a disbelieving chuckle catching in her throat, “Honey, you named him after the most prolific-”

“I know,” he says, cutting her off, “Trust me, I see the irony in it.”

She chuckles, and she rests her head on his shoulder and kisses his neck, “We should buy a book of names or something.”

He smiles, his chest warm with love and joy all because of her and the baby that lay beneath her skin, “I’ll go out and buy one tomorrow.”

They argue back and forth about names for weeks before they settle on Hugo, a name she’d chosen because it honoured the man called the father of science fiction, something that had earned her an eye roll from her husband and a low whisper about her being a nerd. He relents, because he was always going to, the joy in her eyes when she finally found a name she loved addictive to him. She smiles in victory when he agrees, and for the first time since she found herself looking at a positive pregnancy test, she allows herself to believe that everything would be okay.

#emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fan fic

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freesia-writes · 5 months

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Chapter 2: School

Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. Rated PG-13 for some mild suspense, suggestive talk, alcohol and drug use, and adult themes. Banner and dividers by @pinkiemme ~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter

Chapter 2: School (Word Count: 2.7k)

Hunter winced, one hand on his shoulder as he moved his arm in a circle, trying to work out the sore spot from the morning’s wrestle with an angry bruallki that had apparently only feigned death from his shot. He’d had time to hunt, spend a few hours in his shop, and get cleaned up before heading up the hill to Omega’s school. It was a plain rectangular building on top of a grassy plain that housed students from the youngest grade levels up to young adults within its brick walls, but the island wasn’t too populated so the classes usually consisted of about 10 to 15 students each. He opened the door to the office, shifting his bag on his other shoulder as the attendance clerk looked up at him brightly.

After checking in, Hunter was free to walk the halls in search of Omega, who was late in meeting him at their usual spot in front of the school. It wasn’t unheard of — she was usually either caught up in conversation with one of the staff members she’d taken a liking to or lost in thought from diving into one of her assignments as soon as she could. True to form, Hunter soon found her in the back of the administrative wing, in a little corner office that was full of dark wooden furniture. There were a few small, warm lamps, and there was Omega, relaxing in a cozy chair in front of a plain desk with a chiseled nameplate sitting on its corner: Lyra Vetana, Records Clerk.

The woman behind the desk looked to be a bit older than him, or what Hunter assumed it looked like for nat-borns, with long brown hair that was mostly straight, a somewhat angular jaw, and smile lines around her mouth and eyes. She was currently nodding slowly at whatever Omega was sharing, and as Hunter approached, he caught her attention, her gaze soon followed by Omega’s, who piped up immediately.

“Oh hey Hunter! Sorry I’m late. Lyra was just sharing about what past students have done during their apprenticeship year. She’s got a bunch of great ideas!”

“Yeah?” Hunter answered, shifting his focus to Lyra, who shook her head with a small smile.

“Just what the kids have come up with,” she corrected, straightening a random pile of papers off to the side. “But I apologize for holding you up.” Her voice was smooth, with just a little bit of husky texture that made it imperfectly pleasant, and it matched her humble and unassuming demeanor. Hunter could see why Omega appreciated her company; she had a steady, soothing presence, although it seemed somewhat flat.

“It’s alright, just got some work to do before dinner,” Omega reassured her, rising to her feet and pulling her backpack out of the chair beside her. “Which I bet is steak again, right?” She aimed the question at Hunter, who exhaled through his nose as he tilted his head at her.

“Look, you should be happy that I can cook anything at all, you know…”

“I’m just kidding,” Omega said, patting his shoulder as though she were the parent. “You’re doing great, and you’ve come so far!” Hunter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, although her words carried some weight, and he caught what looked like a condescending smile on Lyra’s face.

“I make salad too…” he grumbled, and Lyra turned a laugh into a cough so quickly it made him second guess what he’d heard, squinting at her as she turned to move that same stack of papers all of a sudden.

“Shoot! I need my interview journal; I left it in my locker. Be right back, and then we can go!” Omega announced, trotting out the door to leave Hunter standing awkwardly in front of where Lyra was seated at her desk. But then he realized a potential solution to an argument he’d had that morning with Omega.

“Hey, quick question…” he began, looking over his shoulder before dropping into one of the chairs in front of Lyra’s desk. “I… ah… Omega’s very special, and… I know it’s real safe here and all, but… We’re still new, and I just want to make sure… she’s alright… you know. And I know she comes to talk to you often, and you have been here at the school for a while…” He rummaged in his small sling bag for a moment, finding it hard to meet Lyra’s curious gaze.

