#and i guess they haven't actually admitted to liking each other

[jolteonmchale]

Things are lining up too perfectly for Frank and Victoria and it's making me nervous

#she suddenly isn't disgusted by romance? #now the only thing stopping them from dating is the ridiculous age difference #and i guess they haven't actually admitted to liking each other #or if the secret admirer is someone she's actually into #maybe it's collette #OR JACK #frank x victoria #animal control

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)

i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*

Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:

Everything everywhere is queer all at once

Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other

The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.

Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.

God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.

There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me

They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.

Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.

The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.

Terry Pratchett is not fictional.

He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.

They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.

At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.

Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.

During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.

Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.

It's all very queer, just like the fandom.

Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.

They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.

Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.

Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'

It's all ineffably queer my good fellows

Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.

There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.

The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.

There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.

There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.

Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.

The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.

Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.

Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.

Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.

Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.

#good omens #good omens fandom #ineffably queer #good omens summary #good ineffable omens #aziraphale #crowley #azirafell #aziracrow #azirowley #aziraphel #just tumblr things #masochistic fandom #we could have been us #tell me you said no #angel #demon #unforgivable #wall slam #6000 years of pining #queer #lgbtqia #accurately summarised good omens #reblog at your peril to ruin someone else's life #deadbeat parent #absentee parent #aka god #lot of gay eye contact #ineffable husbands #god's plan doesnt exist??

[entitled-fangirl]

Sweet mama.

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel gets baby fever watching the reader play with Tommy and Maria's baby.

Author's note: don't think too hard about the timeline please and thank you. Also, I got baby fever this weekend, so I figured I'd make everyone else have it, too. Also also- I use they/them for the baby since the gender hasn't been revealed in the show

Masterlist

...............................................................

Oh, God. She was all that occupied his mind at the moment. 

Life in Jackson was not exactly what Joel had in mind, but even he'd admit, it had its perks. 

For example, this scene in front of him.

Y/N on the floor of their shared home with Tommy and Maria's baby.

At first, Joel had very much disliked the idea of babysitting for the night when Tommy asked. But how could he have said no when he saw the way Y/N's face lit up at the very thought?

So, he obviously said yes.

But now, here they were actually doing it. 

He was sat on the dusty couch with an old can of beer he had found, sipping occasionally when he fell out of his daydreams. 

How can he not enjoy the way she interacted with the kid?

He had seen just how fantastic she could be with Ellie.

Y/N had been with Joel a little less than Tess had. They had had a rocky start, especially right at the beginning.

She was a friend of Bill and Frank's. And Frank had decided that they should meet.

But he knew telling both parties about it would only cause conflict. 

So, he didn't tell them at all.

Imagine their surprise when unsuspected visitors appeared in the middle of Y/N's and Frank's tea time. 

She pulled her gun on Joel.

Things were tense for a while after that.

But, after some time, they found that they liked each other very much.

Sometimes, Joel worried that they liked one another a little too much.

"You know," Joel finally said to her. "I haven't even been around a kid like this since… well, when it was Sarah, I guess."

She looked up from her spot on the ground as the baby played with the wooden blocks in front of them, "Really?"

He nods, "Don't even know if I remember what to do. Thank God I got you."

She laughs, "You were the one that was a parent. I was just an older sister. That's how I got my experience."

He shrugs, "You have a gift for it."

She smiles, grabbing the 10-month-old. The baby giggles as she lifts them into the air. She walks to the couch, "Here." She holds out the baby to him.

He holds his hands up in surrender, "Nah. You're doing great, Sweetheart. I won't stop ya."

She scoffs, holding the baby close to her chest now with a teasing scoff, "Whatever, Miller."

"I'm serious," He argues, "I like watching you like this. Happy and… God, this looks so fucking natural for you."

"Joel!" She yelled. "Language."

He laughs, "See? You're…" He sighs in thought.

She notices, "What?"

He smiles and shakes his head, "In another world, sweet girl…"

She tilted her head, "Joel, I'm confused."

He stands up, inches from her face now. He gently takes the baby out of her arms and places them in the makeshift playpen. He returns to her quickly.

His arms grab her waist gently. His voice lowers, "If life was different, I'd give you a baby right now."

Her cheeks turned pink, "What?"

He laughs as he buries his face into her neck, "Think about it. You'd be a beautiful mother. God, I'd give you a baby."

Her gaze started to turn hopeful. She had never thought about having a baby. 

Her thoughts turned dirty as he started to kiss up her neck slowly.

"A sweet mama." Kiss. "Walking around here with my baby in you." Kiss. "Making every man in here green with envy." Kiss. "You'd be so pretty like that." Kiss. "God, you'd just glow more than you do now."

"Joel…?"

He pulled away at her weak voice.

