#someone correct me on that last tag if I’m wrong

[ineedahugtm]

Has anyone ever thought about how Christmas Day is like the universal pajama day for adults?? Like kids have pajama day at school and stuff but Christmas is like the one day that all adults join in on the all day pajama day tradition

[aromanthur-lester]

A dream I had at the beginning of the year.

[ravengards-rogue]

bright as the morning, soft as the rain

sebastian (stardew valley) x reader

✧ tags : gender neutral reader, canon divergence, a lot of author liberties, alcohol, fluffy, pre-relationship, mildly suggestive but sooo mildly lol.

✧ wc : 3.4k (this is ridiculous lol)

✧ a/n : the thing to get me out of my writing slump being sdv fanfiction is hilarious.

hi! this is the first part to a silly little alternative first kiss series i have planned for the stardew romanceable characters. i think the other ones will be shorter (hopefully but lol).

i will link the rest of them as they get posted. i hope u like. rbs appreciated. also tagging @antique-remains (hi this is fang on my side blog lol)

✧ synopsis : sebastian wants to do anything but think of you. he's failing miserably on that front. sam and abigail are not helping.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

“Earth to Sebastian,” Sam snaps his fingers in front of Sebastian’s face. Sebastian jumps in his skin. “What’s with you today? If you’re not gonna take our pool playing tradition seriously, I’m not playing.”  

He swipes a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. Half-empty Joja-Cola can sits directly besides his pool stick, the faint air of smoke and liquor in the air. Right. He’s here to play pool.  

 He pinches the bridge of his nose with exasperation, shaking off the feeling before scratching the back of his neck.  

“No, sorry. I wanna play, just…give me a sec.”  

“Got something on your mind Seb?”  Abigail prods, unfortunately intuitive. Sebastian scowls at her. She stands to her feet to get closer, sitting on the edge of the pool table with her cheek turned just enough to look at him. Her smile is coy. “A certain someone, maybe?”  

His scowl deepens, lip curled in distaste. “No. Move. You’re in my way.”  

“You’re a bad liar.” Abigail says with a resigned sigh, arms crossed. “You weren’t this spacey last time you dated someone. ”  

“Fuck off,” Sebastian sighs. “It’s not like that yet.”  

Abigail grins before Sebastian can  correct the slip up. “Yet. Yet, he says.” 

Sebastian feels himself blush. “Ugh.” 

He sighs as he stands back up, leaning against his pool stick. Sam stops whatever he was doing (messing with the pool table deliberately, Sebastian assumes), taking newfound interest in the conversation.  

“Oh, you two talking about our new neighbor?” 

“Not really new. It’s been like… what a year or two almost?” Abigail adds. Sam shrugs.  

“That’s true. But it feels new to me anyway.” Sam says. He gives up on pool it seems like, abandoning his stick on the table in favor of navigating to the box pizza balancing on another table nearby and his drink. Sebastian watches him shimmy a slice of the pie, not bothering to blow on it as he eats. “Oh is that why your heads in the clouds? Figures.”  

“I didn’t say that. Abigail said that.”  

“And you’re saying she’s wrong?”  

Sebastian huffs. “…Yes.”  

Sam laughs good-naturedly. “Pfft. Uh-huh, yeah. I super believe you.”  

“Fuck you both.” 

“Come on, Seb. It’s not like everyone in town doesn’t know.”  

Sebastian’s frown deepens. “Not everyone.”  

Sam seats himself on the couch again and Abigail joins him. It creaks under the weight of them as they get comfortable together. Sebastian stays where he is, sitting on the tables edge with a drink in his hand and an itch for a cigarette.  

Sam counts on his fingers. “Your mom knows. My mom knows. Abby’s mom knows. If they all know then our dads definitely also know. Who else does that leave? Our towns tiny dude. Like I’d say Elliot doesn’t, but he’s here on Friday’s and he catches up with gossip all the time. So basically everyone.”  

“…Shit.”  

“See? Told you.”  

Sebastian doesn’t need everyone to know what’s going on between you. He doesn’t even know what’s going on between you. It’s taken him longer than he cares to admit to even acknowledge that there was something there. And he didn’t know it was mutual until recently when Abigail came dropped by to tell him she overheard her dad explaining old Pelican Town traditions on dating and romance. 

(Abigail always describes things in excruciating detail, adding all the bells and whistles. This makes her great to play the Solarion Chronicles with.  

It also makes her  good at artfully recounting interactions. He can easily picture you the way she said she saw you, overalls  half unbuttoned, dirt covered and leaning over the counter just slightly giving Pierre your rapt attention.   

The thought of it is enough to trigger some sense of affection he’s never entirely felt before.)  

It’s not like Sebastian is against the idea of dating you, it’s just— 

“I think you should go out with them Seb. I like ‘em a lot more than your exes.”  

Sebastian sighs. “You guys know why I’m on the fence.”  

Sam shrugs. “Does they even count though? They’re not actually from here. They live here sure but they didn’t grow up here.”  

“Right? That’s what I think too. Might as well go for it.” Abigail shrugs, glancing at Sebastian. “I really don’t get why you’re hesitating. Something else has to bugging you.”  

“I thought that too.” Sam adds. 

A faint blush creeps up his neck. He loves his friends and sometimes, he appreciates how well they know him. Times like this, he thinks it wouldn’t kill them to be a little less perceptive.  

They’re not wrong. It is something of a flimsy excuse to try not to think about you. Sebastian has always had a not dating policy about people he grew up with. He nearly dated Abigail in highschool and it was a shitshow. So he’s vowed to never do it again.  

But that’s not the real reason he’s been rejecting the possibility in his head. He uses it more for himself than anyone else. It’s not like he can give them the real answer because he thinks it’s one hundred times more embarrassing.  

How the fuck is he meant to tell them the reason he keeps hesitating to define your relationship is because he feels like he likes you too much?  

That’s the real reason he’s going in circles about it. It’s so cringe it makes him want to break out in hives but well, it is true. Sebastian likes you—like really fucking likes you—and it’s freaking him out because he thinks it’s the first time he’s really liked anyone.  

Dating has never been all that fun for Sebastian. It wasn’t something that felt meaningful. He dated mostly in college and only one of those relationships lasted a significant amount of time. And even then the relationship was never all that genuine. They ultimately broke up because Sebastian realized they were fundamentally incompatible. As bad as it sounds, there wasn’t a real sense of attachment there, not once. It was just convenient for both of them. He realized at that point he should probably just focus on himself.  

That was about when he moved back home to the valley to live with his family in his post graduation.  

And he had honestly expected it to be another few mundane years, akin to his early adolescence. He was so sure that he would spend it with the same restless feeling in his stomach, the same longing to be somewhere else. If he could never feel any belonging, at least he wanted to be somewhere he could blend in. He thought for sure moving back to Pelican Town was going to be nothing but dreadful and boring and existential. That he would come back and remember why he wanted to leave in the first place.  

Until one day, someone from the city moved into the old, overgrown farm and turned the entirety of the valley upside down.  

When you met for the first time, Sebastian honestly didn’t care. Nothing goes on in Pelican Town, so he figured you’d be the main subject of gossip for a few weeks before ultimately blending into the background of his life just like everyone else. He also didn’t think you’d last long living here. You were part of the corporate rat race he so detests and you didn’t grow up in the valley. It’s a hard place to get used to after living somewhere more populated.  

Against all odds  though - you did stay. And you’ve integrated yourself so much with the people living—himself included here it kind of baffles him. He doesn’t entirely remember what it was like before you came here.   

Sebastian couldn’t have predicted in a million years that that stupid help wanted sign in front of Pierre’s store would start actually being useful. But lo and behold, at least three times a week he finds you with full pockets - jogging after whomever last posted to give them what they need. And you do that without anyone really asking you too.  

You’re just so… helpful. And social in a way he can’t describe. Everyone in town has nothing but nice things to say about you. You’ve given everyone a gift on their birthday thus far. You’re keeping the entire economy afloat with your farm right now and you regularly clear those mines out for monsters. You even paid for the bus to get repaired, too - so now it’s up and running again.  

You’re full of surprises. And easy to adore, himself included.  

What surprises him most often is how easy it is for him to be around you. He doesn’t turn you away even when you visit his room sharply at 9am and hover over him in bed. He doesn’t get even the slightest bit upset when you have a mundane and disruptive conversation hours before he usually gets up. He keeps everything you’ve ever gifted him, and he often thinks of inviting you to things he does with his friends. He smiles when he sees you running around doing some chore, frantic and covered in muck - all mess and sunlight.  

You’re… nice. Honest, hard-working, and cheerful. Kind. Sincere in wanting to know him. You should completely and utterly exhaust him given those are your main characteristics. You should be someone he’s simply fundamentally incompatible with. 

But more than anything, you’re thoughtful. And it disarms him so utterly he feels overwhelmed by the thought. From the start, you put in a lot of effort into maintaining connections and he was no different. It’s just impacted him so much more than he thought it would. If he lets himself think too far on it, he really won’t stop thinking about you.  

To the point he’s been picturing what it’s like to live on the farm.  He’s in deep. 

Despite all of your idiosyncrasies, you really seem to give a shit about things in a way that feels utterly foreign to him. This extends to anything and everything. It extends to Sebastian, and it shows in the ways you don’t undermine him. Little things. You take his work seriously and apologize for disturbing him, you don’t immediately take the side of his family when he talks about them despite being friends with them too, you don’t interrogate him about what he is or is not comfortable with. You show up and linger in his life, and then you go off to your own thing. 

More and more, he gets the urge to stop you before you go. It’s too much. It makes him act…lame and he’s not too fond of it. He’s never really felt this strongly about anyone before and he’s a little bit of a wreck about what it does to him. So it’s not that he doesn’t want to date you, but more that he does so bad he doesn’t even want to admit it.  

 But well.. He isn’t sure it’s even working. As soon as you walk into a room it’s like— 

He’s lost in his thoughts for a while, only to get pulled out of them by some big commotion happening in the main part of the saloon.  

“Ah, you’re here. What perfect timing kid,”   

Shit. Shit  

Only somewhat obscured by the distance and wall separating their space from the bar - Sebastian catches a glimpse of you and feels something uncomfortably warm in his chest. His friends both make little oooh sounds, no doubt planning to do something stupid. He should intervene but he gets too caught up in pretending he doesn’t see you. Turning away stiffly, he pretends to be looking at something else while he listens on your conversation. It’s not too hard to hear, anyway.  

“Hi, Pam.” He can practically hear the smile in your voice. “Here’s your ale. Managed to grow a hops plant indoors this season so the brew is pretty fresh. It’s strong, fair warning.”  

A beat of muffle conversations follows up with a a loud sigh. “That’s exactly what I needed. Your pretty good with your liquor and spirits, huh kid? Thanks for the drink. Here’s what I owe ya.”  

“Selling alcohol under the table at my establishment? Tsk tsk.” Gus adds.  

It’s at this point Sebastian lets himself look at you properly. You lean with your elbows against the counter. You look a mess like usual, but you’ve got on a cowboy hat today that Sebastian finds ridiculously cute. You smile at Gus sheepishly.  

“Sorry. Can I buy myself a drink to make up for it?” You offer.  

“I’ll do you one better and give it to you on the house.”  

“Aw, what? Can’t let you do that Gus.”  

“You can and you will. You’re always looking out for everyone. Here, it’s a nice imported IPA. Nice and cold. Have a drink and go relax. Some of your friends are here too tonight I think.”  

“Oh?”  

On cue, you turn your head to the group of them. When you and Sebastian meet eyes, you brighten visbly - all smiles. He’s so caught up in it, he doesn’t even catch Sam next to him until he throw an arm around his shoulder and waves you over.  

You weave through the tables until you cross the threshold of their little hide-out. Abigail greets you first with a short sidehug before you go over to him and Sam.  

“Hey,”  

“Hi Sam.” You pause, tilting your head. “Did you cut your hair? It’s shorter than usual.”  

Sam beams. “I did! And you’re the first one to notice, other than my mom. Goes to show who my real friends are,”  

Sebastian nudges him, pulling away from his grip. “I see enough of your face everyday. There’s nothing for me to observe.”  

“It looks nice,” You add. Charming and genuine. Sam smiles at you. 

“Thanks,”  

Sebastian is weirdly jealous until you address him in conversation. “Hey to you too Sebastian.”  

His heart thumps. This is ridiculous. He swallows. “Hey. Uh. How have you been?”  

Awkward. So awkward. You smile a little and lean on the pool table besides him with your drink, taking a sip. “Good. Busy as usually getting ready for Winter. Renovated our coop recently so I’ve got a whole bunch of baby bunnies I gotta take care of. Went and bought another heater, some extra hay. Just farm stuff. Not very interesting,”  

“I find it interesting,” He replies quickly. You lip twitches in a smile.  

“I’m glad.”  

“Baby bunnies sound so cute,” Abigail adds. Sebastian glances at her as she joins the rest of them. “What else have you got in there?”  

“A little of everything. Chickens, ducks. I’ve got a void chicken too, kinda freaky. Oh and these little dino looking guys.”  

Abigail looks bright eyed. “Would it be like… weird if I asked to go over? I kinda wanna see them?”  

You laugh. “Not at all. I don’t mind. You could honestly go over whenever but it’s hard to navigate the farm if I’m not there, though I’m trying to fix that this upcoming winter.”  

You glance then at Sebastian, eyes almost sparkling. “You should come over sometime, too. You’d like the void chicken I think. And I’ve got a slime hutch.”  

Sebastian sputters at the obvious invitation only barely managing to cover up the shock to his system. You don’t seem put off, but it’s obvious you know what you’re doing. He’s going to explode.  

Abigail and Sam make not-so-subtle eye contact before Sam clears his throat.  

“Well, uh, me and Abi are gonna head out. We’ve got some stuff to catch up on, but there’s still a few hours until the saloon closes so you two should stay here and finish up  our drinks and stuff. Uh… yeah. See you again,”  

Sam nods, quickly rifling for his things. Abigail follows in his foot steps.  

“Mhm, yep. See you,”  

Sam gives him one last encouraging look before turning around and leaving. The two of them scurry off in a blink of an eye, before Sebastian can get a single word in about the situation or tell them to stay. And now he’s alone with you, quietly wondering if it’s as awkward as it feels.  

You’re the one to break the ice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”  

Sebastian blinks. “Uh no. Not really.”  

“Me either. We should stay back then, for a little while.” You offer with a shrug. “Why not, right?”  

Right. Sebastian is being really chill about this entire interaction. “Right.”  

“I’m glad I got to see you tonight,” You say, out of the blue. Sebastian nearly jumps in his skin at the admission. “I’ve been pretty busy with the growing season ending so I haven’t been you know, able to come by as often. I don’t know if it made a huge difference to you but—“ 

“It did.” He blurts out. Your mouth opens then closes again, a blush crawling up his neck as he tucks his chin in embarrassment. “It was uh, weird for me. I know you’re busy and I like my alone time but I did… miss you.” 

“Yeah?”  

He’s almost too afraid to meet your eyes. When he manages  - you’re smiling fondly, sweetly with a sense of amusement. It rolls off of you in waves and it becomes clear to him in that split second that you don’t really intend to hide how you feel despite him being so hellbent on making sure he does. You’re not hiding that you like him. It feels stupidly warm and fuzzy.  

You look like you’ve been working all day and you smell a little like grass and rain in a way that makes him want to draw that much closer to you. So he does, leaving into your space.  

“Yeah.” He manages, barely getting the words out without being a complete wreck. “It’s new for me.”  

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever they say.” And then, even more sweetly. “I missed you too.”  

Fuck. You’re… fuck.  

Sebastian pretends to wipe something from his face just to cover it and make his blush less obvious. This is embarrassing. He likes you so much and for what.  

There’s a million things he wants to tell you but he can’t find the words for any of them. So he tucks in on himself and wonders how the fuck he would ever go about actually dating you.  

You inch closer to him. Tentative, until your thighs are touching. He doesn’t move away.  

Suddenly, you’re close to him than you’ve ever been. Looking from the corner of your eye, Sebastian turns his head to meet your gaze. You’re an inch apart, and he’s looking at your lips - slightly chapped from the weather. The faint scent of alcohol on your breath makes him dizzy. Your smile is what does him in ultimately. A subtle tug at the corners of your mouth, a little teeth. Something about it precious.  

“Hey,” You mutter.  

“Hm,”  

“Can I kiss you?” 

He responds with leaning forward to do it first. It’s chaste and easy, and he does it because you’ve already taken so many first steps and he should, at least, take this one. So he leans into kiss you and it feels like his whole body is melting. It’s brief and light and he pulls away before it feels like it should be over.  

You part for a breath, a single heartbeat - before your hands go up to cradle the side of his face. You kiss him deeper that time. A real kiss where he can taste you enough to know that you drank - one he would only want to do in the privacy of this confined spaced. He feels you in your entirety  - returns your gesture with a careful hand on your waist that you don’t pull away from.  

And it doesn’t stop. Like neither of you want it too, despite everything else. Despite the fact he’s doing this in the bar of his hometown where everyone will gossip about it without doubt, and despite knowing that  - the drive to kiss you is stronger than his usual sensibilities. So you kiss and kiss and kiss, short presses followed by long, firm ones. A slight brush of tongue, the soft nip of teeth as you tease and tug. All mirth and amusement and fondness and bravery and god he is so into you it’s ridiculous.  

You manage to pull away from each other after a while. His lips are tingly. And there’s a sheepishness to you both that makes it hard for him to look your way.  

“Hey, Sebastian.”  

He clears his throat.  

“Uh. Yeah?”  

“I’m gonna ask you out tomorrow. Properly.”  

He blushes. “…I’d be cool with that.”  

You grin. “Yeah?”   

Shit he’s happy. He is not gonna get a lick of sleep tonight. He smiles a little to himself.  

“Yeah.”  

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[amywritesthings]

chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade. 

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know. 

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground. 

