Work Text:
You’re really starting to get tired of this shit.
It’s only been three weeks since you opened up your summer daycare, and it’s already been a massive headache. It’s making bank though, mostly because of your inspired foresight to include a late pickup fee. You looked at the math last week, and it’s roughly a 60/40 split for regular fees and late pickup fees.
Back to the matter at hand, however. Your current headache is due to the fact your last client is now two full hours late. You’ve been trying to call him every fifteen minutes, but it keeps going to voicemail. The irritation is only made worse when you have to listen to his stupidly sexy voice every time you leave a new voicemail reminding him that he has to actually pick up his daughter from your daycare.
Said daughter in question is just the cutest little troublemaker. She’s always taking apart something and putting it back together, which normally isn’t an issue. It is an issue, however, when she’s taking apart electric appliances with frankly terrifying speed. You make a mental note to bring that up with her father whenever he actually comes to pick her up. She’s currently occupied by the episode of How It’s Made you pulled up through your jailbroken Firestick. You check your phone for the thousandth time, hoping her father will show up soon as you see there are still no new notifications. As much as you love her, you do actually have things to do tonight. Salvation comes nearly thirty minutes later when your phone rings. You pick it up almost immediately when you see Cid’s name on the call screen.
“Good evening, Mr. Telamon.” You greet, your tone clipped.
“Ahh, it woul’ seem I’ve made a bit of a fuckup.” His voice comes through like whiskey and velvet despite the audio compression.
“Do tell.” You prompt, leaning against the doorway to the daycare’s small kitchen
“You see, I thought Mid’s mother was supposed t’ come pick her up today, but I mixed up the days an’ am stuck at work f’r another hour.” He explains sheepishly, and you can almost picture the look on his face.
You sigh heavily into the receiver, your headache edging into the realm of migraine.
“Which is to say Mid will be picked up when?”
“...An hour an’ a half.” Cid confirms.
“You do know that you’ll owe,” You do the math in your head. “Roughly $200 for today’s charges, right?”
“Fuck, that’s steep. Math checks out though.” He laments. “I’ve got the cash for it, so I’ll pay when I pick ‘er up. If you wan’, I can come pick ‘er up from your place instead of the daycare. I know I’m really puttin’ you out here by having Mid there for an extra four hours past end o’ day, so I’ll do what I can to make it a little easier.”
You weigh the idea in your mind, debating whether it’s worth it to stay here for another two hours or go back home where you at least can collapse after he picks her up. Your decision made, you reply.
“It’d be great to have you pick her up from my place. I’ll send the address shortly.”
“Great, an’ I’m sorry about this. I promise I won’ be this late pickin’ her up again.” Cid sounds genuine, and you can’t help but chuckle at the fact he didn’t promise not to be late again. You’re pretty sure he’s picked her up on time only twice during the past three weeks.
“You’re lucky your daughter’s one of my favorites. Don’t tell the others though.” You joke, unable to keep from teasing him as your gaze flicks to the girl in question to make sure she’s still engrossed by her show.
“She’s the best thin’ to happen to me, the only good thin’ to come from tha’ marriage.” He answers, a smile in his voice. “Ah, shit, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be by to pick her up in two hours.”
“Of course, I’ll see you then, Mr. Telamon.” You reply, ending the call moments later and sending him your address before you forget.
You gather the rest of your things from the daycare, already having tidied the place during the preceding two and a half hours. Mid finishes her episode and goes over to the cubbies to put on her shoes and grab her bag. You make sure she’s got everything and that the place is properly locked up before you leave. You make sure Mid is safely buckled in the backseat before you start the engine of the shitbox you’ve been driving since you left college. The engine sputters to life, and the car judders slightly as you reverse out of the parking spot and pull onto the main road. Mid rambles about the episodes she watched and how the automation intrigued her. You usher Mid into your apartment after jiggling your key in the lock for a few seconds, making a mental note to talk to your landlord about fixing the lock soon.
You put up your shoes, bag, and keys with Mid following suit. Once again, you’re somewhat flummoxed by just how well-behaved a kid she is when you’ve met her parents. Her mother, Benedikta, is shrewd and brusque, one of the few realtors who manages to make a decent living in this shithole city. Cid is…well, he’s Cid. He means well, working in management at the plastic burning plant and freelance electrical work, but he’s prone to forgetfulness and is a bit flighty at times. You were honestly surprised to hear that Benedikta was his ex-wife, given he seemed practically allergic to commitment, but then again, it doesn’t seem like it lasted that long.
