#i practically live in this office and it's right next to that of my boss who is basically NEVER THERE so WHY

[apoloniaspiegelgold]

Now that my boss has hired a new PhD student, he literally straight up kicks me out of my office by the end of the month with no warning just so that the new girl can move into my office instead. So now I have to move into an office at the far end of the corridor whose inhabitant was at least asked if he'd be okay to move out of there into an empty office. And I'm just sitting here like ... why? Why not put the new girl into the empty office? What is this insanity?

[shotmrmiller]

Big man, Big mouth

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader (because demeaning girl usage) WC: 4.9k it's just gross smut and simon gets kinda mean sometimes nothing crazy :) ty to the brain to my pinky @xoxunhinged and precious beta @waves-against-a-cliff catching my errs

The smile you’d had on your face all morning is subsequently wiped once you’re told that you won’t, in fact, be spearheading a team meeting with air conditioning and a cup full of your favorite medium roast, but instead, you’re being sent somewhere where practical experience trumps theoretical, textbook knowledge. And alone, at that.

Guess your travel mug is about to make its big debut.

The construction site is alive with purpose— the buzzing of drills, raucous banter, and the low hum of music from a stereo. You run a hand down the back of your skirt that is more tourniquet than office attire you were forced into wearing, regretting not drawing the line at the heels pinching your toes. "Professional setting, professional appearance," your boss had said. Nothing here demands you to stand in ironed clothes with dust settling on your eyelashes and the taste of grit on your tongue.

You feel out of place, a white-collar worker surrounded by hard hats and steel-toe boots. Perhaps taking this job for a promotion was hasty on your part. But it’s too late now and the sun above you is wilting the starched collar of your blouse.

Best get this over and done with. (The bottle of barefoot wine at home will be your reward for your suffering.)

Walking to the home still in a semi-skeletal phase had been a bit uncomfortable, anxiety gnawing at your nerves and the polished shoes at the skin of your heel. But what made your shoulders tense and spine stiffen was the crew. You'd expected disgruntled workers, sure. A bit of grumbling here and there. No one likes to have someone with more authority and less experience trample all over your work, telling you what's what.

Not them eyeing you like you're a fish in a shark tank. A little minnow pulled out of her natural habitat and into the mix with dominant predators. The paper on your clipboard crinkles audibly as one of them— the leader, you gather— stops you before you can get any closer than he feels necessary. He plods over, hard hat tucked into his arm, wiping his sweaty brow with his sunbaked forearm, a few wood curls nestled into his beard.

"Ya lost?" he grunts.

There's a guy with a comb for hair and limpid blue eyes staring right at you from the back as he leans on a half-built wall with a smarmy grin on his thin lips.

"No! No, I, um—" you stammer, "I'm here as a temporary replacement for, um—"

He cuts you off with a dismissive wave, fingers thick as steel beams. "Right. Yeah, yeah." Bloody rude. "The inspector." His head tilts and spits on the cement, eyes giving you a once over, lingering on the bare skin of your calves. "John," he says then jerks his head behind him, to the shady inside of the home. "Let's get ya out this sun 'fore you melt like sugar on the driveway."

You keep your lips pressed in a line, swallowing down the retort sitting on your tongue with a hint of frustration, and follow him on swift feet. It is unforgivingly hot and at least there's a roof overhead. Most of the walls were still just wooden beams, the foundation concrete covered in dust. Rough-bristle brooms lean in corners, the stereo now sitting silently in the center of what’s to be the living room next to a man with a massive frame and a sweat-soaked wifebeater who didn't bother turning around as you made a beeline for the only fan feebly cutting through the muggy heat inside.

John from behind you grabs your attention. "So? What's the issue this time? We jus' had tha' muppet pass through a week ago." You turn around, the breeze now somewhat cooling the back of your neck.

"Just need to personally check what's left—" you clear your throat, giving the clipboard a waggle, "on this. Nothing too grand." The blonde one with shorn hair hasn't looked up once from the blue cooler between his legs.

John scratches his head. "Right." There's a drag of heavy boots behind you. "Temporary, eh?" His eyes are like cerulean rivets, pinning you in place.

Gruff Scottish cuts in, tone dripping with amusement. "Will ye look a' tha'," he mutters, accent thick and deliberate, "bosses up top sent a bonnie wee lass to keep an eye on things. Make sure ye pay good attention, aye?" The brute comes to stand in front of you, flexing one arm, bicep like a knotted tree trunk. "Would hate ye missin' the show."

Show ‘em your teeth, little fish. That promotion is already in your hands, don't let it slip through your fingers.

"Listen, you—" you snap back, cheeks burning hot but then his eyebrows raise to his hairline, the corner of his lip curling in challenge.

"It's Soap, hen."

“...Right.”

What the hell kind of name is Soap?

A third voice— crisp English just like John's— cuts through the air from the second floor. "Wipe the slobber off ya chin 'nd leave 'er alone, Soap! You still hav'ta sweep up 'ere!" A man with bronze skin and a cap adorned with the Union Jack in the center pokes his head out from over the wooden railing. His smile looks stiff.

"Miss." His eyes flash to Soap. "Move it. You can get your cock—" wow, mouth like a sailor, that one, "wet while on company's time." His gaze falls on you for a moment longer before disappearing back into the upper level.

Soap grumbles what sounds like a "fuckin' 'ell Kyle" but heads for the stairs anyway, steps creaking under his weight. "Ah'll be 'round if ye need me," he says with a wink.

Unlikely.

John absently shakes his head and turns to the grizzled, mountain of a man still hunched over that cursed cooler of his. "Simon." He suddenly moves then, rising smoothly to his feet for someone his size. He's a wall of muscle, a very clear force of nature, and he's now staring at your—

your shoes?

"Alrigh'," he gruffly says, "We'll get outta your way. The faster you can look for, whatever it is you're lookin' for, the faster you can get out o' my beard." He places his hard hat back on and gives Simon a nod. "To work, break time's over."

Simon walks past you without so much as a glance, his thick arm brushing roughly against your shoulder with enough strength to make you take a step back but then he speaks. "Don't trip on nothin', girl. I'd hate f'r our pretty mascot t'get injured on the," he emphasizes the last word, tone heavy with mockery, "job."

Your tongue is pressed firmly behind your clenched teeth as you straighten your skirt. Get this shit over with.

--

Their attitudes toward you had left some to be desired, but they had done their job seamlessly. Not a crack in place nor a bolt out of it meaning that ticking off the rest of the boxes on your clipboard had been a cinch, making the promotion even easier. By the time you were ready to go home— the thought of leaving behind the tangy scent of sweat and iron adding a pep to your painful step— the sun had already dipped, casting long shadows over the construction site.

Until John's unwelcome chivalrous gesture: sending one of his to accompany you to your car. "t's late out," he says, leaving no room for lip. Fine, whatever. The faster you get out of here the better. Saliva pools in your mouth at the thought of having a chilled glass of wine with chinese takeout for dinner.

Except the one waiting for you in the garage with a lit smoke between his chapped lips is Simon. He flicks it to the ground, smothering out the embers with the heel of his boot. "Move. Ain't got all day."

The last strand of your patience snaps and your mouth twists into a snarl. "Then leave off! I don't need a fucking chaperone. Believe it or not, I do know how to look both ways before crossing the street."

You'd only taken three irate, swift-footed steps away from him, clipboard trembling in your grip when the back of your shoe dug into raw skin; a sharp, sudden agony flaring out in a hot, thick wave and you stumble. The world spins for a second, colors blurring together until—

The relief is immediate. The hot needles on your raw nerves dulled down to a throb, vision blurring from the brief bite of intense pain. You breathe in a deep lungful of air, tasting salt and sawdust while you flex your feet, hissing when the blistered skin stretches. At least the damage to your toes is minimal.

But not to your pride. Tripping over your own feet, because the driveway while unfinished is still flat, now means you're being hauled over his shoulder, which is broad enough to be surprisingly comfortable, in the opposite direction of where your car is with your heels in hand. The fabric of his tank feels stiff under your sweaty palms.

"Is this kind of behavior normal for you? Or am I just lucky?" your voice is tinged with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. His arm tightens uncomfortably around the back of your bare thighs even though the office skirt you managed to squeeze into is knee-length.

"Only when I spot clumsy-footed birds like you. Can't 'ave ya splat on the concrete like a crime scene outline." A slow creeping flame spreads from your neck to the apple of your cheeks when you notice the guys staring at you from a window upstairs, Soap giving you a toothy smile. Even Kyle seems amused. Mortifying. Someone strike you down now. Actually, no. Then who'd feed your cat once you’re gone?

"'nd John would chew me out f'r lettin' ya break these," his long fingers circle your ankle, "in 'alf." You try to muster a response, but the words sit behind your teeth, your chagrin having tangled your tongue into knots.

Then he stops and the creaking of hinges reaches your ears. "Wait." Your eyes land on a black cargo bed, caked with dried mud. "Are you just going to sit me in your car?" He sets you down in the back seat anyway, tossing your shoes inside.

"Truck. I can drop ya on the patch of grass if ya like." Simon leaves you there, going to the driver's side rummaging through the middle compartment. His work truck is exactly what you'd expect from a man like him. The seats are covered in a thin layer of dust, you imagine he gives no one a ride, a well-worn visibility vest strewn about, an extra pair of work boots stained with splatters of white paint—the size difference of your shoes compared to his has you swallowing a lump the size of your fist down.

Simon pulls out a mid-sized red box and places it on the floor mat then props your leg up on his. His grip is firm but gentle as he inspects your open wounds and then sucks on his teeth. "A bit stupid, wearin' ankle breakers when out on a job." He prods around the inflamed skin, the pain making you tense.

"Don't worry about me and mi—" you hiss when he digs his thumb into the arch of your foot, "mine. Maybe I wanted to look nice." Fuck those shoes.

"'m sure ya did, though the skirt's all ya need." The warmth of his breath spreads through your toes and up your calf, raising gooseflesh.

You can't hold back a snort. "And now you're going to tell me that you prefer women in skirts and dresses?"

Simon switches legs, careful to not aggravate the blisters further. "I prefer my women with no clothes. But both of those make it f'r easier access. Like yours. Can see your knickers from 'ere." That has your heart skipping a beat, eyes widening with disbelief. Instinctively, you sit upright, back straightening with a pop.

"They're red."

You chuff out a breath. He's lying. You'd put on the only available pair you had at the time since you'd forgotten to dry your laundry the night prior. A simple, cotton grey. "You—! Fucking hell, I almost kicked you in the teeth." Simon's looking at you now, eyes dark and intense.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried," he says with a smirk, voice low. "White, then."

The first aid kit still lies on the floor mat. "Stop talking." Simon ignores you, instead grabbing your other leg and pulling you closer toward the edge of the seat. Toward him.

"Green," he rumbles, his hands cupping the bottom of your feet, thumb and pointer coming to gently tug on your toes before moving his way up. You feel like a young, dewy-eyed farm girl having her first tumble in the hay and he's only now stroking the protruding bone of your ankle. The motion is slow, deliberate, a tender caress that sends a shiver up your spine. Has it truly been that long since you've had your body shape imprinted into the mattress?

"How about," you swallow thickly, "you patch me up proper and I'll be on my way?" If anyone else had heard, they'd say you're trying to convince yourself that being here isn't what you really want. But the little garble in your voice gives you away.

Simon hums, a sound that vibrates in your chest, sinks into the marrow of your bones. "Little bird wants t’go home 'nd 'ave only a throw 'nd a cat t'warm 'er bed?" You feel a different kind of ache this time, pulsing sharp and deep in your core. "Eh? Y'wanna curl up on the couch with one o’ those sex books while playin’ with your pretty cunt?" 

The idea of having to use the blue bullet sitting inside the nightstand drawer sounds unappealing. And it’s probably out of battery too. Damn. 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and shake your head. He doesn’t accept that as your answer.

"Wha's tha'? You will speak when spoken to, pet. Do you," he emphasizes the last word as he begins to open your legs by the knees, "wanna go home with an empty pussy or let me fill it 'til you're leaking cum out ya ears?"

Can't say no to him serenading you like that. You clench around nothing, hesitance crumbling like sand. "B-but what about your job? Aren't you still working?"

Simon grabs you then, dinner plate-sized hands wrapping around the softer part of your waist. "'M on a break. I'd say I deserve it after all my 'ard work." He lifts you effortlessly, the hem of your skirt rolling as you widen your legs further.

He rolls his hips once, feeling the bulge in his jeans brush against your sex, feather-light, and you bite on the thickest part of your tongue to keep from moaning like a cat in heat. "And what about us being in the open?" you ask though the question is redundant. Besides the crew's work vehicles, there's not another car in sight. If anyone else had been working nearby, they've long since left.

He seems to share your sentiment. "If tha's all? 'm tryin' t'see if I got it righ'."

No, that'll just about do it. "Okay. Alright." God knows you need this. Even if it comes from a stranger you'll probably never see again. Simon doesn't wait any longer, pushing up the rest of your skirt to pool above your thighs.

He hisses long and low through his teeth. "Tight little thing, innit?" Yeah, well. You were going to tell him that while putting on your skirt that morning had been an absolute nightmare, it wasn't that small on you until the tips of his fingers glided along your clothed slit. Oh. He's not talking about that.

"I guess grey's my new favorite colour. Especially this—" he thumbs the darkened wet spot on the fabric, "shade." When he adds more pressure, you can't help but let a gasp out as you buck your hips in want of more. "Easy. 'aven't even started with you." Simon opens the front of your blouse with a single hand, coming undone easily. He goes for the clip of your bra that's serendipitously placed on the front.

"Gotta let the girls breathe," he says. Whatever his reasoning doesn't matter because all there is, is relief. No more underwire digging into your skin, no more suffocating restraint. You only wore the blasted thing because all of your sports bras would've been visible through the blouse.

Simon rolls a hardened bud with one hand while unbuttoning the front of his jeans with the other. "Eatin' this," he gives the mound of your pussy a mean tap, "gonna 'ave t'wait. I'll get ya off though, don't worry tha' little head o' yours."

You wonder if he says that to everybody he fucks in the back of his truck. "What? Why?"

His length sits hot and heavy over your cunt. And it's big enough to kill. Death by cock. That'll be on your epitaph. "'m a big geezer," he mutters, fingers toying with the side of your panties, "lyin' down so you can sit your cunt on my face isn't gonna work righ' now."

Definitely says that to everybody. "Doesn't matter. I'll take care o'ya 'nother way." Simon pulls the dampened gusset to the side and lowers his head to— "Pretty like I thought it was." A fat glob of spit lands on the puffy lips of your pussy and he smears it around with his cock, tip sliding right along your clit. He uses his thumb to press himself down harder, more friction, more sensation, each slow roll of his hips pricking neglected nerves awake, alive, and it feels good. Surprisingly good.

The way the scar on his lip whitens as he bites it tells you it's just as good for him too. "Thought about it much, did you?" He goes lower this time, ruddy tip catching on your entrance momentarily before returning up.

"Since you walked inside a place you 'ave no business bein' in. Birds like you shouldn't be minglin' in the trenches with us grunts." The tips of your ears are hot as he stares down at you. "Should be sittin' nice 'nd pretty in a cubicle with air conditionin' 'nd an oversized mug o' watered-down coffee."

Simon cups the swell of your arse, canting your hips to glide himself better. Every bump and ridge on the underside of his cock is rubbing slowly on you and the thought of licking a slick stripe on the vein only tightens the white-hot coil below your navel.

"Or better yet, sittin' at home doin' wha'ever else while waitin' f'r a man like me to come back from work with a ribeye 'nd redskin potatoes in the oven." He lets your panties fall back into place; the sodden front almost transparent as he rubs against your swollen clit at the same time. God, he's fucking. your. panties! And you're bloody letting him.

What a way to break this year-long dry spell.

