#my coworkers were nice to me. one made me dinner because he wanted to. i made a yummy coffee

[megamindsecretlair]

If I Took You Home, Part 1

Pairing: Dom!Kevin Atwater x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Food porn. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing, fingering (female receiving), cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. D/s dynamics.

Summary: Your friends were all in relationships so that meant it was time to bug you about your singledom. They were constantly setting you up on dates that made you back out. However, you were sick of saying no and your friend's boyfriend really played up his coworker and friend. It was all true. Your blind date leaves you wanting more.

Word Count: 6,245k

AO3 Link

A/N: Hello, my loves. I am missing Kevin so bad! It's been 3 WEEKS without a new episode. I'm dying over here. Reblog and comment to save a writer's life. And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @nworbaij @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @twocentuar @westside-rot @yaachtynoboat711 @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @bigsisbria @babybratzmaraj @darqchilddaydreamz

You knew better than to trust your damn friends. You sat at a nice restaurant in a casual berry colored dress, sipping wine and looking like a pathetic loser eating dinner alone. You didn’t have a book to try and pretend like this was planned. Like you decided to take yourself on a date. 

You glanced at your phone. To be fair, you were a bit early. Only because you were so nervous about a blind date to begin with. Why had you said yes? 

You weren’t sure now. Maybe it was your friends and their constant hounding. They were all hooked up with their respective partners so now you were getting the pitying stares. The stressed smiles after they got done gushing about their own dates and partners. As if being single was some type of disease they wanted to cure. 

You took another sip of the sweet wine and thought about canceling. Blind dates were a joke. They probably set you up with some ogre of a man who picked his teeth at the table or scratched his belly after he was finished. 

You looked over the menu to give yourself something to do, so you weren’t just staring at your phone. 

Your mind ran through all kinds of possibilities for this random man you decided to go out with. Maybe he was bald. Maybe he was shorter than you. You didn't mind dating someone short, but they usually had complexes that you weren’t capable of dealing with. Maybe he was a secret chauvinist…

“Excuse me?” You turned your head to the words and got a face full of stomach. You tilted your head up and saw a gorgeous man with hickory smoked skin, dark and luscious beard, and kinked hair. He smiled wide showing a row of beautiful teeth and you were momentarily struck stupid.

“Friend of Claire’s right?” He asked. “I hope.” He chuckled and licked his lips. Your eyes caught the movement, the slow glide of his tongue across the swell of his lips. 

You swallowed a giant ball of stupid thoughts, nodding because you didn’t trust your voice. You were going to have to marry Claire for this one. Absolutely marry her. Her boyfriend, Jay, was going to have to get in line. 

The man stuck his hand out and you looked at it briefly, before looking back into his deep brown eyes. “Kevin Atwater,” he said. 

You sputtered and mumbled out your name, finally taking his hand and shaking it. His hand eclipsed yours, so huge with thick fingers. His nails were clean too. He smiled and finally took the seat opposite you.

You rearranged the napkin on your nap to give you a reason to collect yourself. You were not the type to go all googly eyed for a man. At least not where they could see. When you looked up, you caught the eye of the woman next to you who had been throwing her own pitying looks your way.

You smirked and lifted an eyebrow, communicating without words. She swiftly turned her gaze to her own date, fixing her already neat bun.

Kevin cleared his throat, pulling the seat closer to the table. His legs were so long however, that he still had a lot of room from the table to his olive green button up. It was open at the collar, giving you a peak at his chest and a black tank underneath. A hint of a chain He wore dark jeans and dark green boots to match and a row of bracelets on his wrists. He had already taken off his black puffer jacket when you weren’t looking. 

“You find the restaurant okay?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am. The parking though?” He asked and shook his head. You giggled, feeling giddy over the ma’am comment rather than annoyed. He said it like it was a casual, Southern thing and not in a teasing way. 

“I know. But I couldn’t believe you’d never been to this place. I thought you grew up in Chicago?” You asked.

“I did. ‘Bout some blocks that way,” he said, pointing South. “But life got busy. Maybe I just needed the right sign to go.”

You smiled. It was a cheesy joke, but why was it working? Perhaps the wine finally got to you, settling low in your belly. Maybe the sudden ache in your pussy was from the alcohol and not the way he looked framed by the wall of lights behind him. Rather than sink out of focus, his face seemed only framed by it. Kissed by it. Like the light settled into his skin with the softest sigh. 

“I’m sorry if I started without you,” you said, grabbing your wine and taking a sip. You’d need your wits about you if you were going to remain cool and calm in his presence. After the disastrous first impression, you needed some points in your favor.

“That’s fine. I probably would have to. What’s that you’re drinking?” He asked. He picked up the menu but didn’t look at it as you told him the vintage. He nodded and gave you an approving grin. 

“Alright, I’ve never had it. Is it good?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Not my favorite but it’ll do,” you said. He grinned and caught the attention of a passing waiter. He ordered some type of bourbon, Old Emmer, and then the conversation turned towards the food.

“Since I’ve never been here, what’s good?” He asked.

The Italian restaurant was famous for a lot of things, but none more so than the lasagna. Every time you had it, you swore up and down that someone in the kitchen was from the Old Country. You could taste the sunshine, hearth, and powdered hands as it worked the dough on the noodles. The tomatoes from the vine in the sauce. That hint of spice from the earth itself. The soft wool of the goat that provided the cheese. And the meat. You resisted the urge to pinch your fingers and kiss your mouth every time you thought of it. 

“I’d say…the lasagna. I can’t resist it when I’m here,” you said. You hoped you sounded cool about it. If given half a chance, your enthusiasm would erupt all over the table and he’d be halfway down the street before you could call him back.

“Lasagna it is, then,” he said. The waiter arrived with his drink and Kevin took a sip. He tilted his whole body back, pulling up his arm so that you had a good look at his throat. The bob of his Adam’s apple as he sipped it down. 

You uncrossed and then re-crossed your legs, your thighs burning in the most unholy way. It settled low in your belly, echoing throughout your core. Nasty thoughts filled your brain. Thoughts you did not need to think about this man that was only sipping a drink.

He nodded his approval and the waiter asked if you were ready to order. Kevin motioned for you to go first, so you ordered the lasagna. Kevin ordered the same thing and then the waiter took your menus.

There was no more armor against Kevin and his attractive smile. “So, what made you agree to a blind date?” You asked. As you tried to steer your thoughts to safer territory, you couldn’t imagine a man as fine as him still remaining single.

“My job doesn’t exactly lend itself to a standard schedule. Makes it hard to meet some folks,” he said. He settled back in his seat and twisted his glass in his hand. The glass looked tiny in comparison. 

You nodded. Claire already told you that Kevin was a cop, like Jay. You asked if it was tough dating a cop. She confessed that it was hard as hell because of the worry. Over the fact that he might not always walk back through the door. And that’s with someone white. Kevin is Black and that brought an extra layer of worry.

You asked if it was worth it. A stupid grin spread across her face. She told you that it was. She’d do it over and over again. Plus the handcuffs helped. 

“Especially someone that doesn’t automatically see you as a person,” you said. 

Kevin nodded. “I’ve had some tussles but I’m still here,” he said. Your eyes darted to his body, taking in his thick muscles and corded forearms. You had no doubt that it’d have to be something huge to strike down Kevin Atwater. 

“I’m glad you are. Okay, but seriously. Help me understand. How do you explain, all of that,” you said and waved to his whole body. “And no long term girlfriend.”

Kevn laughed. “I promise, it’s the job and just not vibing with anyone. There was nothing wrong with them, it just wasn’t there. But now you have to tell me something. How do you explain all of that,” he said and waved to your body. “And no one’s snatched you up yet.”

He smiled and rolled your eyes, refusing to laugh. “I find that some guys these days have to be still carrying around cavemen genes or something. It’s really bad out there,” you said and shivered. 

Truth was, it was incredibly hard to find someone that fit your brand of nasty. You loved sex. Had an insatiable appetite, practically thinking of it 24/7. But you also craved submission. You did so much every day, constantly finding the energy to breathe from second to second. Your work kept you down and your family was demanding. You had to keep up with friends and schedules and made hundreds of tiny decisions every day.

Mentally calculating what was too dressy, too girly, too boyish, too much, not enough. The last place you wanted to have control of was the bedroom. The last thing you wanted to do was order around a man in the sheets. 

Sometimes you just craved masculinity. You couldn’t define it but you’d know it when you see it. The way a man just went around being a man. Flexing muscles, taking up space, manspreading, protecting. What turned you on more was when a man was acting in defense of someone else. 

And it was hard to achieve that with men these days. Because they’d all reverted to primitive, banging on the drums type of seduction. One drink earned them the right to put their hands on your thighs. Buying you food was a ticket to second base. You couldn’t submit if you didn’t trust the fucker in charge of you. 

Glancing at Kevin though, masculinity poured off of him in waves. You wondered what it would be like to submit to him. To hand over your orgasms and watch him treat them with love and care.

Your pussy throbbed in response like she loved that idea. 

“Don’t tell me it’s that bad,” he said and cringed. You gave him a funny look. He shook his head and cursed. 

“Well on behalf of my gender, I’m very sorry. Then again, it brought us together,” he said. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes at you. You giggled.

“Okay, stop. You know what you’re doing!” You said.

“What am I doing?” He asked. His voice grew a little rougher and you gasped. 

“Looking at me like that,” you said. Your voice grew softer. 

“How am I looking at you?” He asked.

You were saved from answering by the waiter bringing you lasagna. One huge slice was placed in front of you, a sloppy square of dripping sauce and steam. Some of the edges were burned, the tomato sauce dark with spices. It smelled divine. 

Kevin grinned and looked down at his meal. He gave you a wink, like he was congratulating you on a good choice. But you waited until after the garlic bread was placed between you. He picked up his fork and cut a piece of the lasagna. 

Strings of cheese went with it and he rolled it around his fork. He brought it to his mouth and his juicy lips sucked up wayward sauce. You were treated to another sight of Kevin’s tongue on his lips. 

He chewed and then moaned, a low and deep sound erupting from his chest. Your pussy throbbed with the unexpected praise. You felt good to treat him to something you enjoyed. You got the same feeling when you introduced a new artist or song to someone. But nothing as visceral as pleasing Kevin. 

You finally bit into your own lasagna and closed your eyes, a moan escaping you involuntarily. You even did a little jig, as the food brought so many flavors to your mouth. Something savory with a tiny hint of sweetness. The cheese and noodles complementing each other so well. The meat soaked with the sauce that made you imagine ripened red tomatoes. Plump with flavor. 

You remembered where you were, on a whole ass date with a literal offering from the gods. You opened your eyes and looked at Kevin who sat still with adoration all over his face. Like he witnessed the most magnificent phenomenon and couldn’t make sense of it. 

You gave him a sheepish grin but he gave you a shimmy back. He turned it into a Black person acknowledging that the food was good. No words necessary. Just brown eyes meeting brown eyes. 

Conversation turned towards family as he talked about having to help his brother and sister after his dad went to prison. You nodded along, knowing that dance all too well. He glowed with pride as he talked about his siblings and how it was hard being their father and their brother. 

He admitted they fell into some drama some years ago, but they were all heading towards healing. He was sad for the childhood he lost, but he would do it all over again. You wondered what it would be like to be so positive like him and Claire. The way they saw the bullshit day in and day out and got completely opposite experiences than you. 

You tried not to be a storm cloud, shitting all over what came your way. You couldn’t help it. Negativity was safer. A constant hammer against your soft heart to try and harden you up. But you still had that need to empathize with everything and everyone. And so in the end, it hurt just the same.

You told him about your family and friends and how you came to know Claire. You asked about him and Jay working together and he said that they got off to a rocky start, but ended up being brothers on the other side of it.

You loved listening to him speak. The deep, whispery tone of his that instantly put you at peace and your core set to burning. You longed to hear that whispered in your ear while he did something disgusting to you later. 

Yeah, you’d already decided. You were taking this man home with you and you were going to hand him the reins. You hoped that he delivered. That his smooth and sexy interior matched the drop dead gorgeous exterior. 

You were needy with want. Wanting him. It was an insane thought. You’d only just met him. But his vibe put out someone trustworthy and you always trusted your instincts. 

Dinner flew by with more fascinating stories from Kevin. You delved into past relationships and laughed at each of his horror stories. You told some of your own and was mortified how you could be so blind at the time. 

You had a second glass of wine and he had more bourbon as you shared a dessert. The gelato was sweet and icy. You scooped some on your spoon and made a show of putting it in your mouth. Nothing outrageous, just something to tease him with. 

He lowered his eyes to your mouth and you felt desired. You felt settled in your body. It was a heady feeling and you knew that it had all to do with Kevin. Once he paid the check, absolutely refusing you when you told him that you should pay since you suggested the restaurant. 

You walked outside into frosty Chicago. No matter the time of year, it was a bitter place to be. The wind howled around your shins. You brought your coat closer around your neck. Kevin walked you to your car. 

You didn’t have to walk so close together. He didn’t have to reach an arm out to keep your balance on low heeled shoes. Yet, your shoulders constantly bumped into his and his arm casually went around your shoulders. 

You talked and laughed, dreading every inch of sidewalk you covered. You didn’t want to leave him but you didn’t know how to transition from this date to taking off his pants. When you got to the car on the driver’s side, Kevin smiled at you. You smiled back.

He stepped forward, pushing into you. You walked backwards until your back hit the side of the car. He pinched your chin, bringing your face closer to his. His eyes never left yours while he tilted his head.

“Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this,” he said. His lips brushed against yours and you sighed. You wanted to whimper. 

“I feel it too,” you whispered.

“Come home with me then. Follow me home,” he said.

“I’ll follow you,” you promised. You’d follow him anywhere. This was the most radical thing you’d ever done in your life. Going home with a man after one date? The scandal of it all would turn your friends’ heads. Not to mention, they’d tease the fuck out of you about your blind date going well.

He smiled against your lips, lightly pressing in. He tasted like the bourbon he drank with a hint of pasta. It was a delicious spicy and savory mix that made you lean in for another one. He gave you a brief kiss and then pulled back. 

“I’ll see you there,” he said. He opened your car door behind you, smiling at you, and then tucked you in. You put on your seatbelt and he closed the door with a tap. He finally headed down the street to his own car. You started your car and pulled into the street. 

The blast of warm air from the heater was just what you needed. Except it’d probably make you sweat harder between your thick thighs. You needed his hands there already, spreading your legs so he could look his fill. You could picture it all so well. So vivid. 

He pulled out into the street and you followed him to his place. To his credit, he didn’t speed up or take close lights so that you couldn’t follow. He put his blinker on way ahead of time so you didn’t have to scramble after him.

He led you to a corner building that seemed to be an apartment. The faded blue blended well into the dark night, reflecting the stars above. You found available parking and then got out of your car, looking for Kevin.

He walked down the street to you, collecting you from your car with that wide grin of his. His breath fogged into the night time and you smiled. You took your purse with you. You wrapped your hand around his forearm and he led you to the front door. 

Inside, the place was as cramped as the rest of Chicago, yet roomy enough that you felt like you could breathe. The inside was nice. There was no peeling paint or stained walls. All of the lights worked and there was a first aid kit inside the doorway. You smiled at Kevin. He told you that he bought a building and planned on getting it fixed up. Something to fall back on after he was done with the force.

He led you to his apartment on the first floor and in the back. His apartment was well decorated in dark tones of mahogany and deep steel blue. There was brick on some walls and it all fit with his dark furniture. It was clean and homey at the same time.

There were sweet smelling candles on the coffee table and newspapers beside at a safe distance. He had a record player next to his TV and a rack of vinyl records underneath it. He turned on ambient lights, enough to set the mood without it being sleazy.

He took your coat off and then his own, hanging it on a rack behind the door. You couldn’t walk two feet forward before he grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall. He thumbs rubbed your hips back and forward. 

He hummed and moved his body closer so that from the chest down, there wasn’t an inch of space to be found. He was so tall. So imposing. So incredibly taller than you that your brain melted.

“I can give you the tour now or later. If it’s now, you’ll take your clothes off for every room we visit. If it’s later, it’s straight to my bedroom but I take my time,” he said. 

Your body shivered. You were paralyzed with indecision. You wanted to do both. At the same time. You bit your lip, thinking about which you wanted more.

Kevin smiled. “Now it is. The foyer counts as a room,” he said. 

You giggled because his “foyer” opened directly into the kitchen and living room. But you took off one shoe and Kevin smiled. He moved you into the kitchen. “The kitchen,” he said. 

He smelled so good, his natural scent filling the room since you were no longer outside. The kitchen was clean, dishes put away and a healthy row of seasonings. He knew his way around a kitchen.

You took off your other shoe, teasing him by technically following the rules. Just because you wanted to submit didn’t mean you couldn’t put up a fight. He took your hands and led you to the living room, his stormy gray couches made lighter by the few throw pillows. He turned on the light in the hallway, and led you to the bathroom. Your dress fell from your shoulders, around your hips, and down your legs. The shimmery material tickled your skin. 

He showed you the bathroom. You were already wet from the timbre of his voice. Giving him a strip show and delaying the pleasure only made you unbearably wet. There was a particular ache in your pussy that you needed filled as soon as possible. 

You glanced around the bathroom, his enormous shower. You took off your bra, sliding it from your shoulders and looking at him from behind your shoulder. He leaned against the doorway, filling it completely. He blocked out most of the light behind him and sucked in the warm light in his bathroom. 

He had a lean to his wide hips and a hand on his belt. The other was above his head. He scratched his head as his eyes looked over your body. “Turn around,” he ordered.

You did as he said, turning around so that he could see your body. He walked closer, eyes straight to your breasts. Your breathing increased, watching him look at your body and find you appealing in so many ways. 

He stopped in front of you and leaned down, planting a kiss to each breast. He hummed low in his throat. “I almost can’t make it one more room,” he said.

You grinned. You took his hand while he brought you to his room finally. It definitely looked like him. Nice, clean, but an air of feeling lived in. He had photos of his siblings in his room, some artwork, and his huge bed. It had to be two king sized beds put together. Or maybe it was just your imagination. But you knew that he was tall as hell so he needed a bed big enough.

It was the final room. Kevin led you further in, half closing the door. He trailed a finger across your shoulders as he walked into the room, taking off his green button up. He stood in a blank tank underneath. 

Next went his jeans. He kicked off his shoes and then tugged the rest of his pants off. Now he had dark gray briefs and a black tank on. He looked like the poster child on the packages men’s underwear came in. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed and beckoned you to come closer. You walked closer, the natural swing in your hips making you feel powerful even though you were handing yourself over to this man. 

It felt naughty. It felt kinky. You finally found someone who could help turn your brain off. Someone who made you so hungry with desire that you didn’t notice anything else. You stopped in front of him. 

“Panties,” he said.

A small word but a physical effect on you. You trembled with need while you slipped your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and tossed them to the side. Kevin’s gaze drifted down your body, stopping at the juncture of your legs. 

Kevin crooked his finger and then you stepped forward, straddling his thick thigh. You whimpered at the pressure to your clit. Kevin grinned, gripping your ass and putting you in the spot he wanted. Somewhere between his knee and his hip, where you were perfectly balanced.

“Let me watch you give yourself pleasure,” he said. It wasn’t a question. More like a soft plea wrapped in a demand. He deferred to your choices while still taking charge. You nodded.

You put your hands on his shoulders and gyrated on his leg, rubbing your pussy on his thigh. He had coarse hair there, but it only served as an extra bit of friction against your pussy. You whimpered more, finding a rhythm that rubbed against it well. 

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he said, that whispery tone tugging on a muscle in your leg. It jumped as you moved your body back and forth. 

You opened your eyes and stared into his while you got yourself off on his thigh. He had one hand on your ass, squeezing every so often while you whimpered and whined. “Come on, let me see you let loose,” he whispered.

You whimpered more, getting closer to the sound of his voice. “Let me see it. Let go,” he continued.

You gripped his shoulders and squeezed your legs, so impossibly close. You gave one final sigh before you did explode, cumming on his thigh. You twitched and jerked, cries escaping from you. 

“Hmm, cum so pretty,” he mused. 

He brought his hand down between your legs, spreading your arousal on his fingers. He moaned at how you soaked his thigh. He rubbed your clit before pushing his fingers inside of you. His fingers searched inside while he brought his lips to yours.

He treated you with a tender but scorching kiss. The kind that made you curl your toes. He nibbled on your bottom lip. You cried out as he rubbed against a deep part inside of you. He flicked his fingers a few more times and you knew that he found your sweet spot.

He mercilessly rubbed it while you sputtered and moaned. You clung to him, hands fisting his tank top. “Shh, don’t fight that shit. Cum again for me,” he said. 

You huffed in a delicious, torturous pain. You were trying. You didn’t mean to fight it, only that you were so turned on. You were afraid that you’d rip apart at the seams and never find a way back to your body.

But you continued to look into his drunken eyes, kissing along your mouth. Till it turned sloppy. Till you couldn’t keep your eyes open a second longer. You felt your orgasm approaching once more. You were still nervous, but there was no holding this one back.

You gave up the fight, letting the orgasm wash over you. You were right. It tore you into tiny shreds. You cried out, twitching in his lap. His other arm came around to hold you still while he continued to finger fuck you.

Your legs shook on him while you rode an intense high. You never wanted to come back down. Reluctantly, you did. Kevin slowed his fingers and then finally brought them to your lips. He painted your lips with your cum and you smelled yourself.

Your pussy clenched and Kevin grinned. He kissed you, licking your essence and sharing it with you. Your tongues mixed and danced. You clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck. 

You made out for some time. Felt like an eternity. Like you spent thousands of years kissing him and it was enough to sustain you. You began gyrating on his leg again. So fucking insatiable for a man of his size.

He pulled back slowly, keeping your lips pressed together for as long as he could. “Never gon’ get sick of that,” he said. “Now I wanna taste it.”

He made you stand up. Then he stood up himself, once more dazzling you with his height. He pushed you onto the bed and commanded you to open your legs. He palmed himself, adjusting his thick bulge, and then climbed onto the bed. He pushed you to the middle so that he had enough room to lay down.

He stared at you while he lowered his mouth to your pussy. The swipe of his tongue made you cry out. You came twice already, both times you jumped out of your skin. But you were greedy for another one. Rewarding him with moans every time he made you feel good.

You couldn’t contain them. He made out with your pussy. Licking before suckling your pussy with his juicy lips. You moaned, grabbing his head and pushing him deeper. He brought his fingers up to finger you again, spearing you with his thick digits. 

“Oh, Kev–” you moaned. “Kev!” 

“Say my name again,” he moaned against your pussy.

“Kevin!” You obliged, thighs tingling. You tensed, eyes rolling to the back of your head. This orgasm was another intense one. Robbing you of breath and sight. You lost control of your body as you spasmed on his tongue. Kevin moaned while he sucked up your essence. 

He stood up, and pulled his fingers from your pussy. He sucked on his fingers and moaned, winking at you. He pulled off his tank and then his briefs went next. His gold chain glinted in the low light. He gathered up some of your slick, rubbing the length of his humongous dick with it.

He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken. Long and thick, he had been hiding an entire monster all night. 

“I’m clean,” he groaned, yanking on his meat. You whimpered, following the motion.

“I am too. I’m on birth control,” you said. It was your turn to wink at him. 

“Let me fill that pussy up then,” he said, groaning as his hand moved quicker. He stopped long enough to gather more, playing with your pussy before leaning back to rub the tip of his dick. 

“Fill me up, Kev,” you begged and laid down. 

He gripped your legs and pushed them over his elbows. He hauled you closer and you yelped. Being manhandled sent a shiver down your spine. He spread your legs wider and then guided himself to your entrance. 

You pushed your hand against his chest as he began to breach. He was so big. If it hadn’t been for the foreplay, this would hurt even more. He chuckled. “You can take me,” he promised.

He pushed against your hand and feeble attempt to slow him down. You hissed as he pushed inside slowly, pulling out and then pushing back in. You grew wetter around him and he groaned as it became easier for him to stroke.

He began to move his hips, rolling into the stroke and you hissed with more pleasure. He filled you up completely, taking him just like he said you would. 

Your teeth chattered as you stared into his eyes, a look of sweet pain on your face, you were sure. You began to whimper, a growing storm deep inside. “I know, I know,” he cooed, continuing to stroke that long dick of his. 

You cried out, his dick hitting your sweet spot. His mushroom head glided against your inner walls and you scrambled for something to hold onto. Your hands found his forearms.

“Kev–” you cried, not enough breath to form his full name. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead. 

“Be good for me and cum on this dick,” he commanded. 

You bounced on his dick, wetter by the second. He groaned as you slid easily on his dick. “Cum on this dick, cum on this dick,” he chanted over and over, his harsh breath fanning across your heated, sweaty skin. 

“I’m–, oh fuck I’m–” You groaned, throwing your head back while you came. You squeezed the hell out of his dick, holding on for dear life.

Kevin groaned on top of you, his strokes having to slow down while you came. “Fuck, pussy feel even better,” he said. He kissed your forehead again and panted. 

He was still stroking, getting stronger with each slide. “One more,” he pleaded.

Fuck! You couldn’t! It’d been a while since someone tore your ass up. Your solo adventures never quite getting you there that many times. However, underneath Kevin, you felt another stirring. This one was quick. You felt it coming and yet you felt like it’d snuck up on you. 

You convulsed on his dick with loud, whimpering cries. Broken and estranged sounds escaping you. 