Just over an hour later, you hear a knock at your door. Mid immediately bolts over to grab her things, shoving her feet into her shoes. Her excitement mirrors your own relief that you’ll finally have the rest of your evening to yourself. You undo the lock and open the door, seeing Cid standing in the yellowish light from the hall.
“Dad!” Mid cheers as she attaches herself to his leg.
“Hey, how’s my lil grease monkey? Did you behave today?” He asks as a smile stretches across his tired face, his hand coming down to ruffle Mid’s hair fondly.
“She was great as usual. She didn’t dismantle any electrical components today, so better than last week.”
“Sorry again about that. She sees me working on stuff at home or when I take her on jobs. She’s got a knack for engineering work, but she’s not got a handle on work safety just yet.” He looks sheepishly away from you as he explains, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, is it not?” You offer, leaning against the doorframe.
“You may be right about tha’. Mid, go hop in the car. I’ll be right there” He watches her retreat to the car before pulling his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, flipping it open and tugging a handful of bills from within. “Anyway, here’s wha’ I owe for this week, sweetheart.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll make sure to update the ledger when I get in tomorrow.” You smile, tucking the money into your pocket. You’ll count it later, not wanting to commit that particular faux pas today.
“Thank you for bein’ as accommodatin’ as you’ve been with me. Most people would’ve chewed me out or left me out t’ dry in this situation.” He tucks his wallet back into his pocket, hooking his thumbs in the beltloops as he posts up on his hip.
“I know you’re doing your best, so…” You shrug, trying to play it cool. The effect is lessened when you have bring up a hand to cover your mouth as you fail to stifle a yawn.
“Still, you really did me a huge favor tonight. Lemme take you to dinner this weekend?”
“Y-yeah, sure. Does Sunday work?” You ask, cheeks flushed with the sudden offer.
“Sunday’s perfect, sweetheart.” He grins wolfishly, seemingly amused with your show of nervousness. “I’ll pick you up at 7 for dinner.”
“Sounds like a date. Wait, no! Not like that! I meant that sounds like a plan.” The words come out in a fumbled rush as your tired brain is suddenly having to work overtime.
“No worries. I’ll head out, so I can get the little one to bed. You should probably do the same.” He chuckles, taking a step back from your door.
“Good night, Mr. Telamon.” Mortification makes you want to slam the door and bury yourself under the blankets.
“Call me Cid. Mr. Telamon makes me feel old, sweetheart.” He winks, and you’re sure you’re going pass out from lack of blood flow. “I’ll see you Sunday at 7.”
“Right. See you Sunday, Cid.” You manage to keep your voice even, almost breezy, this time as you move to close the door.
Friday and Saturday seem to drag by. The only bright spot is that you’ve been getting texts from Cid, more than just the running late notifications or balance queries. He’s been sending you a few throughout the day if he comes across something bizarre at work or if Mid does something amusing or adorable. He even sent one this morning saying he was looking forward to dinner tonight. You’ll deny to your dying breath that that particular message had you kicking your feet like a teenager again.
Now, however, you’re standing in front of your closet only slightly losing your mind at the prospect of what to wear to dinner. You’re kicking yourself for not asking where you’d be going to dinner, but hindsight’s 20/20. You chew on your lip as you debate between two options. You end up FaceTiming your sister to get her to make the decision. She only gives you a little bit of a hard time at how much you’re overthinking this, but she ends up picking the slightly more casual of the two options. You thank her profusely before hanging up and dressing.
Once you see yourself in the mirror, you know she made the right call. It’s simple but effective: a black off the shoulder peasant top with violet embroidery at the collar and a pair of dark wash jeans tucked into black heeled booties. You turn back and forth to admire the view, wondering why you don’t wear these jeans more often as they make your ass look fantastic. You dig through your jewelry box to find some graded silver hoops that run up the curve of your ear and an amethyst septum ring to complete the look.
Once the door is shut, you let out a low groan as you bury your face in your hands. What the hell is wrong with you? Normally, you’re not like this. You’ve got other attractive clients, but something about Cid has you fumbling over yourself like a teenager again. Even so, you can’t deny that you’re excited for Sunday night.
You’re just finishing tying off your braid as you hear a knock at your door. Looking at the clock, you see it’s just before 7. Grabbing your phone and purse, you check the peephole. You can see standing there, the fish eye view distorting his features somewhat. With that confirmation, you’re throwing the door open with a wide smile.
“Perfect timing, Cid.” You note, stepping out of your apartment.
“I figured I should make an effort to not be four hours late for this.” He jokes, that dazzling smile of his solidly in place as you lock the door behind you.
“Well, it’s definitely appreciated. Make a girl wait that long and you’re likely not to get a second chance.” You quip back.