She looks away in thought. "Do you think… if… if this whole 'cure' thing works with Ellie… You think there may actually be a world we could have a baby in? Where… we could be parents?"

He takes in her features carefully, not realizing just how much his words had affected her. "Well… I… I don't know." 

She nods and pulls away from him completely, her wishful thinking over, "Right." She walks back to the baby in the playpen, "Not worth even hoping for."

He pulls her back into his firm chest, and circles her waist with his arms, "Hey. Don't say that. We'll just… leave it on the back burner. Yeah?"

She nods. "Back burner. Okay."

The two watch the baby in front of them play happily, blissfully unaware of the world they all lived in.

…

Y/N sat in the backseat with an unconscious Ellie.

She was still shaking at the sight of seeing Joel in a murderous rage in the hospital.

She knew he was protective of her and Ellie but she had never seen him do anything like that before.

She cradled the girl's head carefully in her lap, gently running her fingers through Ellie's greasy hair. 

She looked up to catch Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Guess we're not getting that cure, are we?"

He shook his head, "Guess not."

"Say goodbye to the chance at parenthood." She sighed.

They sat in silence for a while.

She watched Ellie carefully to check for signs of her waking up.

And she heard Joel's light chuckle.

She looked up, "What?"

He looked at her though the mirror again, "Nothing, sweet mama."

"I'm not… this is…" She glanced down at Ellie, and back up at Joel. 

She smiled slowly as she reveled in Joel's observance.

"I guess…" she noted, "I guess we've already been doing it."

Joel nodded, "Guess it really was made for you."

................................................

#fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction

[wheeboo]

little stars | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which you find a beauty mark on your boyfriend that you haven't seen before. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, reader has a birthmark on their neck and beauty marks of their own!! (tad bit self-indulgent cuz i have a kinda obnoxious birthmark on my neck), soonyoung makes a tiny suggestive joke WORD COUNT. 1.7k

"You have a mole on your neck."

Your words were enough to catch Soonyoung's attention, and he looks up to you all of a sudden, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of you perched on top of the bathroom counter and peering in his direction. His hand stops mid-brush in his mouth, and he blinks at you with toothpaste foam still lingering at the corners of his mouth, and it all makes for such a cute, endearing sight.

"A mole?" he repeats, voice muffled by the toothbrush. He spits into the sink, rinses his mouth, and turns to face you with an intrigued look.

"Yeah, right there. It's a tiny one," You say giddily, chuckling at his reaction, before pointing to the spot on your own neck to give him a reference, and he's immediately trying to look at himself in the mirror. "It's cute, actually. You've never seen it before?"

Soonyoung squints at his reflection in the mirror, craning his neck to get a better view.

"I... I guess I just never paid much attention," he admits, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

You tilt your head in thought, still watching the way he inspects his own neck. The beauty mark on his neck was indeed microscopic to the eye, but now you can add it to the little mental list in your head of little quirks that make your adorable boyfriend who he is. Plus, it's another spot you can pay a tiny bit more attention to when you want to shower him with affection.

"Okay, wait, come here." You motion for him to come up to you, and he complies immediately.

As he stands in front of you in between your legs, you dangle your arms on his shoulders, and his hands instinctively come to your waist. Then you gently tilt his head, guiding him to expose the spot on his neck. Your fingers graze the mole lightly, tracing its outline with a feather-like touch. Soonyoung shivers slightly at the contact, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

With a faint, teasing smile, you bring him closer to you so you could softly plant a kiss on the spot where his mole resides. Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat, momentarily frozen by the brief touch of your lips on his skin. When you pull back, his eyes meet yours, the bathroom light reflecting in them like a constellation, and there's a softness in the way he looks at you.

"I have... other ones too, you know," he mutters quietly.

You quirk up a brow, smirking smugly. "Oh, I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Like..." You turn his head just slightly, leaning in close with your warm breath hitting his skin, making him shiver. "You have one right here on your ear." Then you shift him back to face you, and your hand makes his way to the sleeve of his shirt, and you lift it up a bit so his bicep and shoulder is exposed. "You have another one right here."

Each touch upon his skin makes Soonyoung feels he's discovering more about himself than he ever has. Sure, he's known he has beauty marks on him, but they've never received this much attention before, and it feels surprisingly intimate and sweet. The small act of appreciation makes his heart swell in his chest.

"And here," You continue, tracing the outline of another hidden detail on his forearm. "You have a tiny freckle. I bet you didn't even notice it."

Soonyoung can't help but grin dorkily. "You've been studying me," he accuses playfully.

There's a mischievous yet innocent look to your face as you respond, "Maybe a little."

There's a pout to his face when you bring your eyes back up after you point out the little stars on his skin. Your words, not his𑁋he absolutely melted at your words when you first mentioned it. His hands are still positioned on your waist, rubbing in place there up and down soothingly.