He bends your legs so that your feet are now being held flat on the thick of his chest with his hands as he picks up the pace. The suspension springs on the truck begin to groan. "I like mine medium rare."

Your back's come off the seat, spine bowed. You're close, so fucking close, you've got slick coating the inside of your thighs, dripping down to your arse, probably staining his polyester material underneath. This is torture and your pussy feels tender, raw, yet he's barely touching the focal point of your desire. If he doesn't make you come in the next minute, you're breaking that thick neck of his.

It's like he read your mind because he uses his cock to tap on your clit firmly, hard enough to hear a wet thwack and he does it once, thrice and—

And then your body gives, an intense climax that steals the breath in your very lungs, has you your blunt nails biting into the muscle of his forearms, his groan drowned out by the shrill ringing in your ears. Your face feels hot, probably is hot to the touch and there's a sting on the middle of your bottom lip and can taste iron on your tongue. Even the tips of your fingers tingle.

Through your half-lidded gaze, you see Simon holding onto the top of the truck while his breath comes in ragged gasps. Did he come? You curiously touch the expanse of your stomach. Not sticky.

"No. I didn't come. You," he takes in a deep, steadying breath then reaches to squeeze the sides of your face, cheeks plumping under the pressure. "You almost 'ad me, though. I don't remember the last time I 'ad to think tha' 'ard of London t'not finish. But I'm not done with you."

Simon hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and takes them off with urgency only to stuff them in his back pocket. "Better with no clothes on, remember." You can feel his twitching cock leak onto your heated skin.

"If ya need, use this." A black bundle of fabric lands on your chest, what is— It's a mask? If he means to hide your identity from his coworkers, you're not sure this skull mask is going to work. He drags you to him roughly until your arse is hanging off the seat. And then there's a hot, dull pressure pushing against your entrance that's followed by a searing sting, and it, it's so much, it's too m-

"Tight fucking-, Ya need t-, fuck, to relax," he grunts, fingers dimpling your thighs. Simon's thrusts are jerky, short, as he wrenches your walls apart. Even with your creamy cum and his spit it's still a struggle. "'Alf way there," and a rattled breath escapes you. You're being split right down the middle and there's still some left?

For the next few moments only your squeaks and mewls can be heard as he makes room for him, your hand flat on his lower stomach— feeling the coarse, thick patch of hair on it— as if you're trying to keep him away, out, something but then he snarls and snaps his hips. You've heard of a ring of fire some women experience at some point in their life and you think this is yours. The thin skin of your entrance burns, most likely stretched to its limit, like a rubber band about to snap.

"Easy," he drawls out, "The worst's over. Took me like you're made f'r me. G'mme ya 'and." He takes your clammy hand and has you touch where the two of you meet. His eyes are glued to your fingers that are split into a v, pads feeling your cunt soaked in viscous slick.

The groan he lets out at the sight makes the world around you spin. "Stay jus' like tha'." Sure, not like you’ve got anywhere to go. Not with his hands tight around you like metal cuffs. Simon holds nothing back, not even in the very first minute. Doesn't warm you up to it, don't let you try to get used to him turning you inside out. His thrusts are long, firm, hungry— bottoming out every single time until he sits snugly at the plug of your womb. Grinds up when he meets resistance, eyeing your features in case there's discomfort.

The only ache you've got is the one he's fucking into you. (And you also might be partly lying on his tape measurer.)

But then he hitches your legs up, hands around the back of your thighs as they're pushed toward your chest and that pulls a whine out of you that you're sure John and the crew heard. "There she is, bird's got a healthy set o' lungs on 'er." He keeps the same, unforgiving angle and doubles down, using the bulk of his weight to pin you in place, forced to do nothing but take and take and take.

Until Simon's strikes the side of your arse with an open palm. "D'ya hear 'em?" Wha? What? Hear who?

And then you hear it. Him. The handsome one with the hat from upstairs. "Ghost?" he sounds right across the street and Simon hasn't stopped rocking the truck as he fucks you right through it. "Wha's tha' Kyle?" His voice is steady even though there are beads of sweat rolling down the side of his temple.

"I said good job on all your 'ard work 'nd we'll see ya tomorrow. You 'ave a good night too, Miss." There's a crude whistle followed by a pained grunt and a quick mumbled apology. Maybe if you don't respond they'll just get in their car and go home.

But then John calls out to you too.

"Simon must’ve missed you, sweetheart. “Wow. He barks out a laugh. " 'ave yourself a good night, Miss.” Then, sternly says, “Tomorrow at 6, Simon.”

Simon, though, has no intention of letting you take the easy way out. He smacks your arse again, right in the same— already tender— spot from just moments before. "Answer 'em, pet. Or 'ave I fucked all the manners outta ya?" He accentuates the last three words with thrusts so sharp that if he hadn't been holding you in place, you would've been sent sprawling back.

Whatever words you're supposed to say are snagged in your throat like hooks, only whimpers and high-pitched gasps falling past your trembling lips. He drags his thumb over your bottom one, the calloused pad of it tough. "Go on. Be good 'nd tell 'em to 'ave a good night too. And no names. Only one comin’ outta you should be mine."

When you open your mouth, he weaves a hand down to your clit, jerking it in fast little circles that have you forgetting where you even are. "Mf- g-good," he gives you just a second of respite to spit on it. "Good night-," his fingers are almost torture, and god, you're going to come in front of all of them. You warble out the words hastily, feeling your impending orgasm come at you with the speed of a freight train.

"Tha's a good bird, singin' when I tell ya to." There's no stopping this, not with all of his focus on the little bundle of nerves and every drag of his cock making your spine arch as if he were winding it. "Squeeze my cock, tha's it."

Your legs shake violently, toes curled, and you can feel a cramp begin in your calf but none of it matters, not when you're seeing bright lights behind your scrunched eyelids, not when you feel fingers in your mouth to stifle the scream that's viciously wrenched from your throat nor when Simon growls out a "Fuckin' 'ell."

"I told ya, if ya needed somethin' t'bite on, use tha'," he jerks his head toward the mask that's tight in your fist. Your soul is still floating adrift in the wind and he's already trying to make conversation. And he did not say to bite on it.

"I'm not puttin' this unwashed thing in my mouth." You languidly watch him inspect his hand, looking at the deep purple teeth imprints on his fingers. Whoops.

"But you'll 'ave me after sweatin' under the bloody sun for 'ours." His hand slides behind your nape, lifting your head a bit as he lowers his chest to meet your sweat-slick one. Your hands come to claw at the shifting muscles of his back when he begins anew, this time his pace is relentless, sharp, predatory. He's a shark that has scented blood and is now on the hunt.

The prickling bristles of his facial hair scratch against your temple. "This," the hand around your neck tightens, your rapid pulse now roaring in your ears, "is the best pussy I've ever had." His thrusts are jarring, make your teeth clack together hard enough to hurt, and after a dozen of them, he comes with a cruel bite to the junction of your shoulder, snarl animalistic.

Hopefully, the guys drove off a while ago otherwise you're re-dressing and driving home with that mask Simon tossed your way.

Your blouse is unfortunately beyond saving. Your skirt isn’t faring any better if that massive tear in the front has anything to say about it and your shoulder will require at least half a bottle of concealer plus a couple of bandaids, which the first aid kit is completely empty of. Not even the first aid guide is inside. 

You sluggishly begin to button up one of Simon's spare flannel shirts when he asks you if you're hungry.

"No." Not really. Hard to feel much when most of your nerves from the ribs down are shot.

"Get in the front, I'd like t'eat my dinner soon." He's staring right at the apex of your legs, your cunt still throbbing from the abuse."'m 'ungry." There’s no tow car sign on the street, actually, there’s not even a simple stop sign here. 

It better not get towed. You’re not paying a dime if it does.

(Are your feet still hurting or can he fuck those too? No? Next time, then.)

[justauthoring]

naturally [3].

you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally → in which you meet satoru gojo

a/n: yall this one was a blast to write.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic), satosugu as well!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

I won’t be able to pick up Yuji today from daycare, do you mind heading there alone?

No worries at all, Kento. You know I don’t mind. Is everything okay?

Yes. My boss is being particularly pushy about getting this project done by today. I’m sorry to leave you alone.

I’ll be fine. But please don’t push yourself too hard, love. 

Thank you, Y/N. I’ll try not to.

I’ll make your favourite for dinner, okay? Love you.

That would be wonderful, dear. I love you too.

When you’d received the text from Nanami, you hadn’t thought anything of it. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked you to pick up Yuji, and that was way before the two of you ever were in a relationship. It hadn’t been much of a hassle then, given that you lived next door to him but it was even less of a worry now since you’d moved in with Nanami and Yuji into their apartment. Often, the two of you would pick up Yuji together and since you’d started joining Nanami, Yuji had been ecstatic about the whole thing that you made it a goal to go every day.

You’d already been out doing some errands, just about to make your way to the school with the assumption that Nanami would meet you there, when you’d gotten his text. You’d shrugged the whole situation off, mentally thankful you’d gotten all the necessary ingredients for Nanami’s favourite dinner when you’d grabbed groceries with a light frown at the realization of how hard Nanami’s office had been pushing him recently. Luckily it was the end of the week and you could spend the weekend making sure he got the rest he definitely deserved.

Your walk to Yuji’s daycare isn’t long at all and your thoughts are filled with the wonderful and loving family you’ve found yourself. None of it was in your plans for your life but you couldn’t deny how incredibly happy you were. Yuji was an absolute bundle of joy that you loved like your own son, and Nanami was the best boyfriend you could ask for – understanding, loyal, and loving. He checked off any and all boxes that may exist and made you incredibly happy.

You wouldn’t trade any of it.

“Y/N/N!”

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the familiar sound of Yuji’s voice. You blink, not having even realized you’d reached the daycare until a blob of pink comes crashing towards you, slamming right into your legs as Yuji hugs you as best he can with his small arms, peering up at you with bright, shining eyes. You smile at the sight, crouching down to his level as you distantly catch his teacher’s eye and offer a smile when she waves at you, before putting your full attention on Yuji.

“Hi, Yuji-kun,” you giggle, ruffling his hair. You notice his eyes drift past you, and are quick to explain. “Your father is stuck at work for a bit but I was thinking me and you could make his favourite dinner together, how does that sound?” 

Yuji beams; “perfect!”

You let out a laugh, nodding your head. “How was your day?”

“Amazing!” Yuji practically cheers, and you blink slightly at the pure excitement in his voice. Suddenly, he’s letting go of your leg to take your hand in his own, his grip quite tight for such a small child as he starts pulling. “I want you to meet my friend, Y/N/N. His name is Megumi!”

You internally laugh at Yuji’s short-attention span. You’d thought he’d be more disappointed about Nanami not being able to show up, but as usual, the boy was effortlessly positive and didn’t seem to let himself get phased by many things.

That, or he was just happy as long as one of you came.

“Okay–just, slow down a little, Yuji, I–”

“MEGUMI!”

Your lips part as Yuji practically bellows the name, eyes drifting ahead of yourself to the direction Yuji’s yanking you towards. You see a small boy, just slightly taller than Yuji, with black, spiky hair (it’s quite amazing actually), in a similar uniform as Yuji but he looks a lot more neat and put-together than Yuji does–even though every morning, you make sure Yuji leaves with his buttons all done and his collar straight, something or another is amiss every time you come to pick him up.

The boy glances back at the call of his name, seemingly unphased by how loud Yuji was, and it’s then you notice the man standing next to him.

He’s tall. Very tall. He’s got startlingly white hair that falls effortlessly around his head, shaping his face perfectly and he’s wearing a pair of black sunglasses but yet as his eyes drift in the direction of you and Yuji, it still feels like he’s staring directly into you.

“Y/N/N! Y/N/N! This is Megumi,” Yuji tugs at your hands and you pull your eyes away from the man, moving to smile down at Megumi. “Megumi, this is Y/N/N. The one I was talking about.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Megumi,” you offer gently, smiling softly down at the boy.

Meeting your eyes, you’re shocked as Megumi bows, offering a small ‘nice to meet you’. You don’t think you’ve met such a polite young boy, even if he was a little quiet. It’s funny, you think, how Yuji could’ve made such a friend–someone so quiet and calm compared to your loud and boisterous boy. But then again, didn’t they say opposites attract?

“I certainly don’t know where he got that from.”

You glance up as the man with white-hair speaks up, grinning at you as he steps forward, ruffling Megumi’s hair. The boy instantly frowns as he does, batting the man’s hands away as he he grumbles to himself all whilst Yuji giggles, moving to point out Megumi’s frown and the two of them fall into a chatter amongst themselves as the man with white-hair sticks his own out towards you.

“Satoru Gojo,” the man introduces, “and you must be the famous Y/N Yuji keeps telling me about.”

Slowly, you let your hand fall in his, nodding. “Yes, I, um… I’m Kento’s–”

“Wife,” Gojo cuts off, smirking. “Yes, I actually work with your husband.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks burning red; “oh… oh no! We’re just dating, not… we’re not married, Gojo-san.”

“Ah, please, call me Satoru,” he brushes off, “and sorry. I just assumed Nanami would’ve put a ring on you already with the way he talks about you. He’s absolutely smitten.”

Your cheeks stay flushed, glancing at your feet. “Ah, well… you know…” desperate for the conversation to change, you glance back up at him. “Are you Megumi’s father?” You only ask because the two of them don’t really look all that related–of course, that didn’t mean much.

Still, it was a shift in conversation.

“Not biologically, no,” Gojo nods, “but I do take care of him.”

“Barely.” Megumi cuts in, glowering at the man.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter–for such a young boy, he was rather quick-witted.

Gojo sticks his tongue out at the boy, and you find yourself unable to stop the giggle that leaves your lips at the sight. They were a rather odd pair, weren’t they? 

Gojo glances at you as you giggle and your eyes widen.

“Oh, my apologies, Satoru-san! It’s just–”

“No need to apologize,” he waves you off, stepping towards you. “Now, where is Nanami?”

“Oh, he had to stay at work to finish something up. Speaking of, Yuji and I should be heading home. We’ve got to start making dinner. But it was lovely–”

A huge gasp cuts you off. You blink, glancing down at Yuji who stares up at you with an expression like he’s come up with the best thing in the entire world.

“Y/N/N! Can Megumi and Gojo-san stay for dinner?”

-

After a long and grueling day, Nanami is more than excited to come home to you and his son and have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening.

At least, that was the plan.

Until he sees Gojo Satoru standing in his living room.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

He ignores his rather sharp language in front of the children. Never, ever has he ever wanted to see Gojo standing in his apartment, in his living room and least of all, has he ever wanted Gojo to be anywhere near you–talking with you, making you laugh, offering to help you with dinner–any of it.

Your wide eyes fall on Nanami the second you hear his voice, and Nanami feels a flash of guilt when he sees the panicked look in your eyes.

Gojo just beams. “Nanami! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Yuji comes bounding towards Nanami, hugging his father tightly and Nanami, despite the annoyance standing in front of him, of course returns the hug to his son, as Yuji beams up at him; “I asked Y/N/N if Megumi and Gojo-san could come for dinner and she said yes!”

Nanami’s eyes drift to you then, noticing the way you step towards him nervously. “I hope that’s okay,” you offer quietly and Nanami frowns at the look in your eyes. You look positively worried, and he curses himself silently when he realizes it’s because you think you’ve upset him. “Satoru-san said he was a friend from work and Yuji seemed super excited, so–”

Stepping towards you, Nanami gently pulls himself from Yuji, wrapping his arm around your waist to lean forward and press a kiss against your forehead. “It’s no worries, love. It’s not you I’m annoyed by,” he assures you, smiling down at you before his gaze hardens and he faces Gojo who continues to stand smugly in the living room. “It’s him.”

It’s then you learn that while Gojo may consider them friends, Nanami certainly doesn’t.