“Noted.” He chuckles, his gaze raking over you unabashedly. “You look stunnin’, sweetheart. I’ll have the envy of every guy in the place when you walk in with me.”
“Oh, thank you. I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I didn’t want to over or underdress for the occasion.” You admit as he guides you to his car with his hand barely brushing the small of your back.
“We’re headed to tha’ little hole in the wall spot off Slimeball Alley. Found it a few years back, an’ it’s been my go-to pub ever since.” He explains, opening the door for you and gesturing for you to sit with an easy sweep of his arm.
“O’Hooligan’s?” You ask as he gets into the driver’s seat and cranks the car.
“That’s the one.” He confirms.
“I’ve heard good things, especially from some of the other parents at the daycare.”
Dinner goes better than you expected, especially when the bartender had to break up a fight between two guys at the bar. One of them seemed to have drawn a sword from nowhere as the other just started wailing on him with his fists. You find yourself not wanting the night to end, even as your waiter is bringing the check. Cid doesn’t hesitate when he pulls his card from his wallet and hands it to the young man with a smile.
The conversation flows easily between the two of you as he drives, the thick silver rings on his fingers glinting in the sun as it hangs low in the sky. He’s surprisingly gentlemanly as he opens your door and offers his arm as you walk in. It doesn’t feel like an act either, just like he’s a series of conflicting traits that add up to a criminally attractive man. You order your drinks from the bubbly blonde who practically bounces over to your table, Cid suggesting a couple of his favorites from the pub’s menu.
“Sure, I think a last drink or two to round out the night wouldn’t go amiss.” You reply easily, the two beers you had with dinner making you feel a little more confident and bold.
“So, want me to drive you back to your place?” He asks, the words heavier than they seem on the surface as you catch his implication.
“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” He replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He’s just as gentlemanly as he leads you out to the car once again. The ride back is quieter, the air between you a little more tense with anticipation. It only seems to heighten as you lead him back up to your apartment, silently thanking whatever deity makes it so your front door swings open on your first try. Once the door is shut behind the two of you, the energy seems tangible, buzzing like fluorescent bulbs in the air between you.
“Whiskey?” You ask as you gesture towards the kitchen.
“I was thinkin’ of somethin’ a little different.” He replies, his voice low and rumbling as he comes closer.
“Oh, is that so?” You play along, your breath coming in shallow bursts as his fingers come up to brush along your jaw.
“Yes.” He breathes, his breath warm as it washes over your skin.
With his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, Cid angles your face up towards his. His lips meet yours gently, warm and slightly chapped. For a first kiss, it’s relatively tame; however, it quickly devolves as you pull him in closer by his collar. He lets out a sharp exhale and suddenly his lips are bruising against yours, his other arm snaking around your waist to force your bodies together. His tongue slips between your lips, coaxing your own to tangle with his as he deepens the kiss. It slightly sloppy in the best way as he seems to not be able to get enough of you.
“So eager…” He chuckles low in his chest as though you can’t feel the insistent press of his hardening cock against your thigh.
“If I’m eager what does that make you?” You tease back, your free hand moving to palm him through his jeans. The effort is not unrewarded as he breaks away briefly to groan as his hips move instinctively to follow your ministrations.
“Fair-agh, point.” He manages as your fingers wrap around him as best as possible through the tented fabric. He trails his lips in a searing trail down from your lips to your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and making you whine.
“D’you know how hard it was not to just say fuck it t’ dinner and take you right up against that wall when I saw you? Fuckin’ hell, these jeans should be illegal.” Cid growls into the skin of your neck, hands sliding down to roughly grab your ass.
“There’s always next time.” You offer, your head lolling to the side to give him better access. He takes full advantage of it, sucking harshly at the tender skin before laving his tongue over it to soothe the reddening mark left behind.
“On the counter, now.” He orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You eagerly lift yourself onto the counter, goosebumps rising along your thighs as they meet the cool granite surface.
“Good girl…” He purrs as he eases your legs apart to give him room to kneel between them.
“Mmm, let’s see if this pussy is as perfect as the rest of you.” His voice rumbles against the skin of your inner thigh as he runs his broad hands over them before hooking his fingers around the lace and pulling it down slowly. His lips press searing hot kisses to the skin of your hip as he bares the soft skin there.
“So fuckin’ pretty and so wet for me already.” He praises as he runs his thumb from your entrance up to your clit in one languid stroke, your arousal coating the digit easily as your body sparks with pleasure and your breath catches when the rough pad of his finger brushes the underside of your clit.
Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter as you let out a shaky breath, feeling dizzy as his lips trail ever so slowly closer to your core. You simultaneously want to urge him to go faster and to keep his slow pace. It’s driving you mad with need, and you know he knows it too as he whispers praises against your inner thigh. He’s so fucking close to where you need him. You can’t help the small needy whine that escapes you as he lets your panties drop to the floor to be immediately forgotten.
“Damn, sweetheart…” He murmurs as his hands spread you wider before him, your glistening folds fully exposed to him now.
“Please…” You whine. “Don’t tease me, Cid.”
“Well, when you ask so nicely.” He chuckles darkly, his thumb rubbing slick circles around your clit as he draws his tongue up through your slick folds with a groan that sends heat rocketing down your spine.
“Shit!” You cry out as he practically devours your cunt with an almost feverish hunger, lapping up your arousal.
He doesn’t let up, his thumb grinding against your clit more roughly as he spears his tongue inside you, eliciting another shrill sound from you. Your hands grab at his hair and pull the strands tight between your fingers as you try to urge him deeper, your hips bucking up against his face in an effort to get even just a little more friction. His resulting laugh has your grip tightening almost painfully in his hair, but he doesn’t pull away. He merely wraps his lips around your clit, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. One thick finger dips into you, slipping in easily with how wet you are. You shiver as you feel the cool metal of his rings pressing up against your sensitive flesh when his finger sinks fully into you. He sets an easy pace, curling his finger until you cry out his name once more. You can feel his smirk against your skin as he quickly adds another finger, curling them both up into that bit of spongey flesh that has your walls tightening around his fingers. Your head drops back as stars erupt behind your eyelids each time his fingertips brush the spot.
“Cid, don’t-don’t stop!” You plead in a broken voice, your climax barreling closer with every deft flick of his tongue and dexterous curl of his fingers.
To his credit, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he adds another finger inside you, stretching your walls as you desperately ride his hand. It finally becomes too much as he grazes your clit with his teeth as his fingers hit the apex of their thrust. In an instant, you’re at once numb and on fire with your nerves firing in pleasure all across your body. You cum, his name leaving your lips in a senseless wail as he eases you through your orgasm with gentler strokes of his fingers along your spasming walls. He only stops once you’re pushing him away as the overstimulation becomes too much. The lower half of his face is shiny with your arousal, his hair disheveled and wild from your hands grabbing at it mere moments ago.
“Ah, Cid!” You yelp, pulling away as the feeling sends pain arcing through you. “‘M sensitive still.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He mumbles, kowed temporarily.” “Just-fuck, such a perfect little cunt.”
“Fuckin’ delicious, sweetheart.” Cid groans as his tongue laves over his fingers, half-lidded eyes focused on your panting form still braced against the counter above him with your legs trembling as you come down.
He stands again once, wiping the back of his hand across his face before pulling you in for another searing kiss. His tongue presses insistently at the seam of your lips, and you let them part for him. The sour salty tang of your own arousal floods your senses combined with something distinctly Cid. He kisses you like he wants to consume you, like he’ll never have the chance to do so again. It’s dizzying as you struggle to keep up with his fervent efforts. He pulls you tighter to him, the fabric of his jeans rough and abrasive against your sensitive folds as he grinds his hips up against yours.
“Here, how about a little something to take the edge off? That sound good, babe?” You offer, already scooting to get off the counter.
“Yeah?” He asks, his eyes finding yours with a sudden clarity that wasn’t there moments before.
“Yeah.” You confirm, pushing at his hips until he’s now the one leaning against the counter.
A devious smile curls as your lips as you work to undo his belt, the buckle clinking softly in the quiet of your apartment. Cid leans more fully against the counter, content to let you take the reins for a moment. You hastily unzip his jeans, a low hiss leaving him as the pressure briefly increases against his length before decreasing. You don’t bother to fully divest him of his clothing, opting instead to pull his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to give you access to him.
You wrap your fingers around his dick, taking a moment to appreciate the guttural choked off sound the falls unbidden from Cid’s lips as you do. His reddened head is already smeared with precum, slicking your movements as you stroke him from base to tip. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick enough that you’re thankful for his earlier prep. Even then, you’re sure it’s going to be a snug fit, but fuck, if that doesn’t excite you.
“Thought you were supposed t’ be taking the edge off, not teasing me.” Cid quips from where he’s leaned against the counter.
“So eager, babe.” You reply, echoing his earlier words to you. He recognizes it, appreciating the brief moment of sass.
You’re merciful, however, as you wrap your lips around his head. The harsh moan above you and the way his hips buck up into your mouth satisfies a primal part of you. You take him further, your hand stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth just yet. With how thick he is, you can already feel your jaw starting to ache. You feel his hand at the back of your head, seeming more for him to ground himself than to guide you. You pull back until only the head is still inside your mouth, taking a deep breath before endeavoring to take as much of him as you can in one swift movement.