Kevin moaned, dropping his sweaty head to your chest. His lips found your nipples and he sucked on them, alternating every so often until they were hard little buds. He kissed along your neck and shoulder, stroking deeper at the closer contact.

You moaned, nails digging into his back. He moaned in your ear while his strokes increased. As if he had been holding himself back earlier and now he could let loose. Now his strokes could turn sloppy and desperate. 

“Finna nut,” he moaned.

“Nut in me, Kev. Please, please,” you begged.

“Beg for this nut,” Kevin hissed, pressing his lips to yours. When he pulled back, you sniffled.

“Please Kev. Please nut in me,” you begged.

Kevin groaned, leaning up slightly and climaxing. Hot pulses of cum filled you and your body jerked, feeling the warm length of him inside you. Kevin pushed his hips in like he was trying to keep his cum inside. Let it soak deep into your pussy.

Kevin’s lips found yours in a sloppy, messy pattern and you licked at his lips, completely spent. He grinned and finally pulled out of you. You moaned as his cum slipped out too. Kevin lowered your legs, pushing them open so he could watch himself drip out.

Satisfied, he gave you a final kiss on the forehead. You sighed, settling into his bed like you were settling against a cloud. He returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth and cleaned you off. He put it back into his bathroom and then he crawled into bed, turning off the lights beside him.

He was warm, impossibly so. Like a furnace all by his lonesome. You turned onto your side and he snuggled against your backside. “That was incredible, thank you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. 

“I should be thanking you,” you said, with a small chuckle. 

He began to nibble on your ear. “Stay tonight. So I can wake you up to my fingers between your legs,” he whispered in your ear. 

“I can’t say no to that,” you said. You didn’t know the proper etiquette for a one night stand. Were you supposed to dip? Were you supposed to stay? One night stand implied that you weren’t going to see him ever again.

But you wanted to keep seeing him. You wanted to experience this over and over again. The way he established control but still gave you plenty of chances to back out. You didn’t have to make major decisions and didn’t have to worry about anything but receiving pleasure. You were thoroughly hooked and needed far more than that.

“Maybe I should feed you some dick. See how well your mouth takes it. If it’ll be anything like your pussy,” he said. 

Your pussy clenched with his filthy words. Somehow lulling you to sleep. You were incredibly warm. He pulled the covers over you, trapping you with all his heat. 

“So many things I wanna do. Maybe I should tie your hands behind your back and face fuck you until I cum all over that gorgeous face,” he said.

You moaned softly, tiny gasps that filled the quiet space. “Please,” you whispered. You didn’t know what you were begging for. A break? You had so many orgasms tonight, you lost count. More? You couldn’t survive another one at the moment, but fuck it. If you passed out, then you just passed out. 

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said. You fell asleep with a goofy grin on your face.

Need more Kev in your life? The Secret Kevin Atwater Files

[astarionz]

i was complaining about being depressed this morning but i left work just now and i feel way better. i think i needed human interaction 😭 my 3 day work week is killing me

[drak3n]

BANKER!KENTO

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, slow burn, coworkers to lovers trope, reader is whipped for nanami, smut, office sex, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied) cum-eating

sena’s note: i will never get over my hubby :(

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ BANKER!KENTO who recently moved back to tokyo after having spent some time in malaysia; who came back as a well-rested, new man (& even more handsome with a nice tan)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who had absolutely no interest in socializing with his coworkers and making friends at his new job and whose one and only goal was to survive his shifts and leave

➩ BANKER!KENTO who didn’t think he’d meet a person who hated work as much as he did until he saw you nearly ripping your hair out in your office through the glass door

➩ BANKER!KENTO who you got teamed up with to do the annual financial statement together to present to the entire team; and you couldn’t be more nervous to approach the blonde

➩ BANKER!KENTO who approached you instead and asked if you should just split the tasks up and present them together in the end, because he assumed you didn’t want to interact with him

you blinked up at the tall man while he leaned over your desk. what?

“come again?” embarrassingly, you hadn’t listened to what he said. his forearms just looked so buff and he had no damn business rolling the sleeves of his perfectly ironed, blue shirt up to his elbows—

“—me which part you prefer and i’ll do the other.”

fuck. what did he say? you couldn’t ask him to repeat it once more. he’d think you were a dumbass. what was the best way to get out of this situation without completely busting it?

“yeah, sure!” your response was weird and overly enthusiastic, and you were never happier to be sitting at this desk. you wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do with your arms and legs, or frankly, yourself, if you were standing.

totally missing the look of disappointment on nanami’s face — which he covered by clearing his throat and collecting himself again quickly — you spent the next few seconds looking at each other.

did he have something on his face? had he forgotten a splotch of shaving foam on his chin or cheek? or did he have a coffee stain on his shirt? your gaze was making him wonder.

“you can choose your part, then,” he muttered, hinting at the stack of papers that had been given to you and kento. oh now it made sense… of course he wouldn’t want to meet up to get this done together. obviously.

“uh, i could do the statistics and the powerpoint.” this time it was you hiding how disheartened you were, and he had no idea.

➩ BANKER!KENTO who, as time passed, grew fond of the way you carried yourself so gracefully; how you always kept a clear head (except for in the confines of your office where you liked ripping and crumpling papers instead of shoving them into the file shredder)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who actually enjoyed doing the annual closure exposure with you on christmas eve and watched as you stayed behind to tidy up

➩ BANKER!KENTO who silently joined you, much to your surprise as it was well-known already that he didn’t like staying for longer than he had to

“oh, kento, i’ll take care of it. just go enjoy your christmas eve.”

he grunted, throwing the plastic cups into the nearest trash can while you collected the leftover cookies, placing them into a tin. “don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked out of interest, to which he shook his head. you smiled. “me neither.”

as you left through the backdoor, wrapped up in thick coats, gloves and scarfs, you noticed that it had started snowing. you wanted to ask him if he was up to come over to yours and have dinner together — perhaps not your usual pompous family christmas dinner, but takeout — and then watch a sappy movie with two mugs of hot cocoa… but you didn’t.

ironically, he thought the same, but he couldn’t get the worst past the lump in his throat.

instead, you seperated after a couple of feet, wishing each other a merry christmas and cursing yourselves why you didn’t speak up.

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose fingers hovered over your contact information a day before new year’s eve; who knew you two would probably spend that day alone, too, and who thought it wouldn’t be worth it to make the effort of roasting an entire duck just for himself

➩ BANKER!KENTO who was beaten to it when you called him instead

“hey, kento.” you said, and he could hear your soft smile. “i was wondering if you uh… would like to come over for new year’s eve? i was going to… bake a cake, and it would be a waste to just eat it all by myself and have to chuck the rest in the trash...”

as you chuckled awkwardly, you didn’t have the slightest clue that nanami sent a smile of victory towards the duck in his fridge and a bottle of red wine resting on his kitchen counter. as if he had gotten caught, he quickly coughed.

“yes, i’d like that,” he muttered into the speaker, which made you cover your speaker to let out a joyous squeal. “do you like roasted duck?”

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose eyes went wide at the sight of you in a dress, elegant as always, but less formal; who felt the need to loosen his tie, sweating despite the freezing temperatures outside as you pulled him into a hug after taking the pan from his arm

➩ BANKER!KENTO who never thought much of others complimenting his cooking, but who felt giddy as you swooned, asking him about all the ingredients and expressing how you’d never eaten a meal as delicious as his in your entire life

➩ BANKER!KENTO who wanted to excuse himself minutes before new year’s eve, but who let himself get dragged to your balcony to watch the fireworks, and who let out a sound of surprise as you pulled him down gently by his now loosened tie to smooch him breathless

“darling, what if someone sees?” nanami sat back in his chair and let out a shaky sigh when his dark eyes darted to the door, before settling on you, hidden right behind his desk as you sat on your knees, unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“you’ve been pressing against me every time you walked past me today, kento.” your eyes were laced with need as you took his thick, hard cock out of its restraints. “didn’t you want this?” the blonde gritted his jaw when your thumb knowingly rubbed against his slit, smearing precum all over the reddened tip.

“you don’t know what you do to me, love…” he couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips into your mouth, not when you took him so well and sucked him so nicely. it was almost as if you were asking him to shoot his cum down your throat when your eyes met.

you greedily swallowed every bit of it when he did, tucking him back inside and dusting your skirt off, acting as if nothing happened. when you shot him a coy smile and attempted to leave his office, he grasped your wrist in his hand, uncaring if anyone saw or not at this point.

“w—what are you—”

“did you think i missed the way you rubbed your thighs together the entire time? sit on the desk, let me reward my lovely girl.”

➩ BANKER!KENTO who now had someone to spend all holidays with, and who he didn’t even mind working overtime with :)

tagged: @melancholia-k @tansyfleurwhisper

[aliensupastar]

not wrong, but not right

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.

Part II Part III

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?

A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3

All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 

Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 

You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 

“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.

“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 

You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 

Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 

“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”

“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 

Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 

When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.

It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 

You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 

Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 

Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 

When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 

“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 

“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”

You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 

“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 

“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.

It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 

You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 

When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 

You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 

Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 

“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 

The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 

Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.

You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 

You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 

“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 

“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.

“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 

“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.

“Because-“ 

“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 

You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 

“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  

“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 

You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 

“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.

“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 

“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 

He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 

“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 

He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 

“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. 

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 

You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 

“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 

“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 

“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 

“I’m okay with that.”

[ahonice]

not my boyfriend

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 9.6k (the google doc was forty pages long idk what happened i got carried away)

warnings: jokes about dying/being killed, drinking, mentions of harassment (none actually happens though, just a topic discussed.) cursing, party games, lots of fighting that could’ve been avoided, VERY unrealistic scenarios and timelines lol, reader is stubborn for no reason and pisses me off (sorry)

note: this takes place during luke’s first full season as a devil. also idk how season tickets work with the devils so... hope y’all enjoy, leave feedback and lmk what you think, love y’all babes <3!!!

+++

growing up in newark meant you were a devils fan by default. which wasn’t a bad thing, your father was a season ticket holder and often took you to games with him as you were the only one of your siblings who was still living at home.

you were the youngest of five, all others being boys, and the university you attended was only a five minute drive from your house so instead of moving into the dorms you continued to live at home. 

at each game you always wore unmarked jerseys, shirts, and hoodies. no number or last names on any of them, you weren’t a big enough fan to have a jersey that branded you so you stayed content with your blank ones. 

+++

it was the home opener for the devils and your father dragged you, along with all your brothers, out to attend the game with him. he managed to get tickets right behind the devils bench this year, you didn’t even want to know how much money he had to spend to get them. 

“dad isn’t this a bit much? the game is going to be the exact same if we were sitting in our normal seats, two levels above.” you asked him once everyone was situated and comfortable in their seats.

“oh shut up y/n, these seats are great and who knows maybe you’ll catch the eye of a cute hockey player and you can live out your trophy wife fantasies.” your brother, who was sitting two seats down from you, teased.

“shut up david.” you said reaching over your other brothers to hit him, which you did…three times.

“would you two cut it out, you’re attracting a crowd.” your father scolded.

he was right, not only were a few people sitting behind you watching, but so were a couple people on the bench in front of you.

you groaned in embarrassment and hid your face in your brother gavin’s shoulder. 

“kill me gav, kill me.” your voice was muffled.

“number forty three is staring pretty hard right now y/n.” gavin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

you shot your head up and made, brief, eye contact with a boy who looked around your age before he quickly looked away. another player, who looked just a little older than you, laughed at him before giving you a wink.

“i’m serious gavin, shoot me right here.” you said, pointing between your eyes. “like i’m a horse that just broke it’s leg.”

+++

after the game you went to dinner with your family before you parted ways. you had picked up your coworkers shift because he had a family emergency and wasn’t able to come in. during the summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college you attended bartending school. you thought that working in the night life industry, especially as a young attractive woman, that you would be getting a lot of money in tips.

and you were correct.

your grandparents were covering your tuition, and since you were living at home there were no room and board charges, but you did have a car to pay for, books and school supplies, as well as an addiction to shopping that you had to support. so the job really was great.

it was a nice cocktail, lounge, styled bar. lots of business meetings took place, and overall upper class patrons were the ones who would visit. it wasn’t rare that local celebrities would stop by, or new yorkers wanting a lower tax on their tequila sunrise. so when a few people on the new jersey devils roster walked in, nobody was surprised. 

“y/n i’ll take bottle service for them tonight if you cover my side of the bar while i’m out? we can split their tip 70/30.” your coworker brian suggested after seeing them all make their way towards the private section, meaning they would not be ordering drinks themselves like all the other people in the establishment. 

“60/40, it’s a saturday night brian.” he rolled his eyes before agreeing, making his way over to the group as you began writing down tickets.

with brian gone you were now the only one behind the bar, it being a busy saturday night you didn’t really have any time to yourself. constantly getting new orders, or people confused why you needed their card to open a tab, you weren’t really planning on taking a break anytime soon. 

“what can i get you?” you asked whoever sat in the seat across from where you were currently fulfilling orders. you didn’t look up to properly acknowledge the customer, but you know they heard you because your question was quickly followed by a long “uhhhhh” before you placed the drinks you had been working on infront of their respective owners.

“while you uhhhh on that, i’m gonna go help customers that know what they want.” you didn’t really mean to be so rude, but you didn’t have time to provide good customer service.

“wait!” you had barely turned around before the customer stopped you. “i’m sorry, it’s just that i am not twenty one, so i don’t know what i can order here.”

“you’re not old enough to drink? how the hell did you get in? because if you used a fake i’m sorry but i’m gonna have to cut it.” you finally looked up from the glasses in front of you to see who exactly you were speaking with. he looked familiar, you couldn’t figure out where you knew him from. probably just a student you’ve seen around campus.

“no it’s nothing like that. i’m here with some of my teammates.” he nodded his head towards the private section where you could see brian making them drinks.

you looked back at his face again before the realization hit you.

“you were the player staring at me earlier.”

“you were the girl that slapped her brother in front of everyone earlier.”

you blushed at his recollection of you, he blushed at yours as well. 

“guilty.” you both said at the same time, causing some laughs to let out before the moment was interrupted by some people on the other side of the bar yelling that they wanted their drinks.

“i’ll be back in a little bit, sorry.” you apologized to the boy before turning to start making the drinks that the customers had ordered nearly five minutes ago, audibly groaning at the line that was forming all around the bar and the amount of people now entering.

+++

it ended up being nearly thirty minutes before the rush of orders you had gotten was cleared and you had time to go back to where that boy was sitting. you weren’t surprised that he was no longer there, but you were disappointed. 

you decided to take the rare break to your advantage and poured yourself a glass of apple juice, savoring the taste before you brought your attention towards the group in the back. brian must’ve really been working for those tips because you had never seen a group so entertained in your life. 

making eye contact with the boy, you smiled as he stood up from his seat, excusing himself from the group being met with a smirk from the guy he was sitting next to, who you recognized as the one who winked at you earlier.

“you know you guys are paying for bottle service, you don’t have to come up to the bar to order drinks. it’s kinda what it was made for.” you said once the boy had sat down in the seat he was in just an hour before.

“i know, but i don’t want the guys to make fun of me for ordering orange juice.”

“are you assuming that i wouldn’t make fun of you? because i would, and i will. i’m team apple juice.” you said, raising your glass filled with apple juice, into the air. 

“can’t drink on the job?” 

you laughed at how stupid of a question that was, just because you worked as a bartender doesn’t mean you have no decorum. “ couldn’t even if i wanted to, i’m nineteen.” 

“oh so you’re my age, well a year younger.” he smiled to himself. “i’m twenty.”

you nodded at his words, too busy closing out a tab to respond.

“how can you work here though? if you’re nineteen. don’t you have to be twenty one?” he asked.

“no, you need to be eighteen to serve alcohol in the states.” you responded, not even looking up.

“got it.” he trailed off, it quickly became awkward as you were too busy to give him the attention he was obviously looking for. “i’m luke by the way, don’t think i told you my name yet.”

“i’m y/n, but i’m pretty busy right now so maybe you could go back to your table. i don’t mean to be rude, but i can’t spend my whole shift talking to you and not working.” you told him, noticing the long line that was beginning to form again.

“oh yea of course, sorry. umm i’ll see you around.” luke said, getting up.

you didn’t respond and just walked over to the other side of the bar where the people who had been waiting the longest were.

luke sighed before walking back over to his group.

“what’s the matter lukey? couldn’t impress the hot girl by ordering an orange juice.”

“shut up jack.”

+++

it was only five days later that your father was bringing you along to another devils game and once again you got dressed in your unnamed jersey and a pair of leggings. you had work right after, having taken the closing shift tonight so you would be able to enjoy the game for at least an hour and a half before you would have to go.

“dad please tell me we aren’t in those seats again. you don’t need to be wasting your money like that, our usual seats are just fine.” you spoke as you followed your dad through the arena.

“sweetie, it is my money to spend and i wanted this. i never miss a home game, all of the money spent is being spent for good use.” you father responded, making his way down towards the glass. 

you had arrived after warm ups were finished so now you were just waiting for the game to actually start. playing a game on your phone, you were easily pulled into a trance and didn’t even realize that the players had made their way onto the ice until your father nudged you.

“y/n would you pay attention? the boy is looking at you again.” your head shot up at his words and you quickly made eye contact with the boy from last week, luke. 

he waved at you before turning around before you even had the chance to wave back.

“that was weird.” you said, not to anyone in particular, but you weren’t aware of your volume because that same guy that winked at you began laughing and pushed luke who was visibly blushing.

+++

“can i get an orange juice? on the rocks.” 

you turned around to see number forty three smiling at you, his hand behind his neck in an awkward stance.

“luke.”

“y/n.”

“is your group here today? we didn’t get any mentions of bottle service being needed tonight.”

“yeah, it was a last minute thing. i asked if we could come to this bar instead of the one we had planned on going to.”

“why? because the orange juice is that good?”

“without a doubt.” 

you laughed at his words before looking over at your coworker. 

“do you wanna do bottle service tonight? or should i?”

“i’ll do it. the general manager is here tonight and you know how she gets when it’s a group of men getting bottle service.” 

“got it, thank you brian.”

you looked back to see luke staring at you confused.

“why doesn’t she like men getting bottle service?”

“it’s not that, there have just been a few too many cases of us having to kick people out because of their behavior towards female bartenders.” 

“has that ever happened to you?” his voice suddenly angry, causing you to look at him funny.

“cool it casanova.” you laughed, ignoring his question because you have. that’s just what comes with a job in the night life industry though. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you around luke.” 

dejected, luke made his way to where his teammates were sitting.

“did you fuck up again?” 

“yes…? i honestly don’t know.”

+++

it had been two weeks since that night.

you hadn’t been able to make it to any of the devils games due to coming down with a bug, also causing you to miss school and work. it definitely wasn’t ideal considering it was nearly thanksgiving break, which meant it was nearly finals week. but you couldn’t complain, it was always nice to do nothing but binge watch investigation discovery and drink yellow gatorade all day.

“dad can i come with you to the game tonight? my fever is gone and i haven’t been sick in three days. i need to get out of the house badly.” you asked your father once he made it home from work.

“sure sweetie. i’m planning on leaving in half an hour, i want to make it to warm ups tonight.”  he replied, shuffling through the mail.

“got it dad, i’ll go get ready.”

+++

you quickly got ready for the game. deciding that you wouldn’t wear any makeup tonight, your eyelash extensions were enough to carry the rest of the face. tying your hair into a braid, you got dressed in an unmarked devils hoodie and leggings before throwing your shoes on.

“dad i’m ready if you wanna leave a little earlier.” you called out from upstairs, spraying your perfume on.

“sounds good hun, i’ll meet you in the car.” 

you were really excited for tonight's game, mainly because this was your first outing in civilization in nearly fourteen days, but a little part of you was excited to see luke again. 

a little part of you was afraid he had forgotten who you were, as you had only interacted a handful of times. 

a loud honk ripped you from your thoughts as you could hear your father yelling from outside.

“i’m about to leave without you y/n.”

+++

you sat in your seat playing on your phone as you anxiously waited for the game to start

“what’s got you so jittery?” your father asks, noticing your legs bouncing. “does it have anything to do with number forty three?”

your eyes widened at the second question that came from your father’s mouth.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you spoke defensively.

“well i thought i might ask because he has been staring at you since he got onto the ice.”

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you missed warmups beginning, and looking up you met luke’s eyes.

you gave him a smile and a small wave, which he returned before number eighty six rammed into his shoulders and luke went back to what he was supposed to be doing.

+++

after the game you decided to tackle the large load of school work that had been piling up from your sick days.

you managed to spend a good three hours uninterrupted before your phone began ringing. you picked it up to see your general manager's contact shown on the screen. groaning you answered the call, hoping she wasn’t going to call you in because there is nothing worse than a friday night shift.

“hey y/n, i’m sorry to bother you but this boy is currently asking about you at the bar and i need to know if you know him or if i need to ban him from the property.” she spoke.

your eyes widened, a little scared because this wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve had creepy men asking about you on your nights off.

“what is his name?” you ask, you doubted it but there was a chance you did know him.

“luke hughes.” you heard him yell in the background.

“yes darlene, i know him. he is harmless, please let him leave the jail cell.” you joked, knowing for a fact she had him held captive in the office. 

“he wants your number.” she whispered.

“just give it to him, and seriously let him go. him and his teammates tip a lot.”

+++

from: *** *** ****

y/n?

from: *** *** ****

this is luke. 

from: *** *** ****

i’m a little nervous that your boss gave me a fake number just so i would leave her alone, so if you could respond that would be greatly appreciated.

to: *** *** ****

i’m sorry, but you’ve reached the rejection hotline. the person who gave you this number is not interested.

from: *** *** ****

lovely.

to: *** *** ****

i’m totally kidding.

to: *** *** ****

this is y/n lmao.

from: luke hughes

that is not funny.

+++

over the course of the weekend you and luke texted a lot. 

mainly just basic information. favorite food, tv shows, some random questions.

from: luke hughes

why do you wear blank jerseys?

from: luke hughes

and blank everything else? you never have a name or number on you at games.

to: luke hughes

that’s just not something i’m into.

to: luke hughes

there isn’t a hockey player i like enough to wear their name or number.

that wasn’t entirely true. 

while you were a devils fan by default, you were a hurricanes fan and sebastian aho enthusiast by choice. 

you had multiple jerseys and shirts with his name and number all over them, but the devils only played the hurricanes on home ice a limited time each season so you weren’t able to break out your collection all that often. 

luckily for you, the hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center in five weeks and that was one of the only things you were truly looking forward to these days, as sad as that sounds.

+++

“the boy who keeps asking for you is here.” brian said to you as he entered the office. 

“what do you mean keeps? darlene just told me about the one time.” you responded, turning your attention off of the roblox game you were playing and towards your coworker.

“because i’ve only ever gotten darlene involved once. he kept asking for your schedule that night and i nearly called the cops.do you know how scared i was? not for you of course, just of the amount of paperwork and witness reports i’d have to deal with. did i ever tell you about the time that one psycho came in here with a butter knife and threatened–” 

“brian focus.” 

“right sorry. he has come in asking for you at least ten times now. if you want me to kick him out i will, i’ve been working out.” brian finished his rant by flexing his muscles, that weren’t even there.

“you’re 5’7 brian. no amount of muscle will make up for that.” you started, picking your phone up. “i’ve got it don’t worry, but thanks.”

to: luke hughes

are you stalking me?

to: luke hughes

because i will get a restraining order against you.

to: luke hughes

i don’t care how attractive you are.

from: luke hughes

so you think i’m attractive?

to: luke hughes

is that seriously all you got from that??

to: luke hughes

STOP BOTHERING MY COWORKERS !!!

from: luke hughes

will do.

from: luke hughes

as long as you agree to go out with me this week.

to: luke hughes

fine.

to: luke hughes

but only because i would like to go one night without my coworkers asking if they need to place your image on the blacklisted board.

from: luke hughes

yeah totally “only because”…

+++

“so you expect me to believe that after the game tonight you are going out with luke hughes. the rookie player for the new jersey devils?” your father asks.

“yes dad.” you deadpanned.

you had told him of your plans for after the game tonight forty minutes ago and he does not believe you in the slightest.

“what did you take for your migraine earlier?” he asks, chuckling. “oh no, did you get into my medicine cabinet? i’m pretty sure i bought those painkillers back in ‘eighty-nine.” 

“you’re hilarious. now can we leave please? warm ups are already almost over.” you said, unamused, while your father was bent over laughing at his stupid joke. “i’m going without you.”

“like hell you are.” he said, snapping up right and marching over to the front door. “if you are telling me the truth i have to meet this boy and talk to him…to ask him if you’re blackmailing him into this.”

he added that last part once he was already outside, you groaned as you heard him laughing from inside the car.

+++

to: luke hughes

i will be waiting in the car park after the game whenever you get out.

to: luke hughes

also my dad wants to meet you.

to: luke hughes

he says it’s because he needs to make sure i’m safe, but really he just thinks i’m lying to him about your existence in my life.

+++

“sweetie when is he coming? it is late and i’ve got work in the morning.” your father asks, for what feels like the hundredth time.

“dad, i’ve already told you that you can leave. i don’t need you here.” you replied, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“what if he kidnaps you? or kills you? he’s got money, he could cover it up in an instant.” he snaps his fingers when he said instant to emphasize his point.

“i would never do that sir.” a different voice cut in.

both you and your fathers heads whip around and you’re met with the sight of luke, looking very good in his suit.

“holy shit y/n you weren’t lying to me.” your dad says, walking up to where luke was standing to shake his hand. “let me tell you kid, i thought my daughter had lost her mind.” 