At least, not outwardly. You can tell Gojo definitely annoys your boyfriend, but Nanami still tolerates him nonetheless and it’s proven in the way he doesn’t immediately kick Gojo out. 

You also notice how Nanami is particularly clingy the entire night – he sticks by you, as if attached to your hip, constantly offering to help, barely allowing Gojo to step within a few feet of you. Gojo notices, of course, and he uses it to his advantage to constantly tease Nanami but you find you hardly care – Nanami was hardly ever possessive and it made you feel giddy that he was so desperate to make sure Gojo didn’t flirt with you all whilst making sure not to be too overbearing on you or do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

It was a feeling that had you tingling all night.

“The dinner was fantastic, Y/N/N.”

Nanami grunts at the nickname Gojo had decidedly started calling you halfway through dinner, a name he’d picked up from Yuji, but you just smile at the man. Gojo is standing by the door to the apartment, a passed out Megumi in his hands. Yuji’s already been tucked into bed by Nanami twenty minutes ago when the two boys had promptly passed out on the couch together. Gojo had moved to excuse himself shortly after, of course with slight pressure from Nanami, who continued to have his arm around your waist, you tucked into his side as the both of you stood across from Gojo, seeing him and Megumi off.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, leaning into Nanami. “I’m sorry we kept Megumi up so late.”

Gojo shrugs, “nah, it’s fine. Suguru might be a bit upset, but…”

Your brows furrow, “whose Suguru?”

Gojo grins. “My husband.”

Your eyes widen and Nanami shakes his head from next to you; “yet you continue to flirt with my girlfriend.”

“Kento,” you mumble, turning to him embarrassed.

Gojo just laughs; “your girlfriend is very beautiful,” he grins over at you, and you glance down at your feet in embarrassment. “Besides, Suguru knows I love him.” Gojo rolls his eyes at Nanami, before turning back to you. “He’s actually out on a trip with the girls for the weekend. Left yesterday.”

Your lips part; “girls?”

“Yes, Megumi’s sister, Tsumiko, and two other girls, Mimiko and Nanako that we adopted.”

You let out a gasp, “oh my! That’s so wonderful,” you beam up at the man. “The six of you must be so happy.”

Gojo laughs; “I wonder about Megumi sometimes… He didn’t wanna go on the trip, said it would be boring but I think it was because he didn’t wanna miss seeing Yuji at daycare. The two of them are like two peas in a pod.”

Truly, you feel like your heart could melt. Turning to Nanami, you beam at him; “we’ll have to have Megumi over more often then.” Then, turning back to Gojo, you add; “and of course Suguru-san and the girls!”

Nanami frowns, but you don’t see it as Gojo grins back at you; “I’ll make sure to let Suguru know.” He assures, “now, I should go. I think I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You glance over at Nanami at that, noticing the frown on his lips and let out a light giggle as you nod at Gojo. With one final goodbye, Nanami opens the door for him, before shutting it the second he’s sure he’s gone. You watch as the man’s shoulders instantly sag the second Gojo’s gone and tilt your head.

“Do you really not like Satoru-san that much?”

His eyes widened; “no… no, it’s not that. I’ve known Gojo for a long time. He’s annoying, but he’s a… friend.” Then, stepping towards you, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just tired.”

His hands fall on your waist, tugging you towards him and you fall into him with ease, letting your head fall on his chest as you hum out softly. “I know. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ve got it.” Leaning back slightly, you press a kiss to his jaw. “Just get some rest.”

Nanami shakes his head; “no, you already made dinner for me tonight. I can help clean.”

“But–”

“No buts,” he smirks down at you. “I want to help.”

With a moment more of hesitance, you nod. And the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you work to tidy up from dinner. With the two of you, it’s cleaned a lot faster and before you know it, the two of you are already tucked into bed, kitchen clean, clothes swapped for more comfortable attire and feeling ready to pass out completely.

Just as Nanami presses a final kiss to your cheek, arm wrapped around your waist with your back pressed to his chest, you can't help but ask; “were you really jealous of a married man? Married to another man, no less?”

There’s a pause. Then, “...maybe.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

Jamie or Nico where the reader is sick has the stomach bug or somthing and being really sweet and either Jamie or nico is takeing care of the reader

[ i’ve got you ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico takes care of his girlfriend while she’s down and basically out with the stomach flu

warning(s) : the stomach flu, throwing up, being sick in general

author’s note : this request coming in while i was sick and throwing up myself was very funny

༺═──────────────═༻

The bathroom floor has become her friend over the past 24 hours or so. She’s spent more time in the bathroom than she has in her bedroom. The doctor at the urgent care told her to get as much rest as she could before she goes back to work, but the social media interns have been slacking since the stomach flu took her out two days ago. She hasn’t exactly been listening to the advice she’s been given and has been working from home.

This morning is no different than the last few days. Her back is against the wall right next to the toilet. Her eyes are closed but she’s not asleep. She’s probably going off of ten hours of sleep total in the last 72 hours because of the amount of time she’s spent in the bathroom.

The door opens and a pajama clad Nico walks into the room. Her eyes open and she looks up at her boyfriend of two years. Nico takes two large steps toward her and crouches beside her. He rests a hand on her forehead.

“Temperature hasn’t changed,” she croaks. “I checked it when I woke up. Still over 101 but less than 102. It’s like 101.6 or something. I can’t remember right now. I think I’m throwing up my stomach at this point because I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left in there to actually throw up.”

Nico frowns and sits crisscrossed in front of her. “I think you should go to the emergency room, liebling,” he tells her. “Your fever hasn’t broken and you’re still throwing up even though there isn’t anything to throw up. I know you are still working too so maybe not being home would be a good thing.”

Her stomach knots up and she reaches for the toilet. Nico grabs her hair and holds it up for her as she throws up for what’s probably the twentieth time in three days. Her throat is so sore from the bile she’s puked up.

Tears prick her eyes when she flushes the toilet and sits back. “I hate being sick,” she cries to Nico. “I hate that I practically live on the bathroom floor.”

Nico brushes her tears away. “I know,” he replies. Nico pauses for a second. “I’m going to tell Keefe and Fitzy that I’m going to stay home for the roadie so you aren’t alone, okay? I’ll do interviews or whatever here if they want me to. I’ll work from home like you even though you shouldn’t be working at all.”

“Interns don’t know what they’re doing,” she mumbles.

“This is when you let them figure it out,” Nico laughs as he brushes her sweaty locks out of her face. “Let your department head take over until you get back. Working isn’t helping you get better, liebling. It’s keeping you from getting better. Stressing about work isn’t good for you when you’re sick.”

The worst part is that she knows he’s right. Working isn’t helping her get any better. Stressing about what the interns are doing isn’t helping anything.

She sighs and looks up at him. “I’ll call my boss and tell her that I can’t work until I get back in the office,” she tells Nico. “I guess I’ll let the interns destroy the social media.”

“Leave it alone,” Nico tells her with a smile. “Your boss is capable enough to cover it. They won’t destroy the social media. I’ll call your boss for you while you soak in a warm bath. No more worrying about work. You’re not working from home anymore. That’s me if they need me to do an interview or two while they go on the road.”

After she nods, Nico starts a warm bath for her in the tub while she slowly strips out of the disgusting clothes she’s been living in since the first day she got sick.

Nico helps her into the warm water, which feels good on her aching body. He leaves the room for a couple of moments. She sinks down until her chin is submerged. Her eyes close as she finally doesn’t feel like she has to throw up for the first time in three days.

She doesn’t realize that Nico came back until he sits her up and sinks down in the water behind her. “You’re going to get sick,” she mumbles. “If I was going to get sick then I would’ve gotten sick already. Let me take care of you, liebling. I’ve got you.”

He grabs a cup from the ground beside the tub that he must’ve brought in with him and leans her head back to wet her hair. She hums at how good it feels to have warm water on her scalp.

Nico washes and conditions her hair, with her instruction because she wants to at least make sure her hair is done right. He helps her clean her body. He’s very gentle with her since her entire body is aching with fever.

“Do you think you can eat something?” Nico asks. “I can make you toast or you can snack on some crackers.”

She shakes her head and leans back against Nico’s chest as she shuts her eyes. “Wanna sleep,” she mumbles. “So sleepy.”

Her body relaxes and she feels herself enter a daze. Until Nico gently shakes her awake. “Can’t sleep in the tub,” he tells her. “Let’s get you dressed and into bed. Maybe I’ll have something ready for you to eat when you wake.”

With a tired groan, she allows Nico to help her out of the tub and wrapped up in a towel. He helps her into their shared bedroom where he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants for her to dress into.

As soon as her body hits the mattress and her head hits the pillows, she begins to drift off to sleep. Nico presses a kiss to her temple and mumbles, “Sleep well. We’ll try food when you wake up. I love you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When she wakes, it feels like she’s blinked. She feels only slightly better when her nap is over, but she looks over at her bedside table and finds a piece of unbuttered toast. It looks like it was recently put there. Something small to get in her stomach since she’s thrown up everything else she’s tried to eat.

There’s a voice coming from the other room so she goes to investigate when she’s done eating. She throws on one of the hoodies she borrowed from Nico and heads out into the living room of their apartment.

Nico looks back at her as he’s saying, “… a couple of days away from the team. I’m not hurt but my girlfriend is very sick and shouldn’t be left alone.” He pauses. “Yes, just put me on leave for personal reasons. Say I have to deal with a family emergency for a couple of days.” He pauses again and turns his back to her. “Yeah, I’ll be available for an interview or two once this is announced. I know a lot of people will have questions and I’m not afraid to answer any of them.” He pauses one last time. “Thank you. Let me know if I need to do any interviews or if I need to send out a statement.”

Then he hangs up the phone and turns back to her. “You got your leave?” she questions.

He nods. “Yeah,” he sighs. “They understood that I need to step away. I don’t want to be in California while you’re here sick. I want to make sure I’m here if something happens and you need to go to the hospital. It’s one thing if I’m playing in a homestand, it’s another if I go on a California roadie for a week.”

She frowns and is so exhausted and overwhelmed that tears form in her eyes. They roll down her cheeks and she does her best to wipe them away before Nico sees them, but it’s too late.

Nico walks up to her and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t deserve you,” she sobs. “I’ve been such a bad girlfriend recently and stressing you out because I’ve been stressing myself out. I haven’t been listening to anything that anyone is saying to me because I thought working was more important than resting and getting better.”

“This is why I’m here,” Nico tells her. “To help you out in moments like this. Remind you to take a break. Relieve some of that stress by telling your boss to take over your work until you get back and help you into the tub so you can soak.”

The tears don’t stop at Nico’s words. They only get worse and her sobs get louder because she’s so tired and overwhelmed.

Yet, he holds her the entire time she cries in the living room.

This is the reason she loves Nico. It’s never been a choice between her and hockey for him. He’s picked her over his career numerous times over the past two years or so. Even at her worst moments, like right now. He’s always stepped away from hockey to take care of her.

It’s what makes him a great captain too. He’s always putting his teammates above himself, no matter what team he’s on or what country he’s playing in. Their needs, their injuries, their illnesses. It’s no surprise to her that those qualities come into play in their relationship.

She finally stops crying after five minutes, and Nico never lets her go. She looks up at him and he dries her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you,” she tells him. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Nico kisses her forehead. “You seem a little cooler,” he says. “Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t feel like I have to throw up the toast yet,” she sighs. “Key word being ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

He laughs and suggests, “How about a movie and you can sleep if you want? Does that sound good?” She nods.

The pair go back into their bedroom. She curls up at Nico’s side as he finds something to watch on Netflix. She never finds out what he put on because she was back asleep before he picked something.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[romanstheory]

Mine All Mine

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, language, Jey x OC

Word Count: 2,340

18+

Person In The Picture

"Destiny you've performed in front of thousands of people before why are you nervous now?" My manager says as we walk out of the building after signing my WWE contract. "This is different I belong on stage singing and dancing, I'm not sure i belong in a wrestling ring no matter how long i've trained" My stomach twists, I've been a WWE fan my entire life and I've always wanted to get in the ring but man am I nervous. There's so much that could go wrong, so that could happen. "Then pretend you're dancing and singing in the wrestling ring. You were made for this, Des". I inhale deeply before we both get in the car.

Today is it... my debut. I've been told to arrive early and see Hunter in his office to discuss how my debut will be going. Up until now i've been left in the dark and I can only assume it's because they have no idea what to do with me. I've been under contract for months and people have been whispering and gossiping about how I will be introduced. Hands in my oversized sweatpants I walk to Hunter's office, knocking twice before being invited in. "Hey Destiny, how are you?" hunter says looking over his glasses. "I'm great, and yourself?" I reply before sitting in one of the two chair in front of the big desk. It smells like one of those mahogany candles in here, so strong it slaps you in the face.

"So as you already know you will be debuting today" He begins "But in order to slowly introduce you to the craft we're going to have you tag with someone.... Someone who is late now". Hunter annoyingly looks at the clock on the wall behind me and then at the door that is now swinging open. "I'm so sorry boss man the traffic out there was cr-" Jey says walking into the room, eyes darting to me for a second... a long, long second and then to Hunter. "Am I really that late?" Jey asks "I can come back...". Hunter rubs his temples and chuckles to himself "No man just take a seat. This is Destiny, you probably know her from her music but she's going to be debuting tonight and that's what I wanted to talk to you both about". Jey and I nod at each other.

I would be the worlds biggest liar if I said I wasn't secretly scanning him from head to toe. Cut off cropped shirt, joggers, and jordans. So simple but somehow so sexy. "So... Jey you've been around for quite a while now" He begins "And the crowd loves you. I want you and Destiny here to team tonight. We will see how it goes tonight, but I think Jey would be the perfect person to show you the ropes. Any push back, suggestions, anything?" I remain painfully silent.... What am I going to say? Throw me in the ring alone? Jey looks at me and then back at Hunter "I want the ring reserved for us alone two hours before every RAW live event". It wasn't a suggestion, but a demand. "If we're going to do it we're doing it the right way". Hunter nods and says it's done. He picks up his phone and i'm assuming sends out a text to have whoever clear the ring. "How is two and a half tonight? Extra thirty to adjust". I inhale deeply "Sounds good to me" I say softly

---

"You know how to take a bump?" Jey asks me resting his weight against the ropes. "Yeah I've been training for months" I reply quickly "I know the basics but I'm not confident". Poking his bottom lip out he nods his head. For an hour we run the ropes practicing out joint move set, building my tolerance for taking bumps, getting our hearts pumping. My confidence quickly builds while we practice over and over again for our time in the ring. "Not bad, turn it up when it's really go time though" Jey says locking eyes with me, chest raising and falling quickly while his body recovers.

"Do you ever get nervous when you go out here?" I ask, sitting in the middle of the rings staring at the empty seats that will soon be full. In the center of this ring I feel so small, so minoot in the grand scheme of this show. Jey sits next to me, legs crossed "Every night, If you don't then you ain't doing it right". I lay back in the ring and cover my face with my hands. "I'm really about to do this.... I'm REALLY about to do this" I say out loud but more to myself. "Yeah and it's time to go get ready" Jey softly pats my thigh sending electric through my body.

---

Quickly I put my gear on, adrenaline pumping through my veins before I amp myself up even more. We are closing the show, the match has been hyped up all night long... Pressure is on. Jey has done his own thing all night, and I've become acquainted with the other women in the locker room. I make my way to the curtain when Jey's music hits. "Just pretend like you're dancing and singing in a WWE ring" I say to myself under my breath when my music finally comes on. The curtain opens and I swear I walked straight into heaven. The lights were bright, fans loud, music blaring. And my mind shuts off but my body moves.

Flexing, interacting with the fans, soaking everything up. And there goes Jey at the bottom of the ramp like he promised he would be so I didn't have to go into the room alone. Jey mouths the word "wow" while his eyes scan my body, stopping at my ass for longer than a moment. He sits on the ropes allowing me easy access into the ring and the match begins.