Your efforts are rewarded with a punched out moan of your name as Cid’s grip tightens slightly, and his hips flex to press just that little bit further into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. The motion has you choking slightly, the increased tightness squeezing at his tip drawing another moan from the brunette. You try to relax your throat in an effort to minimize your gag reflex, your tongue flat along the bottom side of his cock as he draws back again.
“F-fuck, ‘m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that, sweetheart, an’ I need to be in tha’ sweet little cunt of yours ‘fore I cum.” Cid says in a low tone even more graveled than his usual voice. You pull off with a small ‘pop’, licking your lips.
“Got a condom?” You ask as he works to shove his pants and underwear to the floor fully.
“Yeah, not really lookin’ t’ have another kid, y’know.” He replies, pulling the foil wrapped package from his pocket and tearing it open with his teeth.
“Bend over, sweetheart.” He orders as he rolls the thin latex over his length.
You comply almost immediately, your chest pressed to the countertop as you watch him over your shoulder. You watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, dragging the tip through your wetness. He covers you with his own body as he leans over, lacing the fingers of one hand with yours as he breathes hard and heavy against your shoulder.
“Cid, just-just fuck me already!” You whimper, pushing your hips back to urge him inside of you. This is one of the few times it doesn’t work as he lets out a throaty chuckle right next to your ear.
“You sure y’know what yer askin’ for?” He asks, barely dipping his head into your hole before pulling back. “‘Cause I don’ wan’ you cryin’ t’me when it’s too much f’r you.”
“Please, need you inside me!” You cry out, tears beading at the corners of your eyes as your body practically trembles with need.
“Well, since you asked s’nicely.” He obliges, pushing his hips forward to sink into your tight heat. You’d been correct earlier in thinking it would still be a stretch even with his fingering you prior to. The slight sting and burn of your walls stretching to accommodate him is almost immediately overwhelmed by the pleasure of him filling you full. You both let out strangled, desperate sounds as he bottoms out, his hips pressed to the plush of your ass.
He holds your hip tightly to brace himself, murmuring something in your ear that you don’t quite catch as he draws out and sinks back into you hard enough to make your ass jiggle slightly with the impact. With that, he sets a bruising pace, the counter digging into the meat of your hips as he fills you ceaselessly.
“So fuckin’ good f’r me…” Cid groans as his breath grows more ragged, his grip on your hip tightening to the point you know there’ll be bruises in the shape of his fingertips come morning. “So tight around my cock, yer practically stranglin’ me, sweetheart.”
You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out as a harsh, pleasured moan as he slams back into you. His pace quickens, the sound of your skin slapping against each other growing louder in your small apartment kitchen. His hand laced with yours suddenly releases you to slip between your thighs and rub rough circles into your swollen nub as his thrusts start to grow more frenzied.
“Cid,’m gonna, oh hell!” You can feel your second orgasm coiling tight in your gut, ready to snap and send you careening into bliss at any moment.
“Do it, come f’r me.” He growls into your shoulder, his index and middle fingers still making tight circles on your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl, wanna feel you clampin’ down on me.”
“Oh, God! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You cry out, feeling that coil in your gut tighten just that little bit more before snapping into waves of pleasure that radiate through you.
“Fuck, jus’ like tha’!” Cid groans, his hips snapping against yours once, twice more before he stills and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he shudders with the intensity of his own release.
You and him stay there, sweaty and panting for a few minutes before he steps back. You stay slumped against the counter, still regaining your breath as he slips off the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash.
“Y’ okay there?” He asks, leaning over the counter to make sure you’re alright.
“‘M fantastic.” You mumble, forehead pressed to the cool countertop as you wait for your legs to feel less unsteady. “Tha’ was…wow.”
“Here, let’s ge’ you t’ bed, sweetheart.” Cid croons, helping you walk back to your bedroom and laying you in your bed carefully.
“Cid…” You reach out for him as he straightens, looking like he’s about to turn to go home. “Stay here. I’ll make you breakfas’ in the mornin’.”
“How c’n I turn down such a temptin’ offer?” He laughs, settling into bed alongside you, throwing an arm over your waist on instinct.
“I hope y’know this doesn’t mean you ge’ a discount on Mid’s daycare when yer late.” You mumble, sleep already pulling at the edges of your consciousness. His rumbling laughter lulls you to sleep as he assures you that wasn’t even a thought he’d considered.
Maybe you could deal with a little more of Cid’s shit if this was the outcome...