“dad. please stop.” you stated, annoyed at his behavior, finding a spot to stand next to luke. 

“right. sorry sweetie.” he said before turning his attention back towards luke. “have her home no later than midnight.” 

“yes sir.” luke stated, before your dad turned around and walked towards his car.

“so where are we going?” you ask. “you’re dressed like we’re going to a five star restaurant and i’m dressed like we’re going to a drive thru.” you explained, pointing to the major differences in your attire.

“i’ll meet you halfway.”

+++

“is it too late to tell you that i prefer qdoba?” you told luke as he pulled into the parking lot of a chipotle.

“i think i should take you home.” luke joked, before running around the car to open your door for you, slightly tripping in the process. 

“i should warn you though, i get queso and guac on my burritos.” you told him, knowing that he would be paying.

“what? that’s like an extra seven dollars.” he complains, holding the front door open for you to walk in.

“should’ve taken me to qdoba, it’s free there.” 

+++

the night went very well.

you and luke talked about anything and everything. 

it was fifteen minutes to midnight when luke pulled up in front of your house to say goodbye.

noticing that the lights were on, luke asked if your father really stayed up to see if he had brought you home on time.

“i can guarantee he is currently in his recliner and snoring.” you told luke before you both started walking up the porch steps.

“well i had lots of fun tonight. you should really send me a text whenever you’re bored at work, i can always use my celebrity status to get in while being underage.” luke said once you had made it to the front door.

“your C-list celebrity status?” you started.

“-oh come on, i’m a b-list at least.” he cut in.

“don’t you have better things to do than sit at a bar and drink orange juice?” you finished your thought.

“honestly no. i don’t have any friends in jersey that aren’t my teammates.”

“well if you ever want to go to a party or hang out with me and my friends you always can, just text me if you’re ever bored at home.” 

you said your proper goodbyes and once you stepped into your house you saw your father asleep in his recliner.

to: luke hughes

*image*

i told you he would be asleep. he would never know if we actually stayed out past curfew.

from: luke hughes

did you catch him mid snore in that photo? that’s honestly a violation.

+++

from: luke hughes

i’m bored.

to: luke hughes

what am i supposed to do about that?

from: luke hughes

😑😑😑

to: luke hughes

I’M KIDDING

to: luke hughes

do you not have a game tonight? because i’m planning on attending a frat party tonight if you would like to tag along.

to: luke hughes

unless you are now above frat parties after finishing school.

from: luke hughes

i’d love to join you.

to: luke hughes

great! i was planning on getting there at 10:30. do you just want to drive to my house? my friends are taking me btw and we could always just double buckle.

from: luke hughes

yea sure. what should i wear?

to: luke hughes

oh nothing too fancy just a tuxedo.

to: luke hughes

bowtie included.

from: luke hughes

i hate you.

+++

“will you all please promise to be nice to him and be on your best behavior? i think i actually like this one and i don’t him to be scared away.” you warned your friends who were currently in your room pregaming.

“hey don’t look at me, i’ll be nice as hell to your new boy toy.” your best friend, trinity, spoke. you rolled your eyes at her before looking at the boys who crowded on your floor.

“cal, bass, and tyler.” you spoke firmly, attempting to intimidate them. “i swear to god if any of you make him uncomfortable, all of my images and videos from syllabus week are getting posted on the main.”

“sir yes sir!” the three shouted in unison, only causing your eyes to roll back further into your head.

“just please be welcoming. talk to him, get to know him, do not force him to play rage cage if he does not want to.” you emphasized that last point at kade.

“if he doesn’t willingly play rage cage he isn’t the one for you y/n.”

you were about to make a snarky comment but were cut off by your phone going off.

from: luke hughes

hey i’m outside. should i knock or wait out here?

to: luke hughes

just come inside, front door is unlocked. 

to: luke hughes

we’re upstairs in my room, just follow the sound of shitty music. my friend bass has aux tonight.

you could feel the nerves bubbling up in your stomach. you hadn’t informed the group that your luke was luke hughes, they were all devils fans and were in the know about things so they definitely know who he is.

“he is coming upstairs right now, y’all i’m serious, best behavior.”

the sound of a knock made all five heads turn towards the door.

“no fucking way-”

“shut it!” you cut cal off. “hey luke, come in. there are shooters on my desk if you want something to pregame with. trinity is sober tonight so you don’t have to worry about driving.”

luke makes his way over to your dresser and grabs three shooters before making his way towards the spot next to you.

“everybody this is luke, luke this is everybody.” you motioned your hands back and forth. “tyler, cal, trinity, and bass.” 

you pointed to your friends, who were looking at the two of you with shock and disbelief on their faces, as you named them.

“let’s go to the party, i wanna play rage cage.” 

+++

“is bass your real name or is it just a nickname?” 

after arriving at the party you and your group established where trinity would be all night everyone started asking luke questions, the majority of them were about hockey and the nhl before you texted the groupchat and told them to shut their fucking mouths about his career.

“nickname. my name is sebastian, but this one-” bass grabs onto your shoulders and pulls you in front of him. “-says there is only one sebastian in her life and i am, unfortunately, not him so she started calling me bass and everybody else just latched onto it.”

you glared at him before speaking. “i was being sarcastic when i told you that, and you came up with the fucking nickname.”

“yeah, it’s not y/n’s fault you share a name with the love of her life and future husband.” tyler said, giggling after you hit his stomach.

“okay let’s go play rage cage, y’all need to shut up.” you said making your way outside, trinity informed everyone that she would stay in her spot and to text her if it is urgent. “luke do you play rage cage?”

it was an important question. 

sure most people favor cup pong or even flip up as a party game, but rage cage was what you and your friends dominated at every function.

“i have never played it before. haven’t even heard of it.” luke shrugged. 

everyone’s movements paused for a second before hell froze over.

“WHAT?”

“you’ve never heard of it?”

“what fucking school did you go to?”

“y/n get him out of my face.”

you weren’t even sure who said what, but luke had a slightly scared look on his face. 

“they’re joking luke, let me teach you how to play.”

+++

“so your future husband's name is sebastian? should i even continue pursuing you?” luke asked, jokingly, once you two were left alone in the backyard, tyler had drank one too many bitch cups and needed to be nursed back to health.

“i am most definitely not marrying him. he is six years older than me, lives hundreds of miles away, and also knows nothing of my existence.” you informed luke before finishing your drink. “you should definitely continue to pursue me.”

+++

from: luke hughes

are you coming to the game tonight?

from: luke hughes

i have a proposition for you, if you are.

to: luke hughes

i’m listening

from: luke hughes

you wear my jersey tonight, and in return i win the game.

from: luke hughes

it’s a win-win situation

to: luke hughes

yea for you. i get nothing out of it.

to: luke hughes

also i do not own a jersey with anyone’s name on it, let alone yours.

to: luke hughes

and you are NOT buying me one. if i want a jersey i will pay for it myself…or my father will.

from: luke hughes

fine.

from: luke hughes

but when you become my girlfriend you have to wear my jersey, no matter what.

to: luke hughes

okay, if i become your girlfriend i will wear your jersey.

from: luke hughes

not if, when.

to: luke hughes

i’ll see you tonight weirdo.

+++

“your boyfriend is waving at you.” 

“david shut up he isn’t my boyfriend.” you responded to your brother, shoving him.

you waved back at luke before his smile dropped and he pointed towards the jersey david was wearing. how you didn’t see the name and number on the back before? you didn’t know.

“are you seriously wearing luke’s jersey right now?” you placed your head in your hands knowing the conversation that would come of this. “he asks me to wear it before every home game and i never do, and now my own brother is wearing his jersey and not me.”

“why won’t you wear his jersey?” your brother asks, finishing off his beer. “-and don’t give me that bullshit answer of you never wear anyone’s jersey. you wear aho’s.”

“that’s because sebastian aho is sebastian aho.” you deadpanned. “there has never been a player, besides aho, that i have liked enough to wear their number. i’m not a fan of anyone…besides aho.”

“yeah, but luke’s your boyfriend.”

“oh my god he isn’t my boyfriend, do you ever listen to me? idiot.”

+++

“so your brother wears my jersey, but you don’t?” 

the sound of luke’s voice drew your attention away from the tab you were closing out at work. “i knew you were gonna show up tonight. remind me again why i decided to give you my schedule?”

“because i’m awesome.” luke answered, taking a seat in front of you. “-but of course not awesome enough for you to wear my jersey.”

“are we still on that?” you asked, handing luke a pop. 

“yes we are.” he stated blankly. “seriously i don’t understand why you won’t just wear my jersey. you said you didn’t want to pay for one, and that i couldn’t pay for one. but now that i know your brother has one i would very much appreciate it if you would wear it, to at least one game.”

“i’ll think about it.”

+++

your answer was no. that was three weeks ago and you still had yet to wear a jersey with the number forty three on the back.

tonight you were excited. 

the carolina hurricanes were playing the devils at the prudential center tonight and you and your friends all got seats behind the canes bench. none of them were canes fans, but this one the one game a year that you had the opportunity to sit near sebastian aho and you would be damned if you missed out on that opportunity. 

from: luke hughes

you coming tonight?

to: luke hughes

yeah.

to: luke hughes

so are trinity, bass, tyler, and cal.

from: luke hughes

oh great, i haven’t seen them in a bit.

from: luke hughes

are you guys going out after the game? it’s a friday night.

to: luke hughes

yes we are. cal’s frat is hosting this sport night thing if you wanna come with.

to: luke hughes

just bring a jersey to change into after the game.

from: luke hughes

oh crap i don’t own any jerseys.

to: luke hughes

you’re hilarious bud.

to: luke hughes

but just so you know i’m not sitting in my usual spot tonight. my brothers are sitting with my dad tonight.

+++

“no fucking way.”

that was the first thing you heard as you got in bass’ car.

“what?” you asked, everyone looked at you in disbelief.

“you are wearing aho’s jersey.” tyler replied, speaking for everyone in the car. “and you’re dating luke hughes.”

“i am not dating luke, you guys know that.” you deadpanned, you were getting sick and tired of people mistaking you for luke’s girlfriend. almost as much as you were sick and tired of not being luke’s girlfriend. “-and you also know that i am a loyal sebastian aho supporter before anything else.” you added the end in a lighter tone of voice. 

“alright, but when luke gets upset with you tonight you cannot be angry when we tell you we told you so.”

the rest of the car ride only one thing, a question, was on your mind, would he really get upset with you?

+++

“oh my god!”

“how many times are you gonna say oh my god tonight y/n?” trinity asked.

she had a point. it was like the only thing that was coming out of your mouth.

“never.” you deadpanned. “sebastian aho is right in front of me. my future husband is right in front of me.” you got more giddy by the end of your statement.

“oh wow y/n, you’re blushing.” cal poked your side. “that’s pathetic.”

“lover boy, two o’clock. does not look happy.”

you looked over to your right and saw luke looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, but bass was right, he did not look happy.

+++

“GOAL!” you screamed, shooting up from your seat. “SUCK IT DEVILS!”

“alright calm down y/n.” tyler said, laughing at you.

“NO! sebastian aho just scored his second goal of the night, if he gets one more i’m gonna lose it.” you replied, sitting back down.

“oh god you haven’t lost it yet?”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey! sorry about the game, you played great :)

to: luke hughes

if you do want to come to the party we’ll be at this is the address.

to: luke hughes

12345 house street

to: luke hughes

i hope to see you there.

“so is your boyfriend coming tonight?” cal asked. 

“not my boyfriend.” you started. “and i don’t know. i just texted him the address for him to meet us there if he wants.”

“ok. real talk,” trinity started. “do you want him to be your boyfriend?” 

“i do-”

you were cut off by the screaming of your four friends.

“shut it.” you snapped, effectively shutting them up. “i do want him to be my boyfriend, but i have no idea if he wants me to be his girlfriend. i mean we’ve known each other for three months and he has talked about us dating in the past but he hasn’t asked me out yet and i don’t know if he ever will.” 

“y/n don’t be like that. i can tell by the way he looks at you and acts around you that he likes you, a lot, and also he looked jealous as hell when he saw whose jersey you were wearing tonight.” bass said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

“okay enough with the pity party, lets go to the party. i need a drink.” 

+++

from: luke hughes

not really in the mood for a party tonight. 

to: luke hughes

oh ok. 

to: luke hughes

well i’ll see you soon, yeah?

“luke isn’t coming tonight.” you told the group, an upset look rested on your face.

“oh…well it’s probably nothing. i wouldn’t want to go out and celebrate a loss.” trinity said, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“ok i seriously need a drink now.” 

+++

it has been over a week since the game and luke hasn’t spoken to you once. 

all texts have been left unanswered, he hasn’t come to visit you at work, and when you were at the game two days ago he didn’t look at you once.

you were working the closing shift tonight, and it was a monday so it was not very busy. in the past you would text luke and he would arrive as soon as he could, but you stopped attempting to communicate with luke two days ago, after the game. he made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

“y/n, someone is at the bar asking for you.” you looked up from the wall you were staring at in the office to see brian. “not the usual one though. did you and your boyfriend break up?” 

you had a little bit of hope that it was luke for just a moment, before brian told you it wasn’t him. “he’s not my boyfriend. never was.”

you stepped out of the back room to see the other hughes brother sitting at your bar.

“hello jack. what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask, planting yourself across from him.

“we need to talk about you and luke.” he replied curtly.

“there is no me and luke, he has made it very clear that he is no longer interested in being my friend anymore.” you said, pouring a drink for no one, you just needed something to do.

“that’s the thing. he does want to be your friend, more than that. this past week he has not shut up about you and how you guys weren’t talking anymore. what happened?” jack asked, grabbing the now finished drink and bringing it to his lips.

“i don’t even know. we were planning on going to this party at my friends frat together and then after your guys’ game against the hurricanes he flaked out and hasn’t spoken to me since. i’ve reached out and haven’t gotten anything back, i was at the game on saturday and he didn’t even look at me, so if he is upset that we aren’t talking then he is just upset with himself.” you took a moment to catch your breath before looking at jack.

“whose jersey did you wear to our game against the hurricanes?” 

“sebastian aho’s. why?”

jack let out a chuckle and shook his head. “makes sense. he was muttering stupid sebastian aho and fucking homewrecker the whole way home and bunkered himself in his room for days.” 

“i always refused to wear his jersey to games, or his anything, and now i’m realizing i probably pissed him off by wearing someone else’s name and number when i’ve been telling him the whole time i’ve known him that the reason i won’t wear his stuff is because i don’t wear anyones.” you told jack, pouring another drink.

“i wouldn’t say he is pissed off. he is definitely upset though.” jack starts, standing up. “i think you should come to our game this thursday-”

“i always go to your games.” you cut him off. “well come to our game this thursday wearing his jersey. i think that is all he wants…well that and you being his girlfriend.” jack finished, not giving you a chance to respond before walking out the front doors.

+++

“david please, just let me borrow your jersey for one night.” you begged your brother over the phone.

“no can do little sis. just go buy your own, i mean it might be beneficial to own your own luke hughes jersey when luke hughes is your boyfriend.”

“david i’m not even gonna say it, but seriously? where am i gonna find a jersey on such short notice?” “at literally any store in newark. walk down mainstreet and you’ll probably find five in the front window of shops.” david answers, the sarcastic tone in his voice pissing you off further.

“goodbye. i’m gonna go walk around looking for a jersey in the freezing cold now.”

+++

to: luke hughes

hey. i know we haven’t talked in a little bit but i spoke with your brother the other day. 

to: luke hughes

i’m going to the game tonight, if you would be willing to let me see you after i would really appreciate it.

to: luke hughes

i would like to talk to you.

+++

you weren’t able to find a jersey with luke’s number on it so you wore a blank jersey tonight, which kind of crushed your original plan for the evening, but you still had to try.

“are you sure sweetie? because i have no issue waiting until he shows up.” 

“yes dad, i’m sure. i’ll be fine, please go.” you assured your dad, pushing him towards his car.

it wasn’t until forty minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching you. you turned your head around and frowned at the sight of jack hughes walking your way.

“sorry i’m not the brother you wanted to see, but luke left as soon as he could and ubered back to our apartment.” 

you nodded in defeat. “thank you for telling me. i’ll just order myself an uber home then…tell luke i said good game and if he ever wants to talk he can message me.”

“why don’t you tell him yourself.”

+++

trinity would literally die if you told her whose car you were currently sitting shotgun in. 

“luke made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me, or even see me. i don’t think this is a good idea jack.”

jack had convinced you that the best thing to do in this situation was to confront luke directly. not as much convinced you, but rather offered you a ride home and said he had to make a stop on the way, that stop being his and luke’s place. 

“y/n luke is miserable not talking to you, and that is making me miserable.”

“well he wouldn’t be so miserable if he would just text me back, he is the one choosing to not speak to me. can we just get this over with? drive faster.”

+++

“luke’s room is down that hall, second door to the right.” jack informed you, you thanked him quietly before making your way to luke’s room. 

you knocked gently and got no response so you knocked again, a little harder.

“jack i’m not in the mood right now. go away.” 

you tried to speak up but nothing came out, so you just knocked again.

“jack i’m serious. this whole y/n situation is messing with my head, i played awful tonight and i just want to go to sleep.”

“well if it’s messing with you so much and making you as upset as jack says it is then maybe you should just text me back and we can figure out how to fix this.” you spoke, frustration clear in your tone. 

you didn’t give him the chance to respond before you made your way out of their apartment and towards the stairwell, ordering an uber as you ran down the steps.

once outside you saw that your uber was about five minutes away so you were forced to just stand there and wait. from: luke hughes

i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please come back up. 

to: luke hughes

no.

from: luke hughes

please. let's talk about this.

to: luke hughes

i’ve given you many chances in the past week for us to talk and you’ve ignored me each time.

to: luke hughes

it’s my turn to be upset now.

+++

that was two weeks ago and you haven’t seen or spoken to luke since.

you went to your mothers house is oregon for christmas and came back to new jersey today. 

the second you ended your gift exchange with your father you went up to your room and opened your texts with luke.

from: luke hughes

y/n i’m sorry.

from: luke hughes

please talk to me.

from: luke hughes

merry christmas, i got you a gift. i asked your coworker brian where you’ve been, he said it that you were spending christmas at your moms this year so i’ll give it to you when you get back.

from: luke hughes

please text me when you get back.

from: luke hughes

i need to see you.

you spent a few moments contemplating whether to send a text or to continue ignoring him, even if the later was driving you crazy.

before you could stop yourself you sent a message, and got one back immediately.

to: luke hughes

i’m back in newark.

from: luke hughes

on my way

you slightly panicked when you realized that after nearly a month of silence between the two of you, luke was now going to be in front of you and in your presence again. you didn’t know what you were going to say, worry filled you thinking about the many outcomes that could happen.

“sweetie, luke is at the door for you.”

you timidly stood up and took a deep breath or two before making your way downstairs. 

“hey luke, let’s go up to my room to talk.” 

luke nodded before stepping inside, giving your father a proper greeting before heading up the stairs.

“ok, so can you start off by telling me why you ghosted me for a full week?” you asked him once he had sat down on your hammock chair, you across from him on your bed.

“you wore someone else’s jersey.” luke started, letting out a deep breath afterwards. “after you told me for months that you never wear anyone’s jersey, so you wouldn’t wear mine.”

the sound of your friends yelling “i told you so” played in your head, but you pushed it aside to focus on what was happening in front of you.

luke was now in your closet, where he would find your many, many, aho items.

“luke please get out of my closet.” you were angry, he had no reason to be searching your things.

“how many things do you own of him. jesus.” luke said once he finally walked back into your bedroom. 

“luke i’m sorry that i lied to you about never wearing anyone else’s jersey, but is that seriously why you ignored me?” you were a little skeptical of his reasoning.

“why did you ignore me for multiple weeks?” luke ignored your question.

“because you were the one leaving me on read and skipping out on our plans, but then you went around telling people you were miserable not talking to me as if i was the one who failed to reach out and that made me angry. i gave you so many opportunities luke…and you didn’t take up any of them. so i got mad and i knew i was about to leave town for two weeks and i didn’t really wanna communicate with you during my vacation.”

“why did you lie to me?” luke asked, now taking a seat next to you on your bed.

“i honestly don’t know. i’ve only ever worn aho’s number, just feels weird wearing someone else’s. and i was being honest, other than aho, there has never been a player i like enough to wear their jersey until now.” you sat up from your spot and walked over to one of the gift boxes sitting on your floor, during your gift exchange with your dad you received a devils jersey with the number forty-three and hughes on the back as well as some shirts and hoodies with the same thing. “these were all gifted to me for christmas. i asked for them. i wanted to wear your jersey, i have for a while now, but i was just unsure of what it would mean. can you tell me why you got so angry?” you asked the question that had been on your mind for weeks.

“y/n i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, i never asked you though because you wouldn’t even wear my fucking jersey no matter how much i begged you to so why would you say yes to being my girlfriend.”

“god luke again with the fucking jersey, i don’t get the big deal it’s just a piece of fabric.” you yelled, getting frustrated. 

“it means something! ok y/n, it means something.” he starts. “there is a difference between wearing a jersey as a fan and wearing a jersey as a girlfriend, something personal and intimate, and you won’t even wear my jersey as a fucking fan.”

it felt like you were talking in circles and it was driving you crazy. 

“that is what i’m saying luke. i didn’t ever wear your jersey because i didn’t know what it would mean. i didn’t know if we were friends or something more, and wearing your jersey could’ve given us both the wrong ideas.”

“what idea would it have given you?” luke asked, taking a step towards you.

“that i’m something more to you than a friend, and i didn’t want to think that because it isn’t true” you admitted the truth, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea, but rather yourself. “-and i don’t like to get my hopes up.” 

luke didn’t respond, he just sat there in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to three minutes.

“luke if you want to leave, just go. i’m sorry i ruined our friendship, i wish you the best in the rest of your career and life-” 

your words were cut off by lips touching yours, luke’s lips.

after a few moments you broke the kiss, not liking how fast it was progressing.

“luke what was that-”

“i like you, y/n. as more than a friend, that is why i wanted you to wear my jersey so badly. i wanted to feel special, because you have this rule about never wearing anybody’s jersey, but you wore mine and you wore mine because i mean something to you whether that be a friend or something more, i just wanted to feel like i meant something to you.” luke practically yelled, interrupting you.

“i feel like we are both making the same points, but just phrasing them differently each time.” you spoke, trying to choose your next words carefully. “what do we do now? how do we move past this?” 

“well, you could agree to go on a date with me and wear my jersey to the next home game. that would be a start.” luke offered, grabbing both of your hands. “-you could also let me kiss you again, i’d really like that.”

“deal.”

+++

“sweetie are you almost ready? we’re gonna miss warmups.”

“coming dad.” 

you quickly made your way downstairs, checking your appearance in the multiple mirrors you passed by on the way towards the car.

“wearing your boyfriend's jersey i see?” your father quipped once you got into the driver’s seat, he demanded you drive because you had just gotten a new car.

“not my boyfriend.” was all you said in response.

“still? that boy needs to grow a pair.”

from: luke hughes

are we still on for after the game? 

to: luke hughes

yup! meet me in the car park when you’re done?

from: luke hughes

👍

+++

after the game you parted ways with your father, him taking an uber home and leaving you with your car to drive you and luke around tonight. which isn’t traditional, especially for a first date, but you loved betty, your new car, and you wanted to drive her.

“wow the new car is dope y/n.” 

you turned around and saw jack and luke walking towards you, the older hughes speaking.

“-and nice jersey, next time wear an eighty six for me, yeah?” 

“never gonna happen jack.” luke started, before turning his attention to you. “you ready to go?” 

“yes i am, you can put your bag in the trunk.” i opened up the trunk with my keys before getting in the driver's seat. “where are we going?” 

“i’ll give you directions as you drive.” luke said, plugging his phone into the aux.

+++

a few minutes later you pulled into a qdoba. 

“wow you know me so well hughes.”

“i just didn’t feel like paying extra for your queso and guac.” luke deadpanned.

“yeah right, i know i’m turning you into a qdoba enjoyer.” you teased as you entered the restaurant.

after getting our food luke gave me an address of where to drive for our late night picnic. it was a lookout place that luke had found when he first moved here, you had been here multiple times as well and knew of a good place to sit.

“follow me” you hopped over the barbed wire fence and waited until luke made it over to start walking again.

“are you sure this is allowed?” luke whispered.

“i know for a fact that it is not, but it’s fine no one is here right now it’s after dark.” you said back at full volume, earning a loud shhhh from luke in the process.

you walked a little bit more before you made it to your favorite ledge, you could see all of newark from here and a little bit of new york, but when you looked up there was a perfect view of the stars.

“how did you find this place?” luke asked, digging into his food.

“i was hiding from the cops one night and me and tyler ended up here.” luke’s eyes widened at your story. “i’ll tell you more about that later, but ever since i’ve been coming here.” 

we continued to eat and talk about random things until it was time to go.

“we should probably go, it’s nearly midnight.” 

+++

once you finished the drive back to luke’s apartment you got out of the car to say your goodbyes.

“well i had a lot of fun tonight, we should do it-” luke cut you off by kissing you. “you have to stop doing that.” you teased.

“sorry, it’s just that you look really good in my jersey, like really good. i was struggling not to jump over the glass when i saw you during warmups.” luke admitted, going in for another kiss. “look y/n, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be my girlfriend?” a blush crept up luke’s neck as he spoke.

“i would love that.” you replied, a blush spread across your cheeks.

we said our goodbyes and you drove home, not expecting your father to be awake on the couch.