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers. 

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

Good. 

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

[satzumosupremacy]

Nothing More, Nothing Less

Male reader x Yujin

4k Words

Tags: Smut, Cheating

Yujin always calls you during her boyfriend’s business trip, and it’s always every three months—secrecy at its finest. A pattern that you learned as Yujin kept coming over after a year of meeting her.

You got someone’s daughter, another man’s girlfriend, all under the sheets, screaming your name so desperately and erotically in your bed—no guilt, no shame. Although you never planned to keep having her, the adrenaline and thrills of another man’s woman in your bed were like no other feelings. She’s just what you want and need.

Speaking of which, a relationship with her would end in tragedy—assumingly or not, but the same way she’s cheating with you could be the same with another man. It’s only assumptions. Neither of you knows the future or what it holds.

Day three is the best, and it’s mostly every time. Yujin only had another day to recover after her legs became weak. Rarely, it sometimes becomes so passionate to the point that feelings and romance can spark dangerously. The whole house becomes a mess with clothes all over the floor, misplaced pillows, and unfinished drinks. During the night, the lights would be all off with just you and Yujin fucking in the dark. Bodies did all the talking.

The only thing you knew about her was that she just wanted to fuck—day and night. Of course, there will be breaks in between. There aren’t such things as genuine feelings of love, apart from just being together under the same roof naked. Yujin never wears a bra, knowing it’s going to be off either way, and you love seeing her nipples poking out her shirt. 

“I love the way you touch and fuck me.”

The wholehearted confession she made as you spent time on the bed naked with her. Assumingly, you know her boyfriend doesn’t satisfy her, and it was a pity. Yujin needed more than just vanilla. She deserves more for the beauty that she is.

In fact, she’s good at using her mouth, apart from the dirty talking. Those very eyes of hers are always desperate and hungry for more. It’s surprising how you got a beautiful woman in bed without her boyfriend knowing. You’re keeping her secretly fucking and cumming anywhere she wants. Sex with her always leads to a hot mess most of the time and all tired after, lasting hours, and sometimes before the sun has risen. There’s no such thing as a quickie.

Mostly every time, but not always, you would act like her boyfriend out in public or even inside the house. It’s always natural with Yujin—maybe that’s what went wrong when she’s smiling with you more and keeps coming over during her boyfriend's trip. 

——

It’s been around three months since you kept track; you patiently waited, knowing she’s going to text. Speaking of the devil, you received a text, and it was from her.

Yujin: I’m coming over

She knew what days you were busy or not. You waited for Yujin, but it didn’t take long until she showed up at your door again, knocking shamelessly with no guilt.

“You look beautiful today,” you said with a gentle tone.

“I have three days to be with you. Give it to me.”

“Yujin,” you paused in silence while she looked at you.

“Yes?”

“You want something to eat first?” Fucking Yujin isn’t the only thing you wanted, but treat her with respect—the beautiful woman she is. She’s a human being at the end of the day.

“Give me a taste, and then we can go out for something.” You know her after all the secret rendezvous. If Yujin wanted something, she’s going to do whatever it takes, and she’s already digging under your pants with a smile so wicked and mischievous. 

“You look nice in those clothes, Yujin.”

“My boyfriend bought them. And you’re taking them off one by one.”

“Yujin that’s…” You tilt your head, somehow wondering how wrong it was, yet the sensation feels undeniably correct as her warm hands tease your cock.

Just when you believed you had witnessed the wild side of her, she never fails to leave you speechless. As the days unfold, everything else doesn't matter—she'll be in your bed, completely naked with her panties stained with your cum.

“Shh. No one knows what we have between us, Daddy.”

“Lay your head on the couch, ass on the floor,” you commanded. She loves it when you’re in control.

“As you wish, Daddy.” With a smile and a slow blink, Yujin's so beautiful that you can do anything to her. She’s in your very hands and arms at night. Yujin lays her head on the cushion of the couch while her body is slanted on the ground with her legs spread and her ass being the only thing that’s keeping her positioned. She gladly opens her mouth wide—tongue out. You shove your cock in her mouth slowly until it disappears, keeping it deep into her throat with small, quiet chokes from Yujin. 

“Good girl.” You can tell she’s smirking from the corner of her mouth just from being called that. “You look so beautiful with my cock in."

No words were exchanged as you increased the pace of your thrusts. She gasps, chokes, and her eyes shut tightly under the intensity. Gently brushing her hair behind her ears, you enjoy the view of Yujin.

Pinning her down isn’t the only thing you love. Bending Yujin to a table, countertop, bed, wall, or even standing is what you also love. You have all the control while she freely moans and groans. It’s the same for Yujin—she loves to fuck you in the most narcissistic way for her pleasure. Her body is a drug; toned thighs, silky hair that gets messy after fucking, and even her beauty keep you yearning. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even pull out but go for another round after cumming. Yujin deserves it, as do you.

You love the feeling, her, and her very own sense of bringing you this much pleasure. You pull out halfway and shove your cock right in to make her gag even louder. It’s cute of Yujin—hotter as you keep doing it continuously. 

No woman gave you the pleasures like Yujin. Maybe it’s that she’s over, maybe she’s cheating with you, or Yujin has been longing for satisfaction for a while.

“Fuck, Yujin.” You said, groaning and taking deep breaths. Her tears begin to form, her eyes all red like lightning, as she only had one goal: getting you to cum inside her mouth. You continuously shove your cock, and it always gets messy when her saliva leaks out from the corner of her mouth. You grunt and groan, forgetting that she’s technically someone else’s woman, but Yujin’s all yours for several nights, and you’re taking advantage of it. “Just like that. I know you missed this."

You pull out of her mouth to let her breathe. Yujin looks up to you, glaring with desperate eyes. She spits on your cock, then wraps her hands again, jerking you off and squeezing it with love. Saliva and pre-cum were the only things dripping onto her clothes. “Taste good as always.” 

“Just for you, Yujin.”

She kisses your cock, slapping it on her cheeks with a smile. “I can never get tired of you.”

“How badly did you wait for this moment?”

“Too fucking long. Maybe because I love your cock better than my boyfriend’s.”

“Let’s keep it that way. He don’t need to know what you can do. Let him miss out.”

Yujin laughs, “you make me so fucking happy.”

“I could say the same. But hey, less talking, more sucking, please.”

“You’re so eager to cum in my mouth aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I, Yujin?"

“What about my pussy? Im also your cum-slut.”

“Bend over right now and we won’t be able to go for dinner if you’re that curious.”

“What if I do bend over?”

“Let’s-” Her thumb rubs on the underside of your tip, sensitive enough to make you stumble in your speech. “Fuck, Yujin,” you groaned. And her eyes were purely lustful at the way she was looking up at you. 

“I think we should stay home, Daddy."

“What’s so special about eating out when I have you, Yujin. Am I right?”

“Eat me after you cum.” Yujin sucks on your cock again, slurping loudly and making a mess like she was sucking on a popsicle stick. You brush her hair behind her, wanting to see Yujin sucking you off so beautifully. And you’re always baffled by seeing Yujin so nasty, hot, and even beautifully sucking on your cock. It’s a blessing. 

“Right there, Yujin.” Her tongue’s sliding underneath your tip. The area she loves teasing you the most. She laughs with enjoyment as you try to stand straight. Bobbing, slurping, sucking, moaning, and humming—it’s all you hear from Yujin. 

Paradise, or rather the feeling of pure euphoria. In her company, time seems to stretch, and neither of you mind if the world momentarily stops revolving.

She grabs your thighs and tilts her head to the side. Her cheeks are massaging your sensitive tip. Overwhelmed by an endless flow of sensations, grunting, and panting, she’s amazing at pleasing you.

“Yujin.” You groaned her name, a longer tone of pleasure as you kept brushing through her hair.

“Mhmm.” She hummed, smirking and smiling with your cock inside her mouth.

It’s torture and pleasurable at the same time, and you don’t want to do anything about it. She continues to bob her head; her gags got louder, chokes got harder, and eyes closed so beautifully to see her eyelashes all done for you. Your breaths got heavy, panting more as she kept going. Euphoria is where you’re still at. Without a word, you push your cock right inside her deeper and nape against the cushion of the couch harder.

“I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, and I’m going to cum deep in your throat.”

Yujin nods in agreement, gazing directly at you with lustful eyes. Her throat contracts the deeper you go, and you love the feeling. You thrust slowly, faster by the second, until she begins to choke and gag loudly like usual. By any means, you would rather ruin her makeup that she put on just for you. Even if it took an hour, the look on Yujin’s face would be the aftermath of satisfaction between the two of you. 

“Take it like the little slut you fucking are.” You felt her swallowing every drop of saliva and pre-cum, until choking was what she got for doing it. Letting her swallow isn’t what you wanted—a mess is what you want to see. You go deeper, pausing as she sits still without any muscle or movement being pinned down. “Don’t swallow, and be my good girl. Make a mess like you always do. Don’t be shy; it’s not like you.” 

She blinks slowly, with a tear falling. A sign that Yujin listened. Her hands squeeze your thighs as you pull back out halfway, shoving right in her mouth again—continuously. Seconds turn to minutes; she’s such a mess as you look at her. 

You hold onto the side of her face with a grin, whether or not you’re going to cum like this. It's not about her at this point; it’s all you—the feeling of pleasure cumming inside her mouth. And Yujin’s going to take it all like the shameless slut she comes over for.

“I’m going to cum.” You tell Yujin, and her eyes are closed shut with her head pushed harder onto the couch. Yujin coughs from all your cum down her throat, and she’s taking it with a smirk so slutty. You feel her swallowing all your cum, and you pull out as her mouth is still wide open, just licking off the extra on her lips, brushing it with each finger to savor the taste on her tongue.

“That was so much,” Yujin said, catching her breath. She wipes her lips clean and sits on the couch, quickly spreading her legs out, beckoning you for an invitation so seductively.

“Such a slut you are, Yujin.”

“You’ll shut up when you eat me out.” And she's right. You kiss her thighs, quickly licking on her folds, and she moaned right as soon as she felt your warm tongue circling in all the right places. Yujin’s legs hang onto both your shoulders, squirming around the more you eat her out. 

Her legs pin you in, and you aren’t going easy. It’s also been too long since the last time Yujin came over. You were hungry just for her. With her moans being more erotic, you know all the spots to make her melt and weaken. You grabbed onto her tits, squeezing them the hardest, as Yujin could only tolerate the aggression. 

Squirms, slight jerks, and her moans breaking became continuous. She tilts back, only her back arching as her legs pull you in harder. Your face became planted to her pussy. Breathing isn’t your worry; getting her to cum hard is all you wanted—right in your face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…..fuck!” Her body sinks onto the couch uncomfortably, but you’re making her like this. You wouldn't take it easy on Yujin; you want her exhausted after. “You’re gonna-”

With a pause from Yujin, you felt her body tense as she screamed uncontrollably in the most erotic way. She's cumming earlier than you ever expected. It's just minutes later that her breathing slows down. “When was the last time, Yujin?"

And you continue to kiss her thighs until she gives you an answer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said and looks to the side, embarrassed to cum earlier than you expected.

“Talk to me,” you kiss her thighs passionately, “you taste so good though. And it’s always every time that my I get a chance.”

“You aren’t disappointed, are you?”

“Not at all. Let’s go to the bed. I’ll make you happier than him.” You carry Yujin to the bed without her answer. “Just relax, and I’ll do the work today. You’ll be sleeping so comfortably tonight."

“So confident of you.”

You threw her on the bed, and she fought to be on top as you let her let it happen after a few seconds. She laughed, chuckled to be happier with you. “I should fuck you romantically. We can do what you want tomorrow, Yujin.” 

“At least let me be on top. I want to feel loved tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her words made you gulp, just wondering what was happening to her without you. Although you were curious, you didn’t want to ask. "Feel free to do as you please tonight, Yujin."

“I’m sorry, this isn't how we usually are on the first night, but thanks for understanding.”

You beckon her to get closer, kissing her passionately until she begins to grind on your cock. “I’ll love you for tonight. Maybe tomorrow if you need it also, Yujin.” 

“Shh, I’ll turn off the lights. Just let me have it my way. Cum as much as you want. It’s mine, Daddy.” Yujin gets up and shuts the lights off, even closing the blinds to a pitch-black bedroom. She gets on top of you, just her hands jerking you off slowly. Her hair brushes onto the sides of your cheeks as Yujin kisses you more romantically. “Love me tonight."

“Ready when you are, Yujin. Ride it as long as you want.”

A night like this wasn’t in your favor, or either, as you imagined, but you willingly accepted her feelings, just for the night.

The moment she puts your cock in her, Yujin gets closer to you in a more lustful way, staring at you romantically. And the kisses quickly became tongues fighting. Yujin grinds slowly the moment you trace over her figure, just caressing her in the most gentle way.

“Say you love me. Just for the night.”

And you’re surprised at what she wanted you to say. Regardless of whatever is going on in her life, you’re the one she’s cheating with. “I love you, Yujin.”

“Should we fuck to a slow song? Let’s try something new.” Yujin sits on top of you and browses for a song on her playlist. While she was on her phone, you caress her thighs, which you love to feel. The slow and soft, with the gentle squeezes you made, only made Yujin giggle with happiness. 

“You’re always smiling when you’re with me, Yujin.”

Yujin seductively gazes you up and down in the slowest way with a teasing chuckle. “That’s because I get to be with you, Daddy.” 

The song starts playing. You heard how slow the beat was, and it can come off sexual due to the lyrics. The moment Yujin lays down on top of your chest, both of you moan together as she starts to ride you.

Neither of you broke a single eye contact while the song was playing. The moment was with her, fucking each other like both of you are in love, and that’s how it remains. Even Yujin had her hands on the sides of your cheeks, begging you not to look away and keep staring at her, and only at her. 

It gets more dangerous when your heart starts fluttering while Yujin already has butterflies in her stomach. Neither of you wanted to admit any of this and quietly continued with the song in the background. Her breathing became heavier, moans got softer, yet it sounded erotic at the same time while you’re balls deep in her. And both of you are in the moment together, quietly.

The time each song changes, you can only assume how long she’s been riding you without any words. Every three to four minutes is typically how long a song lasts, and you’re grunting the longer Yujin rides.

She continues kissing you, from neck to lips, and you join her for passionate kisses. It didn’t take long for tongue kisses to start happening. You hold her in like you love her, tilting your head the opposite way from Yujin and making her hair a mess.

Not until the fifth song starts playing, the music suddenly pauses as you hear her ringtone. Yujin looks at the phone and puts it on silent, playing the song again to not disturb what both of you are doing.

“It’s just my boyfriend,” Yujin said in an annoyed tone and quickly gets down towards you again to continue.

Her kisses get more passionate, riding you to the rhythm of a slow romantic song. You caress her body to your desires in the early night.

“Fuck, just like that, Yujin,” you groaned.

“Daddy,” Yujin whispered in your ear purposely, “this pussy is all yours.” She gets off and lays beside you to be on the bottom.

You quickly get up on top to hear Yujin moan loudly for the split second you shove your cock inside her. She’s a beauty while her hair spreads on the pillow. And without a word, you pin her arms above her head, thrusting slowly with the rhythm of the song. 

Song after song, Yujin starts to pant every second with you, knowing she’s going to cum, and you’re almost at your limit. Her body jerks, quivering into Yujin cumming on your cock as you quickly choke her neck gently. 

“Good girl,” you groaned with a deep voice.

Not long after, she hugs you while you’re balls deep in her, thrusting slowly. And you continue to stare at Yujin, right in each other’s soul, while she nods from her body brushing against the bedsheets. 

You begin to choke her, not like she wouldn’t smile if her airway was blocked. Yet, she wanted love and affection tonight, and you’re giving it to her. You kiss her lips, biting them softly for the warm breaths you feel. 

“Get up and bend over for me, Yujin.”

“You love seeing my back, don’t you?” Yujin gets up and spreads her legs, looking back at you putting your cock back in without rest. It’s her toned back and ass that you love so much—just a shameless woman sleeping with you that doesn’t belong to you, but only on the bed. The backlines on her back when she arched always looked so beautiful. 

“Shh. Just moan for me, Yujin, like you always do.”

Her back arches more to give you a show of her body that you always get. “You’re fucking me so damn good,” Yujin murmurs into the pillow.

And you push her down, stomach flat on the bed with her moaning more erotic. Nothing sounded better when Yujin moaned in your bed all the time; it was pure bliss. Just music to your ears, and again, the thought of cumming inside her would be the best feeling every time.

You nibble on her ear, smelling the faint tropical shampoo she used today. It turns you on the fact that she got ready just for you. Yujin grips the pillow harder with her face planted. For not even a second, she wouldn’t stop moaning; it was just the right pace that Yujin loved: deep and moderate thrust—enough to feel loved.

“Say you love me, Yujin,” you murmured and groaned into her ear, just dancing with the devil and making feelings involved at this point.

“I love you, Daddy,” Yujin said, breathing along the rhythm of your thrust.

“Turn around, I’ll cum inside your pussy.”

She turned around quickly after you pulled out, beckoning you with a smile so happy that her legs spread open for an invitation. “Give it to me; no need to tell me.” 

So you would, and she wouldn’t care anyway. Yujin loves how your cock throbs inside her, coating her tight walls in warm cum each time. You can tell she’s addicted to you, your cock, and everything you do to her, even in the smallest ways to make Yujin happy and loved.

“Don’t stop,” Yujin pleaded.

You’ve lost count of how many songs went by. Yujin is in your very arms, gripping you so tightly. Her hands are soft and warm, and you feel how much love she needs for this. Neither of you would be able to tell if this is love or just wanted a rendezvous. 

You thrust deeper, pushing her thighs against your pelvis. Yujin moaned harder with her neck begging for attention, and you kiss her neck, making her tilt into the pillow while her arms were pinned against the headrest. 

“Cum in me, Daddy. I want it!”