"I... I feel like a bad boyfriend now," he murmurs, almost in shame.

Worry etches across your face; the smile to your lips drops a little. "Why's that?"

"Well, I..." He pauses, and you see the way his cheeks darken with a slight blush. "I-I want to study you too."

It's a lot more than just that too, but it's hard to exactly voice that without sounding weird. He wants to commits every part of you to his memory, to make sure he never misses a spot, that every detail of you receives the love it deserves. He wants to know the little stories behind your freckles, the histories etched in your scars if you'd let him𑁋just, all simply and humanely, you.

Your heart flutters at his words, a certain warmth spreading through your body, and you reach your hands to cup his face lightly. A soft smiles plays at your lips as you lean in to plant a small kiss to his mouth, and it seems to fade away the sulkiness to his face.

"Baby, you're not a bad boyfriend at all," You reassure him. "And... you can study me too. You have all the time in the world to do so."

A genuine, even eager smile tugs at his lips, and he leans in for another lingering kiss. You can taste the remnants of mint from the toothpaste on his lips. His hands slide from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer. When you finally pull away, the two of you a bit breathless, nothing but contented grins play on both of your faces.

"Okay, let's start with the obvious." You angle your head a bit so he could see the birthmark to your neck. "You already know about this one."

He does. He knows it very well𑁋it's one of his favourite spots to kiss.

Soonyoung leans in, mirroring your earlier actions. His lips meet the delicate skin of your neck, a gentle kiss planted on the birthmark. It's a tender, affectionate gesture that sends a shiver down your spine and a giggle to escape from you, and you notice the satisfied look to his face when he pulls away.

"There's a mole here. On my cheekbone." You point to a faint, small one on your face, just a little bit below the edge of your eye.

You feel the way his finger traces the beauty mark with the pad of his thumb. The soft touch sends a tingling sensation through your skin, and even more so when he presses yet another peck to the spot, his lips lingering for a moment longer.

"And then, um..." You bring your index finger to the collar of your shirt, lowering it down to reveal another very small beauty mark on your collarbone. "There's another one right here."

His eyes light up with curiosity as he follows the path of your finger. Then he leans in, kissing the spot to your exposed skin very delicately, like a promise. Your breath hitches as his lips meet your collarbone, the tender touch sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Soonyoung's eyes remain fixed on the spot he just kissed, his expression nothing short of adoration.

"Are there more?" he asks excitedly.

His curiosity makes you chuckle. "Of course there are more." Without hesitation, you lift up your shirt slightly to reveal another beauty mark above your navel. "Here's one that's been hiding."

Soonyoung's eyes light up with excitement as he lowers himself down to inspect the newly revealed beauty mark. He traces the outline with the tip of his finger, committing its shape to memory.

"Pretty," he whispers, before placing a gentle kiss on the hidden mark.

"Are you just going to kiss every single one?" You tease, a playful glint in your eyes as he comes back up to you.

"Hmm, it's how I remember where they are." And it's another way of saying, I see you, every part of you, and I love it all, he thinks.

His response makes you laugh, a melodic sound that fills the bathroom with warmth and comfort. Soonyoung looks up at you fondly with a playful twinkle in his eyes, and you can't help but admire the genuine joy that radiates from him. With every kiss he places upon your skin, each one seemingly lasting a bit longer than the previous, you swear your heart can't take much more sweetness.

Yet, you're completely enchanted by the way Soonyoung gazes at you, as if you're the most precious thing in the world, and you find yourself eagerly anticipating the next one.

"I think I've memorized all of you now," Soonyoung claims, hands coming to rest on your thighs as you pull back from him slightly.

You run a hand through his hair, before cupping his face in your hand. "Really? Already?"

He tilts his head slightly, trying to suppress the chuckle bubbling in his chest, but it doesn't last long at all, and you catch the hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, I... I think I have to practice a bit more, you know..."

A shy smile plays on Soonyoung's lips as he glances down, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your thighs, a hint of a blush colouring his face, and they tint with a deeper shade of pink as he shyly meets your gaze.

"I mean, I don't want to miss any details, you know? It's important." You're important to me, he says in his head.

Gosh, he's so sweet and he's yours𑁋this cuddly, adorable, loveable, affectionate man is yours.

"I don't mind at all," You reply, tapping his nose lightly. "You can take all the time you need."

The curve to his lips is cutely lopsided as he brushes his lips up against yours once more. His hands, which are still resting on your thighs, tighten their grip ever so slightly, not in a possessive manner, but as if he's grounding himself to this very moment, and he wants nothing more than to savour every single second of it.

When he pulls back, you feel the way his fingertips are unconsciously drawing patterns on your thighs.