“oh you’re awake?” you asked, taking your shoes off.

“yeah just wanted to make sure you were safe.” your dad replied. “how is your boyfriend?”

“he is great.” you replied smiling, not correcting him for once because now he really was your boyfriend.

+++

note: BOOOO HAPPINESS no but this literally took me a month to finish because i had absolutely no energy and no inspo to write anything. idk if i like this yet…but ANYWAYS hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes. 

[ddejavvu]

oh mei.....

running into dbf!hotch when ur ever so slightly (absolutely) wasted and letting it slip how viscerally attractive u find him and what u want to do to him and watching him squirm because he can't react the way he wants to LORD i wanna make that old man flustered

please there's nothing like dbf!hotch <33333

--

You're a giggly drunk, and you know it. Aaron doesn't, though, which is why it's such a surprise when you spot him from across the street, standing on the patio of a bar as he walks from a restaurant with his team.

"Aaron- Aaron!" You shout, waving wildly as if he's having a hard time spotting you. The people around him look confused, but it turns into alarm when you dash across the street.

"Hi!" You squeal, slamming into him like a car could have into you, "Ohmygosh, you're here! And- and wow, I'm here, and we're here!"

"We are here," He can't fight the amused smile on his face, chuckling softly as he steadies you, "Now why are you here? It's late, and you have classes tomorrow, don't you?"

"Just a lecture," You shrug, "And I- I don't need to be there, he'll post the notes online. So I'm out with my friends!"

"Me too," Aaron keeps your arm in his grip, pivoting you to face his team, "These are my coworkers. You've met, uh, Dave before. And I think that's it."

"Hi, Y/N," Dave smiles kindly at you, though his eyes linger on the way Aaron's hand smooths up and over your shoulder, staying there.

"Hi," You grin jovially, remembering the kind man Aaron had brought with him to dinner once, "It's nice to meet you all! I'm- I'm drunk, but-"

"She's Y/N," Aaron laughs, "But she is also drunk. Let's walk you back, okay? I don't think I trust you to go by yourself again."

"You have to hold my hand!" You urge, shaking his arm off of your shoulder and grabbing his hand where it falls at his side, "Just to be- to be safe."

"Uh, okay," He nods, cheeks flaring up slightly rosy, "Let's go, sweetheart."

You drag him across the street like an excited puppy. He grabs you by the waist when you nearly trip, and with his help you make it back across the street and to the bar.

"Let's get you a drink," You grin, an evil expression that makes it seem like you're leading him to his doom. And perhaps you are, with the pretty little dress that's hugging your figure and the wild look in your eyes.

"I don't need a drink," He tries slipping his hand out of yours once you're safely on the patio again, "That's okay, honey. I'm due home now, okay? You go have fun with your friends."

"Wait- no!" You frown, lower lip puffy and wobbling as crocodile tears invade your eyes, "That's not fair. I finally- finally got all pretty and made up and you won't even stay with me?"

"What do you mean?" Aaron lets you take his hand back, and doesn't protest when you start playing with his thick fingers to distract yourself.

"I knew you were coming tonight," You admit in your drunken haze, "i heard you talking to my dad about a team dinner. And I wanted you to drink with me afterwards. But you just want to go home, you don't even like my- my dress," You sniffle, "Or my makeup, or my shoes, or-"

"Okay, okay," Aaron murmurs, smearing a stray tear away from your cheek before it can streak mascara down your face, "Let's just- uh, let's sit down."

He leads you to a patio chair, and squats at your feet.

"Honey," He starts, commanding your attention even if it's sparse and spacey, "Listen to me. It's not that I don't want to- uh, there's nothing wrong with- no, okay... you're drunk. You know that."

You nod, head bobbing on your shoulders.

"Right, and- and I don't think it's very fair of me to, uh- appreciate the effort you've put in tonight while you're drunk. Okay?"

"But I want you to," You whine, grasping his hands in your own, "I want you to push me up against the bar, and kiss me, and put your hands on my waist, and- and then take me home and-"

"Okay! Okay, okay," Aaron squeezes your hands, "I hear you. And maybe one night, when you're not drunk..."

"You promise?" Those damned tears are back, and Aaron can't resist gripping your chin to tug your face down. It takes all of his willpower to dot a kiss to your forehead when your lips are right there, but he does so successfully and even smiles at the sloppy kiss you plant on his chin when he pulls back.

"I promise." There's a strange sensation in his chest, like it's a balloon filled with rocks. He's elated, thrilled at the prospect of your hidden desire, but already worried about the complications of your impending relations, "Do me a favor, sweetheart?"

"Anything," You breathe, shiny-eyed, and his heart skips a beat.

"Let me drive you home," He offers, "Not like that. Just so that I know you get home safe. You don't really need to go back in there, I think you're drunk enough."

"Okay," You nod, chin still in his grip, "But- but my friends need rides."

"Then your friends can come too," Aaron stands, helping you rise to your feet with a hand under your arm that hooks over his shoulder, "Where are they?"

"Inside," You nod towards the building, 'But, uh- Aaron? Will you please tell them you kissed me? If they ask?"

"What?"

"I told them I was going to tell you how I feel tonight," Your face crumples in worry, "And- and I know you said not tonight, but I want them to think that it worked, so-"

"If they ask," He tries not to smile at the knowledge that he's hot gossip among your friends, "I'll tell them you jumped me in the parking lot."

[indigogvf]

Bottled up

Summary: Jake comforts you after a bad week at work.

Warnings: Crying? There’s no others that I can think of, just lots of comfort and fluff.

Word count: 1279

AN: Thanks for helping me decide which fic to do on my poll!! Im still gonna do the other two at some point, but Jake comfort was the winner so you’re getting this one first😁

Also, my requests are open!! I’d love to hear any ideas.

You just finished work, and you’re walking rather quickly to your car, whilst also desperately holding back tears to avoid your boss after he gave you a deadline for a presentation; a presentation he told you about yesterday. And the deadline is on Monday.

It’s Friday.

After the immense stress and pressure you’ve been holding in this week, it was safe to say you were now at your breaking point.

You practically threw yourself into your car as tears started streaming down your face, not wanting to catch the attention of any coworkers who might also be leaving. Everything that had even slightly upset or bothered you this week now seemed earth shattering as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’ve been pushing away. You were never one to talk about how you felt; you always felt as if no one really cared, or that you were being a burden. Everyone has their own stuff going on, why do they need yours to think about too?

You pulled up in the driveway, taking a deep breath before getting out of your car and making your way to the house. You walked in, chucking your keys on the side table and hanging your coat up. “Jake, I’m home.” You called out. You walked through to the kitchen to see where he was after you heard no response, and found him cutting up some type of vegetable, which you couldn’t quite see because he was in the way. “Hey. What are you making?” You questioned.

“Hey, honey. I’m making lasagna for dinner. I know it’s your favourite, and I wanted to do something nice for you.” He smiled. You took a deep breath, not wanting to start up the waterworks for the second time. He was so good to you.

“Oh. That’s very thoughtful of you, Jake. Thank you.” You returned his smile as he pulled you in for a sweet little kiss. “I’m gonna head upstairs and take a shower.” You began walking away,

“Wait!” He called, “How was work?”

You were really hoping you’d dodged that question.

“Uh.. yeah, it was fine.” You briskly walked away, desperately trying to avoid any further questions.

You failed.

“Just fine? Are you sure?” He paused for a moment, awaiting your response. When you hesitated, he continued. “You’ve been a little off with me this week.. have I done something wrong? Is there something going on elsewhere that’s bothering you?”

Fuck.

You hate this. You almost hate yourself for this. You’ve been pushing him away all week, attempting to avoid this exact conversation. As much as you want to just curl up on the couch with him and bathe in his love and affection, you knew yourself too well. You knew you’d crack and end up crying to him about how stressed you’ve been, which is exactly what you want to avoid. You hate that you’ve made him feel like he’s done something wrong. You can feel your lip quivering as you hold back your tears for the second time since you’ve come home. “I’m sorry. I.. I just-“ aaaand here it comes.

You put your head in your hands as you start bawling, trying to conceal the fact that you’re most definitely not okay. Although you think it’s fairly obvious, because Jake rushes over to you, embracing you in a tight hug as your body shakes against his. “Hey, it’s okay. Shhh. Just let it all out,” He says softly into your ear whilst gently stroking your hair. “Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” He prods.

You collect yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself enough to explain yourself. “I’m sorry for pushing you away all week. You didn’t do anything, I’ve just had a week from hell. I didn’t want to be a burden to you so I just kept it to myself, but I knew if you were to ask about my day, I’d crack.” You mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed because saying it out loud makes you feel slightly pathetic.

“What makes you think you can’t talk to me? You can always talk to me - about anything. I want to be there for you, honey. But I can’t if i don’t know when there’s something bothering you. Your problems will never burden me, I promise. Now, tell me what happened.” He reassures you, still giving gentle strokes across your hair.

You knew your thought process was slightly unnecessary when it came to Jake. He’s never made you feel like you can’t talk to him; in fact, you know you can talk to him. You assume it was from when you were a teenager and your two friends ignored you for being upset, and then proceeded to tell you it was draining to be around you. You’re glad that Jake shows you nothing of the sort.

“Well, on Monday, there was four clients who phoned and screamed at me down the phone for the way that their previous issues were handled. I didnt even deal with their original complaints. On Tuesday, my boss called me for a meeting about those calls and basically questioned my ability to do my job, despite the fact that I told him multiple times I didn’t handle their original complaints. On Wednesday, my coworker shouted at me in front of the entire office about how i didn’t send him some documents he needed, even though he didn’t tell me about them. On Thursday I split my coffee on my cream coloured jumper and had to walk around with a giant stain down my chest. Today, my boss gave me a deadline for a presentation. He told me about the presentation on Thursday, and the deadline is on Monday.” You took a breath, feeling like you were suffocating because of how quickly and passionately you listed all of the problems of the week.

“Oh, love. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be treated this way. You’re always working so hard, it’s a shame they can’t see that. Have you thought about working somewhere else? You deserve to be respected and seen for your work, and I don’t think you’re going to get that at this company.” He spoke in the most delicate voice.

You thought for a moment, contemplating his suggestion of getting a new job. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about that; but I think you might be right.” You replied.

Jake pulled you closer to him, placing your head on his chest. “You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I guess I just overthink it sometimes.” You said, reassuring him.

“Do you promise you’ll talk to me next time?” He held his pinky finger out.

“I pinky promise, Jake.” You shook his pinky as you smiled at each other.

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss to your lips and then planted kisses around your face, leaving an extra big one on your forehead. You giggled in response, already feeling much better.

“Why don’t we eat our lasagna and try to come up with some solutions that might make your work easier, and then cuddle on the couch with a movie on in the background, hm? That sound good, pretty girl?” He suggested.

“Mmm, that sounds amazing. Thank you, Jake. I love you.” You nuzzled your head into his chest. You could hear his heartbeat gently thumping in your ear.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss on your head whilst simultaneously giving you a tight squeeze.

You loved him so much, it was almost too much. But you especially loved how loved he made you feel.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 1]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: Guys, I think it goes without saying that you should never cheat on anyone. Just don’t do it. This is a complete re-write of an old Marvel idea that I had. It is also my very first HOTD fic, so I am open to any feedback that you may have. This man just has a motherfuckin' hold on me, like I don't even know what happened. Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy this! Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language.

Playlist here

Read Chapter Two

You felt the bed shift.

The sun hadn’t yet made a break in the early morning sky, and the room was still dark; only dimly lit by the bathroom light that had just been turned on. You could hear the faucet running and the faint sound of teeth being brushed as you reached over and checked the time. The intense light of the screen made your vision blur and eyes squint, but after a few blinks, you could make out those three numbers; 5:06 AM.

A shadow moved along the hallway walls, and you quickly placed your phone back on the bedside table and turned on your side. With your eyes clamped shut, you listened as he moved around the room, mentally picturing every action; opening the closet door, pulling a shirt from the hanger, crossing the room to the dresser, finding a pair of socks and boxers in the drawer. It was the same every morning, every day, at the same time. 

Aegon wasn’t Aegon without his daily routine; wake up, brush teeth, shower, breakfast, work, lunch, work, home, dinner, bed. You used to enjoy it, the structure that you had both brought to each other's lives. It was a complete change from when you had first met him. He used to be completely haphazard; snoozing through every alarm and perpetually late, but he had come into his own after he had met you.

You used to wake up with him and get an early start on your day; making breakfast together, sitting at the table together, reading your emails while he scrolled through the news. You'd make plans for dinner and talk about your friends, and your jobs, and you'd laugh and joke. And it used to be nice. But now you just pretended to be asleep, waiting until he left before getting out of bed. 

You wondered if it was wrong to do that, because, to you, it certainly felt like it was. Aegon brought it up, too, a couple of times; always wanting to know if something was wrong, or if you were okay. Truth be told, you weren't even sure of the reason for the change, so you just told him that you were tired and that work was stressful.

Often, you wondered if maybe you should start again.

Start trying...

Maybe it’d make things better. 

Or as your best friend, coworker, and self-proclaimed love guru, Baela, liked to say, there was no getting better. According to the white-haired cynic, the vast majority of relationships are doomed from the start, and that you should take your unhappiness as a sign that things just weren’t meant to work out with Aegon. 

Some mornings, you’d look in the mirror- bare feet cold on the tile floor, hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink- and asked yourself if Bae was right; if all of this was a sign that you just weren’t meant to be. You’d ask yourself if you really loved Aegon, and if it’d be better to break things off than to dig yourself in deeper. You knew that the answer was probably ‘yes’, because if the answer was ‘no’, you wouldn’t even be asking those questions in the first place.

But then you’d remember what it was like to be together when the two of you first started dating, and couldn’t help but hope that one day it’d go back to that. Fooling yourself into believing that this was just something that all couples went through, and allowing yourself to continue on with your boring, auto-pilot type life.

The subway platform was cold and damp as you waited in the crowd of a hundred people. Melting snow from the streets above had water dripping down the walls, and it smelled of musty leather and dirty shoes. Your scarf and jacket weren’t doing much to keep you warm, and you cursed yourself for not grabbing your gloves before you left the house. Although, you probably wouldn’t have kept them on very long because you couldn’t use your phone while wearing them.

It was the first week of January. Christmas and New Years had come and gone and people were making their way back to work after a long weekend. In the office, there was a giant board in the break room for people to write down their resolutions; serving as a reminder to keep people on track for the first few months. Most of them were ‘eat healthy’ and ‘exercise more’, and most people would fall off the wagon before February.

Baela was already at her desk when you got to your tiny, cluttered, shared cubicle. A red coffee cup in one hand and cellphone in the other; her hair was pinned up to perfection and shined underneath the fluorescent lights; swaying softly as she turned around in her desk chair. 

“Good morning!” She said with a smile. “Coffee’s on your desk.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I didn’t have time to stop this morning.” You shrugged out of your jacket and hung it over the back of the chair before grabbing the small, cardboard cup and bringing it to your lips; eyes fluttering shut at the taste and warmth of the beverage. “You’re too good to me, B.”

“I know,” she replied with a kind smile. “How was your weekend? Did you and Aegon do anything exciting?”

“We stayed home, had a couple glasses of champagne and watched the ball drop.” You replied with your back turned to your coworker, fingers dancing over the keyboard as you logged into your computer. “I broke out that pretty, purple lace lingerie set,” Baela made a sound to let you know that she was still listening. “He said that he really liked it, but he didn’t want to do anything because he was too tired, and had to go into work early.”

You could hear her clicking her tongue against her teeth. 

“It’s like, we have these really good moments together,” you continued. “And most of the time, things are pretty good, but they just aren’t the same. There’s no passion, or spontaneity, it’s like we don’t have fun anymore.”

“Yeah, but you guys have been together for a few years,” Baela replied, turning slightly in her chair to look at you. “Relationships usually change after awhile, that’s normal.”

“Bae, the last time we really had fun was Jason's birthday.”

"Our boss Jason?" She gulped. You nodded and her eyes widened in disbelief. "But that was last May!"

“That’s exactly my point.”

“Speaking of birthdays,” Baela began, finally changing the subject. “I was planning to celebrate Jace's is on Saturday, and I was thinking we could take him out for a few drinks, let him beat us both at bowling, I might even make a cake.”

“I can do Saturday,” you replied as you marked the date on your desk calendar.

“Great!” Baela exclaimed. “He’ll really like that, I think.”

As if on queue, Jace popped his head over the wall of your cubicle, eyebrows raised. “Hey ladies,” he said smoothly with a slight smile. “How are you both on this Monday morning?”

“Great!" Baela answered first with a wide, sparkling smile. 

“I wouldn’t have used that much enthusiasm, but sure, it’s great.” You mumbled in return, not taking your gaze off of your calendar after having noticed that it was almost four years to the day that you met Aegon. Little, red hearts outlined the box that marked the day. 

You remembered that day so vividly, as if it was just yesterday; stumbling out of the snow and into an inviting coffeeshop on the corner of 39th & 7th. Your boss had asked you, of all people, to interview the son of the President & CEO of the most well-known oil company in the world regarding the mass job cuts that continued after the COVID-19 pandemic. He was late to the interview by twenty-three minutes and you found it out-of-place that he wasn't wearing a suit. His hair was unkempt and his blazer was not doing a very good job of hiding a toothpaste stain on his button-up.

"Thank you for waiting, the train ran late." He greeted as he shook the snow from his hair and extended his hand to you. The closer he became, the more apparent it was that he was either high or hungover. "Aegon."

"Y/N," you replied and gestured towards the table. "Your assistant said that you liked one cream and two sugars?"

What was supposed to be a 30-45 minute interview turned into an hour and a half long conversation. Aegon had an answer for every one of your pointed questions, and gave great responses about the future of the company with his father's dwindling health and the succession of his business- which was what everyone really cared about, really. But you found yourself nearly hanging on every word, even if you truly thought most of it was bullshit. There was something you found incredibly attractive about his sarcastic smile and the way that he quipped back at you when you'd try to back him into a corner.

When it came to the article, you didn't hold back- you couldn't; blasting Aegon for his unprofessionalism and the excuses that he made for his father and grandfather regarding the layoffs. After the paper was printed and distributed, you received a bouquet for roses to your desk with a card that read, "Thank you for your honesty and the conversation. Let me take you out on a real coffee date some time? 212-555-8598"

You remember the look on Baela's face as she stood over your shoulder reading the tiny, rectangular card along with you. Her elbow digging into your side as she wagged her eyebrows, teasing you as if you were children. But nevertheless, you did text him, and you did let him take you out on that date, and you had been together ever since.

“Hello?” Jace’s voice pierced through your thoughts. “Earth to Y/N! You coming to the meeting or are you just going to sit at your desk and daydream all day?”

You looked up to see Baela and Jace both standing, waiting for you. There was a mandatory team meeting in five minutes. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” You said quickly, grabbing your coffee and following your coworkers towards the conference room.

“What’s got your head in the clouds?” Bae asked under her breath as you walked side-by-side.

“Just thinking about when Aegon and I first met," you replied.

She just shook her head at you and took her seat at the table, pulling a pen from behind her ear, and waited for the meeting to start. Her face was determined and focused, ready to spill all of her new ideas for this week’s paper, and knowing Baela, she had a million and one. 

After the meeting, you both went straight back to work, only letting up off of your keyboard for your lunch hour. Your cubicle mate was strictly relationship advice, and had an entire bin in the mail room dedicated to letters from her fans; who were mostly women in their late 30′s to mid 40′s, wondering what to do about their lazy husband who failed to notice that they got their hair cut.

You had your own column that was rightfully called ‘Popular Now’, where you wrote about everything that was popular that week; including television shows, music, people, movies, and restaurants. Sometimes you got to go to fancy restaurants and club openings, movie premiers, and concerts. Despite your life long dream to be a front-page, investigative crime journalist, you enjoyed your job and the perks it offered. 

“You want to go grab a drink?” Baela asked, turning off her computer. She had a stack of fan mail in her hand. “We can read about all the horrible break ups that happened this past week.”

“As fun as that sounds,” you began. “I have to go to the grocery store before I head home. I’m making Linguine tonight. Aegon's favorite.” You said as you shut off your desk lamp and began stuffing some papers into you bag.

“Suit yourself,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll ask Jace.”

“You two have fun, then!”

The streets were overcrowded with overworked city-dwellers who were desperate to get home. The wind had picked up significantly since that morning, numbing your face as you walked through the crowd of double-breasted, suit wearing men and women who were yakking on their phones about what was for dinner. Your tights did nothing to keep your knees from shaking, and you started to regret your decision to walk instead of call a cab. It would have only taken longer for the latter in the stop-and-go traffic of rush hour.

You tried to call Aegon once you got into the store to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he needed added to the list, but he didn’t answer. He barely ever did. He was almost always on his phone, taking business calls and messages for his father, but could never answer the phone for you. At this point you didn’t even bother leaving a message, knowing that he wouldn’t take the time to return it.

After you had made your way through the aisles with your basket in hand, you walked towards the checkout lanes, only to find two long lines that were moving much, too slow. Your foot tapped impatiently against the floor as you waited. You turned your head slightly, watching as more and more patrons continued to line up with their carts. You noticed the gentleman standing behind you with only one item. He looked oddly familiar, but you shrugged him off as just being another hipster guy with long hair.

"Would you like to go in front of me?" You asked him politely.

The corners of his lips turned into a small smile as he eyed your basket. "I appreciate the gesture," his voice was smooth. "Are you sure you don't mind?" You shook your head and stepped to the side for him to move in front of you. "Thank you."

"Of course," you responded.

The line was still moving painfully slow; coming to a halt as the cashier called for a manager on the overhead speaker over the price of a shampoo bottle. Your eyes perused the magazines on the shelf to your left, glossing over the headlines and laughing to yourself at the more ridiculous ones. As you continued to wait, you couldn't help but steal another glance at the man now standing in front of you. Your eyes must have lingered a little longer than they should've, tracing across his sharp features, because you were brought back to reality when you heard him clear his throat- his steely gaze returning yours.

"I'm sorry," you confessed to him as your cheeks grew warm. "You just look so incredibly familiar and I can't put my finger on it- have we met?"

"You're implying that I'm forgettable," he responded with a smirk. "I don't think we have, I would certainly remember if we had as there is nothing forgettable about you." Your blush only intensified as he held his hand out and took your hand into his. "I'm Aemond."

"Y/N," you replied, fingers curing around his. "Wait, Aemond?" It finally clicked. This was Aegon's brother that you had never met due to the fact that he was always traveling for business. You had only seen his picture on your refrigerator a million times. Only, in the picture he was about twenty years younger, his cheeks were more plump, and he had both eyes. "You're Aegon's brother, there's a picture of the two of you as kids on our fridge."

"You must be his lady, then." He replied and you thought you could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice. You hadn't even realized that he was still holding on to your hand until he dropped it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," you smiled as he placed his item onto the conveyor belt as the line began to move again. "Aegon says that you are always traveling for work? How long are you in town for?"

“I actually got promoted,” he replied and you placed the plastic divider on the belt, signaling to the cashier where his order stopped and yours began. "I’m home for good now.”

“Oh that’s great!” You exclaimed. “You should come by some time. I’m sure Aegon would love to see you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he handed his card to the cashier. “I will.” He took his bag from the end of the counter and looked back at you one last time before taking his receipt from the cashier. “I’ll see you around, then.” 

You nodded as the cashier asked if you had your discount card.  

Aegon wasn’t home when you got there, and you reveled in coming home to an empty apartment. It was so quiet; no loud television or hour long conversations with his financial advisers about the business. Just the sounds of boiling water and the sizzling of shrimp in the frying pan. 

It was peaceful.

You stood in front of the refrigerator staring at the small photo of Aegon and his brother held to the stainless steel with a smiley face magnet. Aemond's freckles and messy hair, Aegon's toothy grin and mischievous eyes as they pulled funny faces for the camera. Aegon didn't talk about his brother much, but you knew that he missed him.

“Yeah man! It’ll be great to have you around again.” You heard the front door open shortly after you drained the noodles, signaling that Aegon was home. The door slammed behind him, followed by the thud of his briefcase on the living room floor. “You should definitely come by soon,” he said loudly into his phone. Moments later, he joined you in the kitchen and placed a kiss on the side of your cheek without saying a word and then headed up the stairs to change into something more comfortable. “I can’t wait for you to meet, Y/N. You’re going to love her, brother.”

You smiled to yourself as you pushed the shrimp around in the pan one last time before shutting off the heat. Everything looked and smelled amazing, and you couldn’t wait for Aegon to try it. You had the table completely set up; white wine, the nice plates that were only for when there was company, and the candles were burning. 

“Hey babe,” he said as he stepped back into the kitchen. “That was Aemond. He’s back in town for good now, he’s going to come for dinner Friday night.”

“That’s great!” You replied, and Aegon picked a plate off of the table. 

“He’s excited to finally meet you.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I was thinking maybe you could invite Baela?” he followed up as he sat the plate on the counter next to you and moved to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. “So that you have someone to talk to if we get caught up in catching up."

“Y-yeah,” you replied with your back to him, wondering why Aemond didn’t mention your run-in at the grocery store. “That sounds like a great idea.” You placed the pot on the kitchen table with an oven mitt underneath and took to your usual seat. 

Aegon, still standing, hurriedly fixed himself a plate and popped a shrimp in his mouth. “Mm, this is delicious. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to eat in the office. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” He told you quickly and dashed up the stairs.

Before you could say anything, he was already gone.