Your cock throbs with each stroke, and Yujin has it all deep inside her. You grunt, only thrusting harder as your body hesitates. And you cum, erupting inside Yujin while she moans from feeling it flood her walls.

“Yujin,” you said, toppling down towards her and going for a kiss that she accepted. You felt the warmth of her body after you waited for months. “Cumming inside you is so satisfying.” 

Without a word, she holds you in, kissing your lips like you belong to her. You heard her moaning and humming as you joined Yujin for a romantic kiss. Back to your awareness, the song was still playing, and you turned down the volume to mute, not even caring if it was still playing silently. 

“I need to shower after this.” And she stares at you with a cute smile.

“Need me, Yujin?”

“No, you’re covered in my scent. I want to smell myself on your body.”

“Join me tomorrow morning, Yujin.”

She nodded with a seductive smirk and grabbed her phone. You stare at her naked body until she closes the door to the bathroom with a bright smile.

It’s been more than twenty minutes after she came out the shower. You’re relaxing on the bed with her, quiet as you both stare at your phones and cuddling.

“Want to see my panties? It’s so drenched and stained with your cum. I could feel it.”

“So dirty of you, Yujin.”

“And you love how I’m such a dirty whore for you.” She gets up on her knees and opens the slit of her panties for you to see your cum stained. “What do you say? The night is still young, Daddy.”

There weren’t any second thoughts. You get closer to her as Yujin closes her eyes with a smile to meet your lips, until you suddenly come to a pause. “Forget tomorrow; how about joining the shower with me? Then we can crash on the bed again.”

“Fine. That’s if we can even make it on the bed, Daddy.”

[ghouljams]

'Til Death (Remember Me in Your Will): Chapter 2

Rating: Mature (Minors Do Not Interact) Words: 4.4k Tags: David "Hesh" Walker/F!Reader, Sugar Daddy au, Dom/sub undertones, flirting Summary: You start dating Hesh as a way to supliment your income. It's not like you've never sugared before, you know how to play this game. It's just too bad Hesh seems to have his own ideas about what this relationship is.

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ao3

To be honest you don’t expect a call the next day. Despite the dinner, the kiss, the expressed desire to get to know you, something had to have been wrong for him to not take you home. So you busy yourself with work, and text your other sugar daddies when they pop up in your messages. You take your work bestie, Mari, to your favorite sandwich place for lunch and enjoy the chatter. You don’t think about the heavy hand that had settled on your back, the stroke of calloused fingers, the heady rush of Hesh’s attention. You have other things to worry about.

“You alright?” Mari asks when you shudder at the shivery feeling memory shakes down your spine.

“Fine,” You tell her, too quickly. She raises a brow in response and you roll your eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing. I had a weird date last night.”

“Date date, or…” She waves a hand, filling in the blank with a meaningful look. She’s not a fan of mentioning your other work out loud. You suppose you get it, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but it works for you.

“Other kind of date.” You clarify.

“What was wrong with him?” She asks, picking the tomato off her sandwich.

“Nothing,” You shrug, “He was perfectly polite, paid for everything, looked good in a suit-”

“But bad in bed?” Mari finishes.

“He didn’t even take me home.” You correct, and she gives you a look like ‘what’s wrong with you then?’ You can’t blame her. You’re wondering the same thing. “He hasn’t even texted me today.” You admit.

“Yikes.” Mari hisses, “Not good.”

“I know,” you groan, “but there’s plenty of fish in the sea, and I have plenty of other, uh,” you pause trying to find the best word for them for public conversation, “dates.”

Your phone buzzes on the table next to you with an incoming text. You give it a quick glance and feel your heart squeeze with something like disappointment that it isn’t Hesh. It’s one of your other innocuously named sugar daddies. First name, last name, with no discerning emojis or nicknames. Honestly you’d hesitated to put Hesh’s name in as “Hesh” but he’d said at dinner he rarely heard anyone call him “David” these days. Still, it felt almost intimate to plug those four letters into your phone.

It’s a daddy that doesn’t mind waiting on your texts, likely just checking in to see when the next time you can organize a date is, so you turn your attention back to Mari. You’re not a fan of texting when you’re with someone else, and it’s not urgent, so you’re fine ignoring it.

“Not the new guy?” Mari correctly guesses. You sigh, lean back in your chair and drag a hand down your face.

“Nah, one of the older ones.” You tell her. She makes a face.

“I don’t know how you do it,” She shakes her head.

“I don’t know how you eat your tomatoes separate from your sandwich, but I’m not judging.” You retort. 

“Fair enough,” She nods, plucking an aforementioned tomato slice off her plate and taking a bite. “Don’t you think about finding, like, a real relationship?” She mumbles around her mouthful.

“Ugh,” You make a face, “After what happened with Josh?”

“Point taken.” Mari makes a face in return. “Hey can I have half your sandwich?”

All business, she offers you half of her sandwich in return, already plucked clean of tomato. You laugh and pick up one half of your meal to trade her. 

You’re walking back to work when you spot a familiar face.

You grab Mari’s arm and haul her closer to duck down and hide behind her. Or at least hide as best you can, you get your face out of view. Mari looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“That’s Hesh,” You hiss at her as she raises a brow, “the guy from last night.” She glances around. “Brown hair, black coat, tall.”

You know when Mari spots him because her eyes go wide.

“And gorgeous?” She whisper-yells at you, “What is wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you lead with that?”

“Him being good looking is not the problem,” You whisper, “it was a bad date, I don’t want to see him.”

“You said it was fine,” Mari mutters, shuffling along with you despite her grumbling.

“Not if he won’t text me!” 

Mari keeps looking at him, totally un-subtle with her glancing. “Maybe he thought you would text him?” She reasons, you glare at her, “He keeps checking his phone, and he’s, like, with people.”

“Oh my god.” You groan, “Just get me out of here.”

“Just keep walking you fuckin’ dork, he’s not even looking over here.” It’s Mari’s turn to haul you, dragging you in the opposite direction of your failed sugar daddy and towards your building. You try not to look too pathetic a mopey as you trudge along beside her. You desperately want to mope though. Just your luck to run into the guy that wants nothing to do with you.

You manage to make it through the last few hours of your work day without incident, your work tiring enough without the added headache of a man’s feelings.

You turn them over in your head though. Maybe he was waiting for you to text him. If he was he didn’t know much about how this worked, but then again he didn’t seem like he’d done this before. Part of you felt a little bad at the idea you were ghosting Hesh. Inadvertently ghosting, but ghosting nonetheless. 

It was just that so much of the relationship came with a script. Your interactions with him weren’t free, and it was his job to know that. Especially after he turned you down last night. If he really does want to get to know you better then why the fuck hasn’t he texted you? It’s not like you’re sitting around waiting for him. If Mari is right then the only person who’s waiting around is Hesh. You have other people to cater to.

Speaking of. You tug your phone out of your pocket and skim the short text one of your daddies sent you at lunch. Nothing unusual, asking about meeting up for the weekend, offering some time by the country club’s pool in exchange for your usual allowance and his usual dicking. You click over to your calendar, you could do this weekend. Saturday maybe, then you could do brunch with one of the “busy” ones on Sunday. 

Your fingers hover over Hesh’s name. You could text him. It wouldn’t break your protocol or anything to text him and just let him know that you’re open to getting to know him as well. You just need to make sure he understands that getting to know you comes with a price tag. You’re not dating him, not really, and he needs to know that as well as you do.

If he’s looking for someone to get to know, it isn’t you.

You lock your phone and focus back on your work.

The sun is setting by the time you clock out. Your computer is still warm in your bag as you meander to your car. You’d gotten a few texts about scheduling from daddy #1 and you were feeling decent about your weekend plans. You check your phone for the hundredth time as you start your car. Still nothing from Hesh. You don’t know why you bother sitting in the empty chat you have with him, your phone hasn’t buzzed, no typing bubble has popped up, and you’ve lost all hope that the guy had any real interest in you. It was a good date, but something about you didn’t fit for him and he wasn’t going to call you.

You’ll check out your usual sites once you’re home, see about finding someone to fill the gap he was supposed to fill in your monthly expenses.

Or you could bite the bullet and text him first, your rational brain reminds you. Why the hell are you playing hard to get when he’d be paying to see you? Hell you’re probably the easiest thing to get, basically a product on display at the store. 

The least you could do is just check that he isn’t interested.

Your apartment feels painfully empty when you open the door. The box of Josh’s things is still sitting by the door. You’re not texting him again to come get his garbage. You’ll pitch it at the end of the week. Honestly you don’t think you miss him as much as you miss his dog. Maybe you should think about getting one again.

You scroll through petfinder as you kick off your shoes and lock the apartment door behind you. Maybe you should crack open a bottle of wine with dinner. Fuck, what are you even having for dinner? You fire off a quick text to one of your friends with a link to one of the dogs on petfinder as you glance over your stock of leftovers. 

She gets back to you fast, you thought she was working late today, didn’t she have a shift at the hospital? You glance at your notifications, paypal.

“Hesh Walker sent you-”

Your eyes widen a little, fuck that’s a lot of money. What the hell? He doesn’t text you all day and now he’s-

[Hesh Walker: Was starting to think I scared you off.] Flashes at the top of your screen. 

You tap on the text and note that you sent the listing for “Java, 12 weeks” to Hesh, not Hana. His typing bubble pops up and you quickly switch to a different app. You’re popped back into paypal, staring at four digits with no tag. 

Was he waiting on you to text him? 

[Hesh Walker: The dog’s cute.] At the top of the screen, then:

[Hesh Walker: image]

Your finger hovers over the button to quick switch between apps. You tap it twice and are treated to a photo of a dopey looking german shepherd. Its mouth is open with its tongue hanging out the side, a little white greys its muzzle but it’s eyes are big and watery. Puppy. 

[Who’s that?] you type out quickly. Too preoccupied with the thought of more dog photos to remember he sent you way too much money for just a text.

[Hesh Walker: Riley.]

[Hesh Walker: Busy day?]

You frown, it’s exactly the sort of tactic you’d use to figure out why a daddy hadn’t been responding to your texts. Which means he was definitely waiting on you to text him. Why? You’re not exactly ascribed to traditional relationship markers, but wasn’t the guy supposed to text first after a date.

[Didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.] You tell him instead of delving into your personal life. [Turned me down pretty hard after our date.]

The typing bubbles pop up, leave, pop up, leave several times before Hesh sends something.

[Hesh Walker: I’m sorry.]

You blink at your screen. You think this might be the first time a man has just… flat out apologized to you. No trying to explain it, no trying to make excuses, just a flat apology. 

[Hesh Walker: I meant what I said about getting to know you.]

[Aren’t you a gentleman

[So no sex?

[That’s not really how this-

You delete your third text in a row. You don’t want to be too sassy after he just paid you. God, he paid you. You don’t even know what he paid you for.

[What’s the money for?] You send instead of responding to his text.

[Hesh Walker: For texting me.]

[Hesh Walker: I’m trying to buy your love.]

You laugh and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. Despite being alone in your apartment you feel a little embarrassed for laughing at such a corny joke. 

[So what are the rules here?] You respond with a smile.

[Hesh Walker: Why don’t we grab coffee and talk it out.]

Your eyes flick towards the ceiling trying to remember if you’d scheduled that brunch date for Sunday. God, you really should schedule some time with your friends too. 

[How about brunch, Sunday?]

[Hesh Walker: My treat.]

[Of course.]

You close your phone and go back to rummaging through your fridge. You could order take-out, but you already went out to eat today, you can’t throw all your money into food. Maybe pasta? Or you have some chicken left over from- from- Jesus you need to get groceries.

Your phone buzzes.

[Hesh Walker: Gonna ask it again: how was your day?]

You type out your reply quickly, resigning yourself to take-out. [Fine, just trying to figure out dinner.] You switch to your favorite delivery app and start scrolling. What looks good? It’s been a long day, you haven’t really given yourself the time to think about food.

[Hesh Walker: Staying in or going out?]

[Ordering in

You tap your finger against the side of your phone. You’re not doing great at texting this guy, he’s given you money, he deserves more than a two word answer. You delete your reply and type a longer one.

[Thinking of ordering in, but I haven’t decided yet. What about you?]

Perfect. As much as it’s moderately annoying having to switch between apps when you’re trying to use one, you don’t like being dismissive with the guys paying your rent. You do have some manners after all.

[Hesh Walker: I was going to check out this pop-up.]

He sends a link along with his text and you tap it open to look over the small plates and fancy pictures. The food looks phenomenal, and the restaurant itself has a sort of cozy, intimate, vibe that you’re sure is every influencer’s nightmare. Which means it’s not just a shitty gimmick restaurant.

[Looks cool!]

[Hesh Walker: Great, I’ll pick you up.]

You blink at your phone. What?

[What?]

The typing bubble pops up and you watch each little dot bounce as you wait.

[Hesh Walker: They’re going to give me a two-top whether you’re with me or not, and if I’m going to have dinner I’d rather it be with you.]

[Hesh Walker: So I’ll pick you up.]

[You don’t know where I live.] Is the only thing you can think to respond with.

[Hesh Walker: Then send me your address.] Like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

You drum your finger against the side of your phone again, tap tap tapping at your phone case as if the steady rhythm will solve all your problems. Nevermind that you didn’t agree to dinner, can you really just send this man your address? He seemed nice at dinner last night, and if he did turn out to be a murderer it wouldn’t be hard to find him considering how public his (and your) profile on the website you’d used was.

Your stomach grumbles as you think.

Shhh.

You send Mari a quick update on the situation and let her know that if you’re not at work in the morning the police should definitely be called, before sending her Hesh’s profile picture.

[Mari: 👀]

[Mari: that’s the man you fumbled???]

[Mari: previously fumbled sorry]

[Mari: I’ll let the cops know they’re looking for the hottest man in California.]

You roll your eyes and switch back to Hesh’s messages, take a deep breath and send your address through.

[Hesh Walker: Be there in 30]

Thirty? Thirty minutes? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Okay. 

You hurry to your bedroom to strip out of your work clothes and dig through your closet for something date-worthy. You’ll barely have time to slap some makeup on, and --Christ-- is this a heels sort of place?

You sniff one of your dresses to be sure it’s clean and tug it from the hanger. You scroll the pop-up’s instagram to see if there are any customer photos. Definitely worth dressing up a bit, you learned your lesson after your first sugar daddy: Better to be overdressed than underdressed for dinner. You pull a pair of heels out from under your bed and check your time. Ok, looking good. You tug the heels on and stand in front of your mirror. Looking good there too. You’ll grab a jacket and- fuck you have to change your backpack out for a purse.

You’re barely put together by the time someone’s knocking on your apartment door. Which shouldn’t happen. The building has a doorman. Is he just letting people up? 

You try not to look harried when you slip out the door to greet Hesh. You shut the door tight behind you, unwilling to let him get a peek at your apartment. 

He looks good, that same long black coat he was wearing earlier opened to reveal a deep navy suit that- no that- that’s definitely an officer’s coat. Your eyes dart to the ribbons over his breast pocket, the colorful lines delineating service, the brass buttons, the pins. Fuck, is he in uniform?

You drag your eyes to his face. His green eyes sparkle, creased at the edges by his smile. You pointedly do not look at his mouth, even as memories of last night’s kiss fill your mind.

“Are you in uniform?” You ask, unsure where to start the evening when you haven’t had any time to prepare.

Hesh hums, his hand slipping to press against the small of your back, guiding you away from your door.

“I didn’t have time to change, just came from the base.” He informs you. You have to focus on the way you walk, overly conscious of how close he’s walking, the way your arm brushes his side each time you take a step, you can smell his cologne. Rich and earthy, musk with a heady bourbon finish. You spare a glance at his face, trace the proud line of his nose down to the pink lips. The 5 o’clock shadow he’s wearing makes you think he’s telling the truth. “You look beautiful.” His thumb rubs against your dress, sending a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickle your skin. God, you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” You don’t mention how off guard his invitation caught you, but you sort of want to, he should know the hell he’s put you through today, “I thought this place deserved a little dressing up.”

“Nothing for me then?” Hesh asks. You glance to make sure he’s joking and find him grinning at you. Your stomach flips. You must be hungrier than you thought.

“Not after ghosting me all day,” You tell him with a smile, a joke for a joke.

“Thought you’d wanna take charge,” He tells you, he nods at your doorman, his hand itches lower, fingers just skating over the edge of your panties. His voice is low when he leans close, dripping like caramel down your spine to settle between your legs, “But if you’re happier taking orders, I’m very good at giving them.”

“Military humor.” Is all your brain can spit out to respond with. It doesn’t do anything but make Hesh hum, his hand sliding low over your ass, big and warm and absolutely tantalizing.

“Something like that.”

The only thing you remember from the car ride to the restaurant is Hesh’s hand on your thigh. You think maybe you talked about something, but mostly you’d been too focused on why your body seemed so focused on something so simple. Were you really so used to doing the seducing that you couldn’t handle when a man took the lead?

No, that wasn’t it. Plenty of the men you sugared for were assertive. All of them, at least, knew what they wanted and how to ask for it. It shouldn’t make your head spin just to feel a hand on your thigh.

It had been like this on your first date with him too, you’d forgotten all about the money because he was just so… magnetic. That’s what it is. Some background trait, some square of his shoulders, that makes people look when Hesh walks in the room. You could lose yourself in it if you aren’t careful, forget what you were here for.

A text about your electric bill snaps you out of your thoughts as Hesh discusses his reservation with the hostess. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You’re here for the money.

Hesh’s hand finds the small of your back again and you stiffen without meaning to.

“Don’t tell me you’ve dropped the seductive act already,” He teases in a low voice, leaning close. You pout your lips and tip your head to look up at him.

“You wound me, I wasn’t acting, I really am that hot.” You like the way he smiles in response, the low acknowledging hum he gives you as he guides you to follow the hostess to your table.

“I can’t argue with that.” Again the deep cadence of his voice sends goosebumps over your skin.