"I think," he whispers. "this is my favourite part of the day."

You giggle, a light and airy sound that fills the space between you. "Even after all the ramen we had earlier?"

"Well, that was fun, but this..." he hums. "I could get used to this."

You can't tell if he means specifically just kissing and memorizing you, or just being here together in the comfort of his apartment, where once a spare toothbrush had grown to become yours, where the spot by the door became the spot where you also place your shoes next to his, or that the right side of his bed is precisely the spot you always sleep in whenever you come over. Whatever it is, you think you can get used to it too.

"Me too," You confess, trailing your hands up his arms and giving them a little squeeze. "Me too."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #hoshi imagines #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #hoshi fic #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung imagines #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fic

[cherrysnip]

i hate you (affectionately) — jeon wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x reader

content: fluff, college au, tutor!won, junhui is your twin brother

wc: 770

"Hey Y/n? Are you okay? Why do you look so glum?" Your older brother Junhui pinched your cheeks waking you up from your reverie. You just sighed and removed his hand from your face.

"Maybe I really did something bad on my past life to deserve this punishment," you shook your head in dismay. "Why do you even have to suck all the genius blood in our mother's womb and then left nothing for me? What a twin brother you are."

Junhui let out a hearty laugh. He's obviously enjoying this. "So you're being like this because Wonwoo is tutoring you?"

"Do you really have to ask?" you hissed at him. "You could've at least convinced Mom that you'll just be the one to tutor me. You're one of the top students, for God's sake!"

"Yes, but I'd rather not do that because one,” he held up his hand before you and folded a finger. “You're unbearable and you always have a lot of things to complain when I'm teaching you. Two, I have better things to do and three, I'm helping my bestfriend earn his voluntary work hours."

"Just say you love your bestfriend than your own sister."

"I don't. I still love you more. But this might prove beneficial to you in the long run, just give it a shot."

"And how would it benefit me? I would have to spend an hour a day with your prick of a bestfriend! Do you know how torturous that is for me?"

"Well, I think not as torturous as me having to put up with all your unreasonable whining," said a familar voice which was obviously not Junhui's. You turned around only to find the person you have been badmouthing right now. He's still wearing his university uniform with his spectacles on.

Okay. It's hard not to notice that he looks so handsome with it but of course, you're not gonna admit that out loud.

"Bro, you're finally here!" Your brother greeted him and they did this fistbump thingy they always do when they meet each other. "Just please pretend you didn't hear what she said. She didn't have her daily fill of coffee so she's a little dramatic right now."

"She's always dramatic," Wonwoo shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."

You automatically groaned in annoyance, "Don't talk that way about me like I'm not here!"

They both stared at you for a second until Junhui tapped Wonwoo's shoulder. "I'm gonna leave her to you now. I know you can handle her."

Wonwoo nodded, "I guess I have to try my best."

Before you could hear any more of their snide remarks, you already turned around and marched your way to the study room where you will be doing the tutoring session.

It didn't take long until Wonwoo finally followed you. He put down his things first on the table before looking at you.

"Y/n," he calmly called and you swear you could feel his stare digging to the deepest part of your soul. "Won't you give me a hug?"

Your lips broke into a wide smile as you rushed over to him and encircled your arms around his neck. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, babe. Haven't seen you in school the whole day and when I finally came here, I had to hear you call me prick," a hint of sulking was etched on Wonwoo's voice.

"You know I didn't mean that," you said and cupped his face using both of your hands. "I just had to put up a show to my brother. I had to hide my excitement or else he'll know."

"Truth is, he already knows Y/n..."

"What?"

"Jun already knows were together," Wonwoo chuckled upon seeing your shock-stricken face. "He actually set up this whole thing. You know he could tutor you himself but he convinced your Mom that I should do it."

"I bet that's why he was laughing at me earlier. I might've looked so stupid. He's really a menace! He should've just told me the truth," you buried your face in his chest while he tightened his hold on your waist. "And you even agreed with him on calling me dramatic!"

"Because it's true?" he teased which earned him a slap on the back from you. "Nonetheless, it's still one of the many things I love about you, Y/n. It's part of your charm."

You giggled upon hearing what he said, "Should we just go on a date?"

"No," he replied. "We should get some tutoring done today or your brother would wring my neck."

--♡--

#seventeen #svt scenarios #svt au #svt #svt reader #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen imagines #fluff

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xlv - pb&j

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

Hongjoong is not one to be surprised easily. Well, by events or situations. He's a scaredy cat who had fallen victim to his son's pranks at least 20 times. In the past month.