Jey is in the ring obliterating Chad Gable when Auska tries to interfere. Before she can I deliver a super kick. The match was well received getting us "this is awesome" chants over and over again. Jey's music blasts as the crowd sings along. Quickly I get on the top rope, Jey directly behind me as we do his signature arm movement to hype the crowd up even more. Incredible.... It was all so incredible and I think I'm already addicted to the high the crowd just gave me. Itching for more I cannot wait until next week.

Backstage I jump into Jey's arms, squealing in excitement. "That was amazing!" Tightly I wrap my arms around him. "You were amazing" He replies. "We have to stay together! They loved us together! We could do so much, take over RAW even!" Excitement overtakes every part of me. "You might be onto something" He replies with a smirk, putting me down, hands slightly grazing my ass but I don't mine or even acknowledge it and neither does he. I've found myself wanting to be close to him all the time. And the way he makes my spot purr.... How could I stay away.

---

Weeks pass and we main event every show, captivating the fans together every Monday night and every house show we attend. Jey and I have become closer and closer every week. Traveling together, staying at the same hotels, eating at new places together, slight flirting every now and again. Tonight we're in my hometown and my entire immediate family will be there front row. I've updated my attire to be blue and black to coordinate with Jey, we look like a real team now. We arrive at the hotel "Give me like five minutes and then come to the room" Jey says stopping in the middle of the hotel lobby. Typically we share a room to cut costs, two bed or he takes to couch if only one is available. I huff and gesture for him to go on.

Five minutes later exactly he texts me telling me to come up, do I do. Swiping my room key I slowly open the door. "Jey?" I close the door softly behind me. The light are off despite the flickering of what I can only assume is a candle around the corner. "I figured you could use some relaxing" He says softly putting his hand around my waist, guiding me around the corner to reveal my favorite wine, chocolate, and blue roses, of course they're blue. A grin spreads across my face, this seems intimate, romantic even but it's sweet nonetheless. "This is beautiful! Thank you" I coo. We drain our glasses and eat the chocolate but I keep catching him staring at me.

"What are you looking at?" I joke before leaning back on my elbows. "You" Is all he says in return, his eyes stuck on mine as if they're glued together. "I'm always looking at you" Is this.... Is this really happening right now? Sitting up, I crawl onto his lap "And what do you think about when you look at me?" I purr into his ear. I can feel him growing under me. "First I thought about what you looked like under those sweatpants, now I wanna lay you across this bed and see what you look like when you cum" He replies eyes still locked on mine. Warmth rips through my body settling into my middle. I knew it, I knew he kept looking at me that day in Hunter's office but I never had the balls to straight up ask him.

Pressing my lips onto his, he slides his hands under my loose shirt exploring my body. "I've been waiting for this" He whispers into my lips. His hands rest on my ass, squeezing it, moving it so I jiggle on top of him. Jey plants soft kisses on my jaw and neck, lightly licking in between. My hands trail through his freshly cut hair. He smells so damn good. My body aches for him, the feel of him, to be close to him. His lips trail my body like he's hungry for me the way I am for him. His hands grip my ass and thighs firmly before he lays my back onto the bed, standing, looking at my body. i slide my clothes off, giving him a show before laying back on the bed. His swollen member struggles against his joggers. "Damn Des..." Jey says, mouth slightly open.

He undresses himself, sliding his boxers off, his fully erect member springing free. I gasp at his size gaining me a chuckle from him. Hovering over me he kisses me deeply, passionately before taking my breast into his mouth. I moan softly, closing my eyes while his tongue circles my nipple, nipping it slightly sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Jey looks up at me and I swear I can see a fire burning behind his eyes. I want him so bad this might just be enough for me to meet my undoing. "Please" I whisper, his eyes still locked on mine "I need you now". My breast leaves him mouth with a 'pop' before he grabs my legs, throwing them over his shoulder. His member teases my entrance, I can feel the warmth from his body so close to mine I want to push him into me myself.

"Des" Jey says, I hum in response "You are incredible... God damn you're perfect" Hungrily he scans my body again before pushing himself into me slowly. I gasp at his size "Are you okay? Should I stop?" Jey asks sweetly. I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. "Keep going, I need you" I whisper. He continues pushing his length into me until out bodies are flush together and his sits there allowing me time to adjust. Slowly he begins pulling out and pressing back in, groaning, gripping my legs tightly. Loud moans escape me "Oh my god!" I moan. Jey presses his lips into an 'o' shape before spewing out curse words over and over again. His strokes feel passionate, calculated, and like he cares more about me finishing than him.

Jey presses my legs up to my chest allowing him to go deeper into me causing me to let out a lustful yelp. His tattoos flex and move iwth each stroke, god his beautiful tattoos.... and his arms. I swear this man is perfect in every single way. My eyes drift from his body to his face that now hovers just above mine, sweat collecting at his brow. I pull his lips to mine and kiss him like I love him while he strokes me long and deep. Fireworks explode between us and as if he felt it too both of our eyes shoot open only to close again before our kisses got sloppier. Tongues loop and battle back and fourth, his stokes get faster and suddenly both of us are loud. "Ahh! Fuck! Mhhh! You feel so good" Jey groans "This is mine. Only mine!"

Curse words leave my mouth, I can barely form a thought. "O- FUCK JEY! O-only y-yours" I groan back. "This pussy is mine and only mine" He groans in my ear. Fuck! I reach my climax, my vision blurs and my body trembles as he continues stroking me, pressing deeply into me before releasing his load into me. He presses his arms into the bed on either side of me, panting just like I am. "I meant that. I need this... You to be all mine." He says through his breaths. "I did too" I say breathlessly. The rest of the night I spend in Jey's arms watching movies and telling jokes. Of all of the places in this world I've been in his arms is my favorite. And to think, weeks ago he was coaching me, comforting me and now he is mine... all mine.

[ddejavvu]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: the hotchner family has some big news for the bau

You know you're glowing when you walk into work. Not only from your smile, but your skin is especially dewy, not from the product you'd smeared into your cheeks.

It's Emily that greets you, waving at you with her coffee rather than her hand, "Morning, Mrs. Hotchner."

"Morning Miss Prentiss," You gleam, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "How's my lovely lady doing this morning?"

"Not as good as you," She laughs airily after a moment's stunned hesitation, "What, did you win the lottery?"

"Nooo," You trek to the kitchen, ruffling Reid's hair on the way, "Just in a good mood. Derek?" You peer at the man pouring his own coffee, "Do we have any decaf left?"

His nose wrinkles, "No, we're not monsters. Why decaf?"

"Oh my god," Emily murmurs, a smile growing on her face, "Decaf?"

Penelope's head pops out from her lair at the sound of your voice, brows scrunched, "Mrs. Boss Man, you drink decaf?"

"Not normally," Emily gloats, "Does this have anything to do with you coming to work late from an unspecified doctor's appointment practically glowing?"

Penelope gasps, but at least waits for your guilty smile to start squealing.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, really? Really really?"

"Really really," You gush, accepting the hug that she nearly rams into you with, then eases up on your stomach for, "I had my first ultrasound today."

"Oh my god," Emily croons, taking the next hug, "Y/N, that's amazing. Does anyone else know?"

"Just my husband," You tease, "Where is he, by the way?"

"Right here," Rossi steps into the kitchen first, straight from a meeting with Strauss, Aaron hot on his heels, "Why are we hugging?"

"She's pregnant!" Penelope blurts, and Aaron looks only slightly mortified that you've revealed your sex lives to the team, "She's pregnant!"

"Congratulations," Dave smiles kindly, tugging you in for a side hug, "So, boy or girl? Do you know yet?"

"Well-" You start, but JJ - who'd seen everyone gathered and joined, filled in by Reid while they linger at the doorway - interrupts.

"I didn't know you were trying for a baby," She muses, remembering the last girls' night where you'd neglected to tell them any baby information at all, "I thought you said you were done?"

"Yeah," You glance at the floor, and Aaron's cheeks turn pink, "We thought so, too."

Penelope stifles a giggle into her cardigan. Morgan isn't as kind.

"O-kay," Rossi drawls with an amused scoff, "So it's an 'oops' baby. But is it a boy 'oops', or a girl 'oops'?"

"Uh, Aaron," You round on your husband, taking his hand, "There's something you should know. There's... maybe, two oops babies?"

Not even Aaron Hotchner is good enough at controlling his facial expressions to stay neutral now. His eyes widen and his lips part, words escaping him.

There's another round of squeals, a hearty slap on Reid's back from Morgan that you're sure the young doctor resents, and a jeer from Prentiss.

"Two." Aaron repeats, glancing down at your belly.

"Two," You confirm, "Erin and Aaron? Alex and Alexis? Megan and Morgan?"

Derek gives his stamp of approval with a loud, poorly-timed cheer, and when paired with the man's new knowledge of your sex life and his tendency to tease, it's Aaron's cue to disapprove.

"Absolutely not," He shakes his head, jumping into action to slip a hand down the small of your back and usher you out of the kitchen towards his office, "I'd rather go with Cain and Abel."

[ereardon]

Homecoming [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter 3

Summary: Returning home to California after six years abroad in England, you found everything has changed. Jake Seresin, your father's former college roommate and lifelong best friend, is now a widower and has purchased a new vineyard in Montecito, only a few miles from your childhood home. Your parents’ marriage is on the rocks, your brother is struggling with what to do with his life, and you’ve grown up and are starting your own counseling practice. So what happens when you find yourself falling for the man your father calls his best friend? And worse, what happens when your parents find out he’s falling for you, too? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Age gap, eventual smut, cursing, alcohol

Word count: 2K

Chapter overview: Y/N settles into her job at Jake's vineyard, and has a revelation about their relationship

Author's note: This fic references a significant age gap, as reader is the child of Jake's best friend. However, she's in her mid-twenties, and he's been only a small part of her life to this point as he spent the majority of his time traveling with his late wife. This fic does not depict grooming, but if you are concerned with any of the themes please read at your own risk.

Masterlist here

On your second week on the job, a drunken bachelorette smashed fifteen bottles of wine by toppling over a display case. Just as you were about to curse them out, Jake swooped in, one hand on your arm, a reassurance blanket. 

“On the house,” he said with a grin and the girls swooned at him, forking over a 400% tip to try and cover the cost of the bottles. Jake let you keep it all. 

“For the practice,” he said, holding a hand up, stopping you from pressing the cash into his palm. 

“Jake, I can’t.” 

“Take it,” he replied, insistent. “Please.” 

By the time your one-month anniversary at the vineyard rolled around, Jake was letting you help plan weddings and events. The vineyard had a handful of different event packages, and you were up to your ears in paperwork. 

“Knock knock.” Jake hovered in the doorway of your office. He had cleared out a spare room next to his office and made it yours. It fit a small desk and chair, and you relished the ability to go into your office and shut the door and close out the world. 

“Hey. What’s up?” 

“You’re working late.” 

“Oh you know, my boss, he’s a real hard ass.” 

Jake grinned, lowering his arms and folding them across his broad chest. “Yeah, heard of him, they say he’s a huge asshole.” 

“And super ugly,” you replied. 

Jake chuckled. “Just wanted to check in on the Mackenzie wedding. How’s that going?” 

You sighed. “Remind me never to get married.”

He frowned. “Why is that?” 

“Marriage seems OK, but weddings are the worst. It brings out everyone’s bad side.” You tilted your head. “What was your wedding like?” 

“We didn’t have one.” 

“What?” 

He shrugged. “We were young, we wanted to save our money and travel. So we went to the San Francisco courthouse and eloped.” 

“Do you regret it?” 

“Not for a second.” He smiled. “You’re right, Sparky. Weddings aren’t for the bride and groom. They’re for family and friends. Sometimes it’s nice to keep it just about you.” 

There was something in Jake’s gaze that you couldn’t read. Was he thinking about Jenny? 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jake said softly. “Don’t stay too late, OK? If it’s too late to drive home, call me and I’ll pick you up.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away,” you reminded him. 

“Just call me, alright.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.” 

He chuckled and shook his head. You found yourself watching him walk away. 

***

“Let’s make quesadillas.” 

You peeled your eyes open. Colin was standing in the corner of your room wearing a pair of swim trunks and no shirt. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “You’re shitting me, right?” 

“Come on.” He smirked. “Night swim and Mexican food. It’s tradition.” 

“We’re not seventeen anymore, Colin,” you groaned. “I have work in the morning.” 

“Jake will understand.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied. “I’m responsible now.” 

He ripped the blanket off the bed and you shot up to seated, furious. 

“Seriously?” 

Colin grinned. “Come on. Live a little, sis.” 

Ten minutes later, the two of you were eating quesadillas in the hot tub. You tipped your head back against the tile rim. “What are we doing out here?” 

“Eating quesadillas.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. We’ve barely talked since I got home. It’s been six weeks.” 

“I’m busy. You’re busy.” 

“I have a job. You work at the crab shack.” Colin, after nearly failing out of college twice, had taken an almost permanent job on the boardwalk. This time he was a fry cook at a seafood joint frequented by tourists. 

“Don’t be such a snob, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Just like being an idiot doesn’t suit you.” 

He shoved the rest of his quesadilla in his mouth and reached for yours. You were too slow – he grabbed it and forced it into his stuffed face. “Thanks.” It came out garbled and you watched a fleck of dried cheese land in the swirling water. 

“Disgusting,” you said with a laugh. “I’m serious though. What are you doing? You can’t live with mom and dad forever.” 

“You live with mom and dad.” 

“For now.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Same.” 

You sighed. “Fine. New subject.” 

“So when do I get to see my little sis at her big grown up job?” 

“The vineyard?” He nodded. “Whenever. Come any time, I’m always there.” 

“With Jake.” 

You frowned. “Yeah, with Jake.” 

“Y/N.” He tipped his head. “He’s like, old. You know that, right?” 

“What?” You were aghast. “I mean, yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” 

“He’s too old for you.” 

“He’s Jake!” you countered. “He’s dad’s friend. He’s my boss.” 

“Not once did you say you don’t want to date him.” 

The truth in Colin’s words prickled your brain. He was right. You couldn’t say that and be telling the truth. Because the truth was, as the days went by, you were starting to see Jake differently, despite your best efforts. He was kind and he was generous and he had an affable attitude that charmed everyone, old and young, man or woman. He was easy to be with. He made things fun. 

You shook your head. “Shut up, Colin.” 

He laughed. There was something buried in that laugh. How many times had the two of you snuck out in the middle of the night for a swim? How many times had you heard his laugh, and known that he was going to unearth your secrets? Colin knew everything you did before you even did it. 

***

“We need more sauvignon blanc on table three,” you said to the head waiter. He scampered toward the bar in the back, emerging a moment later with a frosty bottle of white, carefully cutting the metal wrapper tableside and popping the cork seamlessly. 

“Relax.” Jake appeared from behind, looking relaxed in a suit in the way only a confident man in his forties could. 

“I can’t,” you replied, eyes watching the bride and groom flit from table to table speaking with their guests. So far, nothing had gone wrong. At least, not in the front of the house. In the back, you had stopped three rounds of appetizers from being burned, and had to deal with a last minute rosé crisis. 

“I hired you because I knew you’d do the job well,” he said. “But I want you to have fun, too.” 

You shot him a glare and he smirked. “Fun? You think trying not to ruin someone’s wedding is fun?” 

“Honey, once they get down the aisle, nothing could ruin it. I could go over there and puke on her dress and it would still be the best day of her life.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He chuckled. “Do me a favor, Sparky?” 

“I’m not going to spill red wine on the mother of the groom just so you can have the last laugh.” 

“Have a drink,” Jake replied. “And save me a dance.” 