He pulls your chair out for you. It’s not the first time a man has done that, not even the first time Hesh has done it, you’re used to it, there’s no magic in the gesture, and yet…

You sip your water as Hesh takes his seat, ignoring him as much as you can get away with while he orders wine. It’s just because he caught you off guard with the impromptu dinner invitation. You’re off your game, you just need to slip back into the right headspace. You need to get hold of the reins again.

“So how was your day?” You ask when the waiter leaves to fetch whatever bottle Hesh decided on. You need him talking about himself, something to let you find the undesirable parts of him. 

“Boring, and I doubt you want to hear about military forms all evening.” He responds easily.

“You never told me what exactly you do,” You remind him, as if you’ve just remembered yourself. He pauses, and gives you a long look, before settling his elbows on the table and leaning forward to speak in that low soothing tone.

“You’ll have to get to know me better to learn that sweetheart,” He smiles, “can’t go spilling military secrets to just anyone.”

“What?” You smile, matching his posture, you feel yourself falling into that familiar working headspace as you push your tits against the neckline of your dress, “You think I could be some foreign agent?”

“Tryin’ to seduce me aren’t you?” Hesh responds, though there’s no accusation in his tone.

“Is it working?” You ask, tipping your head. You wish he’d kiss you. He’s so close, his face just inches from yours. His eyes flick to your lips, like he can read your mind. 

He hums in assent.

You squeeze your legs together under the table, stifle the breathy noise that rises in your throat as your stomach flips.

He sits back, and you’re treated to the slow drag of his eyes over you, hot and heavy on your skin, burning like fingertips as he waits for you to move. You aren’t even sure you want to, there’s a part of you that likes this, that likes being on display for Hesh. Validating in some way that attention from the rest of your daddies isn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s younger. Maybe it’s the way he leans back in his chair and tips his head, like he has all the time in the world to oogle you.

You jump back into your seat when the waiter returns with the wine.

You don’t even hear them rattle off the menu.

Nor do you put up any fight when Hesh orders for you.

You’re too conscious of the way your dress brushes your skin, the way your hair tickles against your neck, the way the warm restaurant air slides over your body with each person that passes your table. You’re too conscious of the way Hesh watches every move you make.

And yet the conversation is so easy, so effortless, that you hardly notice you’ve finished your meal.

Hesh stops in front of your building. You’d expected something different when he’d said he was taking you home. It seems you are, once again, being denied a proper end to your date. Impromptu date. You try not to let it sting.

“Thanks for the ride,” You try not to let your voice give anything away, grabbing the handle and turning to get out of the car. You don’t get far before Hesh’s hand has grabbed the back of your head and turned you back towards him, his lips sealing over yours. You exhale sharply through your nose, letting your eyes drop closed as he kisses you. His lips move against yours, an insistent push-pull that coaxes you into following, lures you into parting your lips for his tongue as it swipes over their seam. 

He positively devours you, his mouth hungry and the hand on your head demanding as he licks into your mouth and twists his tongue against yours. You suck on the wet muscle testingly, and feel the satisfied groan that rumbles through his chest. It emboldens you enough to push into him, to lean your weight into the kiss as you tilt your head, your hands finding the lapels of his coat to try and holding him in place as his teeth catch your bottom lip. 

You do your best to follow his lead, your hips aching with how you’ve turned towards him. All you can think about is crawling into Hesh’s lap and grinding your hips against him, feeling his big hands stroking over your curves, his deep voice murmuring in your ear. You make a small noise into the kiss, and the hand on the back of your head tightens. 

Your seatbelt is already off, it’s easy to lean further across the console, to settle your hand on his thigh as you press into him. Your fingers brush the hard clothed length of his cock and your breath shudders to a stop as Hesh hisses.

His hand clamps over yours, pressing your palm against his hard cock like a lifeline, and for a brief moment you think he might fuck you in his car. You’re not opposed to it. He pulls your hand away from his lap and sets it back in your own.

“Thank you,” He tells you steadily, “this was fun.”

“Are you not-” He shakes his head, and kisses you once, chaste.

It’s like dumping cold water over your head.

“I’ll see you Sunday.” He assures you.

You don’t bother watching him drive off with how quickly you stalk back to your apartment, cheeks burning with the shame of yet another rejection.

[forcemeanakin]

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

•WARNINGS: Semi-smut. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this). Dirty talk, teasing in a public space, voyeurism, make out session. Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage. 

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part Two Summary: After your little moment with Mr. Skywalker last night, you’re determined to persuade your father-in-law into fucking you. Right on the dinner table with everyone else around. Including your boyfriend. 

Word count: 3.5K.

Link to Part One

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 

I’m super excited to announce that I’m very motivated to continue the journey of this pairing, so I’ll be turning FYBD into a series! :) but please be patient! I don’t usually deliver short fics, that’s why it takes me so long to post ! (also look at me trying to polish my themes, omg who am I?)

NEXT PART WILL BE PUBLISHED ON SATURDAY !!!! <3 Consider this as a Part 2.1. If you wanna be tag on it, leave me a comment below :)

“Alright, everyone gather at the table! Dinner 's ready!” Padmé yelled, placing the last set of plates while Leia dropped the center piece. 

“Sugar, you look like a million bucks.” Luke complimented your outfit while you finished up accessorizing, hiding your eye roll by clipping your earrings. 

Last night, you eventually made it to bed with him, feeling uneasy the rest of the night. You gave Luke your back, refusing to cuddle or respond to his arms wrapped around your waist. Tossing and turning, every time you shut down you dreamed about Anakin and his lustful orbs. And, unlike someone with common sense, you didn’t feel guilt from your forbidden target. No, it riled you up even more. 

Being spooned by your boyfriend while thinking about his dad. 

The naughtiness of it was a thrill you didn’t want to stop chasing.

“Is that dress new?” From the moment you woke up to this very instant, Luke hadn’t stopped apologizing and drowning you in compliments and demonstrations of affection.

Yet you still hadn’t responded to him with the same tenderness, prolonging your fight. The reality was that you had already forgotten all about the “slut” bomb, but staying angry at him somehow justified daydreaming about fucking Anakin. 

“Thank you.” You replied coldly, checking yourself one last time in the mirror, turning around to make sure the back side wasn’t wrinkled.

You had chosen the tight, long, black dress even before making it your personal mission to seduce your boyfriend’s dad. You were now thanking Y/n from the past for packing something so flattering and form fitting to this particular event. It’s not like you were out of place, everyone was dressing up as well. 

“Guys! I’m not calling you again!” Padmé rushed. 

“Y/n I don’t want us to keep fighting… Not this weekend, please?” Luke caught your attention by trapping your hands inside his palms. “I’ll do better. Be more adventurous for you…” He murmured, caressing your arms with tenderness. Arching an eyebrow at your cleavage, “Maybe make it up to you tonight?”

Disappointment settled in your chest at the prospect of not spending the night with Anakin.

“Sure.” You faked a smile. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” He kissed your cheek, missing your horrorized face. “Now, after you, m���lady.” He exaggerated a bow for you to walk in front of him.

You snorted, “You’re such a dork.”

Luke escorted you to the table, pulling your chair to sit right in the middle of him and the empty head of the table. Right in front of you was Padmé, with a gorgeous light blue gown and beside her was Leia, who was trying to sit down Han at the other head of the table.

“I don’t want to sit right in front of your dad!” He whispered-yelled, being harshly pushed by his girlfriend to sit his ass down. To be such a tiny person, she sure was strong.

“Try to bond!” She whispered back, fanning herself so the sweat wouldn’t ruin her makeup.

“I'll get food poisoning” He huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And he’ll puke in my face.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, accepting Padmé’s offering of a glass of wine while observing Han’s pout.

“Easy for you to laugh, newbie.” He scoffed with his usual feistiness. “Could you please do something despicable so he hates you instead of me?”

Oh, you sure had done something to scare him off. 

After he practically ran away from you at full speed, you hadn’t seen him all day. Leia and Han adopted you the whole morning, taking you to pick up some stuff for dinner and showing you around the area. Luke joined in at lunch time, after dealing with a way-too-long call from his friend Din. And even when you came back to the house, Anakin was secluded in his little cave, his personal workshop, in the back of the house and hadn’t showed up at all. 

“Y/n, love that dress, you’ll have to lend it to me.” Leia complimented mid sip.

“Manners, Leia.” Padmé scolded her, head moving in disapproval as she set her napkin on her lap.

“You can borrow it whenever you want.” You winked at the short girl, earning a heartfelt smile. 

“It’s perfect for my funeral.” Han dramatically threw himself on the backrest.

“Han, I can’t think of something I could do that would make him dislike me more than you.” You joked, cracking a breadstick. 

Yes, you could.

“Maybe you could kick R2. At least that’s what Han did.” Luke snorted, Han’s head snapping to send daggers to the blonde. 

“I didn’t kick R2!” Han raised his voice while wincing. 

“Yeah, you did.” Leia murmured under her breath. 

“I accidentally fell on him!  How was I supposed to know that he was behind me?” Han freaked out, dramatizing the scenery. “Oh, who am I trying to convince? You already made up your mind about it.” He dismissed the potential debate, shooting the rest of his beer. 

“Han, you’re overreacting, he doesn’t hate you.” Padmé reassured him with a soft smile. “That much.” She said under her breath. 

“How bad could dad actually be?” Luke rolled his eyes, picking one of the entreés to stuff into his mouth in one bite.

You googled him while you were supposed to be showering: the “Hero with No Fear” had enough battles, manslaughtering and war crimes under his belt for Han’s panic to have grounds, your deep investigation showed.

“Ha! You haven’t endured his bullying for two years.” Han crossed his foot over his knee. 

“And counting.” The voice that had you clenching around nothing boomed through the air, his figure appearing just when Han was about to eat a piece of breadstick, immediately choking. “Good, now I don’t have to do it myself…” Anakin muttered under his breath.

Anakin’s eyes widened when he distinguished that the seat reserved for him was right by your side. His usual seat was always at the head of the table, but having you at arm's reach was exceptionally dangerous after the occurrences of last night. It felt like all his hard work of avoiding you all day was just thrown into the trash with a single sweep. He convinced himself that he had to push through dinner, eating faster than usual and quickly returning to his workshop and wait until everybody left the dining room, so he could safely seek refuge in his bedroom.

Nonetheless, faith had a different path for him. One of painful blue balls and heavy sweating. 

Why did you have to wear that dress? Was it indeed appropriate for a family dinner or was it just him thinking too much of it with the head inside his pants?

And why were you smirking at him like he was the meal you were about to devour?

“Anakin, good, you’re here. Let’s say grace so we can properly start eating.” Padmé announced, glaring at her son that was currently on his third appetizer.

Padmé thanked the Maker for having the whole family here, making special emphasis on being grateful for you this year, the new member of the family. You popped an eye open, and voilá, Anakin was staring at you while her wife praised you to the rest of the table. Separating your palms from praying position, you dropped one on top of his, careful not to make a single noise. You drew random figures inside his palms with your nail, biting your lip as you checked him out. If his handsome face wasn’t enough already, he was wearing a full suit, black tie on top of a white buttoned up. 

Perfect to rip apart.

“And please bless this delicious meal that it’s about to feed us… Amen.” Right before she could pronunciate that final word, Anakin had slapped your hand away. “Alright, let’s dig in! Ani, honey, could you do the honors and carve the turkey?”

Whatever that would keep him away from temptation. 

Getting up, Anakin picked up the utensils, turning the turkey around to cut into it. Doing the proper round, he asked every single person their meat preferences before making the incision, starting with his wife. Anakin quickly ruled that him with knives and using his strength to lash a large piece of meat wasn’t the best evasive mechanism when he spotted you drooling over his flexed bicep. 

“Dad, I want a leg.” Leia requested, passing up her plate to him.

“Sure, darling.” Anakin propped the leg on her plate carefully. “Good choice.”

“I want one too, please.”  Han put his plate up in his direction.

Anakin glared and huffed, but eventually dumped the requested piece on Han’s dish. “Fucking child…”

Giving up, Han dropped on his chair, violently biting the leg. After Luke picked white meat, Anakin had no other choice but to pay attention to you. 

“Y/n-” He cleared his throat, ignoring your subtle attempt to press your cleavage against the table so your tits would pop into his vision. “How do you like your meat?”

Anakin regretted that question the second he formulated it. Although, he was appreciative that the brawl between the twins deprived everyone else from your answer. 

You offered your plate to him, wide doe eyes as your foot grazed his shin. “I like my meat tender.” Your velvety voice sent an electric wave directly to his groin.

The rest of the dinner was no better. 

Playing footsie, curling your hair with your finger, glancing at him longer than necessary, more lascivious than necessary. There was this particular moment that still had his mind-blown: You, leaned over to Luke to whisper something in his ear, gaining a laugh from him in complicity and sealing the adorable scene with a quick peck, all while your sandal made its way up to an escalating boner inside Anakin’s underpants. 

“Pass the salt, please.” Anakin requested out loud, clearing his throat, seeking a distraction.

But you were fast as a bolt. 

“There you go, sir.” Flashbacks from your face all flustered calling him that kicked in, the salt shaker falling from his hand at his nervousness and the contact of your hand. 

“Y/n, question.” Leia broke through the madness of noises. 

“Of course, shoot.” Anakin was amazed at your ability to smile like nothing was happening underneath the table, like you weren’t trying to touch his thigh underneath the table cloth with the hand that wasn’t supporting your chin. 

“What’s your major? I think I haven’t asked you that yet.” Leia swallowed a spoonful of sweet potato casserole. 

“I’m a psych major.” You drank a bit of your wine. 

“Oh, that solves the mystery. You’re dating Luke as an experiment, aren’t you?” Leia mocked, earning a kick from her brother. “Auch, laser brain!”

“Leia!” Padmé scolded her. 

“My God, have you been psychoanalyzing us this whole time?” Han stopped chewing his biscuit as he stared deep into your soul. “How bad is it?” He was dead serious.

“Oh my- No! No! I haven’t, I promise.” You totally had.

“Could you please prescribe something to mom so she relaxes once in a while?” Leia begged. “Or give her a session, whatever works.”

“Bet you are thrilled to hear Y/n is a psychologist, huh, sir? Know how much you love shrinks, Mr. Skywalker.” Han’s sarcasm revealed -in a very obvious way- how much Anakin did not like your profession. 

“Still better than being a smuggler.” Anakin bit down on a piece of meat with venom directly right at Han. 

“Oh, dad!” Luke exclaimed. “You should do dad!”

You grinned at the way Anakin almost spit his drink. 

“I’m so open to that, sir.” You turned to meet the former Jedi’s face and smirked with mischief at Anakin’s knuckles turning white on his grip on the chair. 

“Do you do the little shrink couch thing?” Han wondered with his mouth full. 

“I mean, if the patient wants to lay down while I do all the work, that’s fine by me.” You laughed innocently, batting your eyelashes to Anakin the second everyone got distracted trying to guess what you would diagnosed Han with.

Sensing Anakin’s heavy breathing, you did the whole charade of dropping your fork onto the floor, obliged to pick it up. As much as Anakin tried to nervously hide the bulge in his pants, you confirmed that your little game was in fact working. You sat back on your chair with a victorious snicker.

“Oh, c’mon dad! Let Y/n work her magic on you! You bottle so much stuff, it’s good to let them out.” Leia reasoned, completely missing the panicked face of the woman that gave birth to her.

“Suddenly, I’m full.” Anakin announced, cleaning the sauce off the edges of his mouth and tossed the napkin to his plate, getting ready to leave.

“You can’t go, we haven’t had dessert yet.” Padmé frowned, signaling with a harsh glare to sit back down. 

“Why don’t Luke and I take care of that?” You stood up, picking up the empty plates around. 

“Oh, no, sweetie, you’re a guest-” 

“No problem at all! Please let me take care of you.” The fact that you said that while collecting Anakin’s plate was a true coincidence. 

“Only if you let Han and I wash the dishes!” Leia negotiated, following her mother’s welcoming values.

“Shut up, I bet they were going to do it anyway.” Han grunted with gritted teeth. 

“We’ll be back with dessert.” You declared, dividing the tower of plates and walking to the kitchen with your boyfriend. 

While Luke threw away the leftovers, you came back to scoop up the rest of the plates with the side dishes and so. You surveyed everyone about their dessert preferences, until you reached a spot next to Anakin. 

“Padmé, back me up here! Wouldn’t it be cool if we save money on rent and live in the Falcon?” Han upped his voice to match Leia’s.

“I'm not living on a ship that’s falling apart, Han!”

“It would be an adventure every day!”

Sliding by Anakin’s side to hoist up the gravy bowl, you briefly grazed his shoulder with your chest, excusing the lame contact by your need to stretch for the dish. While you were leaned over him, the low-cut of your dress exposed to his delight, you turned your head and asked him:

“Would you like dessert, sir?” No one would figure that your question had any double meaning, but Anakin knew the filthy desires your eyes hid. 

“Not for me, thanks.” He smiled curtly, doing a superhuman effort not to fall into the teasing of your playful peaks behind the tight fabric. 

“Are you sure, Mr. Skywalker? The pie’s so soft and warm, very creamy. Baked it myself.” Anakin visibly shuddered, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes while gripping the armrest. 

You grinned, thanking your hair for covering your expressions to the rest of the family so you could bite your lip lecherously. 

“On a diet.” He spat, playing with his fork to avoid the magnetic pull of your wanting eyes. And if you hadn’t taken the hint, he rubbed his eye with his left hand, showing off the gold band in his ring finger. 

“Please, it’s cheat day.” You curved your lips into a smirk, feeling clever at the pun. “Just a taste? Bet you’ll love it.” That tortuous glint in your eyes. It had him, it had him good. 

“He’s always playing hard to get, Y/n. Bring him a piece!” Padmé interrupted the moment, smiling at you and Anakin, unaware of the tension she had just cut off. 