But the sight of Kijoong's teacher, Mr Kang, lighting up as you produced a bag of sandwiches from your bag and handed it over to him almost made him choke on his own spit. Honestly, he didn't know why he was so surprised as he had seen (peeked) into your (private) conversation with Mr Kang the other day. Maybe he had been in denial (for some darn reason) about the exact identity of the Yeosang you talked with, thinking that it could be someone else with a similar name. That's possible, right? But seeing the way you adjusted the sleeve of his rolled-up shirt, Hongjoong was hesitant.

When you took Kijoong inside to settle in his cubby and spend some time before the classes started, Hongjoong found himself walking towards the guy he was eyeing.

"Ah, good morning! Mr Kim, right? Kim Kijoong's dad?" Yeosang asked politely with a warm smile. Even Hongjoong had to admit that his heart fluttered slightly so his "baseless" annoyance curiosity has decreased slightly. "Y-yes," clearing his throat, Hongjoong slipped his hands into his pants pockets, "How are you? How's your dad? I heard he was at the hospital?" "Yeah, yeah, he's fine! We went to the other KQ branch hospital so he was taken care of well. His recovery was even better when (y/n) sent him soup," he chuckled.

At the mention of the teacher's dad knowing you, Hongjoong couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Oh, I didn't realize that you two were so close," he nodded casually. Yeosang shrugged, "I guess in a sense we are, but (y/n) just cares about people and she takes it upon herself to take care of those who know her from her roots. Another hint, you two had known each other for a long while. "(y/n) didn't mention that she knew you to me and she often tells me about the people she knows from her youth." Hongjoong cringed slightly, realizing how easy it could be for Yeosang to twist his words and make it seem like he was jealous. Which he kinda was but it's not like it's obvious. Thankfully, if he did realize, Yeosang didn't let it show. "That could be because I haven't seen her in a long while and it didn't even occurred to us that we knew each other until the second day I came back," well that made Hongjoong more curious and Yeosang could sense it based on the way Hongjoong nodded along and putting all of his focus on him which made him rather nervous. So this time, it was Yeosang who cleared his throat and mended his posture, "S-see, (y/n) and I knew each other from way back in high school. We met because we had entered the same debate competition and we were in opposition. She was formidable with her arguments and it actually made me fear her in a major way. I didn't even think I'd get to talk to her but as you can guess, I did," "How so?" Hongjoong asked, engaged in the story, "Well, she made my teammate cry and she just wanted to make sure that the know-it-all 12th grader had his mommy to wipe his snot. We were in 10th grade at the time." The revelation made Hongjoong let out a snort which caused some parents and their children nearby to jump in surprise, looking at him who had to turn around in shame.

"So, is that how you and (y/n) started dating?" Hongjoong asked after calming down, not really realizing the words that he used. Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows momentarily before chuckling, "Oh, no. We are not dating! We became close again after the realization of our connection and became even closer because I found out that my spotter at the gym is actually Kijoong's instructor so we just shared and bonded and got even closer because of that!" he explained.

Though he was not even supposed to feel that way, Hongjoong felt a sense of relief and his posture even relaxed considerably. Though, he tensed up again when Yeosang continued, "Although, between you and me, (y/n) seems to be interested in this other guy." "What other guy? Is it someone she's close with? How'd you know?" At that point, Hongjoong didn't even care that he was acting rather ridiculously, asking random, personal stuff to his son's homeroom teacher. How professional. "I think you'd know him too," Yeosang stated and for one moment, Mingi came to mind but considering how you still deny him ice cubes, that seemed irrational, impossible, and positively stupid. Yeosang turned around slightly and pointed to where you were inside. "There."

Slowly, almost dramatically, Hongjoong turned his head, following Yeosang's finger to see you talking to the guy he recognized as the other homeroom teacher in Kijoong's class, Choi Soobin. While you were kind and affectionate towards Yeosang, you were more... Flirty with Soobin. That was the only word that seemed suitable because your stance was more passive yet open while still maintaining some boundaries with Soobin. Very different from the way you were with Yeosang whom you treated in a more motherly manner, like how you would Kijoong. With Yeosang, it was tidying him and giving him what he needed but with Soobin, it was more playful what with the gentle pushes and allowing him to guide you so your head won't hit the shelve nearby. You both looked very comfortable with each other, being as close as you both could and remaining respectful at a kindergarten while Kijoong tried to climb up Soobin's legs. His eyes glazed over the way you gently chastised the boy and tried to pry him off but Soobin grabbed your hands away from Kijoong and made gestures that suggested he was telling you to just let Kijoong be.

It was then that Hongjoong realized that his gut feeling was correct but he had jumped to a conclusion.

A lot of thoughts ran through Hongjoong's head, trying to make sense of things as if correcting an assignment, marking parts that were wrong and putting notes on certain parts as if pointing out which information needed elaboration. Above all, one thought seemed more prominent compared to the other. The thought that questioned whether or not he was supposed to feel bitter, jealous, and, well, hurt. Knowing that he was questioning his action did nothing, however. He just kept staring at the two of you in the corner while he was there, at a distance. Because that's what he had made his persona towards you to be since the beginning, right?