By the end of the night, you had eaten approximately fifteen balls of fried mac n cheese and had four glasses of champagne. As the last guests departed – the bride and groom had driven off in an antique Jaguar an hour earlier – you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Great job guys,” you said to the crew as they filed out of the kitchen, backs sore, white servers aprons splattered with wine. Your neck was aching and so were your feet. All you wanted to do was go home, take off your wrap dress and take a hot shower before stumbling into a fluffy pile of white bed linens. 

You had been surprised to learn that all of the vendors – the florist and the linen delivery and the chair rentals – would arrive the next morning to pack everything up. Somehow you had it in your mind that a wedding was ripped down the instant it was over. As if it was never there. But the reality was, the ghost of the wedding lived on through the night. In the quiet and the dark, the skeleton of everything remained. 

As you turned, heading for the stairs, Jake emerged at the top of the stairs. “Clocking out?” 

You nodded. “I need to sleep for one hundred years and quite possibly take the longest shower known to mankind.” 

Jake carefully stepped down the marble stairway before landing at the bottom, only a foot from you. “Well if you do that, I’d have to fire you.” 

Your face fell. “What?” 

“You promised me a dance,” he added. 

You frowned. “The musicians are gone. The wedding is over, Jake. And besides, my feet feel like they’re dying.” 

“Take off your shoes.” There was something authoritative about how he said it. And despite your bed calling your name, you followed his orders, slipping off the tall heels, bare feet hitting the cold marble floor and you almost moaned in relief. Jake held out one hand and you took it, letting him lead you out onto the empty dance floor. He pulled out his phone, hitting a few buttons before music filled the air around you. “One dance,” he whispered. 

“Yes, Jefe,” you replied and he smirked. Naturally, your fingertips reached for his, one hand tangled with his fingers, the other wound around his neck. Jake held your waist softly, pulling you in closer, until you could feel the heat of him on you. 

“I couldn’t do this without you, Y/N.” You knew it was serious when he didn’t call you Sparky, the heinous nickname that had come from that one summer as a child when you had been determined to teach the dogs how to do tricks like the seals at the zoo, balancing balls on their noses and doing flips in the water. It ended horribly, and there went your dream of being a zoo performer. 

“Yes you could,” you replied. “You did it before I came home. You’ll do it after.” 

Jake’s grip tightened microscopically, but you felt it. Like he was grounding himself as the two of you swayed in the open space. “What would you say if I begged you not to leave?” 

You looked up at him. The slight stubble across his jaw, the way his collar was pulled apart, a small tuft of chest hair peering through the top of the white shirt. “Jake, I—”

“I want the best for you, Y/N,” he interrupted. “I always have. But selfishly, I want you to myself, too. You make everything easier. You make everything better. And it’s been a long time since I felt like I could depend on anyone other than myself.” 

“The clinic isn’t anywhere near done,” you replied. “I still have months of construction and paperwork and hiring people.” 

“Just the thought of losing you.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m being selfish. I’m the adult here, I shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on you.” 

You stopped dancing, dropping Jake’s hand and lifting it to his neck so that your fingertips closed behind his collar. Jake’s hands fell dutifully to your waist, large fingertips digging into the sides beneath your ribs. “I’m not a kid anymore,” you whispered. “I’m twenty five.” 

Something passed between the two of you. You found yourself staring up at Jake, his algae green eyes, the way his lips were puckered slightly. The way he felt, hot, pressed against you. 

And then it was over. Jake’s hands fell from your waist as he took a step back. “It’s late,” he said softly. “Can I drive you home?” 

You frowned. “I drove myself. I’ll be fine.” 

He turned toward the stairs, the music in his pocket shutting off abruptly. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You watched his shoulders sag as he disappeared up the stairs. The thundering of your heart in your chest threatened to knock you over. 

Tag list:

@lyn-js @seresinhangmanjake @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @dempy @allbark-no-bite @teacupsandtopgun @na-ta-sh-aa @katiedid-3 @bradshawburner @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @rosiahills22 2 @emo @horseshoegirl @eminyourjeans

[dilfismz]

Such a Tease

Pairing- Perv! Matthew Lillard! William Afton X reader

Summary- You’re just so goddamn pretty, William can’t help himself. He tries his hardest to be professional at work around you but it seems like you just LIVE to push his buttons.

Warnings- age gap (reader is in her 20s, William is like 50), William being creepy, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, suggestive language, and implied smut.

Pt. 2

A/n- this is definitely gonna be on the shorter side

Holy shit is the first thing that crosses William’s mind when he catches a glimpse of you cleaning through the security cams. Your tight uniform pants cling to your ass as you bend over to pick up a misplaced item. As you stand up William notices the way you’ve styled your hair for the day, a loose ponytail, his favorite. He can’t help but fantasize about gripping you by your hair and forcing your mouth all the way down his length.

“Goddamn sweetheart”, William mutters to himself as he watches you, your hips swaying as you walk.

He picks up his phone and eagerly dials your number. He’s had it practically memorized since the day of your interview. He watches your eyebrows furrow through the camera as your phone starts to ring. You answer the call and William (“Steve” to you) begins to speak.

“Hey hun, need you in my office right now”, he croaks out excitedly.

“O-okay”… wha-, you begin before Steve hangs up abruptly.

Watching you through the cameras he waits anxiously. He bounces his knee under the desk, awaiting your arrival.

You firmly knock on the door before letting yourself in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Ah yes, I wanted to show you some old security footage. Come, sit”, he responds.

You walk up next to his desk before coming to a paralyzing conclusion, “Umm sir, there isn’t another seat for me.”

Steve smirks at this and pats his lap, inviting you to take a seat.

“You can’t be serious…”

Steve just continues to look up at you and pats his leg once again.

Your face flushes red as you take a seat. You can feel his erection pressing against you immediately and try your best to push those thoughts away.

Steve takes notice of your blush and wraps his arms around you whispering in your ear, “Comfy isn’t it? I could sit like this all day.”

[danikamariewrites]

im so in love with ddlg azriel, i was wondering if i could please request one where reader is fed up with work (me fr) and it stresses her out. she just wants to stay at home and bake and do cute stuff and live life (me fr) and she tells azriel this, she tells him she doesn’t even care ab money she wants a break from her horrible boss. he says he’ll take care of her, he already does, her own money is her own, even though azriel provides literally everything in her life. So they decide she’ll quit and do what pleases her instead. Maybe volunteer at the library in the house of wind with the priestesses. She looks so much more happy and azriels heart swells with love. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ pls

Done With Work

Azriel x reader

A/n: me too anon 😫 like what do you mean I have to work for the rest of my life?! I’m sick of it now 😭

I see this as the story for first few points in this headcanon

Warnings: ddlg, daddy kink, not proof read sorry lol

Your whole body felt heavy as you dragged yourself up the stairs to Azriel’s office. Without knocking you push the door open, giving your mate a tired look. “Y/n, what’s wrong my love?” You drop your bag and wordlessly walk over to him, plopping yourself on his lap and burying your face in his neck.

Breathing in his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar calmed you. Azriel brought his hand to rub up and down your spine. “I’m so sick of working Az.” You mumble. He adjusts you so your head rests on his chest and he can hear you clearly.

“Did something happen today?” You shrug lazily. “It’s just so draining. And I’ve worked all my life, I just want to do something for myself. I feel like I have no free time. And I’m just done.” Azriel hugged you tighter. “I want to quit Az. I need a break from terrible people. I have money so you don’t-“

Azriel cups your face cutting you off. He moves you so you’re looking up at him. “You are going to quit because I hate seeing you like this. You’re my mate and I want to keep you happy and comfortable. And don’t you dare bring up money. What you have is yours, let me take care of everything.”

Tears escaped your eyes as you smiled up at Azriel. “Thank you, my love.”

The next day you went in to work to quit. Your bosses look of shock brought you so much joy. You practically skipped out of the building and all the way home to Azriel. He swears he’d never seen you this happy about something so small.

From that day on Azriel told you to do whatever your heart desired. So you took your time getting into your new routine. First thing was to catch up on your sleep. Your sleep schedule was atrocious so you spent the first two weeks sleeping in.

Then you finally got around to decorating and rearranging the house the way you wanted. Azriel’s heart soared when he came home after a quick mission. The house felt warmer with you in the center of it.

You took your time exploring Velaris. Visiting a new part of the city everyday. Of course you spent most of your time in the Rainbow and had taken a liking to staying at Feyre’s studio some days.

You spent more time with Feyre and Elain. You helped Gwyn in the library and even started going to training in the morning. And when Nesta had time you two would read together. You started going out with Mor and Feyre a few nights a week too. Azriel felt like he was watching you, his beautiful and wonderful mate, come back to life again.

What you loved most about your new life style was the care and attention you got from Azriel. Not that you didn’t get it before. But now you have time to really enjoy it.

Everything he did for you put you back together. From spa days to simple lazy mornings in bed he made sure that you were happy and cared for. After the conversation about your relationship you were both insanely happy.

Azriel loved taking care of you, and with this new dynamic and nicknames it all just felt right. He felt like you could truly be open with him.

Your happiness really hit him on a day where you slept in and he made breakfast. Az wanted to bring you breakfast in bed but you got up before it was ready. His shadows altered him to your presence. Turning, he saw you rub your eyes with a smile. You looked so cute in just his t-shirt and panties.

“Good morning princess.” “Morning daddy.” You pad over to him, standing on your tiptoes you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Breakfast smells delicious. Did you make coffee?” “I did.” You let out a small happy sound and filled up two mugs bringing them over to the kitchen table.

You sit waiting for Az to bring your plates over. When Azriel finally sits you’re adding an obscene amount of sugar to your coffee. Azriel takes the spoon from your hand, “That’s enough princess or your teeth will rot.” You let out a huff and pick the syrup up to drown your pancakes in them.

“What can I say, I have a sweet tooth.” You let out a small giggle at Azriel’s fake stern face. Quicker than you can comprehend Azriel tickles your sides and you let out a scream of laughter. “Daddy stop, I can’t, aahhh!” Azriel pulls you onto his lap leaving small kisses all over your face as you continue to giggle.

Once you calmed down you snuggled into Azriel, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “I love you so much daddy.” Az hugged you back equally as tight, “I love you too so much princess.” You lean back smiling up at him. You peck his nose quickly and cup his face in your hands. “Thank you. For everything. I’m just, I’m so happy.”

Azriel felt tears from behind his eyes. He could feel your happiness radiating down the bond. That made him feel like the luckiest male in the world. The two of you loved each other and he has the best mate. “You never have to thank me princess. I told you, it’s my job.”

He turns you to face the table and lets you get comfortable as he pulls your plate over. “What do you want first.” “Hhmm…bacon!” Azriel took a strip of bacon from your plate holding it up to your mouth. Taking a bite you let out a satisfied hum. He kissed the back of your head as he began to cut up your pancakes.

If there was a moment you could live in with Azriel forever, it would be this one. You both had nothing to do today. He was feeding you. And he was holding you close, making you feel more loved than you had in your entire life.

[miley1442111]

hii love ur content!!! single-handedly carrying sydney adamu x reader fans rn LOL. was wondering if u could write something w femreader x syd where reader is filling in for marcus as he takes personal leave for his mom? like something with buildup and clear romantic tension in the kitchen btwn them and possible hesitation to act on it from syd’s end when they work together but immediately get tg afterwards ?? if you get the vision!! thank uuu <3333

thank you for requesting this, i love this idea so i'm going to give it two parts if that's ok!

i will always push the sydney adamu x reader agenda

in a minute- s.adamu

a/n: this is PART 1 of most likely two but i'm not sure yet. this is intended for a femreader but you can ignore that and imagine what you want :)

summary: you get a call from carmen berzatto to fill in as a pastry chef, you have nothing better to do, right?

pairing: sydney adamu x reader

warnings: mentions of a difficult workplace environment, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of not communicating, cursing

Getting the call from Carmen Berzatto made you sick. He was your replacement in New York, he hated you, at least you thought he did. You were leaving New York for Paris, becoming a pastry chef after being sick of the stupid pressure and disgusting abuse you had gotten from restaurants over the years. Don’t get me wrong, being a pastry chef was difficult too, the insufferable people and bosses made you want to rip your hair out, but anything was better than New York. You had trained Carmen for a week, giving him your number in case he needed to ask any other questions. You assumed he’d deleted it. But no, four months into living in Chicago, teaching masterclasses and subbing in for people in various Michelin-star restaurants and bakeries, Carmen Berzatto called and asked if you could cover his pastry chef for a few weeks. You agreed and showed up the next day to see a restaurant that was not yet finished. Residue from walls lay on the floor, mould on the ceilings and an empty kitchen, bare of appliances met your eyes as you walked in. A pretty girl with headphones in stood in the locker room as you turned the corner and she startled when she noticed you. 

“Jesus! Y-you scared me,” she smiled, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you smiled, stretching out your hand for a hand shake. “I’m y/n y/l/n, is Carmen Berzatto here? Or his partner, Sydney Adamu?”

“Oh my god, you’re Y/n y/ln. Like the only woman ever the International Union of Bakers and Pastry Chefs named ‘best pastry chef’,” she said, shocked that you were standing in front of her. 

You felt heat crawl up your back. You still couldn’t get used to people knowing who you were, it was strange. “The very same,” you practically grimaced. “So, are chefs Carmen or Sydney around?”

“I-I’m Sydney,” she smiled, shaking your hand. “Sorry if that was weird, I just… yeah.”

“It’s fine, I’m just awkward about it, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” she smiled, then snapped out of it. “What are you- I don’t know how to say this politely-”

“What am I doing here?” you finished for her and she nodded. “Carmen called me a few days ago, I trained him in New York and he apparently still has my number. He asked me to fill in for Marcus?” 

“Yeah, ok. So… umm, yeah ok. That’s cool,” She said, still coming to grips with it. 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

“No,” she admitted, sighing. 

“He always was kind of a dick. Don’t worry, I bet he’s just cooling-off or something, he used to get so angry we’d shove him in the freezer for a few minutes to let him calm down.”

Sydney looked at you in bewilderment. 

“I take it that he’s still like that?” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Only sometimes though.”

“‘Sometimes’ is too much for me, if he starts pulling that shit I’ll send him out. He’s such a baby sometimes,” you reminisced. “Sorry, if that’s rude since he’s your partner.”

“Well, he doesn’t really feel like a partner,” she sighed, leading you to the office. 

“Not communicating?”

“Never. I didn’t even know we were pulling down walls until they were down.”

“Shit, that’s awful,” you sighed. 

“I’ll call him and see where he is, just wait in here,” she smiled and opened the door for you, then left you alone. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 1

Working at the Bear was different to anywhere else you’d worked. The people there were interesting in a way that only people outside of the Michelin-restaurant world could be. None of the bullshit you’d dealt with in New York, none of the crap you had to put up with in Paris. They were professional, but they cared about each other. Tina had become a good friend in only the one week you’d been there. Richie was pissing you off enough to warrant stabbing- something that had apparently happened before, and Carmen was either there all the time, or nowhere to be seen. 

And then, there was Sydney. Sydney had essentially fucked you up. From the moment you’d met her, you knew you were fucked. Her soft smile and endearing awkwardness made her basically irresistible. It was embarrassing how in just one week, you felt like you couldn’t be in the same room as her, yet you craved to be near her all the time. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yo, you good?’ Sydney asked as you mapped out dessert ideas Marcus had sent you.

“Huh? Oh-yeah, all good,” you smiled.

“How do you like it?” she asked, cleaning the new silverware. 

“Like what?”

“The Bear?”

“It’s nice. Calmer than the restaurants I’ve worked in,” you answered and she laughed.

“This is calm for you?” 

“You should’ve seen Carmen and I’s boss in New York. Every night he’d make me stay until after closing, fixing any mistakes I’d made if I’d made any. After a while, it was just verbal abuse,” you chuckled and she smiled half-heartedly at you, her eyes missing the certain glow she usually had. 