“I see that.” You finally left the table, not without grazing his back with your swaying hips.

“You know what? I’ll help you with these.” Anakin barked, standing up and picking the few dishes left.

“Oh-” You stiffened at his huge figure walking towards you. You were not prepared for him to bite into the trap. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll come back for the rest.”

“Let me. It’s the least I can do.” Standing in front of you, he raised his eyebrows to hurry you. 

Nervously, you made your way to the small aisle before the kitchen, feeling the powerful pounding of your heart. His presence hung heavy behind you and suddenly the bravery you had flagged during supper had magically disappeared, the only trail it left were your jelly legs. Mere feet from the kitchen door, you felt a pull from your waist, your back stamping against the wall. 

“Is this funny to you?” Anakin glared at you, pressing your torso enough to threaten your ability to breathe. “Trying to break up a marriage, being the homewrecker of your boyfriend’s family? While he’s at the table?”

You tried to escape, fighting against him for your release. But if the enlarging of his nostrils was any sign, you were not going anywhere anytime soon. It was time to summon that feistiness back. 

“You can’t mess up something that’s already broken.” You snapped, squinting your eyes. “Why are you really here Anakin? To tell me off?” You cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “You don’t seem rather convincing.”

Being between a rock and a hard place had a whole other meaning when you were sandwiched between the wall… and Anakin’s crotch. 

“Stop it.” He demanded, seeing the way you put aside the dishes on a nearby table to play with the lapels of his suit. 

“That’s not what you were saying last night.” You grazed your lips against his chin, enjoying the quivering that came from it. “Why do you fight it, Anakin? And don’t pull up your lame excuse of a marriage, when we both know that’s not the reason.”

Anakin pushed you by your throat, your head hardly banging against the wallpaper. He overlooked your whining, taking advantage of your dizziness to get his point through.

“Forget me, Y/n. All about me. All that happened.” He warned in a deeper voice. “For my sake. For yours.”  

“Tell me you don’t want me, Anakin, and I’ll stop, hell, I’ll fucking leave.” You murmured with a fire in your eyes letting him know that you weren’t joking around. “Just say the words and I’ll be out of your face.”

Disappointment settled in Anakin’s chest at the prospect of not seeing you anymore. 

So he stayed silent, waiting for the duel inside his head to end and speak the winner’s name: lust or reason. Luke’s voice calling for his girlfriend helped the struggle come to a conclusion. 

“You haven’t answered the question.” You reminded him, to his disdain. “I want you, Anakin, you-”

“Forget me, Y/n. It may be too late for me, but there may be salvation for Luke and you.” He advised, pushing the plates back to you, stepping back. 

“Y/n! I need help over here!”  Luke again.

“Alright. Loud and clear, sir.” You spat, brushing past Anakin while he still stared at the floor.

Marching down to where the voice was calling you, you encountered Luke elbow deep into the water.

“Hey, you brought the rest of the-” 

“Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to be more spontaneous?” Your breathing was irregular from the adrenaline rush. 

“What?” Luke frowned, drying up his forearms with the hand towel. 

“Kiss me, Luke. Kiss me now.” You demanded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing against him.

“It’s everything okay? Why-”

“Luke! Please.” You purred on his ear, peppering smooches along his cheek. “Kiss me, please.”

Once Luke caught up with your level of neediness, he delivered the antidote for your hornyness. Hands fixed on your hips, Luke’s lips found yours and played along at the dangerous pace you set. The makeout session quickly escalated: out of nowhere you were roughly jammed against the counter top, manly hands sliding to your back side to squeeze some of the fat. You reciprocated Luke’s attention by playing with his hair as you sucked his bottom lip. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as kissing Anakin; because even when you and Luke were almost sucking each other’s face off, he was still too gentle for you.

But thrill didn’t take long to appear through the door. 

Anakin’s stroll to the kitchen ceased at the door frame, when he spotted the heated embrace you two were entangled in. Thankfully, the only person he could see was you and barely because of Luke’s back. So your visual connection was only possible because you managed to angle your boyfriend so you could see Anakin above his shoulder. 

Luke moaned when you hugged him tighter, kissed him harder. 

“Y/n.” He moaned, unaware that your sudden passion was boosted at the sight of his dad’s heaving chest.”You’re so hot, sugar.”

“I want you.” You whimpered, staring dead into Anakin’s eyes. “I need you.” Your naked leg escaped the slit from your dress, surrounding Luke’s hip. “Just do it. Give it to me.”

Whatever sweet nothing Luke murmured into your ear flew right under your radar as you delighted yourself with the view of Anakin’s hurting frown. The image was ripped away from you when Luke physically circled your attention back to you. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. You’re too much for me.” Thanking him, you came back to kissing, the only escape route you had at hand to evade his love bombarding. 

However, Luke’s cringy dirty talk was the second most disappointing thing to happen in that kitchen, just after Anakin leaving.

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin

[dustofthedailylife]

The Art Of Desire

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You are in need of a model for your anatomy class assignment. However, the last thing you expected was that your crush would volunteer to help you and that he would end up standing in front of you without a shirt.

Tags: Fluff, Suggestive (but still completely SFW)!, shy reader, partial nud*ty I guess? (Alhaitham is shirtless at some point), flirting, kissing

A/N: *throws fic into the room and leaves*

Being an artist while also being a scholar in Sumeru had always been somewhat difficult for you. The arts had never been something most people in Sumeru City appreciated or even actively looked down upon. It was a city of scholars after all, and the arts were too abstract to properly grasp for most of them.

Things had begun to become better after the old Grand Sage had been replaced and the new Archon had been freed but a lot of scholars still didn’t show much interest in the arts.

But due to that an assignment for one of your classes proved difficult. Anatomy.

You had no idea how learning human anatomy would help you as an architect later, but you did what you had to do. And it would surely help you with your personal art projects later on as well.

The only thing you had to find now was someone who could pose for you. Surely Kaveh would be able to help you right? He was your best friend and was once in the same situation.

You sought him out where he hung around the most - the Tavern.

As you walked through the Tavern door, warm air that smelled like wine and spices wafted your way and filled all your senses. You loved how homely it always felt here.

You scanned the tables to find Kaveh. Unfortunately for you though, he wasn’t alone. As you feared, Alhaitham was with him. You already considered turning around to leave again but Kaveh had already spotted you and was enthusiastically waving for you to come over to their table. 

And that was precisely the reason you rarely ever came here nowadays. Kaveh often met up with Alhaitham here for lunch. And your crush on the latter had slowly but surely turned you into a nonsense-blabbering mess during conversations with him. At this point, he probably thought you were stupid.

You hesitantly tiptoed over to their table and greeted them while your heart pounded heavily inside your chest. You sat down on the bench next to Kaveh who was already a bit tipsy. It wasn’t much of a surprise, since he was such a lightweight and practically got drunk as soon as he looked at wine the wrong way.

“Kaveh, I need your help!” You pleaded, trying to avoid eye contact with Alhaitham as much as possible once again.

“And that would be, my dear friend?” Kaveh replied in a singsong voice.

“Alright so… I need someone to pose for me. I need to draw a couple of detailed torso drawings for the anatomy course I’ve been taking, and since you also took that once I thought you could help me. I mean, you could also give me some tips. Right?” 

“Oh.” His smile faltered for a brief moment and his facial expression told you everything you needed to know. There was apparently a reason he couldn’t help but he didn’t outright want to turn you down. You knew how he is, he simply couldn’t say no and would inconvenience himself any time for his friends. And you definitely didn’t want him to do that for you. You’d be able to find someone else somehow.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it. Just say no.” You reassured him.

“I have an appointment in the desert with a client, but I’m sure I could make some ti��”

“I’ll help you.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off.

Both of you snapped your heads in his direction in disbelief.

“Are you sick?! Why would you volunteer to help anyone but yourself?” Kaveh gasped and looked at the Scribe as if he’d lost his mind.

“It’s not much work, is it? They could just come to my office and draw me while I just sit there doing my work. Isn’t that correct?” Alhaitham inquired, boring his turquoise eyes into you. You simply nodded in reply and could feel your breath hitch in your throat. You were sure that if you would be standing right now your knees would’ve probably given in by now since they felt like jello. On top of that, your nervousness skyrocketed so badly that you were able to feel your heartbeat in your throat. 

The thought of being alone with Alhaitham for a prolonged period of time while ogling him as closely as you never dared before, made your heart flutter. You probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on drawing properly but if he was already offering it, you couldn’t possibly refuse. Especially since he usually didn’t do anyone any favors to begin with.

“Besides,” Alhaitham continued. “It gives me an excuse to decline every other meeting for the rest of the day.”

“Tch, typical. Of course, there’d be an egoistic reason for your volunteering.” Kaveh scoffed.

“I don’t see any issue with that. I help them with their assignment while also helping myself. It’s a beneficial endeavor for both of us.” Alhaitham reasoned, twirling his own wine cup between his fingers before turning to you again. "Wouldn't you agree, too?"

You slowly nodded before quickly averting your eyes again since you couldn't bear to look at Alhaitham for longer than a few seconds without getting flustered. You had no idea how you were supposed to look at him for a prolonged period of time to draw him if you were already reduced to a flustered mess by talking to him. The thought alone made your heart almost jump out of your chest.

Kaveh shook his head in annoyance and turned to you once more. “Just say the word and I’ll take a day off to help you. Rest assured, it would be no problem for me.”

“No, Kaveh. I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your own responsibilities for my projects. Just keep your focus on yourself. If Alhaitham is so kind to offer his help I’ll take him up on that.” You reassured him while trying to hide how nervous you actually were about the situation.

“Well, shall we get going then? My lunch break is almost over.” Alhaitham interrupts, immediately getting up from the table.

You somewhat hesitantly got up as well since you didn’t expect he meant you could draw him right now. You had no time to mentally prepare for it so this would be interesting.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about getting back to work on time after your lunch break,” was the last thing you heard Kaveh yell before the door of the Tavern fell shut behind both of you.

As you quietly tailed behind Alhaitham back to his office the realization that you’d actually be drawing him now suddenly began to dawn on you.

Oh, just what did you agree to here? And how in the world should you avoid making this awkward now?

Once you arrived at his officeAlhaitham unlocked the door and motioned you inside.

“You can sit down at the table over there. Do you need anything?”

“No. I should be fine.” You replied with a shy smile.

You were in fact everything but that.

While you were trying not to have a meltdown as you unpacked your stuff, Alhaitham was brewing some coffee and handed you a cup as well.

“Do you need me to do anything?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In terms of posing.”

“Oh. Uh– no actually not. Just sit on your chair and read or whatever?”

“Nothing easier than that.” He replied with a faint smile, grabbing a book from the bookshelf beside you and walking back to his desk.

You busied yourself by scanning the books on the shelves that littered his office while sipping on your coffee before you turned around again and had to stop yourself from immediately spitting your coffee out again. Although as soon as you did you wished you had never done so.

Alhaitham had unclasped his cape and had loosely thrown it over his desk and was just about to pull his shirt over his head. You were trying to process what was happening before your eyes but your mind was racing so fast that you failed to fully grasp the scene before you.

“W-what are you doing?!” You stammered.

“Didn’t you say this was for your anatomy assignment?” He inquired, seeming entirely unbothered before ultimately removing his shirt completely.

Well, yeah you did. And for that bare skin was sort of a requirement. You knew that full well, too. It just sort of slipped your mind that taking Alhaitham up on his offer would actually entail seeing him without a shirt as well.

“Y-yes.” You replied, moving your eyes over his now exposed abdominal muscles. His usual shirt already left little to the imagination, but actually seeing his trained body without the thin piece of fabric covering it was a sight for sore eyes.

He claimed to only be a feeble scholar but that notion couldn’t be any further from the truth.

“Then there you have the answer to your question.” He stated matter-of-factly before sitting down and opening his book to read. His face still looked as unbothered as it did before and he immediately lost himself in his book.

In the meantime, you tried your hardest to get yourself together again. Not only did you need to keep your eyes from wandering but also your mind. 

You traced every well-toned muscle of his upper body. How light and shadow formed their contours and how his pectorals moved whenever he flipped another page. You took note of every detail and etched it into your memory while suppressing the urge to brush over his defined muscles.

You sat down at the table and held onto your pen for dear life as you continued to analyze every little detail of his body. The embedded gem between his collarbones and hot it beautifully shimmered in the light of his office. The sharp V-Line that started right above his hips. The symmetric curve of his collarbones leading up to his shoulders. And his turquoise eyes that were boring into yours once again.

"Is anything the matter?" He inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"N-no. I'm just trying to find a starting point." You stammered your poor attempt at an excuse.

After all 'Sorry, I was too distracted by staring at your body' wasn't something you could just say either.

“T-tell me if you’re getting too cold and we can take a break.”

“It’s 40 degrees outside, I’ll be fine.” He chuckled seemingly amused about your concern.

“Ri-right. Yeah. Okay.” You awkwardly bit your lip. For Archon's sake, why couldn’t you just behave normally around him?

After overcoming the first awkwardness you eventually started sketching. But the more the shapes on your paper resembled the beautiful man in front of you, the more flustered you became again and the more aware you became of the fact of how closely you were actually looking at him. Your attention to detail for this sketch was even more on point than it had ever been before. Upon realizing that it was because you were enjoying what you were seeing your cheeks started to burn in embarrassment.

You spent about an hour immersed in sketching, carefully studying every contour of his upper body. It felt so intimate that you couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever looked at him this way before. And even though you kept telling yourself that this was just a regular art study session to avoid getting flustered further, the endeavor proved completely unsuccessful. 

Eventually, you finished your piece and dropped your pen on the table. You lifted your sketchbook up to evaluate the page and the final result.

The once-blank page was now filled with an intricate pencil sketch of the handsome man with a dreamlike physique. You had to admit, he truly was the perfect subject for anatomy studies. And while you wouldn’t mind seeing him shirtless more often you doubt your heart could handle it another time. Because despite sitting the entire time you felt like you had just run a marathon.

“Your talent is quite impressive.” Alhaitham’s voice rang right next to your ear and made you flinch. You didn’t notice how he had approached you. And what made things worse is that he was still shirtless while standing next to you so closely you could feel the heat that emanated from his skin and smell his after-shave.

You gulped and got up from your chair avoiding looking into his eyes as much as possible because you feared that if you did your heart would burst out of your chest. 

“Thank you. That means a lot. I-I mean… it was quite easy to see the muscle definition on you.”

Facepalm. Why did you say that? You internally cringed at your choice of words and continued to avoid looking at him while you hastily started packing your bag again.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He remarked with a smirk and lifted your chin up with your sketchbook, forcing you to look into his eyes.

You opened your mouth in order to say something but everything you could’ve said died in your throat. So instead, you simply continue to stare at him while your heart felt like it was about to combust and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground in shame.

He huffed in amusement at your evident flustered state and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his arm next to your head on the wall, towering over you.

“Do you have any idea how obvious you are?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at me, or rather how you always avoid doing so now. And Kaveh happened to slip up and revealed your secret when he got drunk. And that’s why I can tell you that I feel the exact same way about you. And I’ve longed for a moment to tell you. You didn’t make it easy since you kept avoiding me lately.”

You didn’t know whether what was happening was wishful imagination or a fever dream because it felt surreal. 

He put your sketchbook back on the table and lifted your chin with his free hand now. He took hold of one of your hands and placed it on his abs.

“This is what you wanted to do the entire time, am I right?” He whispered while the bud of his thumb brushed past your lower lip. You slowly nodded as your traced along his toned stomach with a featherlight touch, feeling how the muscles moved below your fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered in a low tone when you looked up into his eyes.

He had barely even finished asking when you leaned into him more and took the initiative to place your lips on his for a shy kiss. But it was so fleeting it had you longing for more and it seems that the feeling was mutual.

He quickly snaked his arms around your waist and pressed you against him with fervor while he hungrily crashed his lips into yours once more. You slung your arms around his neck and entangled your fingers in his soft gray locks while pushing his face even closer to yours than it already was.

You could feel him smiling into the kiss, as you did so. His lips continued to gently caress yours like a tender whisper of affection shared only between you two. It made you feel lightheaded while also leaving you longing for more. It was an intoxicating feeling like no other. One you certainly could get addicted to - and maybe you already were. 

At some point, you had no idea for how long you had been standing there kissing but it felt like an eternity yet not long enough at the same time.

You were sure of one thing though – You needed more of it.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[itsphoenix0724]

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x reader)~Chapter 2

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.3k

MMOTI masterlist

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I've been working on this series for a while, and I'm glad people are excited to read it! I've decided to make a tag list for this series because so many people asked for it last time. I've never done one before so I hope I do it right <3

DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

You find Azriel on the ice at five pm sharp, his hands tucked in the pockets of a Velaris Univeristy hoodie. His eyes flick over you, almost with disgust, as you approach with a box tucked under your arm. 

“We’re not going on the ice today. Even if we were you can’t wear those.” You gesture to the well-loved hockey skates on his feet, and mark how his eyes narrow. 

“What’s wrong with my skates?” He asks, immediately on the defense, crossing his arms. 

It makes him seem impossibly bigger.  

“Nothing Azriel, if you’re playing a hockey game, but we’re not playing a hockey game.” You shake the box in your hands once before handing it over to him. The pair of shiny black figure skates sit in the box and Azriel takes one skate out running his scarred hand gently over the blade with a musician’s grace. “You should break them in before we actually get on the ice.” 

“They’re heavier than I thought they would be,” Az tucks the skates gently back in the box and moves past you to get off the ice. He sits down on the bench, leaning down to undo his laces. “Where are we practicing then, if we’re not going on the ice?’ He looks up at you from under the dark fringe of his hair, and you’re struck with his beauty for a moment. 

“We’re going to the studio in the back.” You make a gesture with your head as he stands, crowding your space. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, and you can’t even see around the expanse of his shoulders. Leading back him to the studio you walk in tense silence. Your coach, a beloved old lady named Alis, waiting infront of the mirror examines Azriel like a piece of meat. 