You took a sip from your wine glass and sighed, staring at the dinner you had prepared. Despite how hungry you might have been before you cooked dinner, your appetite seemed to have completely vanished. You didn’t even bother to fix yourself a plate, just finished your wine instead before standing up and putting the leftover away. 

[14buddy22]

Hey! Could you do A Aaron fic where him and the reader get into an argument where Aaron gets mad and says some stuff He doesnt mean but in the end they Make up and it ends with fluff?

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT… IVE BEEN SO BUSY BETWEEN WORK AND COACHING TWO SPORTS 😭😭 I hope you like it!! ❤️

Breakfast with your Hotchner boys were always some of your favorite times that you spent with them. Aaron cooked, Jack helped, your youngest son, Joey, would be strapped to Aaron's chest and laugh with Aaron and Jack, all while you had time to get up and shower and actually be relaxed.

During the week, it was hectic. Especially when Aaron was away on a case, sometimes the only time you got with him was for an hour in passing. He came home to switch out his laundry and you would be just getting ready to leave to start your day.

While he was gone, you had to make sure Jack got off to the bus stop on time, you had to also make sure the diaper bag for Joey was ready to go to your parents' house. On top of the two big things, you had to do the little things, make lunches, dinners, clean, do laundry, put laundry away, bath time with Joey. When Aaron was here, it was nice to have an extra pair of hands.

As you all sat at the table, eating breakfast, you were happy to have him home. It felt nice for your kids to have time with their father, for you to have time with your husband, for everyone to be a family.

When you met Aaron, you knew that his life was being a father to Jack and being an FBI agent. When you started dating, he still told you that. It was why he hadn't committed to a relationship, because all the woman like to leave him. But if he was just a bachelor and did hook ups, there was no emotional attachment.

Until you were that hook up that turned into way more. He asked you out, you dated, he proposed, you married him, you asked him to have a baby, and he performed.

Throughout your relationship, he told you multiple times how stressful his job was, it was one of his biggest insecurities.

As the kids finished breakfast, you started doing dishes, Aaron moving to the couch to go keep an eye on Joey while Jack went to his room to get dressed for the day.

"Hey Aar, I have to run some errands for today, while I'm out, can you put the laundry away and keep an eye on the kids? I'm meeting one of my coworkers for lunch and then going grocery shopping for the week. I'll be gone for a few hours."

"I am on the go, all. the. time. Y/n. What do you not understand? When I'm not at working hunting serial killers or psychopaths, dealing with asshole detectives, or confronting families, I'm being nagged by you to do something. Put the laundry away, keep an eye on Jack and Joey while I go out. When do I get to go out? When can I relax? Huh? Tell me that? I just want a day where I can sit at home and relax. No kids to worry about, no wife."

Usually he never had a problem with this, he always tells you to go out and have fun.

"You want that, to be a bachelor basically?"

"Yeah. I do. Just one day, y/n."

You were more furious at the moment than you were upset. You didn't doubt for a second his job was hard, you knew that. But to say he didn't want his wife and kids around for a day, that's what made you mad.

You walked into the living room, towering over him as he was sitting on the couch. You picked up Joey and said, "You can stay here. I'll take the kids, but, don't expect us to come back tonight."

Aaron just looked at you and you walked away to go back a bag and tell Jack to get his bag ready to spend the night at his grandparent's house.

You were hoping Aaron would come and stop you, tell you that he just had a stressful week, but maybe this is what he wanted. Maybe he wanted the bachelor life again, not the responsibility of two kids, maybe he just wanted to be responsible for one kid.

As you packed your bag along with Joey's things, you walked into Jack's room, asking if he was ready to spend the day with you and visit his grandparents.

Every night, the kids were in a routine of Aaron reading them a bedtime story. Aaron, even if away on a case, always found time to call your sons and read them a story.

It had been an hour of you trying to get Joey to bed and he just wouldn’t budge. Picking up Joey, you went into the bedroom that Jack was going to be sleeping in and saw your dad reading to Jack. Your dad loved to read to you as a kid, so to see him read as a grandfather to your kids made your heart so full and happy.

You went to make your way downstairs to sit on the couch until you heard someone knock on the door.

Swinging the door opened, you were a little shocked to see Aaron standing there but then again, you weren’t. You weren’t one to leave after a comment he may have made before, but when he said that he just wants to be left alone, going through life how we went through before he met you.

But maybe he realized how quick you could be gone, if you really wanted, and if he really wanted that lifestyle. You’d rather have him be happy on his own than him be forced to stay in a loveless marriage.

Joey said, “Dada!”

He reached his arm out towards Aaron and let Aaron take him. You weren’t going to deny him if anytime with his kids. Unless he didn’t want that.

“Let’s get Joey to bed, say goodnight to Jack and we’ll talk? I’m not bringing the kids home now. We can just spend the night here or, I can.”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss and you whispered, “You know what. We’ll talk when we get Joey to sleep.”

Aaron nodded and you and him brought Joey up to the room

Shortly after Aaron checked in with Jack and kissed him goodnight, he began to read Joey a bedtime story. Within 15 minutes, Joey was lights out.

You and Aaron went to sit in the backyard on the swing your dad had just hung up out there.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you today. You didn’t deserve that. You do so much for our family. I know you wanted a break. I should have never wished for the bachelor life again. I don’t want that life anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking. I hated trying to find girls to take home before I met you. They find out you’re a single father to a younger kid and they don’t want that. But you were different.”

“I didn’t want to sleep around. I wanted to settle down. That’s why I thought we worked so well. When you snapped all because I asked you to do something, I was really upset with you. We worked hard to get to where we are in our life. I know your job is hard, I don’t doubt that. But, Aaron, my job is hard too. I had to play mom AND dad when you’re gone, sometimes I just need a break too. I know you do as well, but I just thought you would have wanted to spend time with the kids today.”

“I did. I wanted too, but I just. I had a bad day at work yesterday. I woke up from an email from someone I don’t like working with and I’m just. You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I love you. When you walked out with the kids today, I immediately regretted what I said and for not stepping up to be a better father, a better husband.”

When you leaned into him, you felt all the tension leave his body. You couldn’t be mad at him. He was your best friend, your husband, the father to your children. You loved him through the good and the bad.

It would always be you and him and your little family. No words could ruin that.

[sehodreams]

thoughts on dark rich riize buying reader in a human trafficking black market. the reader legally belongs to the buyer.

Damn I like the concept, these are the ones who came to my mind (sorry for the others I couldn't imagine)

Lol not me searching "how do a black market look like? for writing purposes not for illegal purchases" to understand how it worked HAHAHAAHAAHAHA

TW and tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving), dubcon, noncon, slapping, overstimulation, hints of sadism, dom!riize, I can't remember how all the nasty stuff here is called so if someone told me I'd be grateful 🤣

Eunseok

He'd be warm, like, you felt scared to be there, but he'd always talk to you softly, telling you how much he enjoyed your company, your presence, and how beautiful you looked with his gifts.

He'd buy you everything that reminded him of you, his little doll.

He'd be just so nice, soft touches and multiple kisses in day light, but when the night came, you were scared of who would you with that night, would it be your soft owner? Or the other guy? The guy who slapped your face and left hand marks on your neck, or that would sometimes go crazy and let candles drip over your back when he fucked you from behind.

You could never predict what would happen, and he would always repeat the same thing "my doll", because he had to make sure you understood that, you just were his pretty, warm and soft doll.

Wonbin

Wonbin always looked so sweet, he gave the prettiest smiles when he was on those video conferences for work, and you saw him being so kind to others, so why couldn't he be that nice to you?

You'd watch him from your cage, always in front of him, to be comforted with your presence and on his watch to know your every move. You had tried to escape three times, and those were already too many times for him to ever trust you again, so your punishment was to always be behind those bars the time he decided.

He'd let you roam around mostly at night, when he felt like having you even closer, his chest on your back while playing with your little bud, fucking you over the same table you had dinner, or making you suck him after you had your daily bath.

Now, he was pushing the vibrator to your dripping cunt, making you cum until you cried and made a mess over his expensive couch after you told him you wanted to leave after he asked you what would you like for your first month anniversary there.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you'd repeat, crying of overstimulation after your third orgasm.

"I don't think you're sorry enough" he'd smile, whispering to your ear, to then leave pecks over all over your neck. "You need to learn that you're not a guest here, you're my property, so you better get used to your new life"

Anton

You had no family and no friends, so you were the perfect target for the people that took you from your little apartment in the middle of the night, no one asked for you, your coworkers quickly forgot about your existence and then you just... Disappeared. So, when he bought you, you didn't put much fight, tired of your old life, maybe that would be the best, you thought.

There, with him, at least you had a much nicer home, a hot meal every day and what you always wanted, a person to depend on. So, what if he made you wear a collar with his name all the time? And what if you had to wait for him to feed you because if not he'd get angry? You didn't want to make him angry, you wanted to always see that pretty smile telling you how good you were, "such a good girl" he'd say every time you let him take off the little clothes he let you wear, putting his dick inside you when you watched his favorite programs, or when he was playing those silly games that made him insanely rich.

And sometimes he was more than nice, like when he took you shopping in the middle of the night to those stores you couldn't afford in your old life with your disgusting minimum wage, buying you all the food and clothes you'd ever want and need.

And what if those nights he made you walk with a leash? You'd do it all again if you could always be with him.

Shotaro

He was so nice most of the time, buying you expensive dinners, letting you cuddle beside him, making sure you had everything you'd ever need, you ended appreciating him.

It was hard at first, to get used to that lifestyle, not being able to leave the apartment, to lose all contact with your family and friends, even to endure his touches, but you had to get used to it, he was clear when you arrived, the only thing he expected from you was to look pretty, not talk and welcome him with open legs every time he needed.

When you refused at first you had it bad, he'd starve you, talk to you coldly and take you with force, but when you learned how to be the little angel he needed, everything got better, his hands wouldn't furiously touch you anymore, instead he'd caress you with them, touching the little place that got addicted to his attentions, and who needed to talk? now all you needed inside your mouth was his cock when he came after a long day of work, to thank him for everything he did for you

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

It was only supposed to be a one night stand part 6

Tw: yandere stuff, fat shaming from this idiot man here (not towards reader)

Part 7

You won't believe your boss granted you a one-month leave. Well, actually you can. Since you rarely take days off, work is a distraction for you.

When you told Montgomery this, he held you tightly in his arms and sang praises. He's extremely grateful for this and he made it very clear by booking a reservation at a restaurant that is absolutely above his pay grade. Fortunately, though, you managed to convince him to cancel the reservation and stay home instead.

He set up a romantic candle-lit dinner on the dining table, and of course the main dish is some random pricey takeaway. You wondered how the candles haven't tripped the fire alarm yet, only to see that Montgomery replaced its batteries when the dinner is over.

You had a headache when he told you where his hometown is. You don't know if his shitbox can handle a whooping 20-hour drive from your city to his place. You asked why he didn't pick a city closer to home to work in, you're puzzled why he decided to come all the way up here.

"I did. The folks there were mean, so I moved. Thinkin', maybe they're nicer up north." He sighed. "I came to realize that they ain't getting friendlier the further I git. I was dirt poor and stuck in a rut."

He cupped your cheek and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I'm glad I met ya', honey bunch. You saved my life." Montgomery whispered as he pulled you into a loving hug.

That piece of information he revealed made you wonder how many times he moved. It definitely showed that he's resilient and stubborn... and thin skinned.

However, it was impressive how he managed to shun his natural accent and pick up another one so well. You would have never guessed he was from the South, but now you're completely sure he is. That's probably why he was quiet in the beginning. Sometimes it was hard to understand what he was saying because of his drawls and ways of pronouncing certain words, but it's charming nonetheless.

You think that he's getting bolder because he's gradually feeling secure in his place in your life. Too bold, in fact. You think he's possessive now, he doesn't like you having lunches with your coworkers. To the point that he would go up to them and act nice-nasty, he wouldn't outright tell them to leave you alone or act hostile, he would still put on a darling smile. However, your coworkers would still feel attacked and guilted, but he's so... nice! They can't just accuse him of such things, it's probably a Southern thing.

"Nice of y'all to bring my sweetheart to lunch. Now, what am I gonna do with all these since my darlin' is fed without me? Oh, by the way, I see that y'all are lookin' a lot healthier. Don't get too healthy now, too much of a good thing is a bad thing."

Maybe the fact that he's outright calling them fat in a mean-spirited way flew past your head, maybe it didn't. But it definitely landed on theirs.

Montgomery throwing these types of discrete insults would eventually drive your coworkers away, they stopped bringing you with them, not wanting to face your boyfriend's sassiness afterward.

There were times that you would want to surprise him by visiting his worksite. He would be pleasantly surprised every time, but he isn't usually aware of what he has on him when he would come barreling towards you, picking you up, and giving you a bone-crushing hug. You stopped coming to him eventually because you kept going back to work covered in mud, dust, paint, or a combination of the three.

He keeps you away from his peers, who only give you and him amused smiles. Some of them would come up and tease him, congratulating him for getting out of his shell. You asked them what they meant, as this is a good opportunity to know more about Montgomery. They said that he's extremely shy and would hide in his car during lunch, he works hard and is engrossed in his own job. The first time where he got distracted was when he laid eyes on you, which shook them to the core because he was perceived as a reclusive enigma.

Montgomery would look away and not participate in the conversation, feeling moody because he couldn't have your undivided attention. He goes back to his usual romantic self when his coworkers leave him alone.

The date to leave for his hometown is fast approaching. The two of you wrote up a detailed itinerary, well, mostly you. Because he's used to sleeping in his cramped car and using public bathrooms, he completely forgot that not everyone is comfortable with that.

You're sitting on his lap, and a laptop on your, well... lap. Montgomery rests his head on your shoulder, his arms hold you to him tightly as you ask him if he agrees with the choice of motels.

"I'm fine with anythin' you choose, darlin'. He sleepily mumbled, clearly bored. "Ain't no price too high for my baby." He closed his eyes, tired after working a full day with power tools and materials that are quadruple his body weight.

The only sound in the living room is your keyboard clicks. It's pitch dark and the only light source is the screen.

Montgomery began to snore.

You turned your head to look at him, he's definitely out cold. But his grip on you is unwavering.

You stretched your hand to reach for his credit card on the coffee table.

Your eyes flitting between the numbers on his valuable piece of plastic and the computer screen as you typed the necessary details in.

[ro-is-struggling]

New Love || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, past Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: after a long day at work all you want to do is curl up on the couch with Bucky and forget about the existence of the outside world. But things get complicated when the past catches up with you, knocking on your door and asking for your help. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader being a nurse, jealousy, talks of insecurities, mentions of blood, reader being afraid to love again, angst with a happy ending

English is not my first language

Word count: 6600

Notes: this is a continuation of You Ruined Me and Lose Myself but I think you can read it as a stand alone, you just have to know that reader and Matt used to date but broke up because he was still I'm love with Elektra and that now she's dating Bucky

You should have known that today was not your day. You had one of the longest and most stressful shifts at the hospital. Two of your coworkers had called in sick and another had started maternity leave which meant you had to cover the work of three nurses plus your usual work. You had to stay and work overtime which ruined your dinner plans with Bucky. Your relationship was still relatively new and you were excited for every date as if it was your first. You loved spending time with him at your apartment or his, but you loved it even more when you went on dates because you got to see a different side of Bucky. He would turn into a complete romantic, giving you flowers and chocolates, opening doors for you and pulling up your chair and taking you to nice places. It was a little old-fashioned, but in a lovely, charming way. 

When you called him to cancel your plans, Bucky insisted on seeing you anyway. You made it clear to him that you would be home late, but he said it would be no problem. He assured you that he would be waiting for you with dinner ready and a movie to watch while you snuggled up on the couch so you could relax and forget the stress of the day. You let out a chuckle and thanked him, unable to believe you had found such a wonderful man after all. Bucky seemed to be someone ripped straight out of your dreams, your very own romance novel protagonist written by a woman, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world when you were together. 

When you got home Bucky was waiting for you just as he had promised. He used the extra key you had given him in case of emergencies to get in while you were gone and took the liberty of preparing dinner so that you didn't have to do anything but sit and relax when you arrived. You were so tired that you almost cried when you saw the table ready, the delicious smell of freshly cooked food inviting you to sit down. You ran into Bucky's arms, mumbling words of gratitude as you hid in the warmth of his body.

You ate while you told him about some of the things that had happened to you during the day, venting the frustration you felt building up in your shoulders with every word that came out of your mouth. Once you finished, Bucky took charge of clearing the table, refusing to accept your help. He sent you to sit on the couch in the living room and asked you to get everything ready to watch the movie —which was the next one on the list you had made together of all the movies and TV shows you considered an insult that he didn't know about. He joined you a few minutes later, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you close to him as you pressed play. You nestled your head on his chest, the musky scent of his perfume hitting your nostrils and washing away the remaining stress in your system. You felt as if a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders, light and relaxed as you lost yourself in Bucky's body heat. 

But you should have known that the horrible day you'd had could never end on such a positive note. You should have known that things would only get worse. 

You were barely thirty minutes into the movie when you began to hear strange sounds. Fearing it was some kind of weird bug that had somehow found its way into your apartment, you paused the movie to listen more carefully. It was silent for a moment. And then a knock on the glass made you turn your head toward the balcony door. Your eyes widened in surprise upon discovering the figure of a badly wounded man leaning against the glass door.

"Matt?"

It was the first time you had seen him since that rainy night when he had once again broken your heart without even realizing it. However, you were unable to feel anything but concern when you saw the state he was in. His beaten and bloodied body had collapsed on the balcony floor. You ran to him, kneeling beside him so that you could examine his wounds closely. He had cuts and bruises on every visible part of his body. When you touched his abdomen looking for serious wounds he let out a grunt of pain. Your fingers made contact with a thick, sticky liquid and it was then that you noticed the pool of blood that had formed on the floor. 

"This is Matt?" the voice of Bucky echoed behind you. The comment rolled off his lips with a harsher tone than he expected, but luckily you didn't mention anything about it. He remained in the doorframe, watching you attend to Matt with a mixture of surprise and confusion at the circumstances in which he finally met the man he had heard so much about.

"Help me get him inside" you said without even looking up to meet his eyes. 

As Bucky settled Matt on the couch you ran off in search of your first aid kit and a couple of clean cloths to use to stop the bleeding. Kneeling by Matt's side once again, you used a pair of scissors to cut off the shirt he was wearing so you could tend to his wounds more easily. Small cuts and bruises adorned his torso, but the worst injury was the stab wound on the right side of his abdomen. Luckily it didn't seem to be deep enough to have damaged any vital organs, but it was bleeding pretty badly and from Matt's pale and weak appearance you guessed that you didn't have much time to waste. 

Struggling to remain calm, you asked Bucky to put pressure on the wound while you checked Matt's vital signs. His breathing was labored and his heartbeat was weak. He had definitely lost a lot of blood, but you were confident that everything would be okay if you could stop the bleeding soon. So you got to work without wasting another second. While Bucky put pressure on the wound, you concentrated on the minor cuts, cleaning and bandaging each one to make sure they didn't get infected. And as you worked, your mind kept imagining the situation that led Matt to such a state, trying to guess what it was that he was working on now. He had many enemies, some too powerful for it to be a fair fight. You just hoped that none of them were the ones who caused his injuries.

When the bleeding finally stopped you relieved Bucky of his duties so you could start cleaning and closing the wound. Matt had fallen unconscious within a second of being placed on the couch, his body succumbing to the blood loss. But at least that made your job easier, you could disinfect and stitch his cuts without having to deal with his body twitching in pain. 

At no time did you stop to consider how weird the situation you were in was. You were too worried about Matt's health to realize that you were kneeling next to your ex-boyfriend, treating his wounds with extreme care under the watchful eye of your current boyfriend. Your hands were working on Matt's body with great experience not only from your profession but also from the many times you had tended to his wounds in the past. It was amazing to think how despite all that had happened between you, all the pain he had caused you, you still felt the same fear and concern you felt in those days when you were still together. 

"C'mon, Matt. Stay with me, please" you murmured without realizing it, your hand gently caressing his face as you felt a familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach.

Bucky watched the scene from the door frame not knowing what to do. He understood that Matt was in a delicate condition and that it was perfectly normal for you to be worried about him. You were the kindest and most caring person he had ever met and you two had a pretty intense history so Bucky expected you to react that way, especially considering Matt's condition. But at the same time it was that same history that you shared that worried him so much. Bucky knew how much you had loved Matt and how much it had taken you to get over him so naturally he felt upset to see you so close to your ex-boyfriend. 

Maybe it was his insecurities talking, but there was something about the way you looked at Matt that gave him a bad feeling. Your eyes were full of concern as your hands caressed his face with such care, such affection, that it made Bucky wonder if you were really over him. He was now stable, all his wounds had been disinfected and bandaged, yet you were still sitting beside him holding his hand as you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. 

Bucky's blood boiled with jealousy. A lump formed in his throat that tightened with every word he heard leave your lips. Cursing to his enhanced hearing, he disappeared into the kitchen before he ended up doing something he would regret when he came back to his senses. He thought about going home, but if there was one thing he hated more than staying there to witness the scene, it was the thought of leaving you alone with Matt. So he concentrated on washing the dinner dishes, struggling to think about anything other than the way his girlfriend —the most wonderful woman he'd ever met— seemed to still have feelings for her ex-boyfriend.

It wasn't fair. Things were going great between the two of you. Sure, your relationship was fairly new and you were still figuring things out, but you had a great time together and there wasn't a moment of the day when you weren't communicating, talking in person, calling or texting. He had even learned to make video calls to see you for even five minutes on days when your schedules didn't match. That was how much you needed each other, how much you enjoyed each other's company. 

Bucky had begun to feel more confident recently. The voice of insecurity in his mind had been silenced by the affection you showed him and how well your relationship was working. Matt had no right to suddenly show up and tear down all his confidence in a heartbeat. Bucky knew full well that he was extremely lucky to have you by his side. He knew he probably didn't deserve you, but for a moment he had come to believe that you had a future together. And now all of his dreams and fantasies were threatened by the presence of Matt, a man he had once heard you describe as the love of your life. And even though things between you were going well, he wasn't sure he could compete with that. 

Bucky was so deep in thought that he didn't hear you coming into the kitchen. So when he felt the weight of a hand resting on his arm he startled, spattering drops of water in all directions. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in" he apologized for splashing you. 

"It's fine" you replied in a soft tone, reaching out to turn off the faucet, indicating to Bucky that you wanted his attention. He got the message immediately and quickly wiped his hands on the rag resting next to the dishes before turning around so he could look you in the eyes. 

"How's Matt?" he asked to fill the silence that had formed between you.

"He's stable, for now at least. I think he has a few broken ribs but there's nothing I can do to help him with that now."

"Shouldn't we take him to a hospital?"

"Matt doesn't like hospitals. It's best not to argue with him about it, trust me."

An awkward silence formed between you that took you by surprise. You didn't fall into awkward silences. Well, maybe at the beginning of your friendship when Bucky had not yet broken out of his shell, but it had been a long time since you found yourselves in this kind of awkward situation. You were always comfortable and relaxed around each other. Silences happened, but not like this, not with that strange tension in the air. 

You suddenly felt the need to excuse Matt's presence, to make it clear to Bucky that the fact that you had helped him meant nothing. It was ridiculous, Matt had surprised you with his presence and you were pretty sure Bucky understood that your concern was due to the critical state he was in. You trusted him to know that you had eyes for no one else and that Matt was nothing more than a sad memory of something that could not be. Although the tension in the air made you doubt.

"Listen, I wanted to thank you for helping me with Matt," you said with some hesitation, clearing your throat to make sure the words left your lips. "And I wanted to apologize for ruining the night. You were so sweet and caring with everything you did tonight and we couldn't even finish the movie."

"Don't worry about it, doll" Bucky brushed it off. The use of the affectionate nickname made you smile. You loved it when he called you that, it made you feel special. "Matt needed your help. We can finish the movie another day, this was more important."

"You're important too" you were quick to say, a subtle way of reminding him that he was much more important to you than Matt in case he thought otherwise. "I love spending time with you and what you did tonight was really sweet. Our dates are the most important part of my days. And the most fun" you added, reaching out to caress his cheek. Bucky leaned into your touch, letting the warmth of your skin and the love in your words ease the pain in his heart.

"They're the most important part of my days too" he said, and he wasn't lying. The happiest moments of his days were the ones he shared with you. And when you were apart, he looked forward to your reunion. Your company was what kept him grounded, your laughter, a sweet melody that brightened his days every time he heard it. It had been a long time since he had felt a love as intense, as pure, as the one he felt for you. And honestly that scared him a little. You held an immense amount of power over him by holding his heart in your hands and it scared him to think what would become of him if you decided to hurt him. 

Taking Bucky's face in your hands, you leaned in to bring your lips together in a quick but gentle kiss that you hoped would convey what you felt. When you parted, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours, your noses brushing as you gazed into each other's eyes. He admired you in silence, trying to convince himself that everything was fine and that he had nothing to worry about. He saw nothing but love staring back at him, your eyes shining with that special sparkle he loved so much. But still the voice of insecurity inside him made him doubt. 

Bucky wanted to tell you how he felt. He wanted to tell you that he loved you like he had never loved anyone in his life. He wanted to tell you that he was jealous of Matt and that he was afraid of losing you. He was afraid that one day you would realize the big mistake you had made by agreeing to go out with him. He was afraid to hear you say that you were still in love with Matt. He was afraid you would become a memory, a stranger whose laughter he would recognize in a crowd of people. Bucky loved you too much and couldn't bear the thought of losing you. 