“Sounds fun,” she joked, but it fell flat on both ends, then she walked away. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d made a fool of yourself, or made her uncomfortable. 

You internally kicked yourself. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 2

You liked to pride yourself on two things, your standards in the kitchen, and your ability to stay calm under any circumstance. One of those didn’t apply to the current situation, and the other had been thrown out the window 3 minutes ago when this conversation started, more specifically, when Sydney started touching your arm. 

Carmen had finally come in and you’d gotten in a fight over the menu. You wanted something Marcus had suggested and Carmen wanted fucking fig rolls or something, you didn’t exactly know but you do know that it ended in you storming off to the back of the Bear and Carmen storming off to his office. You felt a swell in your heart when Sydney had come to you first, before she went to talk to Carmen. 

“You good?” she asked, accompanying you in the freezing air. You didn’t respond, still annoyed from the conversation. “Earth to Y/n?” Sydney had grabbed your arm and your eyes trained themselves on hers. 

“Yeah, just pissed,” you sighed, answering her first question. “He really doesn’t listen, does he?” You yawned. Sydney’s hand felt like it was burning itself into your skin. 

“No, he kind of refuses to,” she joked. “But if it makes you feel any better, I like your ideas more.”

“They’re Marcus’s ideas, just my drawings,” you were quick to deflect the compliment.

“Well they're beautiful,” she declared, with some uncertain meaning behind her words. ‘Well, you’re beautiful’ is what you picked up from her insinuation and your heart beat much faster than before. “Coming back in?” She dropped her hand and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“In a minute.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 3 

Ok, so maybe you could pride yourself on just one more thing, the effect you had on Sydney. 

For the past two weeks, it’d been fleeting glances, the creating and taking of opportunities to touch each other, and small flirty conversation. Sydney had asked you to taste test some restaurants with her, and you had a great time. Conversation flowed, you felt relaxed for the first time in what felt like years, and you were spending time with the girl you liked. 

“Y/N?” You heard Sydney’s voice from behind you. “Behind!” she said. 

You had asked an old friend if you could borrow his restaurant's kitchen and he obliged, knowing he owed you a favour from when you saved him from being fired 7 years ago. 

“Yeah?” You called back, focused on your plating. 

“You almost done?”

“Almost,” you added the finishing touches to the plate and stepped back, a silent victory. It looked delicious. “Done!”

She handed you a fork and you took a bite at the same time. It tasted… terrible. You both spit it out into the sink behind you, then looked at each other and laughed. 

“That is god-awful,” you coughed, a laugh making its way out of your mouth.  

“Oh fuck that’s bad,” she laughed with you, a hand on your shoulder to brace herself. 

Both your laughters died down and her hand remained. She looked so beautiful, her hair pulled back in a blue bandana, her regular chef-white swapped for a green t-shirt and white overalls, and a smile on her face. You seized the moment and kissed her, it started out soft, cautious. Though it quickly divulged into something less sweet. Her tongue was in your mouth and your hands were roaming her waist. She gasped when you bit her lip and you smirked into the kiss. A buzzing noise pulled you two apart, heavy breathing and an uncomfortable stare of ‘what did we just do?’. You grabbed your buzzing phone, bag, and jacket, and left her in the restaurant. 

Was it the coward’s way out? Yes. Did that matter much to you? No. 

Not one bit.

[imtrashraccoon]

Uh, this one I had planned from the beginning and I honestly love how it turned out. It definitely got away from me though.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Vibe Check

Word Count: 1,865

As you entered your apartment, you closed and locked your front door. For a moment you debated putting the deadbolt in place before just doing it, as you never knew what could happen nowadays.

With a sigh, you slipped off your shoes and hung up your coat. Today had been exhausting and your back was killing you from sitting in those office chairs for so long. Still, you could relax now, at least until you had to return to the dreaded grind tomorrow morning. The moment you turned around though, you gasped.

Dust was sitting on your couch.

His skull was propped by his arms and he was hunched forward in a way that couldn't be comfortable for long. He was sitting so still, that you couldn't tell if he even knew you were there or not.

"Hey... Are you okay, buddy?" you asked carefully.

He shifted and glanced up at you, although he was still clutching his skull with his gloved hands. Did he have a headache? There were dark grooves underneath his eye sockets reminiscent of eye bags that humans got when they didn't sleep well. His mismatched eyelights seemed quite as well and almost glossed over, like he wasn't quite focusing on you, or anything else for that matter.

His gaze seemed to pierce through to your soul and yet, he said nothing. It was almost as if the person you knew as Dust wasn't actually there at the moment and you were looking into the hollow eye sockets of a husk.

"Oh boy... I'm gonna guess that you've had a rough day so far."

He didn't respond.

You shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze and looked around for anything that might solve the mood of Mr. Spooky Scary. "Do you...mind if I just go get changed out of these work clothes? I'll be right back, okay?"

You didn't expect an answer and didn't receive one either. So, you decided to just give him a bit of space for a few minutes while you settled down a little now that you were home. At least he seemed passive at the moment and not hostile like you'd previously witnessed.

Once you were in comfy clothes, you re-entered the living room and found Dust in much the same position you'd left him in. You elected to unpack your bag and put things away though before trying to interact with him further.

Although, you couldn't help hating the silence and decided to try to engage in conversation with him. "I had a bad day too. I mean, it probably wasn't as bad as yours but still... I get it," you said quietly.

No response.

"One of my coworkers neglected to finish a report last week and the client practically raised hell until we got it done. So the big boss has been on us all day."

You sighed and shook your head, "It's frustrating getting punished for a problem an idiot caused that I had no involvement in."

Dust was still ignoring you, or at least, you couldn't tell if he was actually listening or not. Maybe you should try cheering him up? Although, you'd have to do something to shock him out of his current staring contest with the floor first.

You had to be careful not to startle him too badly though as you generally quite liked being alive. Plucking a small throw pillow from its place on the couch, you hesitated for a moment before actually following through with your "prank."

You lightly smacked the top of his skull with the pillow; not nearly hard enough to hurt of course, just to get his attention.

"Vibe check."

He was startled more than you'd expected and sort of jumped to get away from your rather pathetic assault. His eyelights flickered wildly before focusing on you and his expression morphed into one of annoyance.

"what are you-!?"

You hushed him with an outstretched finger and pursed your lips in a thoughtful way. "Hm...your vibe seems...annoyed and bewildered," you said in the most serious tone you could muster.

"no kidding! do you have no survival instincts or something?!" Dust growled.

You tilted your head and pretended to think for a moment. "Huh... Considering Axe once asked me pretty much the same question, no... I think they're probably broken, at least when it comes to skeletons anyways."

He stared at you in disbelief before collapsing back against the backrest of the couch. "well that explains a lot..." he muttered and ran a gloved hand over his face.

You frowned slightly as you studied him. It really bothered you to see him, or anyone for that matter, upset like this. He'd come here on purpose though so that must mean he actually wanted to be with you. However, you were a little confused why, as he hadn't been exactly nice in the few interactions you'd had so far with him.

Sitting down on the couch next to him, you reached over and gently put your hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for scaring you like that just now, Dust. If you need to talk about whatever's bothering you, I'm here, okay?"

He shook his skull and remained silent.

You stayed there for a few seconds but when he didn't respond further, you decided to let it go. You'd tried, but if he didn't want to tell you, then you couldn't make him. Just as you withdrew your hand though, he seemed to realize that you'd actually touched him and his mismatched eyelights flicked over to you.

"how do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He vaguely gestured with his hands in the space between you two. "that...thing... how..." He seemed to be having a hard time articulating his thoughts all of the sudden. "how do you make your intent so...gentle...?"

Now you were also confused. "I don't know? Is it not usually like that?"

He stared at you blankly like you'd just asked an incredibly dumb question. "no...it's not. most humans only utilize it to attack other people."

"Oh."

"did someone teach you or something?"

You shook your head slowly. "No...? I don't have magic so I wasn't ever considered for mage training."

"so you just do this? like all the time and you never noticed? in fact, not even a monster noticed before now?" His tone of voice sounded skeptical but there was also a twinge of disbelief.

"I suppose so..." You crossed your arms when his jaw fell open slightly in shock. "What? I don't have any monster friends besides you and Axe, okay? I'm basically a shut in except for when I need to go to work or go shopping."

"wow...you're actually crazy..." He shook his skull and lightly massaged his temples. "my headache is only getting worse just listening to you..."

"Oh, is that what's bothering you then?" you asked, purposely ignoring his insult.

Dust sighed and frowned at you. "it's one thing i guess...among many others..." he muttered.

You gave him a warm smile in return. "If it'll help you feel better to tell someone, I don't mind."

He muttered something unintelligible and quickly looked away.

"Sorry?"

"fine... just...give me your hand back..." he grumbled.

You raised an eyebrow but held out your hand again.

He hesitated and then reached over, wrapping his pinkie finger around your own. You didn't make any comment and just waited patiently.

"do you know what lv is?"

His voice sounded rather hollow all of the sudden, like all previous emotions had bled away, and you felt a small chill pass down your spine. You did know what LV was, or at least you vaguely knew, thanks to general magic education in school anyways.

"Yeah," you murmured. "Levels of Violence, right?"

He nodded slowly. "do you know what happens to someone with too much lv?"

You didn't like where he was going with this, but you had basically promised to listen to whatever he had to say and weren't about to back out now.

"I'm afraid I don't... They never covered it in school beyond how bad it was to get."

He let out a bitter sounding laugh. "figures..."

A few moments passed before he spoke again. "it's like an addiction... once you have some, you want more, and more, and more... and if you don't get more...well, you go through withdrawals."

You grimaced at the mental picture his rambling brought on. It sounded awful to go through and you couldn't help the immense wave of concern for him that washed over you.

"So, that's why you came here?" you asked.

"yeah..." he murmured, although his voice sounded a little hoarse all of the sudden. "my skull feels like it's gonna explode and my idiot colleague was being annoying."

"Can I try to help you?"

He looked over at you again with surprise almost plastered across his skull. It disappeared quickly and he regained his trademark neutral expression.

"sure, whatever, knock yourself out..." he said with a shrug.

You went to stand up but hesitated when you realized his pinky was still linked with yours. He noticed as well and quickly pulled his hand away, ducking further into his hoodie as he did so. You restrained yourself from teasing him over this school kid behaviour, for now anyways.

First thing on the agenda was to make the room darker and you turned out the lights except for the one in the kitchen for now. It wasn't too dark outside yet, although you didn't want to potentially trip over something when it did get.

"Do you want some water or maybe tea?"

"water's fine."

"And do you prefer an ice pack or a hot bean bag?"

He seemed to mull this over for a moment. "ice pack would be better," he finally said with a shrug.

You disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the items. The ice pack was easy to prepare and the glass of water was even easier. After you'd wrapped the ice pack in a soft cloth, you returned to the living room with the water.

Dust glanced up when you approached but said nothing. You sat down and gave him the items, which he excepted and downed half the water in moments.

You couldn't help but stare at him as he did so. Where did the liquid go? Was he like a bottomless pit or something?

He quickly noticed your staring and shot you a weird look. "what?"

You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and shook your head. "Sorry...I was just thinking is all," you muttered.

A moment later though, you had a question. "Would a head massage be of any benefit for you?"

He seemed actually intrigued by this and pondered it over for a moment. "can't hurt i suppose."

"Then just turn a little so I can actually reach you, okay?"

You spent the next few hours just sitting together in relative silence. Dust was surprisingly mellow considering your first encounter and he basically just tolerated whatever you did. When supper time came, you got up to go make something for the both of you.

He was gone when you turned to ask if he had any particular food preferences though.

[blueicequeen19]

Charter Ch. 6

Warnings: drama, angst, threats of violence, oral, protected sex, age gap, boss & employee

Chelsea is here and she brought friends from the rougher side of the Cut. Baseheads. Big, buff friends covered in tattoos that look like they’re here for a fight. JJ takes a deep, murderous breath and I find myself taking his hand.

“Stay here.” JJ doesn’t look at me as he moves to the door but I tug on his wrist.

“Call the police!” I plead, reaching up to capture his face between my hands. His blue eyes are ablaze, his chest heaving with every angry breath.

“The cops in this town don’t give a shit about a Maybank.” JJ bites back, trying to pull away from me but I shake my head.

“There’s four of them and one of you. Do not do this.” JJ pulls free of my hold and steps back, going to a shelf next to the tv and grabbing something off the top shelf. A gun.

“JJ, wait, let’s just—.”

“I’m done with these fucking clowns. Stay in here. I mean it.” JJ steps onto the enclosed porch with the gun in his hand as his ex and her friends yell profanities and threats. I’m frozen for a moment before I run back to his bedroom to find my phone.

I quickly dial the sheriffs department and on the sixth ring an annoyed sounding female dispatcher answered.

“I need the police to my location for a.. break in. I’m not sure the address but it’s out on the marsh, a fairly newer build.”

“Ma’am, is this not your residence?”

“No, it’s my.. friends.” There’s a pause and a lot of clicking of a keyboard.

“I have your location. Is Johnathon James Maybank the owner?” I pause, having never heard JJ’s real name before. No wonder he went by JJ if John B was practically his brother.

“Yes.”

“Okay ma’am, all our officers are currently busy on other calls but we’ll send someone out there as soon as we can.”

“Are you serious? They have guns! Someone could get shot!” I was only assuming but at this rate with all the craziness, I wouldn’t put it past these people who decided to trespass.

“Ma’am—.” I hang up and look up John B on social media before sending him an urgent message. I quickly throw my phone down and pull on a pair of his shorts before running back down the hallway to the front of the house. I stop to grab the wooden baseball bat next to the front door and step out onto the enclosed porch where JJ stands on the steps, gun in hand.

I try not to let my gaze linger too long on the marks I made all over his back and arms as I move next to him.

“I’m not going to tell you again—.”

“Look who it is! Your little employee putting in her overtime! Is she even legal, J?” Chelsea laughs, pushing her blonde hair off shoulder with a wicked grin. She looked worse than the last time I saw her.

“Looks like she wants some of this too.” One of her goons says, looking to the bat in my hand.

“The cops are on their way. Better leave while you still can.” I announce, swinging the bat up to rest on my shoulder. Their eyes widen in alarm and JJ’s head snaps towards mine.

“You know what happens to snitches?” Chelsea spats at me, her face scrunched up in a snarl.

“You know what happens to trespassers?” JJ counters, the click of the safety being released echoing between all of us.

“My child lives here. I have a right to be anywhere she is.”

“You have no rights so therefore you don’t. Crawl back into whatever hole you’ve been in and fuck off.”

“You gonna back that mouth up, Blondie? Your daddy still owes us money.” One of the guys calls, cracking his knuckles. His dad? But JJ only smirks.

“Come and get some. You wouldn’t be the first bitch I’ve put in their place.” The guys all stiffen, nostrils flaring as their hands ball into fists.

“J.” I whisper softly, wrapping my hand around his wrist. He was terrifying like this. Just then the bloop of a police siren startles us all and a cruiser turns into the yard since the driveway is blocked. Shoupe steps out, hand on his gun, as he faces the trespassers.

“There a problem here?” Shoupe asks, his voice and posture dripping with authority.

“No, officer. No problems here. Just having a friendly chat. We’ll be going now.” Chelsea shoots us both a deadly look before her and her goons pile back into the piece of shit truck they came in and back out of the driveway.

What were we going to do now that they know where he lives?

Shoupe turns back to us, his hand still on his gun as he looks from JJ to the piece in his hand.

“You got a permit for that, Maybank?” JJ’s body visibly relaxes after the taillights for Chelsea’s truck can no longer be seen and he smirks at Shoupe.