Distant, unapproachable.

Like he always was.

Alone.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@yunho-mp3 @strawberry-yeo @luvt0kki @allisonleannn @dinossaurz @khjcs @blackb3ll @aloverga @at1nys-blog @itsbeeble @potatomountain @axo-l0tl @green-thots @intancollins @galaxypox @fire-and-flame @maddiebabyxoxo @alyssajavenss @mirror-juliet @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @kodzukein @teenyfinds @dear-dreamie @mitchloveswriting @soobiverse @satsuri3su @phenomenalgirl9 @guess-monst3r @dimeb29 @ka-ni-ma @yayaistime @angelicyeo @kyume02 @thedistractedwriter @surveilenceysystem @ateezourstars @aursmrt @mismatchfluffysocks @puppyminnnie @nycol-ie @yungilia @writingbarnes @worcesheshestershiresauce

#cultofdionysusnet #sandsofirenet #kflixnet #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez social media au #ateez smau #ateez fanfic #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop social media au #kpop smau #kpop fanfic #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #smt social media au #smt smau #smt wanbelyn

[rxmqnova]

Can you write player reader x wanda?

Where yn and Wanda are a thing but no one knew about it so a lot of women try to hit yn but she always said no, but one night at a party, yn went outside the house and Nat followed her (her ex but they are friends now, Wanda knew but still jealous) and people saw them and talked about it and Wanda had to see for herself and when she saw them they were just hugging each other and Yn smiles and look at her wrist, touching the bracelet Wanda got her when It was their one month anniversary.

Nat walked away and saw Wanda watching them, then she talked to her and said that even if Yn was a bit difficult she deserves everything and she just wanted her to be happy, (they broke up because they fell out of love, no other people or anything) and then Wanda went with Yn and they talked about what people talked before and Yn reassure her that she was in love with her and maybe it was time to let people know about their relationship

It's time

NO ONE'S POV "Hey there" Y/N smiles, nudging Wanda's shoulder playfully while walking through the empty school corridors, making Wanda jump a little bit.

"Y/N, oh my god! You scared me!" Wanda places her hand over her chest, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry" Y/N chuckles out.

"What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to have a lesson or something?" Wanda raises an eyebrow, watching her girlfriend's cheeks turn red.

"Well, yeah, but I saw you walking around the classroom through the glass on the door. So I said I needed to go to the restroom and here I am. I just wanted to see you" Y/N admits, making Wanda chuckle this time. "Will I see you at the party tonight?"

"Mhm. Gotta keep my eye on you. You know, a lot of girls plan to ask you out and have you go to the party with them" Wanda teases.

"Bad for them then. I only like this one cute Sokovian girl with brown hair and the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen" Y/N says in response, making Wanda blush.

———

Y/N takes a deep breath before stepping into Stark's house as Tony is the one throwing up the party tonight. She immediately scans the room with her eyes, hoping to spot her girlfriend, but not seeing her anywhere yet.

"Look who arrived" Natasha smiles, walking over to her ex-girlfriend and handing her a drink right away.

"Oh. Thanks" Y/N smiles, accepting the drink from the redhead and still looking around with hope to find her girlfriend.

"Who are you looking for? That girlfriend of yours?" Natasha asks, now looking around just like Y/N and trying to find Wanda.

"What? How… how do you know I have a girlfriend?" Y/N furrows her brows in confusion, waiting for an explanation. Her and Wanda haven't told anyone about their relationship, actually they're pretty sure no one knows they're dating. "Wait. Not here. Come outside" Y/N orders, receiving a confused look from Natasha though the redhead doesn't question it and follows her ex-girlfriend out of the house.

"Why did we have to go outside?" Now Natasha brings out the question.

"I don't know… Wanda and I just like to keep things only between us, I guess" Y/N shrugs.

"So Wanda, huh?" Natasha smirks, making Y/N roll her eyes in response.

"Yeah, Wanda. Are you jealous, Romanoff?" This time Y/N smirks in response, making the redhead chuckle.

"No, I'm just happy for you. You know, after we broke up I thought you would stay single forever" Natasha jokes, Y/N rolling her eyes in response once again.

"For your information, Wanda and I are dating for a few months already" Y/N informs, making the redhead chuckle at how easy is to make fun of her ex-girlfriend.

While Natasha and Y/N are talking, Wanda finally steps into the house, her eyes searching for her girlfriend. Though her attention soon moves to almost everyone's topic of conversation.

"I mean… do you guys think Y/N and Natasha are back together?" One girl asks and Wanda just can't help but listen.