He opened his mouth to speak but the words got caught in his throat. And just like that the moment was broken, interrupted by Matt's grunts of pain that warned them that he had regained consciousness. You gave Bucky an apologetic smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips before rushing into the living room to examine Matt. You didn't want to leave him, but you couldn't leave Matt alone either. You just hoped Bucky would understand, that somehow he knew he was the only true owner of your heart.

"For fucks sake, Matt! Lay down, you need to rest" you scolded him as soon as you saw him trying to get up from the couch. He tried to resist you when you tried to force him to lie down, but he was so weak that he wasn't able to put up a fight. "How did you end up like this? I thought you had a suit that protected you."

"I do have one, it's just getting fixed" Matt said with a wince as you checked his wounds to make sure he hadn't opened any stitches.

"You mean you've been running around Hell's Kitchen without any protection all this time?" You spoke with horror in your voice, imagining the kinds of dangers he had been facing without a suit to keep him safe. If even with one he sometimes came home beaten and bleeding you didn't even want to think about how much worse the situation had gotten now that he didn't have one. "Jesus Christ, Matt! Why didn't you come here before?"

"After everything that happened between us I wasn't sure if you would open the door for me."

When you heard Matt's words, you put aside everything you were doing to look at him with a serious expression in your eyes. Sure, you hadn't ended things in the best way. He had made you suffer and yes, for a while you had held a grudge. But that didn't mean you wanted him dead or that you enjoyed his pain. Not even on your worst days would you have thought to slam the door in his face if he came to you for help. You just weren't that kind of person.

"Listen, Matt, I know our relationship didn't end well but I would never refuse to help you with something like this" you said and he was able to hear the honesty in your voice. "I'd rather deal with the tension in the air than have you running around the city wounded and bleeding. You could have died!"

A silence formed as Matt processed your words. You were too good and he definitely didn't deserve you. After everything he had done to you and all the pain he had caused you, you still wanted to help him. Matt felt like an idiot, like the biggest son of a bitch on the planet as your delicate fingers took care of fixing one of the bandages on his chest that had come undone. You were worried about him, inspecting his wounds carefully as you had done so many times in the past. You cared about him despite everything he had done to you.

"I'm sorry" Matt murmured in a calm, sincere voice, resting his hand over yours on his chest. "I'm sorry for everything... for hurting you, for the way I handled our relationship and for the way it ended. You didn't deserve any of that... not a single day goes by without me wishing our story had ended differently.”

You fell silent, taken aback by Matt's words. You had spent many nights imagining this very situation. It was your comfort in your worst moments, fantasizing that he would show up to apologize for how he had treated you. You relieved your frustrations by imagining slamming the door in his face or describing in detail how broken you felt inside so that he would understand the pain he had caused you. But now that it was finally happening you didn't know how to respond. The speeches you had recited over and over in your fantasies no longer matched how you felt. 

And that's how you realized that the wounds in your heart had healed, maybe not completely but enough so that you no longer held a grudge against Matt.

"I'm sorry too" you answered at last and you were being completely honest. You were terribly sorry for the way your relationship had ended, but that was all. You no longer felt hatred or crushing anguish, just mild sorrow about how bad your last moments together as a couple were. It saddened you because you knew that things between you could have been very different, but that was all. 

The sound of Bucky clearing his throat brought you out of your thoughts. As you looked up you met his figure standing tall in the door frame. His eyes were glued to your hands resting on Matt's chest, trapped under his own hands.

"I'm going home" Bucky declared before disappearing down the hallway to the front door, not giving you time to reply before he vanished from your sight.

"Bucky, wait!" you called after him, chasing him to prevent him from leaving without talking to you first. You wanted to make sure he knew nothing was going on between you and Matt, to tell him that your heart belonged to him and no one else. But you didn't know how to express yourself without sounding too intense, so when you caught up with him–-with one foot already out of your apartment—all you could say was, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, doll, I'm fine" he assured you, but you didn't believe him. He looked tense, his demeanor completely different than it had been a couple of hours earlier as you ate dinner and chatted about your day.

"Are you sure?" you insisted, looking at him with your big eyes full of doubt.

"Yes, I'm sure." Bucky sighed. "I'm just tired, doll, and you're very busy with Matt here so I'm just gonna go home and get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You knew that wasn't true, he was clearly upset by Matt's presence there, but you decided not to press him about it. You figured you'd have plenty of time to talk once you were alone, so you nodded your head in agreement. 

You gave him a quick kiss and wished him goodnight before letting him go, closing the door to your apartment as you cursed in your mind. It was all too good to be true. Your relationship with Bucky was going too well so of course something had to happen and mess it up. That was just your luck.

"I'm sorry if I caused any problems with your boyfriend. I didn't know where else to go" Matt spoke from the couch, sensing better than anyone the tension his presence had created between the couple. "He doesn't seem to like me that much so I assume you told him about me."

"It's fine, we just started dating. I'm sure he'll understand. And if he doesn't... Well, he's not the only guy out there. I'll be fine" you said, plopping down on the arm of the couch at Matt's feet. It was a complete lie. You were convinced that Bucky was the last decent man left in the city and losing him would devastate you, but you hoped Matt was too injured to detect your heartbeat. 

"Oh c'mon, Y/N! We both know that's a lie. You really like this guy. I recognize the symptoms, you know.... Your body temperature rises when he's close to you, your heart beats faster when he calls your name... Just like it used to happen when we were dating."

The melancholic tone in Matt's voice and his sad words made you think of the happy days you had shared with him. You remembered the tingle that used to awaken inside you at the mere touch of your skin against his or the way your heart would melt at the sight of his smile. You thought of the way his kisses used to make your knees weak and the sense of calm and security that waking up next to him gave you. Those were all things that until recently you thought you would never experience again. You used to think that after Matt you would never be able to fall in love with someone else, either because of the fear of being hurt again or because you thought you would never be able to get over him. But now hearing him say those things about the way your body reacted to Bucky made you realize that wasn't true. You already knew that you liked Bucky, but you had never taken the time to consider how deep your feelings for him were until this moment.

"I really thought you were the only man for me" you broke the silence, speaking as you stared off into the distance while remembering those dark moments in your past. "When we broke up I thought I'd never be able to fall in love again. This thing I have with Bucky feels... weird, like it's something that shouldn't have happened. It's like I've found a way to trick the universe into giving me a second chance. The problem is, I'm not sure I'm ready to start over. I don't know if I can give myself completely to someone again." You confessed letting out a frustrated sigh, not even considering how strange and probably inappropriate it was that you were opening up like that to your ex-boyfriend.

You loved Bucky and trusted him, but still a small part of you was afraid. You'd had a hard time getting back on your feet after Matt and you weren't sure you were strong enough to do it again if things with Bucky ended badly. 

"I was never the only man for you, Y/N. I'm not even sure I was one of the valid candidates" Matt muttered, letting out a sour laugh. "I was the one who fooled the universe the moment you agreed to go out with me. You were always too good for me. What we had was an illusion, a product of my selfishness."

"No, Matt-"

"It was," he interrupted you before you could convince him otherwise. "It was. I thought I could get on your level, make things work between us, but I was only lying to myself and I ended up hurting you. So please don't close yourself off from love and happiness because of me. Our relationship was never supposed to happen so don't use it as an example for anything."

You didn't know what to answer so you remained silent, reflecting on Matt's words. You didn't agree with him when he referred to himself as unworthy of your love, and even less so when he claimed that your relationship had been a mistake. The love you had felt for him was one of the most intense emotions you had ever experienced in your life up to that point. And even though your breakup had hurt you just as intensely, you didn't regret it at all. Your story was a sad one because you were two compatible people who had been unlucky enough to meet at the wrong time. In the end when it all fell apart it was because Matt was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, not because he was unworthy of your love or anything like that. That was once again a product of Matt's insecurities, which more often than not took over his mind and acted on his behalf. That was something he and Bucky had in common. 

Matt's words kept running through your head even after you retired to your room to let him rest. You laid awake for a while, tossing and turning in bed as you analyzed your situation. You had feelings for Bucky, feelings that only grew with each passing day, and that was something that wasn't going to change. You were already head over heels in love with him. Your fearful mind refused to accept it, but there was no denying the way your heart raced when he was near you. So what was it that made you so scared? Why did you stop yourself every time you were about to confess just how deep your love for him was? You were already screwed so it really didn't make sense to suppress your feelings. Your heart already belonged to Bucky so if things didn't work out between the two of you, you would end up devastated anyway whether you accepted your feelings or not. So the real question you should be asking yourself was, what were you waiting for to do something about it? You were already lost and if you were going to fall you should at least do it right and enjoy the ride down as much as possible.

A wave of confidence suddenly came over you, giving you the courage to get out of bed and leave your apartment in search of Bucky. It didn't matter that it was almost two in the morning or the fact that you were wearing unflattering printed pajamas. All you cared about was communicating your epiphany to Bucky, finally saying out loud what you had been feeling for a long time but had been too afraid to admit.

When you arrived at his door you knocked gently on the wood. You knew he would hear the noise anyway because the super soldier serum coursing through his veins had sharpened his senses. The knocking echoed down the hallway, cutting through the deep silence that filled the stillness of the night. For a moment you thought Bucky was already asleep and wouldn't get up to greet you, but then you heard movement behind the door—a couple of footsteps, creaking wood, a muffled murmur. And then the door opened and the tall, imposing figure of Bucky rose in front of you.

"What are you doing here, doll? Is everything alright?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He looked tired, his hair was messy as if he had just woken up but he didn't have the characteristic expression of having just woken up. He looked at you with relief in his eyes as if all this time he had been waiting for you to show up at his door. You wondered then if maybe he too had spent the night tossing and turning in bed while thinking about your future together.

"I love you" you blurted out without any warning or explanation. You knew that if you struggled to eloquently express your feelings and the thinking path that had led you to that moment you would end up distracting yourself or confusing things. And at this moment you needed to be as clear and direct as possible, so you skipped the unnecessary introductions.

"What?" muttered Bucky with a mix of surprise and confusion in his voice. It wasn't that he hadn't heard you, he had, but he wanted to make sure he had heard you correctly and that it wasn't all the product of some delusion in his brain.

"I love you" you repeated. "I have for a while now, but I was afraid of saying it out loud because, well, I guess it's because that makes it real and you know my history.... Not that I think that you're gonna hurt me like Matt or something, I know you are two different guys with different personalities and all" you rambled. You were nervous and when you got like that you started rambling. It was as if your mouth worked faster than your brain, uttering word after word without having a chance to think about what you were saying until it was too late. 

Luckily for you, Bucky already knew you. He had heard your nervous ramblings on several occasions and honestly he found them adorable. So while you talked without stopping to breathe he just smiled. He smiled because you were the most adorable woman on the planet. He smiled because despite what his insecurities told him, you loved him and didn't seem to want to go anywhere. He smiled because he loved you too and had spent the last few weeks biting his tongue to avoid blurting it out at the most inconvenient times, afraid that it would scare you away from him. 

"Doll," Bucky interrupted you, placing one of his hands on your cheek to force you to look at him. You immediately fell silent as you felt his touch on your skin, losing yourself in the deep ocean of his eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks as you finally realized you were wandering, though the smile on Bucky's face helped ease your embarrassment. "I love you too."

And with those simple four words he was able to melt away all the fear that was spinning in your head, replacing it with a warm and fuzzy feeling that you could only describe as pure happiness coursing through your veins. 

Without another word Bucky stepped forward and closed the distance that separated you, joining your lips in a kiss. Fireworks exploded inside you, multicolored sparkles flashing behind your eyes as Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body against his bare chest. He was kissing you with the same fervor as always, his lips moving expertly in perfect sync with yours, but somehow it felt different. And it was because it was the first kiss you shared without pressure or doubt, fear or insecurity. There were no questions about what the other felt going around in your heads or doubts about the future of your relationship. You both knew now what the other was feeling. You both knew that you were just as madly in love and that you were willing to do whatever it took to make your relationship work. It was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, freeing you from the chains of fear and insecurity and giving you a sense of confidence and security that was reflected in the way your lips moved.

Soon the kiss that began soft and tender turned passionate and desperate. Your hands explored Bucky's bare chest as you clung to his lips. He used his super soldier strength to lift you up, taking you in his arms unexpectedly and forcing you to entwine your legs around his waist. You didn't break the kiss at any point, your lips caressing each other desperately as Bucky walked blindly into his apartment, kicking the door shut. You clung to his broad shoulders for support as he walked to the living room, dropping onto the couch with you on his lap. You let out a squeak of surprise at the impact followed by a laugh that vibrated against his lips.

Bucky smiled against the kiss, but even that wasn't enough to separate you. On the contrary, you took advantage of the new position to deepen the kiss, letting your curious hands explore every inch of exposed skin you came across. It was as if you were physically incapable of pulling away from each other. You had been in that position several times since you had started dating—your movie nights didn't always end when the credits rolled—, but never before had you felt that way. You were desperate to physically prove that your words were real, to express with your bodies how deep your love truly was.

You used your advantageous position on Bucky's lap to dominate the situation. You buried your fingers in his long chestnut hair, intertwining your fingers in the strands as you caught his lower lip between your teeth and nibbled the sensitive skin gently. He let out a deep moan that awakened a tingle inside you. Tightening your grip on his hair, you tilted his head back to expose his neck. He didn't protest, moving his head to the side to give you better access to his soft spots. You smiled at his predisposition and moved your wet kisses down his jaw to his neck. You already knew his sensitive spots very well so you wasted no time and attacked the soft skin under his ear with your lips. Bucky's hands tightened their grip on your waist, trying to control his urges as you nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin of his neck. 

You continued your torturous path of wet kisses down his neck to his collarbone, gently biting the skin before caressing it with your tongue and sucking to relieve the burning. Without realizing it you moved your kisses to his left shoulder, delicately caressing with your lips the scars that adorned the skin that merged with the metal. You didn't think much of it, you were just showing your love in a physical way to your boyfriend. But Bucky tensed under your touch and carefully pulled you off his body, placing his hand under your chin so you could look into his eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked with caution. Feeling your lips on his scars had reminded him how fucked up he was and how bad it was to drag you down with him. "I'm a mess, doll. I'm broken in ways you can't even imagine and I don't know if I can be fixed." His voice cut off a little as he spoke, his eyes glistening with the tears he was trying so hard to hold back. Your heart broke into pieces as you saw the pain reflected in the blue of his eyes and you swore at that moment that you would do everything in your power to erase it from his gaze forever.

You placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin of his face as a small smile formed on your lips. Bucky leaned over your hand, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. You were looking at him with pure adoration in your eyes, something that made his heart race and at the same time made him want to close his eyes. You had never looked at him that way before so he was not used to the attention. He felt self-conscious under the intensity of your gaze and wanted to escape from it, yet at the same time it made his heart pound with joy as a warm feeling filled him completely.

"Who isn't a little broken inside these days?" you replied to his doubts before leaning in and bringing your lips together again in a kiss.

There was a lot of truth behind your words. Humanity was full of people broken inside. Some were in worse condition than others. Some had more tragic stories than others. But they all had some kind of damage. That didn't mean they were any less deserving of love. On the contrary, they deserved as much as everyone else to find someone to trust, someone to lean on. They deserved to have someone by their side willing to listen to their pain and help them through it. And you were willing to be that someone for Bucky, just as he was willing to be that someone for you.

"I'm just saying" Bucky spoke as you parted, a bright smile plastered on his face. "Because I don't think I can ever let you go."

"I'm counting on it."

[griffin-girl-r]

My mom's other girl

Created: 06.11.2022

Finished: 26.12.2022

Edited: 13.09.2023

Age: 7

Word count: 2,370

Warnings: None

Request: Yes (Tumblr user)

Pairing: WandaNat

Note: This is a Mama!Wanda story and it's the only one I will write for Wanda in this context.

Summary: Wanda introduces her girlfriend to her daughter for the first time.

—

You patiently waited while swinging your legs for your mom to tell you the big news she was dying to tell you for quite some while.

Wanda had been in an official relationship with Natasha for almost 8 months but she hadn't introduced her to you until now because she wanted to make sure Natasha would be a permanent feat in her life and then, of course, in yours. She didn't want her little baby to get attached to someone who would later leave them alone and heartbroken.

Wanda couldn't bear the thought of her little girl suffering because she wasn't able to choose wisely the persons she introduced in your life.

But Wanda was sure this time that Natasha was that one person she had been looking for her entire life.

Wanda could feel it.

Truth be told, Wanda felt the same way about your father as she felt about Natasha.

But unfortunately he passed away and Wanda thought she would never love again.

That was until Natasha asked her out for dinner and she said yes.

The rest is history.

—

"Mommy, can you please say what you have to say already!" You whined bored, pulling Wanda out of her own thoughts

Your mom kneeled down in front of you and placed her hands on your knees as she gave you a small unsure smile.

Wanda cleared her throat and then took a deep breath in "Look, baby girl... What mommy has to tell you it's very important and for certain things to continue I'll need your permission, sweetheart, because no one will ever be as important to me as you are."

You slightly nodded not being fully sure about what she was going to say next.

"So a few months ago, mommy started going out with one of her coworkers." Wanda slowly explained as she carefully watched your reaction "Her name is Natasha and she's a really nice and kind girl that makes me feel happy just like your daddy used to do."

The witch took a moment to silently think about the words she was going to say next.

"So I invited her to come over for dinner so you could meet her and see if maybe you'll like her to be around here more..." Wanda raised her shoulders as her voice pitched a little at the end of the sentence

"Sure..." You shrugged "That's all, Mommy?"

Wanda nodded "Yes, baby, that was all."

You stood up and walked over to your dolls and toys that were patiently waiting for you on the carpet in the middle of the room.

"She took it better than I expected." Wanda quietly mumbled under her breath

Your mom stood up too, kissed your head, and walked to the kitchen to start getting everything ready for tonight.

—

You were watching cartoons in the living room when you heard the doorbell ring.

"Y/N, sweetheart, can you open the door, please?" Wanda shouted from her room where she was still getting ready

Wanda felt that Natasha was the one at the door, otherwise she would have never let you open that door alone without her being there.

"Yes, Mommy!" You shouted back as you quickly made your way towards the door

Opening it, you found standing there a beautiful woman with the brightest red hair you have ever seen.

"Hello there!" Natasha smiled nervously at you

"Hi!" You beamed up "I think you are Mommy's friend?" You thought for a second about her name really hard "Umm... Natacha?"

Natasha silently giggled "It's Natasha with an 's' but yes, that's me, little one. And you must be Y/N. Your mom talks all the time about you."

"She does?" You smiled widely

Natasha nodded "She does."

Remembering that you were supposed to let the redhead in, you slightly moved aside to make way for her to step inside.

Natasha softly smiled at you as she entered the house.

"Do you want to watch cartoons?" You asked hopefully

"Sure... I can do that." Natasha unsurely answered

You were way too comfortable around strangers but Natasha was grateful that you weren't ignoring her.

"Where's your mom?" Natasha asked looking around the room

"Oh, Mommy is in her room." You looked up at Natasha "She's still getting ready." You whispered then giggled

Natasha quietly chuckled.

"Before she comes here I have something for you." The woman said

"You do?" You started jumping up and down excited "What is it, Natty?"

Natasha smiled at the nickname you gave her and right then and there she decided she always wanted to hear you calling her 'Natty'.

Natasha pulled out from behind her a cute brown teddy bear and, bending down, she held it in front of you "I don't know if you like bears or stuffed toys at all but I hope you'll like my little gift."

You looked at the bear for a second and Natasha was starting to get worried that you didn't like her present.

But suddenly a big smile formed on your face and you quickly grabbed the teddy bear from her hand, hugging it tightly.

"I love it!" You excitedly smiled at the woman in front of you "Thank you so much, Natty!"

Natasha smiled widely at you and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding until now.

But much to her surprise, you jumped in her arms without a warning and hugged her tight.

The redhead was taken aback by your hug and for a second she stood frozen in place.

Coming back to her senses, Natasha gently wrapped her arms around you "You're very welcome, sweetheart." She smiled

Natasha wasn't the only person you took by surprise with your hug.

Wanda who just then was making her way downstairs to greet Natasha, stopped at the middle of the staircase and silently steared at you and Natasha gently hugging each other.

And at that moment Wanda knew that you and Natasha would get perfectly along. All her worries have been for nothing.

—

"Look at my two favorite persons in the entire multiverse getting along so well." Your mom's cheerful tone made you break the hug between Natasha and you "Hi, Nat!" Wanda greeted the spy with a warm smile as she took the last few steps and started walking in the direction her girlfriend was

"Hi, Wands!" Natasha smiled back softly but did not try to make any move on kissing Wanda since you were in the room too "You look absolutely amazing tonight."

Wanda blushed "I could say the same thing about you, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha smirked "Don't even get me started... "Mommy"."

Wanda blushed harder at Natasha's words, the pink on her cheeks turning into a dark red.

"Yeah... She's my mommy. Why do you ask, Natty?" You innocently asked Natasha with a look of pure confusion on your face

"Oh for no reason at all, Y/N." Natasha silently giggled

"I get that now you're my mom's other girl but only I'm allowed to call her 'mommy' okay?" You stated with a hint of possessiveness in your little high-pitched voice

"Of course, I'm only your mommy, baby." Wanda said as she quickly tried to change the subject "But how about we go eat?! Hmm?! I made your favorite."

Your's and Natasha's faces light up and without any hesitation, both of you said at the same time "Pasta with chicken?!"

Then as quick as the wide smiles appeared on your faces just as quickly they faded away as you and Natasha turned to look at each other, utter confusion written all over your faces.

Wanda let out a loud laugh that she couldn't hide "Yes, you silly girls. I made pasta with chicken. Now let's go eat before it gets cold."

Picking you up and putting you on her hip, Wanda broke the confused staring contest between her daughter and her girlfriend and guided Natasha towards the kitchen while carrying you in her arms.

Natasha shook her head as she tried to hide the smile that had appeared on her face.

Who would have guessed she would get along so well with her girlfriend's daughter from the first moment they met?

Surely not her.

—

The dinner went on smoothly and you and Natasha seemed to have so many things in common.

Much to Wanda's delight you and Natasha were forming a fast and strong bond.

You three laughed, shared stories, and told silly jokes throughout the dinner.

But everything has an end and sadly this beautiful evening was coming to an end too.

—

Natasha helped Wanda wash the dishes, ignoring Wanda's loud protests about how she was the guest tonight and shouldn't help her.

After that, Wanda called you to come and say goodbye to Natasha as the older woman was about to go back home.

You left your spot where you were sitting on the carpet in the living room watching cartoons and hesitantly made your way towards the front door where your mom was handing Natasha her jacket, dragging your feet in the process.

If you were being honest, you didn't want Natasha to leave. She was so much fun and you now loved her so much.

You couldn't allow her to leave.

"Natty?" You shily called the woman who was about to put her jacket on

"Yes, Y/N?" Natasha softly answered trying to look at your face but you refused to look up from the ground

"Do you really have to leave?" Your voice broke as you tried to keep in the tears that were about to leave your eyes

Natasha shared a confused glance with Wanda as if asking the witch what was going on.

Wanda just lifted her shoulders as a response to Natasha's confused look then shifted her worried gaze down at you.

"Well yes, little witch." Natasha answered cautiously "It's time for me to go back to my home. It's late and you and your mommy need to go to bed but if you want I can stop by tomorrow."

You sadly nodded unsatisfied by the answer you just got "I thought that now that you and mommy were married you'll stay here..."

Wanda softly placed a hand on your shoulder "Baby we talked about this. Me and Natasha aren't married. She's just my girlfriend. It's only normal that she comes and goes."

"Listen, kid." Natasha placed her hands on your arms "Me and Wanda are not married yet. We still need time to get to know each other better and you and I also need time to know each other better. I'd love to stay but it's too soon."

Natasha gently lifted your chin with her fingers only to see your little face tear strained, instantly making her heart drop.

Wanda went to reach and wipe your tears away but before she got the chance, Natasha had already pulled you in a tight hug.

You wrapped your legs around her waist as Natasha picked you up, refusing to let go of you.

The sight in front of her made Wanda's heart melt in an instant. Her two girls hugging and comforting each other.

"Please stay, Mama!" You cried on Natasha's shoulder

Natasha's side-to-side rocking stopped as well as her breathing.

Wanda freezing in the place she was watching you two interact from.

"What did you just call me?" Natasha's voice waved full of emotions

"Please don't leave me, Mama!" You cried again "Stay..."

Natasha's grip on you tightened and she gently put her head on top of yours "I'll stay, baby girl. If you want me to stay, Mama will stay."

She let a few tears escape her eyes before kissing the top of your head.

Wanda was about to break the moment between Natasha and you knowing that you usually threw this type of tantrum when you were really tired and she wasn't blaming you, it was a long day for you after all.

Just before the brunette got the chance to take you from Natasha, the redhead softly started singing a song that Wanda only guessed it was a Russian lullaby.

Totally ignoring her girlfriend, Natasha made her way towards the couch and sat down while she kept singing and gently rocking you from side to side.

She then and there decided that she never wanted to hear you calling her 'Natty' again.

She always and forever wanted to hear you call her 'Mama' and she was ready to do whatever was necessary to stay in your and your mother's lives.

Wanda wanted to be the one that was comforting her baby but she knew that Natasha, as well as you, needed this moment together.

—

You were fast asleep in Natasha's arms, still tightly clinging to her shirt even in your sleep, as Natasha gently lay down on the couch with you on top of her, tucking the bear she got you under your arm as kept humming.