“For what?” JJ counters, clicking the safety on and tucking the gun into the waistband of his shorts.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” Shoupe asks, finally taking his hand off his own gun and approaching. JJ shrugs.

“Hard telling.” I shoot a look at him. Why is he not saying anything?

“Uh huh. Word around town is your ex is causing trouble and asking about you and your daughter. Do you have a protective order in place?”

“A piece of paper doesn’t stop anything.”

“Maybe not but it’s a paper trail and if it gets violated, people end up in jail.” JJ stays silent for a moment, staring back at Shoupe.

“Just come down to the station and we can get the paperwork started.” Shoupe presses but JJ shows no sign of giving in.

“J.” I try to take his hand but he curls his fingers away, like a punch to the gut. I have to fight to keep my face neutral as Shoupe looks between us.

“I’ll think about it. See you later, Shoupe.” JJ dismisses Shoupe before turning and disappearing into the house. Shoupe gives me a look I can’t quiet pinpoint - like pity - and gets back into his cruiser. I watch him exit the driveway before heading back inside.

I hear the shower turn on but I know for some reason I’m not invited. I quickly redress into my own clothes and throw my hair up into a bun. Emotions choke me and my throat is tight. This was a lot to deal with. It’s no wonder he kept me at arms length. But why was he mad now? Because I called the cops? Did he really want to face them alone? I startle at a knock on the front door then I hear it open. I emerge into the hallway to see John B walking in, obviously comfortable enough to just walk in. His eyes lock on me and he gives me a nod of acknowledgment.

“Everything good here?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Yea. Shoupe came after all.” John B nods just as JJ enters the hallway in a towel. He looks from me to John B and shakes his head.

“It’s all good, Bree.” JJ sighs, going into the kitchen to get a beer.

“What did Shoupe do?” John B asks, taking a beer from JJ.

“Nothing but piss them off.” I scoff at JJ’s words. Why was he insisting on fighting this battle alone? His eyes narrow at me just as John B glances between us.

“He wants JJ to file a protective order against Chelsea so if she comes around Summer, she’ll be arrested. He’s also pissy that I called you and Shoupe.” I announce, crossing my arms and staring back at the heated blonde. I can feel John B look between us again.

“Yea, JJ don’t like cops or people helping him. He’s the only one allowed to be put at risk. Been that way since we were kids.” John B says, drawing JJ’s glare to him.

“I got shit to do. I’ll be there to get Summer in a bit.” John B chuckles at JJs dismissal.

“Whatever you want to do. Sarah says she can stay again if needed.” John B rounds the counter and they do some tacky handshake before John B makes his way to the door, only pausing to look back at me.

“Keep him out of trouble.” He says, before closing the door behind him. I nod, my heart racing a mile a minute as I turn to face JJ. His glaring at me, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders and down his chest. Why was he so sexy when he was pissed off?

“You should probably head out. And watch your back now that there’s a target on it.” JJ says, tipping his beer up and draining the rest of it.

“I’ll just call the police again.” I shrug, crossing my arms as we glare back at each other.

“People on the Cut, especially Baseheads, don’t fuck around when it comes to snitches. It’s an unspoken rule not to talk to cops. That’s a Kook thing.” JJ snaps, drawing my attention to the Pogue tattoo across his knuckles.

“So, what? You were just going to take on all of them? Four vs one? End up in jail yourself? What happens to Summer if you go to jail?” I throw back and he growls, taking a dangerous step towards me. I crane my neck to look up at him, refusing to back down.

“If you wanted someone you can tell what to do and control, you picked the wrong girl.” I breathe, my body heating just being this close to him. JJ’s eyes trail over me, down the skimpy outfit I came in last night and back up to my face.

“I didn’t pick anyone.” His words have their desired effect and I try not to wince. “Now go. I’ll see you at work.” JJ nods to the door and for once I don’t have a single smart comment to make so I simply grab my things and leave.

I refuse to cry or show my wounded heart so I do the only thing I can.. fake it. The rest of the week slides by with ease and I pretend that JJ means absolutely nothing. I don’t stay until close like normal so I’m not tempted to let him bend me over the nearest flat surface. And I know id give in.

I manage to keep myself busy by picking up another job for the evenings on weekends, flirting with boys closer to my age, then masturbating until I’m weak. The only problem being that I get myself off to the memory of him. The way he feels. The sounds he makes when he cums. The way he tastes. The feel of his callused hands and rings on my body. I can make myself cum three times in a row and it still doesn’t dampen the fire that he’s lit in me.

I manage our shifts together just fine as long as I don’t look at him. When work needs to be discussed, I busy myself and keep my head down while giving one worded answers. I can feel the tension between us growing. I’m sure he’s just as pent up as I am. I’m surprised he hasn’t thrown me over his shoulder yet and hauled me to the back. But he would think that’s him giving in and he’s not one to lose.

I’m scrolling through my phone on my break, hiding in the tiny room with enough room for a fridge, microwave, and a sink, when I stumble across a video I took of him going down on me. Heat erupts all over my body and my clit throbs like the horny bitch she is at the memory. I can’t stop myself from lowering the volume and watching as he works my pussy with that skilled tongue, his heated blue eyes staying on mine. My own moans have me squeezing my thighs together. He sucks my clit into his mouth, making my hips jerk in the video and as I’m standing here watching. When he pulls back to reveal his arousal covered mouth and pushes two fingers inside me, I turn the video off, my body on the verge of combusting. I drop my phone on the table and grip the edges to try and ground myself. I squeeze my thighs tight but the ache doesn’t subside. I’m literally on the verge of slipping my hand into my shorts when a throat clears behind me. I snatch up my phone as I turn to face him, my heart in my throat and my pussy pulsing. Just by the look in his eyes, I can tell he knows what I was doing. Or about to do. I love and hate that cocky smirk of his and the way he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“I have a video similar to that.” JJ props his shoulder up against the door frame as he pulls out his phone, swipes a few times then turns it to face me. I remember this video too. My back was pinned against the wall as he fucked my face while keeping his hands on his phone. My throat had been so sore but it was worth it. I tear my gaze away from the sight of his cock jackhammering into my mouth, and glare at him.

“I think I have another one too. Ahh, yep.” JJ plays another of me riding him in reverse cowgirl, his free hand grabbing and slapping my ass as I bounce on him.

“Oh, this one is my favorite.” JJ changes the videos to one I instantly recognize from the last time we were together. My heart hurts because somehow this one felt more personal. He’s fucking me from behind, his body flat on top of mine as the phone rests against the headboard, capturing both our faces and his cock disappearing inside me. It was probably the most intense sex we’d ever had.

“Look into the camera.” JJ whispers in my ear in the video. I whimpered as he cupped my throat and forced me to look up, my eyes hooded and my lips parted.

“Watch yourself fall apart for me.” He’d whispered into my ear as he delivered rough, deep strokes. My entire body shivers and I turn away, goosebumps coating my skin as my panties soak further with my arousal. The fucking bastard.

JJ’s hands are suddenly on me and I don’t even fight him. I’m too weak. I miss him so much. I take it when he bends me over the table with a growl and enters me in one hard, deep thrust. His hand fists the back of my shirt as he fucks me hard and fast. I cum quicker than I ever have before, tears in my eyes, as I fight to keep from moaning loudly. His hands slide between us to stroke my clit before I’ve even come back down and my body clenches even harder around his.

“One more. Come on. I know you need it.” JJ urges in my ear. He’s right and I hate him. I shatter into a million pieces before going limp on top of the table as he releases in the condom. I can’t breathe or move as he pulls out, discards the condom and pulls my shorts back up. JJ pulls me to look at him but I don’t want to. It hurts too much.

“Your break is over.” JJ whispers, looking at my lips for a moment before walking away from me. Again.

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Four: Mail

Jegulus, where Regulus lives with Sirius and Sirius is... alluded to being the boss of some shady shit and James is a bodyguard. Idk it was late and I was sleep deprived

Regulus never got letters, which is why it was so odd that for the past few days he’d practically run to the letter box and retreat into his room. It was even odder that Sirius could hear him giggling from his office. He’d never actually seen what happened, he’d only heard it from the first room next to the front door. But today? Today, he stood in their kitchen and stared at the door, trying to figure out what magic it now possessed.

At exactly ten twenty five, Sirius heard Regulus’ alarm go off. At exactly ten thirty, Reg walked out of his room, stifling a yawn and went over to the door. At exactly ten thirty two a letter fell through the slot into his waiting hands. It had been the same for almost a week.

“Reggie?”

The younger brother froze where he stood for a second before turning to face him. Sirius usually had a meeting at ten fifteen which lasted until eleven. “Good morning, don’t you have a meeting?”

Sirius held up his phone, the screen showing he was indeed on a call, but muted. He tapped his ear where he had his headphone and smiled, “I’ll know if they need me, it’s the same boring drivel.”

“You’re the boss, why do you even need to be in all of the meetings?”

“I’m a hands-on boss. What’s the letter?”

“It’s nothing.” He shifted the weight of the paper between his hands slightly and forced a convincing smile, “do you want to order in tonight?”

“You never get mail.”

Regulus shrugged, “well I wouldn’t know what it was unless I’d opened it, hm?”

“Oh, right of course. But our mailman does his deliveries at eight and no one else has access to the foyer. Unless you’ve given them the code?”

“I’m not an idiot, Sirius, besides, plenty of people have the code.”

“People who work for me.”

“You are indeed the boss.” He shifted his weight again and rubbed at his eyes, feigning more exhaustion than he was experiencing. “Can I go back to bed now?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him, “is there a security breach, Reggie?”

“What? No!”

“You can’t trust everyone, you know?”

The younger scoffed and moved to walk past him but he was stopped in his tracks by his brother stepping practically into him. He glowered at him, “move.”

“This is serious.”

Reg rolled his eyes, “no, that’s you. Now budge.”

“You might like them, Reggie, but it’s not safe for anyone to have that code other than the people I directly give it to.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I know all about the bloody business. No need to remind me. I’m perfectly safe. I don’t even open the bloody door.”

The older brother straightened up, “Regulus.”

He groaned and lifted his tee slightly to show the gun resting in the elastic of his shorts, “happy?”

Sirius stared at him for a moment, “where did you-”

“Oh please. Did you think I thought you were the CEO of a tech company? I’m twenty-three, Siri, I’m not naive. You could keep me locked in this apartment forever and all it would show me was the ways out.”

“I told you not to… it’s not safe, Regulus!”

“Well, I’ve not died yet. You might as well train me, I’ll be joining the others anyway.”

“Don’t be absurd, and don’t change the subject. Who did you give the code to?”

Regulus just smiled, “I didn’t.”

“Then-”

“You did. They’re on your payroll.”

“Everyone on my payroll is in the meetin-” he broke off and stared at the letter, then at his brother’s face, at the door, back at his phone. He hung up without a word and called a different number. “My baby brother? Are you kidding me, James?”

“Hello to you too.”

Sirius cursed under his breath and Reg was mildly worried he’d snap his phone in half, “did you tell him?”

“No, of course I didn’t. He’s not an idiot. He’s known for years.”

“He’s- you’ve known for years?!”

Regulus shrugged and smiled again, “most of your plans would have failed.”

“You messed with my plans?”

“I fixed them.”

He glared at him somehow more but turned his attention back to James, “I told you to guard the fucking perimeter not drop off love letters.”

“You can’t assign me as the bodyguard to someone so beautiful and expect me to just be fine.”

“I will kill you.”

James scoffed and the brother’s heard the door to the foyer open. Reg felt his cheeks heat and he quickly ducked into his bedroom to change, “no, you won’t. I’ve kept him safe for years.”

“Whilst what? Flirting with him?!”

“Sure… flirting… yep. Anyway, I'm almost there, one second.” He hung up the phone and there was a very smug sounding knock on the door. You might be wondering how someone could make a knock sound smug but if anyone could, it would be James Fucking Potter.

Sirius typed in the code to unlock the door and flung it open with a dramatic huff, “you’re dead, Potter.”

“You’ve said. Where is he?”

“I hate you. I’m the bloody boss and-”

Regulus walked out of his room in a hoodie Sirius distinctly remembers not buying, “hey, mon amour. Sirius, breathe. I mean, this is really your own fault. If you’re going to lock me in here and the only man I’d have access to is this fucking hot? Your own fault.”

“I-”

“Careful, mate, you’ll catch flies if you keep gaping like that. Hi, sweetheart, c’mere.”

He smiled and walked over just slow enough that it could be considered walking before jumping up and giggling when he was caught by the brunette. He wrapped his legs around his waist and knocked their foreheads together, “hi.”

Sirius was staring at them again, his mouth still agape, “you- he- you’re… you’re dating?”

“What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know! A secret admirer thing! How did you two even-”

James smiled, “when you go out on business, I mean, really he’s far safer with me in the apartment than me just strolling around outside.”

“And I’m much safer going out with him than sneaking out alone.”

The older brother threw his hands up in defeat and walked back into his office, holding out a gun to Reg, “come on then, we better get started on that training. And get rid of that piece of shit, you need a proper gun now.”

[radiant-reid]

hiii could you do like a blurb on spence when he’s in crutches in season 5 and he’s not resting he’s does cases and everything but reader wants him to rest so gives him head or something i don’t know🤭

no bc he is so cute and he deserves so much head

"Spencer Reid, you'll sit down right now if you don't want me calling Hotch." You warn your boyfriend as he tries to sneak into your home office. It's part of his reinstatement that he can't do any extra work from home. He can't understand how it's meant to protect him from overexerting himself while he's not 100% healthy.

Even though he's usually the rigorous rule follower, you have your turn when it comes to making sure your boyfriend is healthy.

He sighs loudly as he does what he's told, making sure you know he's in the living room by turning on the TV. "Sorry, I forgot you were the boss of me." He grovels.

"Well, you'll stop complaining if you want your juice." You tell him, treating him like he's a child. You hand the cup to him before sitting down next to him. "Feel okay?"

"I promise I'm okay." He assures you. "And thank you for my juice. You know, we should really get to the grocery store, and I did say I'd vacuum."

You shake your head. "Nope. You're going to sit here all weekend and watch TV or read. No chores and no errands."

"I get antsy when I have to sit around." He complains, throwing his head back against the cushion.

"I know." You agree with a laugh. "I guess, I just have to find a way to help you relax." You say suggestively, reaching down to touch his pants.

Spencer's head and eyes snap to you, focusing on what you're saying with excited interest. "Yeah, how will you do that? I mean, I'm bored."

You continue to palm his pants as he grows harder, making him groan a little. "Well, I'm quite entertaining, aren't I?" You ask with a smile.

"Going to put on a show for me, darling?" He asks with a grin.

You nod, slipping down onto the rug-covered hardwood floor. He's already got his injured leg elevated, and he moves his other thigh apart so you can get between them. He rests his palm on your cheek, thumb stroking over your cheekbone as you get him worked up over the top of his pants.

"Need more." He grovels, still fidgeting. "Please."

"Since you asked so nicely." You agree, unzipping his pants and pulling them down as far as you can without him having to move. You take him out of his boxers, pumping over his length. "So pretty, Spence." You trace over his head, mesmerized by smearing his pre-cum around.

In the interest of not making him wait too long and become whiney, you take him into your mouth, tongue tracing each popping vein. You continue to take him further down your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He moans, threading his fingers through your hair and scooping it up into a ponytail.

You smirk, holding eye contact as you sink your head completely down, fitting his full length down your throat. It's not an easy task by any means, but you're well-practiced.

You trace the underside of his cock with your tongue, earning a plethora of moans from his lips. It's easily your favorite sound in the world.

He keeps his beautiful lips parted while you keep yours moving along him, gagging lightly each time he hits the back of your throat in a way you know he loves. You move your hand to cup his balls, something that drives him even closer to the edge.

"Shit." He groans, rutting his hips up into your face. There's no rhythm, and you know it's a clear warning sign he's about to cum. "G-gonna cum."