He found what he was looking for and held it up for her to see. It looked like it could have been a large button from a piece of clothing, but upon closer inspection one could see that it was a different kind of button — a small metal cylinder that could be flipped open with a raised round part to press inside. “Would you do me a favor and hang onto this? It’s… it’s an emergency beacon, and if anything ever happens, you press it and we can be here immediately. Omega refused to keep it on her, but… I just…”

Lyra regarded it, and him, with an unreadable expression, brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing. She held out her hand, inviting Hunter to give it to her, but he paused.

“Look, I know it seems paranoid, or overly protective, but there’s a lot that I just can’t explain, and I know you’ll probably never have to use it, but it would just make me feel better if—“

“I get it,” Lyra interrupted reassuringly, giving him a small, serious nod as she beckoned for him to place it in her palm. He felt a disproportionate cascade of relief; maybe he’d built this up more than necessary in his head, but he appreciated knowing there were extra safety measures in place. “I don’t see her all the time, but if there’s ever an emergency, I’ll let you and her mom know.”

“No mom,” Hunter shook his head, “Just me.”

“Oh, sorry— you said ‘we’ could be here right away, so I just thought—“

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Me and our brothers.”

“Got it,” Lyra said quietly, closing her fingers around both the button and a million unasked questions.

“Thanks,” Hunter said, nodding in finality before rising to his feet. He leaned out the doorway, peering down the hall and still finding no sign of Omega, then returned to his post just inside the door, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. He was still getting used to the social situations outside of war, and truth be told, he sometimes missed the rushed simplicity of mission after life-threatening mission. Casting a glance back to Lyra, he was somewhat relieved to find that she’d pulled some other files out of a folder and was tapping away at her keyboard. He couldn’t get a read on her… was she dismissive? Standoffish? Content? Or just didn’t feel the need to force conversation?

“So ah, what is it you do here again?” he asked, the words flowing without his permission. He cringed inwardly, hating the complexity of civilian life at times, but Lyra paused her typing and met his gaze with a patient warmth that lessened his anxious overthinking.

“I’m a records clerk, which means I have the great esteem and honor of filing away every transcript, work study application, apprenticeship offer, accommodations meeting notes, and so on. Basically, if it happens here, I record it here. And if people need any data from the archives, I’m the one to find it for them,” she answered, poking fun at the seeming unimportance of her job without the full cynicism of one who legitimately resented their duties.

“Sounds peaceful,” was all that Hunter could think to say, and his estimation was met with a slow nod.

“It is,” Lyra agreed, the faintest smile touching her thoughtful expression. “And you? What keeps you busy on the island?”

“I’m a hunter, ironically enough,” he answered, smirking dryly. “And a butcher. I have a meat shop down in The Cobbles,” he continued, referring to the part of town just above the beaches that was the notorious center for businesses, restaurants, galleries, and city government offices.

“Ahh,” came the enlightened realization. “Yes. I’ve heard of it from other staff members here.” Hunter wondered what else she’d heard, but judging by any response he could sense, there was nothing more to it. “Not a lot of imports on the island, so everything you sell is from here?”

“Freshly blasted daily,” Hunter said with a mock chipperness that made them both snort. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite figure out, whether she was genuinely enjoying the conversation or just tolerating it, whether she had more to say or was simply killing the time they were forced to interact. But he supposed it didn’t matter much, and as they fell silent again, Hunter could hear familiar footsteps approaching.

“Well, I appreciate you being here for Omega… and all the other kids,” he said quietly, and he caught a wistfulness on her face before it disappeared instantly. Lyra smiled and nodded demurely, brightening up when she saw Omega in the doorway.

“Ready?” the girl asked Hunter, beaming back and forth between him and Lyra.

“Ready,” he echoed, giving Lyra a polite dip of the head before taking his leave.

The house that Hunter and Omega shared was not far from Tech and Phee’s, sitting on the side of the hills that stretched up from the beaches in rugged terrain peppered with large boulders and cliffs. The island had an interesting layout – large, flat beaches wrapping around the entire coast, then The Cobbles, an aptly-named cobblestoned street with storefronts spaced out neatly on both sides, punctuated by a few older residences, a small garden, and some town governance buildings. The entire island was fairly cut off from most everything else in the galaxy, with very few trade connections, resulting in a harmonious self-sufficiency where each person specialized and contributed to the overall good through commerce or direct trade. The business area was the one main street that stretched in a gentle upward slope from the beach to the cliffs, where it stopped abruptly.

The island topography continued to rise from there, slowly but steadily, with houses peppered across the hills above The Cobbles. There were trees and meadows scattered across the land, and the majority of the population lived on the western side of the island in small homes or flat, layered apartment buildings that were spread out above the business district. The apartment complexes huddled together around the Town Square, a large, open area full of string lights, street vendors, food carts, and an endless array of farmer’s markets, cultural events, musical performances, and so on. Single-family homes were spaced out more along the walking paths that snaked up and down the island, nestled among trees and hills.