“So, this is who you’re finishing the season with?” She looks him up and down with mild interest as you dip your chin in confirmation, setting your bag down to start warming up. Alis circles like a predator as Azriel watches with confused disinterest. “Nice build at least, looks strong if a little bulky for my taste,” she mutters. Azriel whips his head back at you in defense, but all you can do is breathe a sigh of relief. Getting Alis to agree to train someone other than Lucien was half the battle. “Alright, stretch, then I’ll see what I’m working with. Hopefully, we can piece together some semblance of a routine,” She shakes her head as you turn to Azriel. 

“Do you want me to help you stretch?” You question and Azriel’s brows raise high, a smirk across his lips for just a moment at an insinuation you didn’t imply. Your cheeks tinge with 

pink, and his eyes dip to your cheeks, satisfaction from rattling you dances in his eyes. “Not like that obviously,” You scoff, rolling your eyes and busying yourself with digging out your water bottle so you have an excuse to turn away from him. 

“I don’t think I need to stretch like this is a ballet class, I can stretch myself” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, suit yourself.” Let him dig his grave. You know he’s doing you a favor, but he doesn’t have to be so condescending about it. You fall into a spilt to stretch your legs and Azriel looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You finish your warm-up, and Az remains leaning against the wall, stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He stretched his arms out a little and nothing else, so it’s his fault if he’s sore tomorrow. 

“Alright,” Alis claps her hands together once, and both your attention’s snap to her like a knee-jerk reaction. You guess being coached vigorously for years can do that to a person. “Let’s see if we can get something together. Young man, stand here please.” She gestures to a spot on the floor and then calls your name, telling you to stand infront of Azriel. 

You’ve never been so close to him before.

Your entire back pressed against his front, the sight in the mirror sends you a strange feeling in your stomach. His frame dwarfs you easily, the broad planes of his shoulders and the muscles of his arms strain against the compression shirt he had on for practice. 

You could climb him like a tree

The thought hits you so suddenly that you feel the heat flood your cheeks as you finally meet hazel eyes in the mirror. If he noticed you ogling him, he thankfully says nothing. 

You go over some transition moves which go shockingly okay, Az picks up on the rhythm surprisingly quickly body flowing like a river easily through the steps. You make a mental note to ask Rhys if Az plays an instrument. Alis looks impressed for a first practice, and you two were so concentrated you haven’t bitten each other’s heads off yet. 

Until you start to try a couple of lifts. 

Everything goes downhill from there. Az manages to get you in the air a couple of times, but it’s never stable. Either you’re too tense or his grip is all wrong, and you’ve hit the ground and Azriel’s shoulder too many times to count. You both are frustrated and then the harsh words start. 

“Can you just fucking relax already so we can get this over with? Aren’t you supposed to know what you’re doing?” he growls out after Alis calls for a water break. 

“Maybe if you could just get your stupid hands in the right position I could fucking relax,” You glower down at Azriel’s scarred hands and he shoves them in the pockets of his sweats angrily. You feel a wave of guilt instantly because that was possibly the worst thing you could say. 

“It’s not working because you don’t trust each other,” Alis mutters, rolling her eyes as she tries to figure out something on her cellphone. “I’m going to suggest maybe spending some time together outside of this. To build some trust between the two of you.” You and Azriel eye each other with equal distaste. “Think about it, we’re done here for the day.” You’re frustrated, you’re sweating, and you’ve hit your hip enough times you think it’s been permanently bruised. You pack up your bag slinging the duffel over your shoulder, he copies your actions putting his new skates to the bottom of his hockey bag. You leave the rink together in silence, breathing in the chill of the night's dark air, letting it calm the flames of your ever-growing temper. You want to go home, you want to bury yourself under mountains of pillows and ice cream and scream at the unfairness of the world. The last thing you need is a group of drunk hockey players rallying after a loss. 

And of fucking course they’re right next to your car. 

Azriel’s about to walk in the other direction to his car, but you in a blind panic grab his arm. 

“Walk me to my car.” You plead, eyes widening at the sound of a bottle smashing against the ground. “Please.” Azriel's eyes narrow in confusion before they flick over to the crowd of rowdy men. He nods once and you begin the trek across the parking lot with a sizeable distance between the two of you. They still stop and look at you, eyeing you like a piece of meat. Azriel notices, in a quiet observant way of his. He moves closer to you slinging one arm around your waist, it burns through your clothes like a brand. They wisely back off then with all of Az’s towering physique wrapped around you like a guard dog. He opens your door for you and shoves his phone in your hand, still eyeing the group like he’s about to pounce. 

“Put your number in my phone, it’ll be easier for the future.” He’s still looking at the guys out of the corner of his eyes as you type your number. “Drive home safely,” Az mutters. 

“You too,” you respond. You settle into your car, and Azriel waits patiently for you to back out and drive away before walking to his own car.

Taglist:

sidthedollface2, bionic-donut, lyinginameadow, feyretopia, natashachelsea, going-through-shit, mika-no-sekai-blog, hijabi-desi-bookworm, brandywineeeee

[say-al0e]

Dark Cloud

rating: pg

Summary: If anyone understands the pain of losing someone you've already mourned, it's Jake. (AKA my dad passed a little over a month ago and it’s been difficult to understand my emotions so I’m doing what I do best and write about it) Warnings: Death of a parent, bad relationship with parents, abusive parent, self-deprecation, general anxiety, grief, feelings, etc. (Anything else and I’ll tag it.) Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I’ll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 3.8k Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Jake Seresin was not known for his silence.

At any given moment, he could be counted on to produce a witty quip or sarcastic comment. He was known for having a big ego and an even bigger mouth. To those who knew him - those who loved him - it was a mild annoyance. To those who didn’t, it was infuriating.

Despite his reputation, however, there were moments of relative quiet in the life you shared with Jake.

There were moments of quiet reflection, often in the days before or after a deployment, where he ruminated on what he’d done with his life - the things he’d accomplished and grew prouder of with each passing day, the things he had yet to achieve but knew were within his reach, the future he’d built with you.

There were moments of bliss, comfortable stretches of time where no words were needed as you allowed yourselves to disappear into your own little world. Those moments were few and far between as you were rarely left alone long enough, but you savored every chance you had to enjoy the life you’d built together.

There were moments of discontent, seconds that felt like hours passing in an uncomfortable lull that only amplified the insecurities or worries or sorrows either of you felt. Those moments dragged on, heavy and bitter in an otherwise beautiful existence, but were luckily few and far between.

Some of the moments of quiet you shared stretched on endlessly and you were grateful. The moments of quiet bliss and peaceful contentment were moments you wouldn’t trade for anything. Others grew less intense with time but you were still grateful for them as they encouraged growth.

But as you sat in a deckchair almost as old as you in a backyard you’d spent a different lifetime in, one of those moments you hoped would disappear just as quickly as it began enveloped you.

This moment was not one driven by Jake. The silence was not his choice - not something prompted by a reflection on his own mortality or the future he often worried he was jeopardizing by following his dreams. There was no bliss, no pride, no happiness, no worry for himself. This moment was one he held entirely for you.

Three days had been spent in a heavy hush, a silence that pressed on your chest and left Jake quieter than you’d ever seen him. He’d been rendered speechless after a short midnight phone call from your mother and chose his words carefully in the days leading up to the moment you found yourself desperate to run from. The silence was tentative, as if he knew one wrong word would snip the fraying thread you found yourself clinging to, and you hated it.

Though you’d often asked him to be quiet - almost always teasingly - and though his presence brought you comfort, his silence only made the overwhelming noise of your thoughts that much harder to withstand.

Despite finding yourself surrounded by family, the vast majority knew little about you. Jake, however, knew you well. He knew that you’d spent those three days struggling to understand - to rationalize, to compartmentalize - feelings that were complicated at best. He knew when you needed guiding, when you needed him to ask questions to help catalogue what you felt. He knew when you needed him to distract you, offering you stories from his last deployment to pull you away from the heaviness at hand.

But, most important of all, he knew when you needed space.

The moment that enveloped you, the quiet he’d given you in the three days since receiving that phone call, was meant to be comforting. It was meant to be the space you needed - space to decompress, space to be uncertain, space to be overwhelmed, and you appreciated the thought behind it. You were grateful he wasn’t pushing, grateful he hadn’t joined your mother or other well-meaning friends and family members in asking how you were doing, but you’d grown tired of the quiet as the still of the backyard surrounded you.

Orange light from the setting sun lit the world aflame and burned nearly as warm as the flurry of emotion churning in the pit of your stomach. It was difficult to catalogue what exactly you felt - mentally, physically; everything blurred into one overwhelming ache that you felt deep in your bones - and you weren’t quite sure how to articulate that.

Very little about the few days you’d experienced made sense, least of all your emotions, but you knew that if anyone could string together meaning from your rambling stream of consciousness, it would be Jake.

With a sigh, you slumped deeper into your chair and blinked back the sting of tears threatening to fall.

Every single person you’d interacted with for the better part of three days began every conversation with a barrage of questions; how are you? How are you feeling? What can I do? They all declared how tough it must be, some even claimed to understand exactly what you were feeling. It must be so hard, they cooed, before promising they were there if you needed them.

It was all superficial, at best, but you took the question as a base to begin a conversation you’d been dreading.

“I’m fine, Jake.” There was little chance he didn’t notice the quiver in your voice, even less of a chance he didn’t notice the clench of your jaw and the heavy exhale you released, but he nodded, just the same.

“I believe you.”

Jake knew that you weren’t fine - not really, not entirely - but he also knew that what you were feeling was more complicated than grief.

Losing a parent was always going to be a difficult experience but losing a parent you’d gone no contact with for reasons beyond your control only further complicated matters. There was no easy explanation for the multitude of emotions clouding your brain and Jake understood that.

Jake lost his own father in his twenties. Though he’d still been on speaking terms with his father upon his death, if only barely, their relationship had always been difficult. His father was cold, controlling and domineering, so Jake understood complicated relationships with fathers just as he understood how difficult it was to grieve someone long before they died.

Everything you felt, every complicated emotion and messy blur of feelings, you knew he would understand. It was likely he’d felt them himself. Regardless, it still felt nearly impossible to articulate as you blinked against the sun’s harsh glow.

Few others had seen the toll your mother’s misguided attempts at encouraging a reconciliation between you and your father had taken. It was well-intentioned, you were sure, but ended in an anxiety you hadn’t felt since your teenager years.

From the safety of your shared home, Jake had witnessed a handful of tense phone conversations. He’d listened as your father threw insults thinly disguised as questions or compliments and belittled you in ways that made his blood boil. He’d watched as you slumped on the couch and gave one word answers as you willed those awful conversations to be over. He’d held you after as angry tears tracked down your cheeks and you wondered just what you’d done to deserve this kind of treatment from someone who was supposed to love you.

It made sense, then, why he’d remained so quiet at your side. And instead of pressing for an answer, asking questions that would only make the entire process that much harder for you, he waited. He sat quietly, green eyes flickering between you and the trees in the distance as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“None of this is for me.”

The declaration felt bitter, dripping acid as it fell from your lips, but it was honest in a way you couldn’t be with anyone else. No one else understood, no one else saw you - really, truly, completely saw you - in the way that Jake did. Though you felt overwhelmed, anxious and upset, you felt hopeful that he’d get it as he hummed.

“How do you figure?”

“Funerals are… hard,” your settled on, blinking hard against the tears you were frustrated still managed to sting at your eyes. “They’re supposed to be for people you love, people that meant something to you. They’re supposed to give you closure. It’s a final send-off, something that just… marks the end, I guess. You mourn someone that meant something to you but all he was to me was a nightmare.” With a deep breath, heavy and barely enough to fill your aching lungs, you shook your head. “I didn’t lose my dad on Sunday. I lost him when I was old enough to realize what kind of person he was.”

Anger, burning hot and all encompassing, made it easier for you to finally feel the emotions you’d been attempting to rationalize away. And Jake, who had been waiting calmly for the storm, sighed.

There was little doubt that Jake was also feeling a multitude of emotions neither of you felt capable of exploring in the moment but that did little to stop him from reaching out to take your hand in his own. The weight of it, the heat of his palm pressed to yours, tethered you to the moment. A gentle squeeze helped you remain present as you swallowed the emotion clumping in your throat.

“Everyone here things I’m the problem,” you began, quiet but angry. “They think I just up and abandoned my dad. They think I’m a bad person because I haven’t had a relationship with him in over a decade but no one bothers to ask why. No one asks what happened to make me leave home and refuse to come back. No one asks why I went nearly fifteen years without speaking to him. No one puts any of the blame on him. They just ask why I didn’t try harder.”

The still of the night stretched endlessly around you but Jake’s attention fell solely on you. Those green eyes burned into your skin, patient, as you took a shuddering breath.

“Why was it my responsibility?” The question, a broken plea for an answer you knew Jake couldn’t give as he’d wondered the same thing, lingered unanswered for a brief moment before you huffed. “I’m the child here. He was the adult, he was my dad. He was supposed to care, to make me a priority, to love me. Instead, he made me believe I was worthless. He told me that no one would ever love me, that I was too difficult for anyone to ever waste their time on me. He was a miserable, abusive, narcissistic son of a bitch but no one ever acknowledges any of that.”

Breathing grew more difficult with every word you spoke. The weight of every emotion you’d ever felt in relation to your father pressed on your chest, leaving a dull ache between your ribs as you took a moment to clench your jaw and regain some semblance of your composure.

Jake knew all of that.

The beginning of your relationship had proven difficult because of your shared difficult pasts. Both of you had been wary of commitment - Jake because of his own insecurities, his own doubt that he’d never be worthy of anything more than a one night stand - but you’d managed to take everything in stride. Just as you’d encouraged him to know his worth, he’d been instrumental in helping you to find your own.

There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes as he realized just how difficult the experience was proving to be, just how easy it was for you to revert to an old way of thinking. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much progress you’d made, you felt yourself spiraling as you scrubbed at your cheeks.

“Everyone says he talked about how proud he was of me. He told them all that I lived in California and had a good life but he didn’t know anything about me. He had no idea what I do for work. He didn’t know your name, didn’t even know we were married. He didn’t know anything about me but he had everyone convinced that I was the problem. And I just…” With a weary sigh, feeling the weight of the world pressing on your shoulders, you laughed. “It’s not fair. Why did he get to have friends and so many people to defend him? Why did he get to spend so much time being happy, not caring, loving his friends when I spent years wondering if anyone would ever be able to love me?”

Jake squeezed your hand gently and you could feel the weight of that single gesture. It meant more than he likely realized, warmed you from within, and you desperately wanted to look at him but you knew that sparing him a glance would only end with you dissolving into tears. You were on a roll, speaking the thoughts you knew made little sense to anyone else but had been plaguing you since you received that phone call, and stopping didn’t seem like an option.

“Sometimes I wonder if all of this was my fault.” The admission was quiet, your voice dropping to a near whisper and thick with emotion as you laughed quietly - self-deprecatingly. “I remember being so happy when I was little. I remember him taking me places, going out to dinner and seeing movies and going to the roller rink. I remember him coming to my softball games and my spelling bees. I remember feeling loved.”

With a shake of your head, you tugged at a fraying thread at the hem of your top. “I remember all of that, but then I also remember being ten and wondering if everyone else had a dad who yelled at them. I wondered if everyone else had a dad who would disappear for days when he was angry. I wondered if everyone else had a dad who would throw things at them and make them cry. I don’t… I know if I just got older and he got meaner or if I just gained consciousness and realized he was always mean.”

Faint sounds of life began to bleed into the backyard - the noise of your mother and step-father and various family members who’d dropped by with food and well-wishes milling about - but you ignored them all as you inhaled a shaking breath.

With a single glance spared at the silhouette of your mother, you laughed quietly. “My mom doesn’t remember it but we had an argument when I was, like, fourteen. I don’t remember what it was about but I remember her being so angry at me and saying that I was more and more like my dad every day. I didn’t cry much but I remember breaking down. Nothing anyone has ever said to me has hurt that bad. I think about her saying that all the time and I try so hard to prove that it’s not true but it feels like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work to be a good person, I keep seeing more and more of my dad in myself.”

With another harsh breath, this one a desperate attempt to clear your throat of the emotion threatening to choke you, you wiped harshly at the tears that had started falling. Somewhere in the midst of your inner turmoil, there was an anger that you allowed yourself to cry. None of this was worth your anger, your upset, your energy, but it felt impossible to do anything more than continue spouting a stream of consciousness you only hoped Jake could still follow.

“While you were deployed, I went to the bar with some friends after a bad day. I wasn’t really in the mood but I ended up having fun,” you admitted, shrugging lightly as you dropped your gaze to where your intertwined hands rested on your thigh. “At the end of the night, though, it was just me and Blake on the patio and we were talking about all the stupid shit that was happening at work. I made a joke about trying to be more positive and he laughed. He said it was no use because I’ve always been a ‘dark fucking cloud’ and that was just who I was. It was a joke,” you conceded, lifting your hand to trace a nonsensical pattern across the back of Jake’s hand. “But it really wasn’t. He’s right. I’ve always been a dark cloud and I’ve always been miserable and bitter and angry.”

A quiet laugh, devoid of any humor and clearly as defeated as you felt, escaped as you shook your head. “All the words parts of me, all the things I wish I could change, all the things I know that make it difficult for people to like - let alone love me - are all parts of my dad. And I just wonder, what happens if I can’t fix those parts? What happens if I spend the rest of my life as this dark cloud? What happens if one day, all my friends realize how miserable I make them? What happens if, one day, you realize that you could do better? You can be a jackass but you’re a good man, Jake. You could easily find someone who loves you that’s bright and happy and warm. I worry that I’m going to die alone, miserable and forgotten, just because I’m me; a dark fucking cloud that pushed everyone away.”