When Natasha's humming chased down, Wanda started making her way to the couch ready to apologize to her girlfriend for her daughter's tantrum and take you up to your room before leading Natasha once again to the door.

Wanda's worried look turned into a big smile and she sighted in reliefe when she saw that Natasha was also asleep, the redhead's arms securely wrapped around Wanda's daughter.

The witch quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket and took a picture of her girls sleeping while hugging one another.

After the picture was taken, Wanda quietly took a blanket and covered you and Nat with it then gently kissed Natasha's forehead and the back of your head.

"My girls..." Wanda whispered with a smile on her face "I love you both so much."

—

This wasn't the usual "First bring your girlfriend home to meet your daughter night" she expected.

No.

It was something much better than a regular first dinner.

It was the first family evening spent together.

Wanda knew for sure now that this was the sight she wanted to see every night from now on before falling asleep and every morning after waking up for the rest of her life.

And, for sure, starting from that night Natasha never left her girls again.

[boo8008]

Three Months - Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader Chapter 02: Mince

Prologue | Chapter 01: Quadriller | Chapter 02: Mince

Series Summery: Its been one year since The Bear's soft open, and with everything running smoothly, Carmen's lost in his thoughts, until the final table of the night is seated.

Warnings: angst | fluff | ghosting mention | mentions of suicide | language | mental health | pining | unrequited love????? | substances (alc & weed) | yelling | grief | descriptions of panic attacks | eventual smut | mention of covid | self doubt | no proofreading just sleep deprivation & back pain running this show | awkwardness & cringe of a new friendship/relationship/situationship

Chapter Summery: After the minor introduction of you and Carmy, your about to prepare the first dinner post Covid and before Stevie and Michelle leave, one Carmen is also coming to. Only cooking dinner is not going as smoothly as you'd hoped.

Mince (v.) - to finely divide food into uniform pieces smaller than diced or chopped foods, prepared using a chef's knife or food processor

Word Count: ~3,865

My Notes bb: Hey….. How yall doin? Sorry this took so long to get out, work and life suddenly got busy and I didn't have time to write. I hurt my back though so it kinda forced me to write and crank this out. Hopefully its not as bad I as I still feel like it is but yea. Again sorry this took so long to get out. Hope you enjoy! (ps my therapist thinks this is a decent outlet though lol thanks Sandra)

2021 (December)

Carmen hardly ever came to dinner after those first few weeks, and Michelle said something about him working at Eleven Madison Park. While you were happy he head ended up at the high end restaurant, you knew he was working under one hell of an asshole. He seemed to be doing fine enough though. Granted, you would only catch small glimpses of him on nights when you stayed later than intended and he walked only into his room to sleep, with just a small mumbled ‘hi’ thrown your way. Eventually he managed to move out on his own and only came to dinner about once every two months when Michelle would insist on it.

Once covid hit though, you'd basically lost contact with him. Michelle even rarely managed to drag him into group facetime calls with you. They were mainly her or Stevie recounting their last two weeks of quarantine in a dramatic fashion and you and Carmen would be  listening half heartedly. If Carmen was there, he seemed to just sit out on a fire escape in his building and smoke, thinking about other things. Everytime you picked up though, missing being around the two people you actually liked. You would use it as a little reprieve from writing yet another ‘easy recipes for quarantine’ article, or to have company while you organized and re-organised random spots throughout your apartment. 

Mostly though you would use it to get away from the depressive thoughts of ‘what am I doing with my life?’ or ‘if something happened to me, only Michelle and Stevie would really know.’ you didn't realize how much you missed being around people until you couldn't anymore, just stuck with yourself and your cat in your apartment. You missed the mindless chatter from coworkers at your office and in person interviews with cranky chefs because they gave you more to think about than yourself. All you began to think about was how bad the piece you were working on was, even if your editor said it was great. You felt tired and tired of being tired. All you wanted was to have a nice dinner with Stevie and Michelle, and fuck even hearing from Carmen would be amazing even if it was another awkward conversation with someone you just barely knew.

In short covid sucked ass and made your already anxious brain even worse. Not to mentioned your sense of time became fucked and all of your normally scheduled daily things also hard to keep track of. While quarantine had somewhat ended, you all found yourselves too busy trying to get back into the groove of ‘normalcy’ and offices to have dinner again, canceling for meetings or being too tired. Leading to today, when after months of planning and rescheduling you had completely forgotten that dinner was not only being held at you place, but you were also cooking because Michelle and Stevie had nothing in their kitchen because they were leaving two weeks early to isolate before Christmas in Chicago, and to top it all off, Carmen was (for once) coming to dinner. You remembered only when Stevie sent you a text asking what time worked best to come over, and not wanting to cancel for the tenth time, you told them 7:00. So you left work early to run for the subway, then run to the grocers to get real food, and then ran home to start cooking. 

Only cooking was not going as planned. 

It was 6:30 and dinner was nowhere near done. It was like you had forgotten everything you knew about actually cooking, and you’re a food journalist for Christ's sake! This should have been something you could do fairly easy! You write about things like this all the time! Yet here you are, chicken suddenly burning in the oven from when you stepped away to check your recipe to make sure everything was going okay and you that were good to start the pasta. You quickly removed the now pucks from the oven and turned it off. You resolved to just sitting on the floor across from your oven and crying, thinking about where it all went wrong-not the dinner but everything. Quiet sobs racked your body as you sad down on your kitchen floor, forgetting about your phone and the fact your last text said “doors unlocked when you get here”.

Carmen didn’t want to go to dinner but knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from Michelle if he didn’t show up. And to be frank he wanted her to stop calling him a hermit too. So he grabbed his jacket after lunch service and headed home to shower and change, doing his best to not think of his shitty boss saying he was worthless for taking one evening off. He hadn't done that even during covid, constantly asking what the plan was or if the kitchen was open. He decided to head out early to your place sending a quick text and leaving. As he approached your door he could definitely smell burning, very unlike the pre-covid dinners you made. While not Michelin level, what you made were perfect home cooked and leftover meals to him. A nice change from his go to PB&Js with Doritos and a Coke. He checked his phone again making sure the apartment number was right and reread your last text again. He still knocked on the door before he opened it, out of habit. 

“Yo its me,” Carmen called out, peeling off his jacket as he looked around the entryway of your small apartment. You jumped at the knock and stood up as the door opened, and as Carmen called out, you turned to face the sink in your kitchen.

“In here!” your voice was wobbly but you preyed he wouldn't notice. Carmen followed the sound and walked into the kitchen, seeing the blackened chicken on the stove and the mess of the rest of the kitchen. 

“Jesus, the fuck did you try to cook?” he said it without thinking, and immediately you broke again. Crumbling in on yourself and to tired to try and hide it. Tears raining down your face and carmen short circuited, watching as you again sunk to the floor in a puddle. 

“Shit fuck I-I’m sorry. Fuck! Wh-what can I do? What do you want me to do? Fuck sorry I-I’m bad at this.” he panics as he looks down at you crying. “Wh-want me to go? I-I can go- I should go. Shit, Sorry again.” 

“S-s-stay?” 

“What?” Carmen's pretty sure he heard wrong, after all he just caused you to meltdown from his social awkwardness. 

“S-stay?” you say more clearly. You don't know why you ask it, let alone how it crawls out of your crying, shaking self. Its been so long sense you've been near someone else even a little close to you so maybe that's it. He stops for a minute looking down at you as you look up at him still crying. “Please?”

“... O-okay.” 

He isn't sure why he stays, or why he sits down next to you while you cry, but he does. The apartment is quiet outside of you sniffles and the occasional sob but carmen stays put. Neither of you realize how much you've started leaning towards each other until your head  is lightly lying on his shoulder. You’ve mostly stopped crying now but your face is still wet and your eyes are puffy. 

He isn't sure what to say, with his mom asking if you were okay was off limits. It made everything worse. It lead to screaming and yelling and throwing things. He thinks about what someone normal, someone like Stevie, or Pete, or Natalie, what they would ask someone they hardly know if they saw them having a panic attack and decides to just do it, praying you’d be somewhat normal compared to his mother.

“You-you okay?” you'd almost forgot he was there, even if you were leaning on him, and sat up straighter, wiping your face.

“Yea, I’m-I’m sorry dinners ruined and for getting like that,” you say. Tears of embarrassment springing up at knowing that this (basically) stranger saw you cry. 

“No no your fine-your cool,” he can feel panic rising again at making you cry again. “No no no offense but I-I was kinda in the mood for pizza anyways.” He's only partly lying, he wanted a home cooked meal but the pizza place he passed on his way here smelled greasy and amazing on his empty stomach. 

“Are you sure? I still have the kitchen to clean and I just don't want you all to think that I don't care o-or anything that i-its our last dinner before you guys go back to Chicago for Christmas and I just-” 

“Yea, your fine , its fine if we have pizza, I’ll text Michelle to grab it on their way over, they wont mind.”

“Okay…” you mumble, caving in on the choice of pizza and leaning your head back on the cabinet behind you. Carmens already pulling his phone out of his pocket when he spots the new texts from Stevie and Michelle on his lock screen. 

Stevie: ‘Sorry gang, we dont think we can make it tonight, we still have a lot to pack 😕’

Michelle: ‘Yea I’m sorry i know its so close to dinner but maybe you two can get along without us????’ 

Michelle: ‘Sorry again lovelies xoxo 😘’

Michelle: ‘Dont be a dick carm 💛😘’

“Well fuck,” Carmen mumbled. He was now on his own to make conversation. “Looks like its just us for dinner. ‘Said they still have packing to do.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. Of course the universe would have the only two people you could actually converse with busy on the one night you were meant to see them. 

“Yea…” Carmen wasn't sure how to proceed. Does he leave cause the only bridge between you both isn't showing? Does he stay because he already committed to dinner? God he feels so awkward.

“Well we could still get pizza?” you ask. “I mean you came all this way so it kinda feels like a waste.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, I mean I still gotta clean the kitchen but theres a place around the corner thats amazing after crying,” you say with a bit of a laugh to help bring up the awkward mood.

“Let me help you and we can go?” he suggests, already rising to his feet and offering you a hand.

“Are you sure? I mean the chicken I think is welded on there at this point,” you say. As your taking his hand and he pulls you to stand from your floor, you see his forearms flex and your mind short circuits as you look probably a second longer than you need to at the muscles and veins there. Luckily he doesn't notice because he's already turning and grabbing the now cool baking sheet with the chicken on it. 

“Yea it’ll go faster, I think I can get this off too,”  Carmen quickly took charge of washing the bowls, cutting boards, and other kitchen utensils you had pulled out in your frenzy to cook dinner on time. 

In nearly no time at all the kitchen was clean and the two of you had left for the pizza parlor a block away. While yes the cleaning was a little awkward, the noise of the city on the walk made making any conversation difficult, meaning neither of you had to talk or struggle to make conversation. 

“Pepperoni good?” Carmen asked as the two of you stood awkwardly next to each other, both of your jackets zipped all the way up thanks to the near unbearable cold outside.

“Y-yea, they make bomb garlic knots too if you want some,” you responded, skimming over the menu even though you already knew what the plan was. 

“C-cool, um,” Carmen looked around the small shop, there was just the counter and a cooler for drinks, no seating. The place reminded him of the beef, dingy, and not that healthy, but god damn was this about to be the best food he could ever get. “Did you want to go back to your place? Cause… cause there's no tables and stuff…” Carmen cringed at the awkward way the words came out. 

“Yea if that's good with you?” you said taking a step forward, the two of you would look at each other before looking away, as if the tiled flooring was so interesting. You decided to take a page out of Stevie’s book, he was better with people than you were so you prayed the attempted joke would land. “I mean we could eat out in the cold if your more comfortable?” A smile pressed its way onto Carmen’s face and you considered that a victory. 

“Yea no, I love eating outside when its about to snow,” he snickered. “Reminds me of home.” You both shifted closer as the people in front of you pushed pass you both to leave with their pizzas. As you both stepped up to the counter Carmen was faster than you in not only placing the order, a large peperoni with a side of garlic knots, but also whipping out his wallet and paying, you on the other hand had barely stumbled out a hello and barely started shifting your bag to get out your own wallet by the time he was done.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled as you both stepped off to the side to wait.

“Yea well, its cool I got the money,” Carmen added. You only partly doubted it, he worked at the highest rated restaurant in the world but also lived in New York so it kinda balanced out. You both distracted yourselves for a few minuets looking at your phones, you taking to a word search game and Carmen playing the fun game of ‘who is this and why do I have their number?’ with his contacts. It felt a little more relaxing compared to earlier, more like the same air you both got when Stevie and Michelle would leave the room at your normal dinners, not pressured to talk but liking the fact another person was next to you.

“Order 447!” you and carmen both jumped as the number was yelled through the small shop. Carmen stepped forward and took the box and bag from the worker, turning to you, where you grabbed the bag and began to head out before he got up the words to protest that he's got it. 

Luckily the only awkward part of the walk back to your apartment was the elevator ride up. As you both stepped into your apartment you were both greeted by the loud yelling of your cat as she rounded the corner to yell at you for leaving for a whole 30 minuets.

“Yea yea your fine baby,” you told her as you took the pizza from Carmen. “You good with just sitting on the couch? I don't want to do anymore kitchen cleaning.”

“Heard,” Carmen carmen said as he took off his jacket. He was looking down at the feline weaving between his legs and bent down to let her sniff him so he could pet her, instead she smelt him and abruptly ran back deeper in the apartment and he smiled a little at the cat, following it with his eyes to you coming out of the kitchen with two cans of coke, paper plates, and paper towels. Something in him stirred at the mundane and domestic sight but he waved it off as more anxiety.

“Wait-shit-your not allergic to cats are you?” you asked panicked.

“N-no,” Carmen's voice broke a little as he said it and he cleared his throat. “No… My, um, my mom never let us have one when I was a kid, something about the furniture. I always wanted one though.” Why’d his voice break like that? Why’d he bring up his mom? Fuck now he's gonna have to explain everything.

“Cool-cool,” you were turning to head deeper into the apartment again and Carmen followed, getting a better look at the place now that he wasn't rushing to the kitchen. “That's Mince, cause when I got her she was tiny and I wasn't thinking ahead.” He took in the living room, a nice, small sectional couch with a blanket over the back was against one wall, and a tv with bookcases full of nick-nacks and heavy looking books with holiday lights around it. The center of the room had a buttery carpet and the coffee table with the pizza and garlic knots on it. 

“Make yourself at home,” you added. You’d never felt more aware of your actions than now, as Carmen looked at more of your space with posters and pictures around it and you were just trying to tell yourself to act normal. He took in the dining table with four perfectly mismatched chairs that was tucked into a corner on the other side of the wall from the kitchen. Mince catches his attention from the couch, batting at his hand from her spot on the arm rest. He again goes to pet her only for her to skip off and run to the opposite end where you are. Carmen finally takes a seat on the couch, the two of you as far as you could be. You both dig into the pizza and Carmen can’t help but think about how good it is. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. It definitely compensates for the shitty morning he had and the rollercoaster of emotions he felt around you.

“Right?” you said through a smile. You were turning on the tv and poking around for something to watch. 

“‘S so fucking good,” he said through another bite. “Chicago is still better though.” he mumbled.

“Fuck off,” you finally settled on Bobs Burgers that you left off on. You both ate in a mostly comfortable silence, focusing on the show and avoiding looking at each other. Once you felt you were full you settled back into the couch, and glanced at carmen sitting in your space, he had made himself more comfortable, and he looked nice there, leaned up against the arm of the couch with one arm draped over the back of the couch fiddling with a part of the blanket and his legs spread wide. You shifted your focus back to the television not wanting to make it more weird. 

“So… did you finish packing already?” you settled on conversation to distract you from the thought of crawling into his lap. “For Chicago I mean.”

“Oh um,” Carmen was a little startled by the sudden conversation, but fuck it you already cried in front of him today, it was his turn to share. “N-no I’m just staying here, rather not watch my mom drive the car through a wall and my brother fight my uncle again.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry,” Steve had told you some of what happened that Christmas, mainly summarized as a big blowout of a fight between Michelle’s cousin Mikey and her kinda-uncle Lee, and her aunt Donna driving her car through the living room. God why'd you bring this up? He probably didn't want to talk about it. “Did you have any plans then?” Please let this be a decent change of topic you think.

“Just work, go home, smoke and eat, sleep, just like the last two years,” he says with a sigh. “Wh-What about you?”

“No, I was just gonna stay in and watch some movies.” Carmen answers with an affirming ‘hm’, not wanting to overstep and ask more questions. Even with the both of you wanting to talk more, neither of you know how to go from here. You turn you attention back to the television as Carmen turns his head a little to quietly observe you. 

Curled up in the corner of the couch in a cozy, old, and ratty sweatshirt with some leggings and fuzzy holiday grippy socks, hair down, and face still a little puffy from the winter air and your tears, but still beautiful in the darkening light of your apartment, mundanely so. Not a supermodel ripped from the cover of vogue, or an unobtainable influencer with hair and makeup perfectly placed for pictures. You look like you belong there. You look real. Cozy and warm on your couch with the lights from the streets down below hitting you just so. Home he thinks, before quickly turning his attention back to the tv. Its not like he’d ever have a shot with you anyways, he’s always too busy, or too angry, or too much of an asshole in general. Where’d all of those thoughts even come from? He hardly ever felt at home with anyone, especially outside of the kitchen. 

As the show plays on the two of you get lost in it and enjoying the act of being alone together, occasionally steeling glances at each other. You find yourself kind of liking being with him, not necessarily talking or interacting but the feeling of another person in the same room as you feels nice. Carmen won't say it but he's enjoying himself too. The show and coziness of your apartment make him feel relaxed more than his barren dingy apartment ever could, and the abundance of stuff artfully placed helps give him something to look at and think on rather than get lost in his anxiety and self doubt. Why does she have a Halloween decoration out its December…right? He thinks. Your both trying to think on how to ask for what you want but you beat him too it. Probably because you grew up with Steve and his weird ball of encouragement always on your side.

“Did you want to hang out? On Christmas I mean,” you finally get the courage to ask. Phew, not that bad.

“I mean I-I don't want to intrude,” Carmen starts. “Plus I have work the next day.”

“You could sleepover? If-if you want,” you prepose. “We can still smoke, eat, and sleep if you want. All the traditions you enjoy, a-and I don’t think I’m far from the line you need?” 

You definitely aren't. In fact your apartment is somehow on a faster route to work than his own. The only reason you know is because of the Bake It Nice pop up bakery Eleven Madison Park does once a month that you always try to make time for. Carmen thinks on it for a second, and your sure he's looking for a way to let you down nicely.

“You sure your okay with me leaving at 5:00 in the morning?” he asks. 

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and something in Carmen stirs. “Plus I can pass the fuck out again when you leave anyways.” he smiles at that, still unsure what feeling he's having right now, but he likes it.

“Okay,” he says and you both return you attention back to the show smiling like children. Your legs a little more outstretched towards carmen and his body begging to sink further into your couch. Relaxing to the feeling of you.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 3- Post #11: Well, hell's bells

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 5.6K (of 45K total in Volume 3)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, 18+ *NSFW*

_____________________________________

XI. “Oh! And I bought a rice cooker,” Nito adds triumphantly, leaning into the holo-transmitter with a wide grin. In his lap, the kid’s ears are just visible, perking up at the sound of your voice.

“Wait! You can cook?!”

“Of course, I can cook. I’m an orphan. We’re basically the most resilient beings in the galaxy.” 

That’s right. Mando, Nito, the Child…together, you were a family of orphans. Was it simply a random twist of fate, or the cosmic force of the universe pulling you all together?

It’s not the first time this thought had occurred to you, but now it felt oddly significant.

The Mandalorian had his covert, Nito had his gang of boosters back on Corellia, and there were still a few medics from the Corps that probably would take you in. But the Child? He truly needed a family. He was the cosmic force pulling you together.

Because you all recognized what a transformative gift it was to be loved and cared for—to have someone committed to your safety and well-being. 

Your gaze shifts toward the cockpit, catching sight of the Mandalorian. He was busy entering the navigation coordinates.

The transformative power of love, huh? Well, maybe there’d be more of that to go around from now on. 

Turning your attention back to the holo-transmitter, you cock an eyebrow in mock outrage. “Then why am I always the one making dinner?”

“My bowel movements have been better since you took over meal planning. Also, less scurvy.”

“Funny how I didn’t hear a single ‘thank you’ anywhere in there…”

Nito clasps his hands over his heart in a sign of devotion, “Thank you for my healthy poop, Thulindahra.” Then, he gasps excitedly. “That’s right! What’s your new name?”

“Kasya Hawat,” you recite, having repeated it about a thousand times in your head. “It’s pronounced Kaas-ee-yah…I think.” At the bottom of the screen, you see the kid’s ears turn upward. “Hey, how are his ears doing?” 

“I checked them this morning. No gunk.”

“Phew! Don’t forget to clean them while I’m gone, ok?”

Nito’s brow furrows. “Are you worried about remembering you have a different name now?”

Fuck, will no one in this family let you to artfully change the subject?

“Uh, yeah. I am, actually.” You admit, continuing to towel off your wet hair. Three showers in one day might be a personal record. “It’ll be really terrifying if someone yells Kasya at me and I don’t turn around.”

“I bet after a few days of everyone saying it…” Nito shrugs helplessly.

“Let’s hope so,” you sigh. Catching yourself frowning, you try to rearrange your face to look more hopeful. “Tell me. What’s the first thing you made with your new rice cooker?”

“Fish porridge,” he says proudly.

“Nice! And were there any vegetables involved in the making of this meal?”

“Knew I forgot something,” Nito snaps his fingers with a sly wink.

“Hey, genius! Eat a plant every once in a while if you don’t want vitamin deficiency.”

“Okay, Doctor Thuli.”

“Pffft. If I were a good doctor, you’d have a better grasp of micronutrients.” 

“Wait, why don’t you just go by 'Doc'? That’d be easy to remember.”

You pause thoughtfully. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but a former doctor working with the cleaning crew might raise a few eyebrows.”

Not that falling on hard times isn’t a universal affliction. Plenty of well-educated professionals were forced to take whatever work they could get—especially in the aftermath of a galactic civil war. But it’s the kind of backstory that makes a person stand out. Coworkers would inevitably come to you asking, ‘Please let me show you,’ with odd requests for this or that ailment. 

And Kasya Hawat had not received any medical training. Hell, she hadn’t existed since the age of five. You’d need to be careful about appearing too knowledgeable or helpful when someone got injured.  

“Better figure out your meal planning soon. Otherwise, Mando will have you eating MREs while I’m gone.”

“Ugh,” Nito stuck out his blue tongue. “I try not to think too much about what life was like before we picked you up. So bleak!” He moans, “Now you’re making us relive it.”

“First of all, this whole scheme was your idea, kiddo. Second,” you twist in your seat to watch the Mandalorian make his way in from the cockpit, “Mando’s going to be super sweet to you guys because he’s very keen to stay on my good side.”

Nito scoffs, and then a dark look crosses his face. “I know we planned all this out…but it feels kinda scary now that you’re really gonna do it.”

“It’ll be fine,” you assure him. “And we’ll go over everything together before I leave.”

“Okay,” he nods, not quite convinced.

“Okay,” you repeat gently. “Well, we should be back before nightfall.” Then you add in a stern voice—teasing him, “Dinner better be hot when we get there.”

Nito gives you a performative salute before ending the transmission.

***********

“The kids, ok?” Mando asks while pulling out the hem of his cloak from under the Beskar chest plate. 

His helmet takes in a quick sweep of the room.

It’s a small transport shuttle, with most of the hold serving as the ship’s living quarters. Apart from the comms station, there's a bed, a lounge area, and a small kitchenette. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, delighting in his paternalistic fealty. “They’re doing good.”

Then, taking pity on him, you nod toward the opposite side of the room. For some unfathomable reason, the sleek design aesthetic required that the wall paneling conceal all the door frames. “Bathroom’s in that corner over there.”

You get up to reach for his cloak, draping it tidily over the back of a nearby armchair. When you sense him standing behind you, the breath catches your throat. 

It's his turn to use the shower. Is he planning to undress out here, right in front of you? What did that mean? 

Keep it together, Thuli! You have no idea how the next eight hours will unfold, so try not to get ahead of yourself. There’s no way to avoid the awkwardness of building intimacy with someone. Still, it’s not like you to be shy about it, either.    

You love to come out of the gate swinging…?

“So,” you sigh softly, looking at him over your shoulder. “Am I allowed to walk around in my underwear now?”

Packing your robe for a day’s long journey seemed a bit excessive at the time—thank the gods, that’s never stopped you before.

Sure, you could change back into the clothes you wore for the fake identification photos. But why make more work for him? Mando will thank you for saving him the trouble of taking them off again. 

Wait. No. That’s not fair. Just because you’re ready doesn’t mean—  

“When have you ever waited for my permission to do exactly as you please?” He says in that enticingly gruff voice, brushing past you. 

Ooof, maintaining your composure will be hard if he insists on putting up the hardened Mandalorian act. An excited shiver is already rippling over your skin. And you’re sure the thin robe did very little to hide your pinched nipples.  

Erenada, save me! 

You need to slow down and stop jumping to conclusions. Just because he bought that mask doesn’t mean you can pressure him with expectations.

Remember, this was all new for him. Well, not the sex part. But the sex without clothes on part? Definitely, the sex with someone he cares about part. 