"It makes sense. Why would they go outside otherwise?" Another girl responses.

Wanda squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, deciding to just go for a drink. But when she reaches the kitchen, another group discusses the exact same thing as the girls before.

"I bet Natasha's the reason Y/N said no to me when I asked her out this morning"

"Alright" Wanda sighs, turning around and walking back outside. She knows her girlfriend would never cheat on her, though she can't help but feel a little jealous.

Once she spots her girlfriend talking to the redhead, she can't help but stop walking and watch them.

"I'm really glad you're happy, Y/N" Natasha smiles warmly, meaning every single word.

"Thank you, Nat" Y/N smiles back, wrapping her arms around the redhead and pulling her in for a hug. "We better get back inside, I bet Wanda's already there" She smiles once they pull away, her smile widening on the thought of her girlfriend as she looks at the bracelet Wanda got her for their one month anniversary and gently touches it.

"See you there then" Natasha smiles, walking away first. Her smile turning into a little smirk when she notices the girlfriend standing aside and clearly watching them. "Y/N was looking for you"

"Oh, I only just arrived" Wanda smiles akwardly, hoping to escape this conversation.

"Y/N and I were just talking if you're wondering… She really likes you" Natasha goes on. "Look, I know it can be difficult with her sometimes, but… she's really a nice girl and deserves to be happy"

"I really like her too, Natasha. I know you two are friends and you want the best for her, but I can assure you that I want the best for her too… I'll do anything to make her happy" Wanda tells the redhead seriously, receiving a nod and a small smile from her before she just walks away.

"There you are. I was starting to get a little worried when I didn't see you inside" Y/N smiles, walking happily to Wanda only a few seconds after Natasha walked away.

"Oh. Hi. I arrived just a few minutes ago. Wanna go for a little walk with me?" Wanda returns the smile, holding her hand out of her girlfriend who immediately nods and interlocks her fingers with Wanda's.

After a few minutes of walking and a little bit of an uncomfortable silence, Y/N decides to break it, noticing something's bothering her girlfriend.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N just asks, rubbing her thumb over Wanda's knuckles.

"Yeah, everything's okay. I just… it's stupid anyway" Wanda sighs on which Y/N furrows her brows.

"No, tell me. You can tell me everything, you know I'd never judge you for anything" Y/N assures.

"… It's just… When I came to the party and was looking for you, I heard other people's conversations. I know you and Natasha are just friends, but they were discussing if you and her weren't back together. I guess it made me a little jealous. Sorry, I know it's stupid" Wanda sighs once again.

"It's not. If we want this to work, we need to tell each other everything, Wands. I'm glad you told me, because now I can suggest you something I've been wanting to suggest you for a while actually" Y/N smiles, stopping to walk and taking both Wanda's hands into her own. "I really, really love you, Wanda. I'm so in love with you and I was thinking that maybe it's time to stop hiding and just tell everyone that we are together"

"Really? I-I would love to. I thought that you-" Wanda admits, a huge smile forming on her face as she gets pulled into a loving kiss immediately. "I love you too"

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

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #fanfiction #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader

[slut4fangs]

"i love you so fuckin' much"

jealous perv!bestfriend!eddie my beloved &lt;3

pairing: eddie munson x female reader

warnings: smut, 18+, eddie is a jealous perv, slapping, dirty talk, friends to lovers, pet names, no use of y/n, the use of 'whore' and 'slut' to describe reader, lightly proofread but i put my whole pussy into this, cheating but this is fictional and sexy so don't get your panties in a twist ily

i think bestfriend!eddie would loose his mind with jealousy if you got a serious boyfriend. sure, he had hookups and dated a few girls. but the moment you announce you're in a serious relationship, eddie feels like you've dropped a fucking bomb on him.

eddie munson was nothing if not clever. his way of keeping you close to his side, no matter who you were dating, was extraordinary. you've dated your fair share of people, that was true, but when Eddie saw how serious you were about this new guy...something in him snapped. so when you come to his house one night to hang out to  watch horror flicks and smoke, eddie can't help but make you question your loyalty to 'what's-his-face...' that's what he referred to him as anyways.

"i mean, i think things could actually be serious between me and him...i can feel it, you know what I mean? has anyone ever made you feel like that," you question eddie,

eddie exhales a puff of smoke on your face and laughs off the question, "what? no fucking way, princess, I'm not really the serious type," eddie admitted. and he was sort of telling the truth, he wasn't willing to be serious with anyone else...if it wasn't you.