Jake allowed the silence to linger for a moment, giving you a chance to catch your breath. When he realized you were finished speaking, he reached out to carefully brush away the tears tracking down your cheeks. From the corner of your eye, you caught the look on his face - a deep sadness you’d never seen from him before, complete with shiny eyes and a frown - and felt a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes.

Though you tried blinking them away, Jake shook his head.

“Sweetheart.” He slid his chair a touch closer, his knee knocking into yours as he lifted his free hand to your cheek. “I don’t say this often, but you’re wrong. I don’t know what to say that will make all of this better but I can tell you what I do know.” With gentle fingers, he tilted your head to meet his eyes and, despite the urge to glance away, you held his gaze.

“You are not a dark cloud.” His conviction was clear, certain and strong as he searched your face. “You know that everyone was surprised when you showed up to the Hard Deck. They couldn’t believe that someone as good as you, someone as bright as you, could love me. I can be an ass, but you? Even when you don’t want to, you try to see the best in people. It doesn’t matter how bad your day is, doesn’t matter how rough things are, you’re always trying to encourage the people in your life. I can’t count how many times you’ve told me your day was shit only for you to turn around and spend the night hyping up Bob, cheering up Phoenix, singing with Rooster, making Coyote laugh.

You’re the most supportive person I’ve ever met. Anyone who asks you to show up for them, you’re there and cheering the loudest. You push people to be the best versions of themselves. When I’m in my head, you’re the person to bring me back. Despite everything, you’re a good person. You try so hard and everyone can see it. I’m difficult to like, but you? There’s nothing difficult about liking you and there sure as hell isn’t anything difficult about loving you. You love me, you make me happy, and I’m lucky I get the chance to love you.”

With another gentle squeeze to your hand, Jake sighed. “None of this is your fault. You were a kid, sweetheart,” he reminded you, careful to avoid irritating your skin further as he brushed away the few tears that continued to fall. “I know all of this is hard. I know you loved him when you were a kid and I know there’s still some kind of love there. I know it still hurts, even though he hasn’t been in your life. And I know that none of this makes any sense. I can’t tell you not to worry about any of this but I can promise you that I’ll remind you every chance I get of just who you are. I’ll be here to remind you just how loved you are. You are a good person, sweetheart, and I love you. On the good days, on the bad days, on every other day in between; I love you and I’m not the only one. You mean so much to so many people and we’re lucky to have you in our lives.”

As the tears fell faster, Jake stood from his seat and tugged you up after him. He pulled you into an embrace, arms wrapped tightly around your body, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He allowed you to squeeze him tight, body pressed close to his, and waited patiently for you to calm.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice carrying through the night when your breathing began to even. “You know I’m not just saying this for the sake of saying it. I’m not that nice.”

When you laughed quietly, Jake smiled. “Thank you.” With another soft squeeze to his middle, you sighed. “I love you, too, Jake.”

“Alright, what d’you want to eat?” Jake shifted then, tipped his head to look you in the face, as he redirected the conversation. He knew there was an apology coming - one neither of you needed - so he stopped it before you could. “You haven’t eaten anything all day. And if you tell me you’re not hungry, I’m calling Rooster and letting him sing as many songs as he can,” he teased, waiting to see if his joke would earn him a smile.

“You decide,” you offered, smiling lightly as you nodded. “I don’t want to make any decisions. I’ll have whatever you get.”

“Okay,” he relented, appeased by the easy agreement as he wrapped an arm around your waist and began guiding you back to the house. “C’mon, we’ll get you some water and figure it out.”

The pair of you knew the pain of this loss better than anyone. There was no easy resolution, no easy answer for the messy feelings you still felt roiling in the pit of your stomach - no solution for the feelings this dredged up in Jake - but you felt a little more at peace.

The path now placed in front of you was in no way straightforward, not one you’d be able to navigate easily, but you felt hopeful that there would be a rainbow shining bright through the dark clouds, just as long as Jake was by your side.

_____________________________________________________

Author's Note: I dunno, man. It's been a rough two months.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​

[darcytaylor]

Lemme get this straight. The restaurant guy tagged the wrong location in his story. Then A swoops in, tagging the correct location, potentially exposing where he was in real time. The very thing that even his fans don't want because we know there are crazies out there who will stalk him. Smdh

One of two things will happen next - she will either post a selfie or a twerking video from the hotel they're staying at and fans will figure out where they are, feed the info to DM, and they'll get papped. Or DM already has boots on the ground based on the pasta story.

I honest to god can't figure out why he puts up with it. His friends have stopped doing it. Antonia is the Toronto police's dream - she would leave the car keys by the door.

After this ask, I want to put this conversation to bed. While I’m responding here, this isn’t just a direct reply to the ask. I’m also adding a few points that I think are worth considering.

Frustration about privacy and safety is understandable, and I think it’s something fans and people in general should care about. That said, social media posts aren’t always reflective of real-time events. Luke could’ve been at the restaurant a few days ago, for all we know. While it’s probably recent, it doesn’t have to mean it happened the same day or even the day before. Maybe it was their last meal in Rome, and they’re already on their way out? Who knows? It’s hard to say what actually happened when we’re only working with the smallest of information.

Speculating about what might happen next or assigning blame doesn’t really change much, though. At the end of the day, people make their own choices about what they post on social media, and it’s up to them to deal with whatever comes from that.

That said, if I were in Antonia’s position, I probably wouldn’t post stories like that. It just feels like it adds fuel to an already lit fire, and it doesn’t seem necessary. Even though I don’t think fans reactions should always dictate what someone posts, if I saw that my posts were causing unnecessary stress for people who support someone I care about, I’d stop doing it. There are so many other things that could share without sparking this kind of frustration. It just doesn’t seem worth it to me.

This goes out to everybody: If following her or engaging with her posts is stressing you out, I really think it’s worth considering stepping away. If continuing to follow her and watching what she posts is upsetting you, it might be better for your peace of mind to disengage altogether.

I've said this multiple times before, it’s natural to question these things, but we don’t actually know the full story or their dynamic. Speculating can sometimes create more drama than peace.

And finally, I have to admit, the 'Toronto Police’s dream' line did make me chuckle!

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: uhhhh smut

Words: 2.5k

[A/N: russian very kindly corrected by soln, ly<3, tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao

Previous Next

Chapter 6: Big-headed? (NSFW)

The corridor leading to Heimerdinger's office was markedly narrower and longer than the others at The Academy, as though he was covertly attempting to thwart visitors. It didn’t stop you, however, and as you found out when you got there, it hadn’t stopped Viktor either. It made sense that, at one point in his life, long before you even met each other, these halls must have been a habitual destination. His close-knit relationship with the professor also showed itself confidently in the volume of his voice, a line that, despite your frustration with the situation, you’d never dare to cross.

You had every intention of staying put and waiting for him to come out, but the half-open door compromised your presence, and given that you were almost certainly there to make a fuss about the same issue, you decided to get it done and over with; after all, perchance Viktor's presence there could give your argument a compelling edge.

"Well, I’m glad you were able to join us at last, dear. I trust you are feeling better." Heimerdinger started.

“I’m okay; yes, thank you for the concern, professor. I should say I have a surmise that I am here for the same reason as him."

“Yes, I was trying to argue that our work styles do not meld well, and making us work together for any period of time greater than 5 minutes could be catastrophic; would you confirm as much?”

“Absolutely, I can do the work all on my own if that’s necessary; just don't make me work with him.”

“Interestingly enough, he has offered to do the same. Although I do commend both of you for your altruism, I must insist. This is what the Academy has decided.”

“Professor, if I may—"

“Enough delays, my boy; the decision is final. If I were you, I would get to it immediately; you have only a couple of hours to work.” You were swiftly rushed out the door by him, swept away by tiny, impatient footsteps and a heavy wooden door closing behind you.

Another door closed right on your faces when the sweet librarian denied you access on the pretense that your arguing had inconvenienced a whole two people the past couple of weeks, and you were now banned from using the premises at the same time. You had to compromise and go in by yourself to get the books you needed and then go all the way to the half-empty and uncomfortably cold cafeteria tables, where you worked tirelessly until you were yet again kicked out once the place closed. 

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

A couple infectious yawns and rubbed eyes later, you leaned back on the stiff plastic chair and stretched your back.

“What time is it?”

“Past 9.” Viktor answered after lazily turning around to try to make out what the clock read. You groaned loudly.

“We’ll need to move again—my dorm or yours?"

“Mine is probably cleaner.”

“Are you implying I’m messy?”

“No, I am affirming as much.”

“Rude.” You were offended, though only as a habit, because he was not entirely wrong.

“Oh no, have I offended you? Someone put me out of my misery!” He dramatized.

“I’d be first in line.” You said already standing up and walking in the direction of his dormitory.

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

“Not everything needs to be done your way, you know?"

In the wake of the cafeteria work stretch, you had found yourselves completely spent and depleted. With most of the work done and text written, you had taken some minutes to stretch and rest your eyes. Viktor had informed you as soon as you got there that it was imperative that you were as silent as possible, given the next-door neighbor's propensity to complain about noise.

You did your best to keep it down, of course, and granted, you had been doing a particularly good job. That is, until Viktor decided to wonder who between the two of you would be the one actually giving the speech with the material you had prepared. Although you did your best to ask him politely at first, his immediate negative response caused you to get defensive.

“I wrote most of the text; why can’t you just do me a favor once?

“It’s not a favor if you have to throw me under a train for it! You know I hate speaking in public, and genuinely, I’m dog-tired of you being so incorrigibly selfish.”

“I’m not selfish, how am I selfish?” You said almost forgetting you had to keep the volume down.

“You never think about any consequences, ever. You can go around saying you are a free spirit and spontaneous and fun as much as you like, but if truth be told, you are nothing but cataclysmic chaos!”

“I don’t make mistakes on purpose, Viktor; it happens; you just have zero empathy because you insist on making everyone believe you are the Academy’s perfect golden boy! You never make mistakes, and you never do anything wrong, right?. But I know all you really do is push people away because everyone is afraid of disappointing you! I don't know. If you were a little less hostile, maybe you’d have some friends."

“You mean friends like you? I’d rather staple my ears together than be friends with a jumbled  mess. He said, standing up from the chair, his nose flaring up as he inhaled a sharp breath and held his cane forcefully. “You are so excruciatingly intolerable, overwhelming, big-headed—”

“Big-headed?"

“That is what you take offense to?”

You couldn’t say anything beyond a dismissive shrug, and you knew your disregard for his opinion was what would sting the most anyway.

The silence was loud; it could be felt in the air between you, the irate flare of irritation in his gritted teeth, his ears colored in that familiar tone of blush, and his eyebrows uncomfortably knit together as he whisper-screamed at you. He took a couple steps forward, leaving you at no farther than a palm's distance. The sudden closeness somehow did not bother you; you could hear both of your breaths, heavy and panting from the strain of containing your screams, and you could tell by the heat you felt all over your head and stomach that your cheeks probably mirrored the flush on Viktor’s face.

In hindsight, you never really understood why you didn’t talk back to him after that last comment. You had so many things in mind you could have said, but an unknown force pulled your attention away from his amber eyes glowing with rage to his lips instead, which were a bloody cherry red from biting on them too much. You couldn’t look away, and Viktor quickly noticed.

Then his shoulders visibly lost tension.

"Ah…prydoruk,” he whispered, mostly to himself, and you wished you understood because it somehow felt like another insult. Perplexity became fright when the loud clang of his cane falling directed your eyes to the floor, but in an instant, both of his hands were holding your face firmly, and one of them slithered in between the locks of your hair.

You hated how fast your guard fell. His fingers, icy yet delicate, caressing the lines of your jaw, were enough to disarm you completely. You mouthed multiple offenses at him under your breath as you searched for his lips. You were agonizingly in need of each other’s taste. Your hands had a strong grip on his shirt, tugging at it unintentionally as your body, which desperately wanted that idiot, tried to gripe with your rationality. The war in Viktor’s mind was a similar one, but just as much as yours, his body was unable to pull back.

Eventually you needed to catch your breath from the kiss, beyond hungry, and when you pulled back just slightly, you looked at each other like two deer in headlights, frozen in place by a blend of contradicting emotions that prevented you from moving and still holding each other closely. Viktor moved first, and when he kissed you again, you could feel his hands move almost on their own, going against his orders to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him. He felt his lungs grow hungry for air as his tongue buried itself deep inside your throat.

“Stop pulling," he tried to whisper in between kisses. You shushed him, bringing a finger up to his lips, and started leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone. “If you tear my shirt, I—” He tried once again, but your lips got to his neck at the same time, and his sentence changed into a muffled groan.

“I won’t. Just shut up; don’t make me think too much about this; just sh—”

“So crass,” he said as he walked backwards to the bed, pulling you along with him. “You’re so unpleasant."

“You have history that says otherwise, asshat."

You already had a leg on the bed, fully intending to push him on it to straddle his lap, but he moved faster than you could think and shifted to hover above you. He crawled up slowly without ever stopping the deep kiss you were sharing and used one of his knees to push your legs apart, positioning himself between them. You tried not to react, but the feeling of his erection against you prompted a slight chuckle to come out of your throat. 

“If this is how you get when I’m unpleasant, I can’t imagine what could happen if I were nice to you.” you smirked. He sank his teeth against your skin in response, leaving a small bite mark on your collarbone before he whispered.

“You are not funny, Zaychik."

“You’re just humorless." You said this as you pulled his shirt over his head. This must have been the open invitation he was waiting for to introduce a hand under your dress, completely bunching it up to gain precious access to your bare chest.

Although the energy of the room had shifted noticeably, the pooling heat in between you never replaced the ravenous disposition. You still felt the frustration in him as he bit into you multiple times, leaving a wake of purple and red bruises you would have to explain the next day. You didn’t know if his motivations were guided by a fit of lust or if it was a way to punish you for all of the irritation you had caused him throughout the years of knowing each other; either way, it felt good, and you did not care to keep pondering.

His hand trickled down to your underwear in excruciatingly slow designs, one of his eyebrows raising in a self-congratulatory expression when he felt the dampness of the fabric.

“Pat yourself in the back; why don't you?” You said, rolling your eyes. He did not answer, and, to your astonishment, he did not take your underwear off. He took his hand back up, bringing the fingers wet with arousal into his mouth, pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear to reveal a cock you wished you hadn’t gasped at, and pulled your underwear to the side to position himself at your entrance, all without ever breaking eye contact.

Even though he was panting abnormally loud and you could tell he would probably soon burst into a cloud of smoke, he still nodded slightly at you, asking for confirmation, and when you nodded back, he impatiently tilted his hips as far as the position allowed it and his leg could withstand, plunging into you with hungry zeal. He didn’t start slow; he was incisive and deep with every thrust, making sure he was completely inside you with every move. Calculated bastard

You used both hands around his back to hold yourself steady, your not exactly manicured nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulder blades as you did your best to not make any noises too loud. Down on the bed under him, you pondered the dim light in the room and the curious designs of the roof. They might as well have been figments of your imagination, swirls of light and haziness as your eyes filled with tears.

You confused the erratic rhythm of his hips for what you thought at first was the arrival of his unraveling and immediately realized was simply his leg tiring out, and you gathered enough momentum to push him off of you, his back now on the bed, and you were ready to ride him. Long overdue, you thought, you couldn’t let him get his way with you without having a mirriad of his whimpers to your name. Your pace wasn’t slow either; you drove him into you with the roll of your hips, making sure you could feel him in the right spots.

The look of enamoured trance on his face as you bounced on his lap was far from the vexed expression you were expecting, and the suppressed groans of pleasure touched something in you that made you suddenly bashful. You leaned over to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck and pressed your lips against his when his grin was getting too wide for comfort. You devoured each other again for what felt like too little time before you could feel the overwhelming heat in your core preparing you for your climax.

You tried to tell Viktor you were about to come, but something in your face must have made that obvious, because he brought you close again by the back of your neck, your mouths nearly touching each other as he spoke.

“Say my name,” he murmured into your mouth.

“Yeah, right”

The hand on your neck slithered its way up to your hair, which he tugged at firmly.

“Say it; I know you’re close.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, neither of you being able to contain a half-pleasure, half irritation, out-of-breath groan.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt the brief pain and sweet spasm that followed it, and Viktor revealed the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock. You took a second to compose yourself with your forehead pressed against his, and then gave him a devilish grin as you slid down to his lap. His eyes opened wide when you pressed the heat of his erection flat on your tongue, taking it in as far as you could manage.

His head shot back and his face contorted in pleasure, the hand that hadn’t left your hair oscillating between pulling at it harshly and gently caressing your head. You tasted him, salty, in your throat soon enough, and sat up after swallowing every drop of it. Viktor drew you back to him, and you laid there next to each other, avoiding eye contact, even though you were too high from your orgasms to feel any regret yet.

‘Yet’ came soon enough, though.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

werewolf!steve ficlet snippet from last week's wip wednesday poll!

btw, this all started from my tags on this post lmao

Robin chuckles again, lower in volume this time, and he prepares himself for whatever shit he’s gonna get from her about this. Steve asking the subject of his relatively new gay bi panic turned full-blown crush why exactly he’d be into him right to his face has got to be like Christmas coming early to her.

“It’s the whole claiming thing too, alright, don’t get me wrong, but it's also the..” Eddie’s face shifts into embarrassment and his cheeks tinge pink, as if what he’s about to say is the more embarrassing part than the horny biting thing (Steve’s read a few fics in his time too, sue him.), “The Belonging thing. Like, they picked you to be a part of their family, their ‘pack’.” he emphasizes the word with his fingers. “I like the whole chosen family part….” he says, quietly, then his face switches out of embarrassment, going back into confidence in a blink, “But a full-hearted “Yes!” to the whole staking their claim thing. Also definitely that.”

The others groan, the sound morphing into laughter, and Steve thinks he’s off the hook about answering. Until.

“So? Steve?”

Damnit Robin.