And who’s to say you would jump straight to the main event—

“Is there any hot water left?”

Oblivious to your internal struggles, he crouches down to remove the leather greaves from his shins.

Right. Effortlessly captivating. You are effortlessly captivating.

“You’re pretty eager to get in that fresher for someone who swore we didn’t need one.”

Mando places his greaves and weaponry on a table nestled against the armchair. “I never said I didn’t want a shower. I questioned whether it needed to have eight jets and a tub.”

With all the close calls in Daiyu City, you both agreed it would be wise to switch shuttles for the return journey back to the Crest. And since you had some money left over after bargaining down Gwellis, you’d coerced the bounty hunter into an upgrade.

“I think you’re going to like those jets. One in particular is quite…vigorous.”

Mando huffs, shaking his head. Gripping the tips of his fingers, he carefully removes each glove along with the gauntlets, setting them down beside his greaves. 

“You going to watch me undress?” He asks wryly.

Mmm-hmm.

“If you let me,” you reply with more confidence than you really feel. In fact, you’re oddly nervous navigating this tension between eagerness and restraint. Unsure of how to show both. 

You hold your breath in anticipation, but he doesn’t tell you to look away. 

“Here,” you extend a hand out to him. “I’ll help…”

When the Mandalorian nods, you hop onto the square back of the chair and reach for his arm. Doing your best not to get distracted by his massive presence looming over you, you place his forearm across your lap so you can work with both hands to release the steel hinges. 

Fortunately, your fingers remain nimble despite the intensity of his fixed attention. The gods only knew what he was thinking. 

After removing both vambraces, you pause. You could take off the thigh plates next, before—

Yes. Well, there were the thigh plates and pauldrons first...

Your movements are clumsy, unlatching the heavy plates while balancing atop the flat but narrow back of the chair. You hear him snickering when you wobble precariously, stretching your hands out for the pauldrons. He decides to remove them himself, handing you each one to stack neatly on the table. 

You had wanted to reach down for his belt—for him to let you this time—but he unbuckles it without hesitation and pulls it from his waist without a word. 

Then, unexpectedly, he leans forward to grip the back of the chair, his bare hands settling on either side of your hips, shoulders framing you. If you sat up straighter and lifted your chin, you’d be kissing—if he wasn’t wearing the helmet, that is. 

Your heartbeat starts to echo against your ribcage. Badump, badump.

“Go on,” he says, pretending like he isn’t smirking under that Beskar.

“Are you enjoying seeing me get flustered?”

“I am. It’s very satisfying, given how cocky you usually are with your little winks.”

Rolling your eyes, your fingers reach for the flak vest, pausing when you notice the silk stitches. A relic from that first night on Dorouma, when he almost died on your exam table. Of all the turns your life had taken, did you ever expect to be here, together on this tiny ship, looking up at this indomitable warrior, with his heartfelt confessions of love still ringing in your ears?

“What’s that look?” Mando asks.

“Mmm? Oh, nothing.”  

The stitches are trim and even, but you blush, feeling guilty for needlessly ripping the fabric. You didn’t know then about the thin metal closures concealed along either side of his back and embedded in the leather shoulder straps. It’s what let him remove the armor without disturbing his helmet.

“Your eyes,” he catches you off-guard, taking your chin in his hand to lift your face up to the light. “It’s faint, but the sheen and color are returning.”

You tamp down on the little trill of panic rising in your chest. The Mandalorian’s fingers felt cool against your flushed skin. The press of his consciousness beckoned, but you ignore it, holding it back until the right moment.   

“I wanted to make sure it would regrow, before I…” 

What you don’t tell him is that you wanted to ensure that if this really would be your first time together, you’d look like yourself—not some woman who’d never existed. 

“I’m glad you can pick up the color through the view plate. I wasn’t sure if it could.”

“One of the filters only neutralizes density, so I see things with the same detail you do. More or less.” Mando’s thumb gently strokes the downy hair along your cheek. “Like when you’re blushing.” 

Ha! Ahhh…

The bounty hunter laughs when you have nothing to say in response.

“You’re pretty cute, all hot and bothered.” He steps back from the armchair to remove the remaining vest. With the Beskar plate and tassets, it’s heavier than you expected, forcing you to place a foot on the ground for balance as you pivot to lay it on the table.

Behind you, the Mandalorian wraps an arm around your waist, and you nearly fall off the chair in surprise. 

“Why are you so nervous?” 

That’s a great question. A few hours ago, you’d brazenly reached between his legs to stroke his cock. Why are you feeling so apprehensive? All your bravado had dissolved into an anxious knot of fear and trepidation in your stomach.  

“It’s just…I’m scared of…”

“Of me?” 

Mando immediately removes his hand from your waist, voice full of concern.

“No!” You say urgently, trying to reassure him. “Sorry, I’m making this more awkward than…I’m scared that if I’m not careful…I’ll…I’ll do something inappropriate.” Your words are so quiet, it’s a miracle he can even hear you. 

He remains confused, nonetheless. “When have you ever worried about what’s appropriate?”

“Well, I want to respect your boundaries. But I’m not quite sure what they are, so…” You look up at him. “Last time, I got carried away and did something wrong. And I’m afraid that if that happens again…you won’t trust me anymore.”

That’s part of the truth, anyway. You don’t know how to put your other fears into words. That what you’re most afraid of is rejection. That all this joy and excitement is just weaving another rug for him to pull out from under you.

What if you let yourself surrender to desire, and when he’s finally naked and undone between your legs—he shuts down again?  

“I got carried away, too.” He sighs thoughtfully, reaching up to hold your face between his hands. “I only let myself think as far ahead as what I wanted…until I realized I didn’t know what came next. Or after.”

You rest your hands over his, your luminous violet eyes imploring him to continue. 

“But I couldn’t think through those questions with you spread over my lap, so I just…stopped.” Mando’s gaze fell to the floor. “I still haven’t apologized for that. I tried to pull you closer, only to push you away. While I don’t exactly have relationship experience, I understand that women don’t like it when you try to have it both ways.”

“No one likes emotional whiplash,” you shrug.

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “Then I saw how much I hurt you and…I’m sorry.”      

“Thanks for that. I just hope you can understand why I’m…you know, slightly cautious about the uncertainty.”

“I understand,” he nods, looking up at you again.

“Like now. I want to help you with the sleeves—but the neck seal is attached. What if I bump your helmet? Is it ok if I touch it? Is that a taboo? I know I’m overthinking things,” you throw your hands up, feeling at a loss. “That’s why I’m coming across as nervous.”   

“Yeah. The helmet…complicates things.” Mando runs his fingers over his jaw beneath the Beskar. “But I might have a solution.”

Oh, thank the gods, we’re finally going to talk about this! Somehow, you’d found the patience to wait for him to bring it up on his own. That’s at least one test of moral courage you’ve passed today.

“Alright,” you say, sitting up straighter. And since it felt too much like lying to pretend you don’t already know what he’s talking about, “I’d be happy to, um, put on the mask. If that’s what you want.”

“How did you—”

“I walked down the aisle you were browsing,” you awkwardly hoist your shoulders up to your ears in feigned innocence. “What can I say? My skills of deduction are just that good.” 

He huffs in disbelief, and you let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know whether I should be offended by your astonishment that I’m capable of the most basic level snooping—or terrified since you agreed to let me go undercover for this job.”

“Now that you mention it…” he brushes a few damp tendrils of hair from your face, his tone growing somber. “I’m not thrilled about the idea.”

“Because you’re worried or because you’re going to miss me?”

“It can be both.” Then, the bounty hunter draws back seriously. “Do you know how to use a knife?”

“Use a knife…Is this where I make a joke about the pointy end?” 

Mando let out a frustrated sigh. “Can you use a knife to defend yourself? They’re not going to let you carry a blaster, but they might let a woman keep a knife. I can show you a few moves.”

You remind yourself that weapons and combat training must be some type of Mandalorian love language. It’s sweet, really.

Grabbing hold of his arms—his thick, muscular arms—“Mando, I survived six years of active war zones. If you want me to take a knife, I will. But I’ll be okay,” and you turn him around so you can work on unfastening the neck seal. “Trust me, I spent most of my childhood practicing how to be invisible and overlooked.”

“I find that hard to believe, given that I’ve met you.”

“Oh, ha-ha! What did you say before? I’m making up for lost time. I spent so much of my life with my head down that once I started talking, I couldn’t stop myself.” You have to climb artfully onto your knees to reach all of the snaps when a sudden thought seizes you, and you lean over his shoulder to whisper, “I was also raised to be a sacred virgin, and look how that turned out.” 

The Mandalorian snorts with so much force that he has to cough to avoid choking.

“Wow!” You exclaim, sitting back on your heels. “Don’t be a jerk. Is it that shocking? I kept that vow of chastity until the day I left, I’ll have you know.”

He turns to look at you, thumping his chest for more air. “Is that really the first thing you did with your freedom?”

“Argh! You are such–” he catches the first fist you aim at his stomach, “a punchable—” but you manage to land the second, “jerk!” 

“Sorry,” he continues to laugh, holding your fist in his hand. “That’s just–ahem—not what I expected you to say. I thought you were a princess or something.” 

“You thought I was a runaway princess?” 

“Something like that.”

“Sounds romantic. What made you think I was a princess?”

“Asks the woman who needs eight shower jets?” Mando scoffs.

This time, you punch him in the ribs.

“Ow! Not bad. You put some force behind that one.” 

He shrugs out of the armored sleeves and tosses them onto the table. Have you ever seen him in just the flight suit before? The thick fabric perfectly outlined the muscular plains of his body—his toned arms and legs, his broad shoulders and narrow waist. 

Okay, dial it down, slutty, slut, slut! Don’t rush this. It’s tough being caught between impulse and self-control. You want to climb him like a tree, but you also want to be respectful and let him set the pace.  

Of course, the Mandalorian immediately puts your willpower to the test. 

“It’s your bearing,” he says, resting his hands on your shoulders. “You have large breasts, but you don’t hunch. Your back is always straight, as though someone corrected your posture growing up. I thought you must be a warrior or a princess…and you’re way too squeamish about violence.” 

Hmmm, what’s he talking about? It’s hard to focus with him standing so close, with his hands resting on your shoulders and your knees pressing into his thighs. You’d only picked up on one word of that. 

“I knew you were checking out my tits behind that view plate.” 

You expect him to be embarrassed, but instead, the Mandalorian sounds roguish. “You’d probably kick me in the nuts if you knew how much time I spent staring at your tits.”

He still hadn’t moved his hands from your shoulders, so you feel brave enough to place both palms over his chest. To your great delight, his heart begins to beat faster.

“On the contrary,” you smile up at him through your lashes, arching your back so he can get a better view. You don’t need psychic abilities to know just how much the Mandalorian worships your ample cleavage. “I like being adored.” 

And it feels like the perfect occasion for one of your little winks.

All the breath he’d been holding comes out in a huff of static. “You are beautiful and kind and courageous. You’ve saved my life many times.” Mando’s fingers trace up the back of your neck to cradle your head in his hands. “I know you don’t need me. Yet you make me want to protect you and keep you safe. I don’t understand how anyone could overlook you.”

Now you’re the one who’s breathless. You blush, feeling feverish. “I–I didn’t think you’d take my encouragement so literally.” 

“And I thought you’d be better at receiving compliments,” he says wryly.

“Compliments invite the envy of the gods, Mando!”

“Is that what they tell sacred virgins to keep you modest?”

The way he says the phrase ‘scared virgins’ is remarkably obscene. He’s getting far too good with these sassy retorts. 

“I already regret telling you that,” you groan. Then, staring up into his view plate, you confess in a dizzying rush before you lose your nerve. “My motives were more shameless. I want the adoration of your body. I was hoping you would grope me or kiss me.”

He seems to weigh this statement with the same grave consideration that he approached everything, even as his hands tangle into your hair. “It can be both.”

*************

“How does that feel?”

It’s silky and soft. It had cushioning around the eyes and nose bridge that blocked out all surrounding light, as well as keeping the mask in place. The bands rest snuggly behind your ears, cinching at the base of your skull. 

“Secure. Do you want to try it?” You offer earnestly. “So you can see for yourself?”

“No,” he says. “If you say it’s secure, I believe you.”

You reach out blindly to confirm he’s still standing in the same spot.

When your fingers gain purchase, you pad lightly over his arms until you reach his elbows. Finding your balance on the back of the armchair, you spread your legs further apart so you can pull him closer into the circle of your thighs. This way, you can sense, rather than see him—by the heat radiating from his body, by the smell of his sweat, and the sound of his breathing.  

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder, breaking the tension. “Just nervous that I might actually kick you in the nuts by accident.”

“I’ll be very careful of your knees,” he says, laughing too. 

Mando places his hands around your waist above the smooth curve of your hips. Through the whisper-thin fabric of your robe, you feel the hard calluses of his fingers, and your body tingles with anticipation, aching to feel his touch on your skin.

You can tell there’s still so much else he needed to say, but it’s hard to care about any of that now. 

Suddenly, all that mattered was to coax this yearning from him so it would surround you both in a haze of unbridled desire. When his hands slide up your back and over your shoulders, down the length of your arms, you gasp at the touch of his thumbs tracing the contours of your breasts. 

It’s nothing compared to the sound that spills from the modulator as your hands run up his torso to stroke the hard muscles of his chest. He’s surprisingly warm beneath your palms, rubbing them over his sides, his stomach, and pecs. 

You can tell the sensation—someone caressing his body—is new to him. Overwhelming. 

His hands grip your wrists, and you brace yourself to stop. 

“Will you help me with this?” 

With what? Another trill of panic surges in your stomach as your fingertips brush against the cold Beskar. You tremble, your mind conjuring a dozen fearful thoughts about dropping the helmet, of desecration and iconoclasm. But his hands remain full of surety, guiding you to lift it up and over his head. 

Then, you do almost drop it. 

When you feel the warmth of his breath against your cheeks, all conscious thought vanishes. 

You’re vaguely aware of him setting it down, the thud of metal impacting the wooden surface of the table. But all you can focus on is the sound of his breathing, inhaling and exhaling, the susurration of air passing his lips.

“Can I…?”

In answer, he raises your hands to his face. 

He has a strong jawline. Angular but softened by the trim hairs of his beard, which feel surprisingly supple. His nose has a prominent bridge. You like that. An equally prominent brow line. You like that too. With a deep crease in the middle. Pfft!

“What’s funny?” He asks, his question tinged with consternation. 

“I always imagined that you must be frowning under your helmet. But it’s funny…trying to imagine the subtleties of something you can’t see.”

“You think about me frowning?”

Gods, his voice is so clear. It comes out low, a deep rumble in his chest. Less gravelly than how it sounds through the modulator. Still, very sexy.  

“Not as much as I think about you smiling,” you assure him truthfully. “Sometimes I think I hear it in your voice, but obviously, I can’t be certain. That’s why it’s such a relief—triumph, maybe? When I make you laugh. You should add wit and good humor to my list of virtues.”

At that, he does laugh. 

“Hmmf!” A sound somewhere between a cry and a hushed whisper escapes you. “Your eyes crinkle when you smile.” 

You hear the crack in your voice and quickly swallow down a sob bubbling in your throat. 

“Why are you crying, Thuli?” He asks with profound concern, his hands reaching out to comfort you.

It had nothing to do with sadness. The rush of emotion—disbelief that this was actually happening, that he had taken off his helmet, and you were touching his face! Joy in the knowledge that he trusted you enough to do this. The hunger and anticipation of what happened next, how much you wanted him. It all welled up inside you, seeking release.

“I n-never thought…” you sigh. “Would you say my name again?”

“Thulindahra,” he rolls the smooth syllables over his tongue before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Thulani,” you feel the brush of his warm lips on your cheek. “Thuli,” he kisses the other.

“Cyar'ika,” then his lips press against your mouth. 

You know that word. Cyar'ika. Beloved. You’d stared at it in the chapter for ‘family’ in the Mando’a phrasebook you downloaded onto your data-pad. How many times had you lain in bed looking at that word?

Cyar'ika. 

At first, his kiss is soft and delicate.

With your hands on his face and your lips sealed together, the connection between you is becoming increasingly fluid. But it still feels too soon for that.

You can sense his exhilaration tempered by a struggle for self-control. Which is very touching! He wants to linger and enjoy, to be present.

He deepens the kiss, and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, arching into him. At the press of your breasts against his chest, a sudden urgency crowded his mind. What little control he had is already melting away under the heat rising between you. His body can only process two competing impulses, closer and more.

Things are a little clumsy at first, his teeth catching on your lips because he's too impatient for your mouth to open. The Mandalorian groans at the first caress of your tongue, and when you steal it from his lips, he rocks his hips against you, his swelling erection grinding into the soft ache between your thighs. 

His kisses soon become devouring in a way that makes the heat scorch right through you as your tongues twine together and slide over each other. 

There’s no sound but your gasping breaths and the shift of your bodies. His open mouth trails kisses over your jaw, your throat, your collarbone, drinking in your skin. Then he returns to your mouth.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Badump, badump, badump. Mando’s lips press against your thundering pulse, and you know he must feel how fast it’s beating for him.

A hand slides down to grip your knee, spreading your legs a bit wider so he can settle further between your thighs. A sweet jolt surges through your core when you part around the hard press of his cock despite the layers of fabric.

“Can I open your robe?” His breath is hot against your ear. 

Where he found the willpower to ask permission, you have no idea. But it’s also very touching! 

“So chivalrous,” you smile, and while he’s momentarily distracted you place a few kisses along his jaw and behind his ear.  

“I want to do this right for you,” he says between hitched breaths.

This makes you smile wider. Of course he would imagine fucking you as a awesome responsibility. “Mando, whatever feels natural to you will be right.”

The Mandalorian pulls your robe aside to kiss your shoulder while his other hand reaches for the dip of your waist, gliding up your ribcage to cup your breast. A deep, contented sigh pours from his lips when his fingers gather its fullness into his palm. 

“This is clever,” you grin, opening his flight suit from his waist to his neck.

“Hmmm,” he says distractedly. Whether that’s his response to the ingenuity of dual zippers or the feeling of your nipple budding between his fingers isn’t clear. He circles his thumb lightly around your tingling skin and kisses your breasts until the heat inside you turns into a fire that flooded your cunt with warmth.  

You feel so desperately greedy for his hands, but you also want to pleasure him, too.

Carefully, you remind yourself.  

You hoped that caressing him over his clothing would make his skin less sensitive, and it seems to have helped. His breath catches under your touch. Yet his body does not twitch or recoil.  

He shivers and trembles wherever you drag your fingertips across his skin. There’s a lot of territory to cover! The ridges of his firm abdominals, his muscular back, and the contours of his broad chest and shoulders. But again, he does not pull away. 

This makes you feel a little more comfortable about exploring him with your mouth, so you slip your fingers under the seams of his sleeves to peel them off.

Mando doesn’t protest, though perhaps you should have asked his permission? You tie his sleeves around the tantalizing jut of his hips and make a mental note to ask before tearing off his pants later. 

Your lips search blindly for his nipples—you can’t see them with the mask on!—leaving a wet trail over his body. He moans, almost painfully, when the tip of your tongue slides over the pinched skin as you draw it into your mouth. Soon overcome by the sensation, he’s done the impossible and forgot about your breasts for a minute to grab you by the hips. Between your thighs, his cock throbs eagerly against you.

“Hfff, hfff,” he can’t seem to get enough air. Under your palms, his chest stutters with each heaving breath.

“Is this okay?” You ask. It’s not a selfless question. You don’t want to overwhelm him now. That would be disappointing for both of you.

You can sort of sense him nodding before he remembers that you can’t see anything with the mask on. 

“Yes,” he whispers, then he buries his hand in your tangle of loose waves, fingers threading into your hair. He pulls you closer to lean his forehead against yours. “Yes,” he sighs into your mouth.

You lift your chin up to find his throat and lick at the salty skin, lips closing over the rough stubble to suck at the sharp cartilage with your soft tongue. 

He responds by pulling you tight against him, his hands sliding up your back to press your body even closer. It’s an indescribable pleasure to feel your skin against his, the sensation of your supple breasts rubbing into the hard planes of his chest. The Mandalorian seemed to feel that any space separating you, even if it was only a few layers of clothing, was an intolerable cruelty. His cock must be aching.

Closer, his body demanded. More.

“Bed?” He asks, voice hazy with lust.

“Yes,” you say with breathless enthusiasm.

__________________________________________

Keep reading- Post #12: A Loving Feeling

Back to Volume 3 - all posts

[midnightdevotion]

Hard Days

Request: "Come here and let me hold you"

Pairings: Hangman x reader

Tag list is open

Requests are open

a/n: this is really just cutesy fluff of a new relationship, I hope you guys like it!

It was one of those goddamn days. You knew it would be from the moment you woke up, your phone didn't charge so your alarm didn't go off and that left you scrambling to get to work on time.

You didn't have time to pack a lunch and definitely didn't get a good breakfast unless a stale protein bar that your boyfriend left on the coffee table counts as good. On top of that, you had a stressful day at work, constantly rushing to put out the next fire, you seriously could not catch a single break today.

You sigh in relief when you see the clock hit 5:00, shoulders sagging and a slight throb in your temple, a forewarning of the tension headache that's been impending all day. You're on autopilot when you leave the building and make your way home. In fact, you are so out of it that you pull into the driveway of your cute little house you don't even notice that your boyfriend's car is there too. So when you walk in and you hear some song by Dan and Shay playing, you almost panic.

Wracking your brain to remember if you had plans tonight or not and not coming up with anything.

"Babe that you?" you hear none other than the devastatingly handsome Jake Seresin yell from the kitchen.

"Uh- yeah did we.. did we have plans tonight?" you furrowed your brow. The ever adorable pilot sticks his head around the corner grinning. "Nope we didn't but one of your coworkers... uh charlotte I think called this afternoon and said you were having a rough day, so I figured I'd treat my girl"

Maybe it's the way he's grinning at you, or maybe it's the overwhelming amount of love you are feeling for this absolute perfect man, or maybe it's just everything from the day hitting you at once but you start crying. You can see the panic in Jake's eyes when he registers what is happening, and if you weren't in the midst of a break down it would probably make you laugh. You watched as his head disappeared for a moment before his whole body emerged around the corner, as he makes his way to you.

"babygirl what's wrong" his hands are cupping your cheeks and his green eyes are staring into your red tearful ones. You don't really know how to answer, embarrassed that you are crying at all. So you just focus on his thumbs that are wiping away tears so gently on your face.

"How bout this, I will finish cooking dinner, and you can just come hang out with me then after we eat I will draw you a nice bath and we can relax that sound good?" and you are so grateful that this man knows when you arent ready to talk about things and doesn't push the subject. So you nod at his suggestion and he grins and picks you up.

"Jake what!-" his laughter cuts you off

"what part of my girl is going to relax tonight made you think I will allow you to lift a single finger... or foot for that matter" you shake your head as he sets you on the counter, continuing to make what looks like lasagne.

You two fall into a comfortable silence, you watching the way his muscles move as he moves around the kitchen making dinner and the way his tongue pokes out as he's laying the noodles in the casserole dish. It takes about an hour for dinner to be done and another twenty for you two to finish eating. Jake true to his word, cleans up dinner and carries you up the stairs so you can go to your tub.

You watch as he diligently fills the tub, you know he tried to hide it but you counted him checking the temperature four times. He must've really thought ahead because he pulls out a grocery bag from under the sink and starts pouring in some bubble bath and a lovely coconut scent fills the room.

"Okay love, your relaxing bath is ready, let me know when you are done and I'll carry you downstairs and we can cuddle on the couch and watch whatever movie you want-- yes even that one about the town that doesn't dance" you laugh at his words but your heart is just filled with so much love.

"Jake... will you get in with me?" your voice is fairly quiet and you watch his expression go from focused to one that you could only refer to as adoration.

"Of course sweetheart" and jake helps you down from the bathroom counter, even helping you get undressed and helping you into the tub. You watch him get undressed, and he definitely throws a wink your way. He climbs in behind you and for the first time all day, you feel yourself relax when your back hits his chest.

"I-I'm sorry for crying earlier, it was just a really overwhelming day and then I came home and you were being so sweet and it just... happened" you can feel the blood heat up your face because that was the first time you cried in front of your boyfriend of 4 months.

"Darling, you never need to apologize for crying, while everything in me screams to protect you from anything that can hurt you, crying is human nature and I'll always be here to wipe away the tears." and what you say next isn't planned at all, in fact if you had absolutely any critical thinking skills left you probably wouldn't have said it.

"I love you so much Jake Seresin" and once they are actually out of your mouth you freeze, and you can't see his face but you definitely feel him tense up.

"Rooster is going to give me so much shit that you said it first" and it takes you a second to process what he means, laying your head back on his chest so you can look up at him. He's already grinning down at you, eyes shining so bright.

"y/n I love you so much more" he finally says the words back and you can't help but feel giddy inside.

You guys are in the bath for another hour, till the water starts to get cold. He wraps you up in a big fluffy robe before keeping his promise from before and he carries you back down the stairs to watch "that dancing movie".

When you see an array of your favorite snacks on the coffee table you grin up at him. "Who knew big bad hangman was such a softie" He has the faintest smile on his face, just glad you are feeling better and back to being yourself.

"Oh shut up, just come here and let me hold you dammit" and you laugh but you do just that and crawl on top of the muscled aviator. You two snuggle for hours, staying up watching movies you know jake isn't crazy about, and sure, maybe before your day wasn't so great, but if every bad day ended like this, you'd sign up for it every day.

Taglist: @alanadetigy