A few were tucked further into The Forest, which covered the eastern side of the island in a rugged, dense landscape full of trees and rivers. It was virtually unpopulated save for the houses on its western edge. Near the top of the island, above the layers of homes, lay a large, grassy meadow that stretched out in soothingly gentle slopes. A few ranches had settled around it, utilizing the perfect supply of everything they needed to raise agriculture, and off to one corner of the space sat the school. The highest point of the island was a small mountain upon which they’d built an observatory, although it was chronically out of order. Life on Xylo was a cozy, quiet way, punctuated with whatever creativity the locals could concoct. There were a few other populated islands on the planet as well, each having its own specialty and unique feel.

Hunter brushed his hands on his apron, the soothing bumps of embroidery warming his heart as he remembered Omega’s beaming face when she’d gifted it to him. It was the initial product of her first job shadow, and she’d chosen a plain gray fabric on which to hand-sew her best attempt at two large 9s in Aurebesh as well as a rudimentary copy of Hunter’s half-skull tattoo.

The meat sizzled in the pan as he turned it, spattering hot grease in response to his prodding. He’d added some herbs this time, filling the entire house with the mouthwatering scent of perfectly-balanced flavors. Omega was chopping vegetables on the wood block next to him, chattering happily about the amazing variety of local produce that was supposed to be available at the next farmer’s market.

It had been a hard decision when they settled on the island of whether to live together as they always had or to try to branch out into their own spaces. Phee had commandeered Tech into a home of their own, Echo was interested in the communal setup of one of the small neighborhoods, and Crosshair had found a peaceful home with Batcher in the same area, leaving Wrecker and Hunter staring awkwardly at each other. It had worked out quite well, however, as Hunter had found a cozy house in a small clearing surrounded by trees that also included a comically small additional unit across the tiny meadow that was a perfect fit for Wrecker in every way except his size. But the brawny clone had a knack for construction and had single-handedly remodeled the entire thing to be more suitable. The main dwelling on the property was a typical “cabin in the woods”, and with a few modifications had become a soothing place of respite for both Hunter and Omega, whose small bedrooms branched off the main room that boasted a large fireplace and plenty of wood-hewn furniture.

“This is my new favorite,” Omega said, as they dug into their dinner.

“The bacon-wrapped sirloin was the best so far,” Wrecker mumbled through a mouthful. He had a knack for showing up right at dinnertime, and his presence always filled the room with even more warmth and joviality. That, paired with the fact that he almost always trundled in with his latest catch over his shoulder, had solidified his place at the table above and beyond the fact that he was family.

“This sauce on that steak would be fun to try,” Hunter mused.

“Oh! I’ve got a trip coming up!” Omega announced, pushing her food to the side of her mouth and waving her fork excitedly.

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, tilting his head curiously. “For what?”

“Madame Dreyfus is going to take me on a purchasing run where she selects all of her base fabrics and shows me what to look for. Then she’ll show me which types are most conducive to different colors and types of dyes.”

“Sounds fun!” Wrecker exclaimed, attempting to counterbalance the trepidation he could hear in Hunter’s voice.

“Mhm,” Hunter conceded, “Where does she go for that?”

“One of the other islands; I forget the name,” Omega answered.

“Plata?” Wrecker asked, grinning at Hunter’s sharp look in his direction. He was referring to the second largest island on the planet, notorious for its vibrant nightlife and “you only live once” sort of atmosphere.

“No,” Omega laughed, “One of the agricultural ones.”

“Oh. Sounds good,” Hunter said slowly. “Just you and her?”

“Us, two seamstresses, and their students!”

“I don’t know,” Wrecker said in hesitant, drawn-out syllables that made both Hunter and Omega look at him quizzically, but the thinly-veiled mischief in his eyes gave him away immediately. “I’m not sure Hunter can manage without you. How long will you be gone?” His attempt at consternation was met with a delighted giggle from the girl, who tilted her head at Hunter with a playful, motherly expression.

“You’ll have to keep an eye on him for me, Wreck,” she replied in her chipper voice. “The trip is three days long! And this whole year includes trips with our mentors, so he’s gonna have to get used to it!”

“Aaawwww, Hunter,” Wrecker fawned, “What are you gonna do?”

“I guess I’ll find a way to survive,” Hunter stated dramatically, the gleam in his eye belying his own intent. Omega’s chuckle was drowned in the boom of Wrecker’s laugh, and the three of them finished their dinners in good spirits.

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