You wink up at him while swirling your tongue over his tip, and it's enough to have him bursting in your mouth, balls tightening. He lays there blissed out, head against the cushion with a smile on his face.

"That's all I had to do to stop your bitching?" You joke, getting up with the help of the hand he offered you.

"Yeah, and it'll work every time." He agrees, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss you. He's never been afraid to taste his own cum in your mouth, always willing to kiss you. "Also." He trails off slightly, and you know the next thing that comes out of his mouth is going to be cheeky. "You need to call Hotch and explain what you just did. I'm technically not allowed to have sex for another two weeks."

You punch him in the shoulder. "You're such a dick. If I have to call our boss to tell him you've had oral sex, I'm saying to was with someone else."

Spencer scoffs. "He'd never believe that."

"True." You agree. "He knows you're obsessed with me."

"And your lips and tongue." He adds on.

[miamochi-writes]

Treading Carefully

a/n: Hi everyone! This was a request from one of my friends who also loves Vash! Let me know what you think :) 

You were a mercenary just living day by day to get by. You learned how cruel it was to live and survive in No Man’s Land when the cops robbed your family of their basic necessities. In order to help out, you traveled to each city hoping to raid or steal a couple of supplies from people who were well off. Because of that, you racked up a high bounty on your head from previous cities you’ve visited. Thankfully, you weren’t on the bounty list yet. 

You ended up in Jeneora where the heat was brutal and slowed you down to your destination as you were slightly dragging your black combat boots. You got a tip from someone that the next town over had some homes that the rich weren’t occupying at the moment. You might as well raid it if no one was there right?  You could tell Jeneora was suffering just from looking at the water they offered you with your beer. From the way you walked in everyone was looking at you. 

You didn’t blame them since you dressed pretty differently in your forest green and white jacket that trailed down your thighs that hid your dark attire. You looked at the bartender and even she was pregnant and running the place herself. You looked at some of the kids and pitied them, no kid should have to struggle like this.

“So what brings someone like you here?” the bartender asked.

“Just doing some sightseeing before I see my family. I would have continued, but this heat is insane,” you replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but you couldn’t give away too much info.

“Yeah, that’s Jeneora for you. Sorry about the water. Our plant is busted somehow, so we’re stuck trying to buy water at the next town over,” she apologized as she cleaned some of the glasses.

You felt for her as you took a sip of your beer. 

“How far along are you?” you asked looking at her swollen abdomen.

“Just a few more months until the baby arrives,” she replied rubbing her belly.

You thought about it and figured you might as well get some extra items once you make it to the next city.

Just then you heard a couple of men yelling from outside and sounded like it was coming closer. Three cops busted into the bar as you sighed. So much for the peace and quiet.

“Anyone seen the Humanoid Typhoon? If so start talking!” one of the guys shouted as the other guy held up a Wanted poster. You heard about Vash the Stampede and the rumors about him causing chaos in cities. You’ve seen that poster before, but honestly something felt off about it. You couldn’t place your finger on it, but as long as he didn’t get in your way you didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Hey lady!” you heard someone shout by your ear.

You rolled your eyes before you turned around to see the cop was standing next to you with the wanted poster.

“Yes officer?” you asked.

“Have you seen him or not?” he asked.

“Hm maybe buy me a drink first and I might answer,” you replied getting closer to him as you put your hand on top of his hand that held the poster so he lowered it. That slightly caught him off guard as you made your next move.

“After all, someone as hard working as you must be tired after searching high and low in this hot weather. Why don’t you relax?” you added as you moved your hand to his back to move him closer to you. The guy was practically caught off guard as you took the chance to pick pocket him.

“You drive a hard bargain young lady,” he commented as you felt some double dollars in his pocket.

“Hey! Get a move on officer!” one of the men yelled as you retracted your hand.

“Maybe next time, but since you’re interested I might have seen him outside the city limit in the desert not too long ago. Saw that hairstyle and can’t mistake it,” you answered with a small smirk.

“Boss! We got a lead!” the guy said as he went back to the group and left.

You turned around to see the bartender looking at you with wide eyes.

“I honestly don’t know, I just made it up on the fly,” you told her as you finished your beer. You then flashed her some money that you stole from the officer.

“Courtesy of the loud mouth himself. Hopefully this helps with the water issue,” you mentioned as you took your leave.

Once you stepped out from the bar, you bumped into someone as you landed on the ground from the impact.

“Hey are you okay? I didn’t see you there!” you heard a panicked voice. You were annoyed with how your day was going, first a cop and now you got knocked to the ground without seeing it coming? You looked to see it was the wanted man himself. You couldn’t mistake that face anywhere , except you noticed how vibrant his blue eyes were even with his orange spectacles. He was tall as he loomed over you with his figure and his bright red jacket. You knew he was good looking, but the wanted poster didn’t do him justice when you were looking at him in person. He was way too beautiful to be a criminal.

He extended his prosthetic hand to you for grab as you looked at him. You grabbed his hand and felt how warm it was as he lifted you up.

“Are you hurt? Any bruises? Scratches?” he asked looking you up and down.  You dusted yourself off and checked your arms.

“No I’m okay, but watch where you’re going next time. You might bump into the wrong person,” you warned still keeping your guard up.

“Ahaha sorry about that. I was in a bit of hurry. But I’m glad you’re okay! The name is Vash,” he introduced himself with a smile. This guy was way too kind, and he seemed genuine when asking you those questions. Was he really that bad of a criminal? You were a bit hesitant to answer but you trusted your gut.

“The name is y/n, but it’s best you keep that information to yourself,” you replied. He gave you a confused look with his eye furrowing.

“I’ve got my reasons, but just a heads up. Some cops came by earlier here looking for you. I told them you went outside the city limits so best to stay away from that direction and hang low,” you told him as you put your hands in your pocket as you walked past him.

“Wait really? Thanks a bunch! I appreciate it y/n! I owe you!” he replied walking up to you with his face close to yours. You were startled by him and took a few steps back as your heart started racing.

“Oh, sorry about that! Force of habit,” he apologized as he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. What an interesting guy.

“It’s nothing, but if you really want to treat me, do it the next time we meet,” you said half jokingly as you started walking away from him.

“Oh why not now?” he asked.

“I have some business I need to take care of outside of here. Can’t be late if I stay here any longer,” you mentioned as you looked back at him.

“Okay, well next I see you, dinner is on me!” he yelled while waving. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“What makes you think we’ll meet again?” you ask.

“It’s a gut feeling!” he answered with a warm smile. You waved back and made your way to the next town over. There was no way he was worth that much or causes that much trouble with how much of goofball he was from that interaction you had. As you walked, you kept thinking about him and wondering if you would ever meet again.

~*~

You made it to the next city and found a few of the homes you targeted by nightfall with the help of a Thomas. You slipped into two homes and stole the necessities for your family, for some people at Jeneora, and a little for yourself. You were about to raid a third house until you heard the cops were nearby. You high tailed it out of the city making sure you weren’t being followed. You rode your Thomas to the desert and hid near one of the dunes despite the cold. You couldn’t risk staying in the city with how much stuff you took and with how you stood out from the crowd in your outerwear. You laid low and took a few detours just to be sure you were in the clear and that no one was tracking you. 

Eventually you were able to see the outskirts of Jeneora as dawn broke. Finally some civilization and a place to rest instead of the endless sand. You placed your Thomas at a resting station, and made your way into the inner heart of the town.

“Hey! Have you seen this lady? She was in this city last time we saw her,” you heard someone call out. You looked to see the same group of officers interrogating the townspeople.

“She stole from the law and she’s wanted alive. If you know anything there’s a nice reward waiting for you,” the officer continued as the townsfolk studied the paper.

You cursed internally as you quietly jogged to some of the homes. You hoped to stay hidden long enough for them to leave. You could tell that they were searching and questioning everybody in the town. You kept running until you made eye contact with one of the city men. You were so screwed, you couldn’t take any chances as you ran as fast as possible. This was not how you wanted to go down as you looked for other hiding spots. Your mind was racing, how could you have been this sloppy with your work? As you ran, you felt someone grab your hand as you panicked.

“No! Let me-” before you could finish you were pulled inside a building and found your mouth being covered. You looked to see Vash was covering your mouth and gestured you to keep quiet as he peaked outside. You were so confused, you didn’t think this was how you meet with him again. You looked inside to see you were in the bar and found the bartender stepping outside not looking at both of you. Your heart was practically beating against your chest as you felt Vash pull you to his side while he kept your mouth covered. You squirmed, but Vash kept you in his hold as you were panicking internally. You didn’t know what was going to happen to you as you felt so helpless.

“Officer! I saw her ride a Thomas that way. You better hurry before you lose her again,” the bartender said as you heard the officers run away from the bar. Then, it was silent until you heard footsteps walk back into the bar. It was the lady as she smiled at you both.

“Coast is clear, we sent a pack of Thomas the other direction so they should be following that for awhile,” she told you as Vash let go of you with a sigh of relief. Your eyes widened as you slid down to the floor. Your breath was ragged, your mind was spinning, and your legs felt numb from the adrenaline. What in the world just happened? You thought

“Hey! Are you okay? Follow my breathing,” Vash asked as he grabbed both of your shoulders. He then started breathing slowly as you followed him with his inhales and exhales.

“Why did you help me? I'm a wanted criminal,” you finally spoke looking at him.

“You helped me remember? And you helped Rosa last time you were here,” Vash pointed as she came up to you.

“Anyone that’s a friend of Vash is a friend of mine that I can trust. Plus, that money helped with the water. We heard the commotion earlier, and Vash and I wanted to repay the favor,” she explained with a soft smile.

You looked at Vash as he was smiling at you.

“Can you stand?” he asked as you shook your head.

“I’m a little out of breath from running and everything else,” you explained as he grabbed your waist while you held onto his shoulder for support. He then led you to a table with a couple of seats for you to sit in. He gently sat you down as you thanked him.

“Well aren’t you both lifesavers, I really thought it was the end for me. I guess we’re even now,” you explained with a sigh of relief.

“Not exactly, I still gotta treat you to dinner, remember?” Vash mentioned.

“You still remember that? I was kinda joking about the whole owing me,” You asked and looked at him a bit taken a back. 

“Well I meant what I said. I would treat you the next time I see you. I saw you earlier, and here we are,” Vash explained as he flashed you that toothy smile of his.

You stifled a chuckle as you looked away slightly.

“Okay then, a deal is a deal. Besides how can I turn down that offer when you saved me in a pinch,” you said and scooted closer to him.

“Great, because I’d like to know more about the person who helped me out earlier,” Vash said as he got comfortable to look at you.

“Good because I’d like to know more about the real Vash, not what the cops or rumors say about you,” you replied feeling safe around him

You didn’t think helping the most wanted man would lead to this, but now you were especially grateful to have bumped into him and earn a tasty meal out of it. You could afford to take a little detour before returning home anyway if it meant spending time with someone cute right?

[professional-benaddict]

I'm back on my MoB kick and all I can think about is

Tony and Stephen either married/partners/friendenmies

Tony gets hurt

Stephen wants to take care of him, but his job is a surgeon. After care is someone else's job. But Tony deserves the best.

Enter at home Nurse Peter Parker. [ Stephen pulled strings to get him]

Who may or may not know who Tony is or atleast his connection to the mob.

- WinterSpiderPurrs

@winterspiderpurrs YOU BRILLIANT THING AHHHH💗💗💗 i literally cannot remember the last time i wrote smth bUt here i am with this!! i’d be so flattered if you continued it and maybe i can continue your piece?🥴🥴💗💗

Mafia boss Tony, surgeon Stephen, Tony and Stephen are married, nurse Peter, mentions of gun violence

Peter has never been headhunted for a job before. It made him feel important and special among the thousands of nurses who are more qualified and experienced than him. They didn’t get the job offer, he did. There must be someone who finally sees value in Peter’s skills, and the young nurse has to take the rare chance offered to him.

However, he may have jumped into this too soon, because now he is stood across the street from the address he was given and the house looks intimidating.

The house is practically a mansion, and an old one at that. But, the house seems resilient and well kept. The lush garden must look beautiful in daylight, but now in the October moonlight it looks haunted. There is a large black metal gate in front of the house and black shapes move back and forth with confident footfalls.

“What the fuck…” Peter whispers to himself. He checks the address again, and again. It is the right one and he is in the right place. The number of the house and street is correct. “Here goes nothing…”

Peter walks up to the gate, and he is about to say something awkward to one of the men guarding the gate, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Mr Parker?”

“Uhm- yes. Yes, that’s me.” Peter squeaks.

The guard says nothing, but he makes a gesture with his hand and a built in door opens up from the gate. Peter steps inside and follows one of the guards up to the house.

The house is well-lit and warm when Peter steps inside. There are lush carpets and expensive furniture in the entrance hall, which hints to even more richness inside the rest of the house.

The guard wipes his shoes, but keeps them on, so Peter does the same. The guard says nothing still, but he turns back to look at Peter while he wipes his shoes and waits for him to catch up before walking on.

They head upstairs and make a turn around a corner before the guard gestures for Peter to wait. The man knocks on one of the doors and steps inside before closing the door. Only now does Peter notice how quick his heart is beating in his chest. His limbs feel jelly-like, and he takes this small moment of alone time to calm himself.

“You’re okay, you’re okay…” Peter mouths to himself.

The door opens again, but another man steps out and Peter snaps his head up. Finally, a familiar face.

“Doctor Strange!” Peter breathes out in relief. He hopes it is not too obvious, and that the doctor doesn’t notice how shaky Peter’s hand is in their handshake.

“Peter, thank you for coming. I know I didn’t tell you a lot about this assignment, but all will be revealed soon. You can ask any question you’d like.” The doctor says and leads Peter down to the next door and opens it.

It is an office and Stephen heads to the desk to look through some papers. The doctor returns quickly though with a paper for Peter and a pen.

“So, this is how you live…?” Peter asks before taking the paper. An NDA.

“Some of the time, yeah.” Stephen answers shortly. “I’d like you to sign this before I tell you anything about the assignment. You can quit whenever you like, but you-”

“Cannot talk about it, got it.” Peter chuckles and Stephen gives in a smile. The doctor gestures for Peter to use the desk to sign and the young nurse does so.

“Great! Now that’s settled.” Stephen says after checking the signature and leaving the paper on the desk. They head out into the hallway again. “I’ll show you your patient now.”

Stephen opens the door he came out from before and lets Peter step inside the room. It is a bedroom and a king-sized bed takes up most of the space. And on the bed, is a man, fast asleep. Peter cannot see him well from where he is standing, but he sees some dark hair and facial hair. The room looks quite ordinary, although much classier than Peter could ever afford with a nurse’s pay. However, the medical equipment and machines in the room stand out.

Peter recognises all of them, of course. All the tubes and wires connected to the sleep man on the bed. And based on them, he deduces that the man should be in hospital, not at home.

“Who is he?” Peter asks.

“Tony Stark. Your patient, and my husband.” Stephen answers.

Something about Stephen’s tone of voice makes Peter feel uneasy.

“What happened?”

“He was shot in the abdomen. Stupid.” Stephen says the last part through slightly gritted teeth.

“When? Who treated him? He needs to be in hospital still, surely.” Peter says in disbelief.

“I did.”

Peter takes a step from the doctor. The guards, the NDA, gunshot wounds, treated by family… The headhunting. It all starts to make sense.

“He can’t go to the hospital.” Peter says quietly. Or else, the police will find out…

“No.” Stephen says simply. “But, he won’t need to when he has you taking care of him. I cannot be here all the time, plus, I’m a surgeon. I’ve done what I can.” The doctor steps closer to Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Now I need your help, and you will need the money. Trust me, I know. So, you will take the job, yes?”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He lets out a breath and then opens his eyes.

He nods.

“I’ll take the job.”