“I mean..” Steve’s face burns hot again, the initial flush that had managed to die off coming back full force. “I don’t know about the whole claiming thing, I’m not into biting,”

‘Getting bitten,’ he corrects in his head, ‘Biting, however..’ leaving his mark on someone, the bright red imprints of his teeth standing out against the pale skin of their—the… hypothetically pale skin of their throat (and hypothetical long dark-brown curls too maybe).

He shakes off the thought, “I can definitely understand the family part though, ‘d be nice to be chosen and be chosen forever.”

“See? Exactly! Steve gets it!” Eddie says, grinning and gesturing wildly at him.

Steve’s probably the only one who doesn’t miss the low shuffling sounds of Jonathan and Nancy squirming where they sit.

“The rest of you don’t understand,” Eddie continues on, standing up and turning to walk out of the room. “But believe me, when I find out werewolves are real,” He stops at the back of the armchair Steve’s settled himself in and puts both his hands on Steve’s shoulders, squeezing slightly, “You’ll be the first one I tell, big boy.” He pats the side of Steve’s face with one ringed hand, then turns out the open doorway and down the hall.

“When?” Steve manages to say.

“When!” Eddie calls back, and Steve hears the bathroom door click shut.

“What a goofball,” Nancy says, shaking her head and standing up herself, straightening her shirt and wandering over to Steve’s record player.

Steve can feel Robin vibrating from across the room, so he sighs, stands, and says, “I gotta fix the pool. Bobs, you wanna.?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.” she says, way too excitedly, and follows him past the dining table to the sunroom and out the back sliding door.

As soon as her foot hits the concrete patio, she starts.

“Holy shit!”

“Shhh! Shut up!”

vote here for which fic i should focus on in the next week!!

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

What’s That Van Halen Song?…

Summary- An opportunity for some extra college credit lands you tutoring a few students from Hawkins High, and it seems like one of them has a little more trouble than the rest.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23

(Tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 2.9k

You sighed sitting at your usual table in the library, waiting for the next student. Ever since you graduated and started your classes at the community college, you’ve found a little extra time to help out the other students at Hawkins High. It was always nice when you had the college tutors help you out with your classes and you figured it was best to keep up with the tradition. After all, with their help you were able to graduate.

You opened up one of your notebooks and started scribbling away, wanting to try and kill some time as you waited and waited. Usually you never had to wait this long for someone to show up. It was always maybe a 5, 10 minutes maximum wait, but there was only one student you knew always showed up late.

“Hey! Sorry I’m-“ Eddie said to you as he approached your table, not before being cut off by the librarian shushing him to keep his voice down, “Sorry i’m late.” He said quietly.

He pulled out the chair next to you and set a few notebooks and folders onto the table.

“It’s alright,” You gave him a smile, “were you able to get that last test back?”

Eddie nodded quickly and opened up the folder in front of him, flipping through the various papers that were stuffed into it. You watched as his fingers moved through the scattered quizzes and exercise sheets, and you even noticed a few doodles on them, little dragons and demons and swords. For someone the same age as you, it really seemed like he never grew out of the same things you saw from the freshmen you helped tutor. Still scribbling little doodles on his papers, still getting sidetracked and distracted when you were trying to teach him, he was just a big kid. As cute as it was, you knew something had to change if he wanted to graduate on time.

“Um… Alright, here it is-“ He finally found the test he had been searching for in his jam packed folder, “-and here’s a quiz we took beforehand.” He placed the two pieces of paper onto the table and you moved them closer to you to compare his work.

“Alright, so you got a 73% on the quiz, which is a lot better than last time! But you only got a 70% on this test Eds, did you look over it and figure out some things you did wrong?”

“Yeah,” He nodded and moved a bit closer to you, pulling the test towards him to show you his work, “I think for number 3 i just forgot to carry the 2? And for this one, number 7, i forgot which equation is used for this type of graph so i kind of just winged it…”

“Eddie…” You said to him in the same disappointed voice you’d heard nearly a million times beforehand from your own parents, “we spent the last few sessions studying for this test! I know you’re smarter than just a 70%. Did you ask if you can do anything to bring the grade up?”

“Yes! Mr. Jackson said that if i came back tomorrow with a full corrections sheet on the problems i missed then he’ll give me back half points for all of them.”

“That’s great! See, even he knows you’re smarter than a 70%.”

Eddie smiled to you. He hasn’t really gotten this kind of treatment from someone like you before. You were the same age and he didn’t feel any differently towards you than he did the other people his age. But you were different. You were someone who encouraged him to do his best, even when his best isn’t perfect. He had to admit he had a slight little schoolboy crush on you, but with you being so sweet to him how could he not?

You were smart, independent, someone who knew exactly what you wanted and that’s what he strived for. He wanted to be able to live his life the way you lived yours. Carefree.

The two of you had plenty of conversations that didn’t surround his classes, and from the few things he knew about you he knew you would be a pretty cool person. Hell, if you went to Hawkins with him he could’ve sworn he’d have done better just to be able to go off to college with you and not have to leave your friendship behind.

He liked you. And he was certain that if he knew a little more about you he may even love you.

“Eddie?” You asked him with a giggle, pulling him out of his trance.

“Hm? What?”

“I asked you to show me all the ones you got wrong so we can work on them.” You giggled again.

Situations like this weren’t uncommon with Eddie. Every time he lost his train of thought or get sidetracked you always figured he just had a difficult time paying attention, which is what led to his grades being how they were. But every time you caught him losing track of whatever it was you were saying he had the littlest twinkle in his eye when he was looking at you.

He moved his chair closer to you and flipped through the packet of papers to show you each question he had missed, and thankfully it was only a few.

“Alright, so i know that we’ve gone over a this stuff right before you took this test, i have a couple of things to look through from the other kids i tutor, do you think you can try to do your corrections without my help first?”

“I think i’ll be able to.”

“I think you will too,” You said to him with a smile, “do it yourself first, and when you’re finished i’ll look over it with you to see if you’re still struggling.”

Eddie nodded with a smile and took his papers back, opening up his notebook and turning to a blank page to start on his corrections. You opened up one of your folders and took out a few papers to look over as Eddie started fixing his work. Every now and then you’d glance over at Eddie to check on how things were going and he’d quickly adjust himself in his chair, turning his eyes back onto his paper and working on whatever problem he was stuck on.

You’d give him a little smile each time you looked up, and it was quite cute to see him get a bit flustered. For someone who looked like he did, it was a pleasant surprise for him to act this way.

When you first started tutoring him, you had to admit it was a little nerve wracking. He was older than any other high school student you’ve known, and thought it felt a little strange to be tutoring someone your own age, those feelings soon faded once you really sat and got to know him.

He was kind, passionate, he was someone who had been a lot nicer to you than some of your own peers at school. And you could see from helping him through his classes that he was smart. He had an amazing imagination and he excelled when it came to story building, and it showed in a few of his DnD campaigns he had told you about.

It was just math that he really struggled with.

When you glanced back over at him after looking through and editing another essay from one of the other students, you could see him staring off at the paper in front of him, making little doodles in the corner. He always had the worst attention span. You focused in on the little doodles he was doing in the corners of his paper and it seemed like the strangest thing for him to be drawing.

Hearts. Hearts of all different shapes and sizes, a few with arrows in them, a few big hearts filled with little ones. All of them surrounding one bigger heart, with something scribbled right there in the middle, but before you could get a good look at whatever he has scribbled in the center you went right back into tutor mode,

“Eddie.” You said to him in a stern tone, wii joy getting his attention as he looked over to you, his hand covering up his little doodles in the corner, “I thought you were doing your corrections?”

“I am! I’m just… taking a break.”

You looked over to his notes and saw that he had already worked through three of the questions he missed,

“Tell you what, you get five of those finished and we’ll take a break, ok? Just please try and focus on your work.”

“I will! I’m focusing, see,” He turned the page of his notebook and began working on another problem, “focused.”

You chuckled and went back to your work, looking over the other students papers as Eddie did his best to finish up the last two problems before your break. However, just as you put away one paper to grab the next, you could hear the eraser of Eddie’s pencil tapping onto the paper of his notebook.

You glanced over to him and saw him gently bobbing his head, his lips mouthing out a few words as his curls bounced back and forth, following the rhythm of the eraser against the paper. He had only one more problem to do, but his attention span was really affecting his work.

“Eddie.” You said to him again, stopping his motions as he looked to you once again, “We really have to fix that attention span of yours.” You said with a giggle, reaching over to grab his notebook to check his work, but he quickly snatched it back.

“Wait! I’m not finished yet, one more to go right?”

“Yeah, but if you’re gonna get distracted i can at least check what you have done so far. I’m sure you’re doing fine! Just let me look-“

“No.” He gripped it tightly in his hand.

“What do you mean no? I’m sure you did fine, just let me see.”

You reached your hand out for him to give you the notebook and he reluctantly handed it off to you, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at the desk as you flipped through the pages. You finally found the page with his corrections, the little hearts in the corner were a dead giveaway. It was when you saw what was scribbled in the middle of that big heart that you understood why Eddie was so reluctant to give you the notebook.

There, right in the middle of the heart in his notebook, were your initials. EM + (f/i)(l/i).

You looked over at him in his seat, not giving away any indication that you had spotted the initials, and saw the bright blush on his cheeks.

It was finally starting to click.

The way he had acted around you in the past, the way that he would hang on to every word you said as it left your lips. He had paid attention to every single thing you told him at every tutoring session, and even though he knew this stuff like the back of his hand, he was back every week. With you.

You smiled a bit and giggled to yourself, Eddie glanced over at you with a scared look in his eye. He was hoping it wasn’t him you were laughing at,

“What?”

You slowly closed the notebook and placed it onto the table between you, looking over to him with a smile on your lips,

“You never needed my help with your classes, did you?”

He got silent, his cheeks a bright red, knowing you had him all figured out. He gently shook his head as he looked back down at the table, too embarrassed to look up at you.

A little smile formed on your lips as you thought over all the past tutoring sessions you’d had with him. Each and every time you’d notice his little glances, the way he would pay such close attention to your voice and still have a hard time with his work, and no matter how long you had worked together to bring his grade up he always brought in something new he was struggling with. It all made so much sense, and you felt like an idiot for not being able to notice it before.

He had a crush on you.

He had a crush on his tutor.

You giggled, placing your hand over your lips to try and stifle it, not wanting to embarrass him any more than he already had been,

“I’m sorry, i don’t mean to laugh, i just…” Your mind kept wandering back to all the times you had heard Eddie humming and tapping along on his notebook, each and every time you had heard it, it was all the same melody. The same song. You knew exactly what it was, you just couldn’t put your finger on it,

“What’s that Van Halen song?”

He finally looked up to you, the corners of his lips curling into a gentle smile,

“Which one?”

“You know the one. The one you’ve been humming every time you come to see me?”

“Oh, yeah,” You finally got a laugh out of him, “Hot For Teacher?”

“Yes! That’s it, that’s the one!”

The librarian at the front desk looked over to the two of you and put her finger over her lips, signaling for you both to quiet down. You gave her a nod and a quick and quiet ‘Sorry’ before going back to Eddie,

“You must really like that song, hm?”

“Well…” Now he was getting bashful, “It’s not a favorite, but i always think of it whenever i come to see you.”

You smiled with one another, though Eddie was still unsure of your feelings towards him. You knew he liked you, and though it felt very strange to have one of your students have a crush on you, you knew it was innocent. Hell, if he wasn’t a student you’d go out with him in a heartbeat, but not now. Not like this.

“I think that’s sweet. But you didn’t have to have your grades suffer just to spend time with me, we could’ve always just hung out if you asked.”

He was taken back, eyes widening,

“Really? All i had to do was ask?”

You nod and giggle as he leans back in his chair,

“Well shit, if i knew that i wouldn’t have fucked my algebra grade up this bad.”

“How bad is it?” You asked him, though he gave you no answer, only looking back down at the table, “Eddie.” You said more sternly.

“…63% in the class.”

“Eddie!”

The librarian looked over at you two once more, this time her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She didn’t even have to say a word for you to quiet down.

“Eddie,” You whispered to him, “you’re so close to graduating, why would you mess your grade up that bad?”

“I don’t know, i just like being able to spend time with you.”

You sighed and smiled to him. Though it was always nice to be able to see him and spend time with him after school in the library, you knew he was so much smarter than this.

“I’ll tell you what, because i know you’re smart enough to get at least an 80% by yourself wirh these corrections and the next few assignments, how about we make a deal?”

He looked to you strangely,

“What kind of a deal?”

You smiled and tore a little piece out of his notebook, grabbing your pen and scribbling down your phone number on it,

“When you graduate, if you get higher than an 80% in this class, i’ll take you out on a date. Sound good?”

He perked up immediately, not expecting you to be so upfront. He nodded quickly, still not being able to say much. He was still a little embarrassed.

“Good. Here,” You handed him the little slip of paper, “if you actually need help with something, go ahead and call me. And make sure you let me know when you graduate ok?” You smiled to him as you saw the pink on his cheeks, he mouthed the number in his hand to himself as you stood up and started collecting your things.

“Wait, are you going?” He asked you as you placed your few notebooks and folders into your bag.

“Eddie, you and i both know you’re smart enough to get all those corrections done on your own.” You stood up from your chair and pushed it in as you slug your bag over your shoulder, “And remember, if you do need help, you have my number.”

He nodded again and straightened himself in his seat, opening up his notebook to the next blank page and starting his corrections once more. All he really needed was a push in the right direction, and he was glad you were the one to help him get there.

You gave each other a smile and a quiet wave as you made your walk out of the library, only to quickly turn back. You approached Eddie once more, pushing his bangs back and giving him a kiss onto his temple,

“You’re gonna do great. This is your year, remember?”

He looked up to you and you could see just how much that meant to him.

After all this time, after everything you’ve heard about him, after all the times you’ve had to get him back on track after getting distracted or showing him the same problem solving methods nearly a hundred times, you still didn’t give up on him. You made him want to work his hardest.

He wanted to finish this year, finally, all for you.

[forcemeanakin]

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part One - Part Two

Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?

Word count: 4.1 K.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 

Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!

“You missed dessert.”

It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.

You were here, in his workshop. 

With actual pie.

“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.

You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up. 

“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”

Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.

“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine. 

“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.

“You’ll miss me.”

Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.

“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing. 

“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”

He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.

“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.

He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”

Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.

“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.

So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.

“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”

Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again. 

His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down. 

It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face. 

On your lips. 

Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.

“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.

Was he going to do it? Take the next step?

Would he dare?

Would you dare?

Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”

Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.

His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.  

When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.

“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”

Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker. 

“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin. 

Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate  at the same time.

You hated that question, it embarrassed you. 

“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.

“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head. 

Oh.

Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.

It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.

“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”

The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.

“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”

Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was... 

That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.

“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there. 

Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core. 

It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.

You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves. 

No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.

“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”

Please don’t. You replied inside your head.

Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.

The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first. 

“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction. 

Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.

If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.

“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm. 

“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”

Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only. 

“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything. 

“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction. 

“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.

Would you dare?

“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over. 

Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life. 

Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?

Right?

Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock. 

“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch. 

You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now. 

So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man. 

And Anakin was exactly that. 

His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard. 

It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.

He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls. 

“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”

You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.

Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.

Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.

It was him shaking you off his system.

“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you. 

“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.

Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue. 

Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.

Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.

Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.

He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you. 

But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…

Just one little push and he would taste heaven.

Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form. 

The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder. 

“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.” 

Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.

Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-

Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.

But things come to an end.

“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself,  “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”

“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him. 

Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.

The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement. 

He would either stay or leave. As simply as that. 

In or out?

When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile. 

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[dadvans]

tidbit tuesday

thanks for tagging @tiltingheartand! more from the trivia series i've been working on from last week:

Sometimes others join them for trivia night. A colleague or two of Tommy’s has come by for a beer with them after a bad shift, but some of the 118 crew is more common. Hen gets the first invite after a surprisingly brutal Anatomy round one week.

Tommy raises a glass to welcome her as she sits down with her own drink, but he nods at Evan sitting next to him. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, joining this guy’s team.”

“What do you mean by that?” Evan asks, then turns to Hen, who starts laughing. “What does he mean by that?”

“Sweetheart, we’re here every week beating teams of five or six people,” Tommy says, rubbing his shoulder, letting his fingers trace down the curve of Evan’s arm.

Evan doesn’t look any less confused or mollified by the explanation. “Yeah, well we didn’t last week.”

They do win handily this week. Evan is back in the zone, but Hen still comes in clutch on a category dedicated to Bluey. She thanks them for a good night after they collect the usual winners’ gift certificate and beers, and then leaves them to the rest of their date.

Tommy orders them a third round at the bar and then closes them out. When he gets back to the table with their beers, Evan’s looking entirely too pensive.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, sliding Evan his beer.

Evan’s nose scrunches, his brow furrows. He sighs and takes a gulp of beer and wipes unthinkingly at his upper lip. The philtrum, he thinks. Evan would correct him if he said out loud. They got that answer wrong last week.

“I know you’re cool with Hen and all,” he says eventually. “You guys are old friends, so you have your own language, but this, I guess— it’s just different than someone coming from Air Ops for a night out. You can joke about me being smart with them, but Hen, she knows me too. She’s in on the joke.”

“Evan. What the fuck are you talking about? What joke?”

“You try to pump my tires a little bit in front of your people, say I’m smart, that we win every week, and it’s sweet. Really. I’m just saying, Hen knows me better than that.” Evan doesn’t even seem like he’s mad. If anything, he sounds embarrassed.

“But you are smart,” Tommy says slowly. “And barring maybe two times, yeah, we usually win over teams twice our size. I’m just saying, even when I get to hold the pen and paper, I’m rarely the one coming up with the answers.”

Evan takes another long gulp of his beer. He sits with it for a second, and then reaches under the table to hold Tommy’s free hand resting on the bench seat.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, but it’s clear that he doesn’t want to fight it because he doesn’t believe it. That’s fine. If Tommy has anything to say about it, someday he will.