"oh, I just thought maybe we could leave hawkins together, me and him. someday, I don't know, maybe i'm being silly," you lean back on the couch cushion and sigh.

he'd scoff at you, "no fucking way, you're joking right," leaning back on his couch. his arm slung over the middle cushion where you sat, not physically able to look him in the eye at the moment. he felt betrayed, you wanted to leave hawkins? without him?

you didn't realize you forgot to answer his question until he yanks on your pony tail to get your attention, "ow, what the hell was that for," you pout at him. why is he being so mean to you right now? you've never seen him this bothered over anything, eddie's eyes were vacant as he trained them on you. you tried staring him down, your pout and teary eyes gave him a sick satisfaction. he wasn't proud of it, but seeing you this upset when he was mad at you made his dick twitch in his tight jeans. i'm going to hell, eddie thinks.

"don't cry on my account, sweetheart. oh and let me guess, your bastard boyfriend doesn't want you hanging out with me anymore," he raises an eyebrow at you. you look down to fiddle with your hands, he had hit the nail on the head with that one. he hated that he was right. "oh my god," eddie laughed in disbelief, smug and cruel, the smile on his face anything but friendly, "that's why you came over here, to tell me we can't hangout anymore? huh? is that it, princess?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing, you had a boyfriend so now he had to disappear from your life. it wasn't fair.

"do you think this is easy on me, i'm trying to find a way for you both to be in my life without hating each other." couldn't he see that you were trying? all he could see is that you needed a harsh reality check.

"fat fucking chance at that, i haven't even met him and i can't stand that prick," eddie's temper flared and heat enveloped his pale cheeks, exhaling smoke through his nose before snuffing his cigarette out like he was mad at it. truth be told he was imagining it was your boyfriend's head he was smothering to ashes.

"just forget i said anything, let's just enjoy this," you cup eddie's knee with your palm and give it a little reassuring squeeze, as if this wasn't the last time you planned to hangout with him because of some controlling boyfriend, some stranger that was going to take you away from him.

eddie sighed and said nothing as he disappeared into the next room, you didn't have any idea as to what he was doing in there until you hear the familiar rattle of his 'lunchbox.' you smiled to yourself, maybe this friendship didn't have to end badly after all.

~

thirty minutes later you two were giggling and talking like nothing life altering just happened. but the topic was of course bound to come up again, how could it not?

"now be honest, are you sure about this guy? he sounds like a total dick, honey," eddie sounded genuinely concerned, but more lighthearted than before which calmed you as much as the weed did.

you bursted out in laughter, unable to control the giddiness, "you said 'dick-honey,'" you laughed and you laughed until your stomach hurt and you fell back on the arm of the couch clutching your tummy.

"hey, what's so funny," eddie leans over you, hovering with his hands caging you into the couch. suddenly you were aware of how close his hands were to your waist, and aware of how delicious he smelled. and how his eyes scanned you face, taking you all in.

"you smell really good," you admit aloud, bubbly and high, Eddie loved when you were like this. all anxiety forgotten, the full body high taking over your system, it was just you and him. no talk of your stupid boyfriend, just two best friends with lethal amounts of chemistry between you. what could go wrong?

eddie hovered above you, wedging himself between your legs until his knee was nudging your clothed pussy. your skirt hiked up exposing your frilly underwear, a small gasp leaving you when eddie looked down to get a better look at your pretty underwear that he thought suited you perfectly.

"nice panties," eddie's voice was low, flirty even. he'd be lying if he said he never got horny when the two of you got high together, almost every time actually. if he only knew how long the feelings had been mutual for all these years.

you try to smooth your skirt to cover yourself but eddie haults your movement with a, "wait, i need a better look at these. haven't seen them before," he looks entranced, unable to tear his eyes away from your lower half. he's scared that if he looks up at your face he'll loose all of his courage and back off. he doesn't want to scare you off, but he also doesn't want to stop.

the words 'haven't seen these before' definitely threw you for a loop, "huh, what do you mean you haven't seen these before? have you been going through my laundry, eddie?"

"no, you wear these cute little skirts all the time. and you're always dropping shit, bending over, driving me crazy," eddie finally looks up at you, "you torture me." he rocks his knee into you and to his surprise you grind yourself back on him, he lets out an incredulous laugh, thinking about how he should've done this ages ago.

'driving me crazy'

'you torture me'

you were giggling in eddies face, looking up at him adoringly and overwhelmed with weed fueled lust he could see it in your eyes. and well, he couldn't help himself if he tried, in a swift motion eddie crashes his lips onto yours, a searing hot kiss that overtook both of your minds. you forgot you were dating someone, forgot about anything other than eddie munson, your best friend who you've always seen as cute, finally kissed you. in the very back of your mind, a little voice in your head was telling you how wrong this was.

"wait, we can't do this," you say pulling back from the kiss, even though you didn't want to, you knew that was the right thing to do. you had to stop before this went any further.

with his right hand holding your face tightly, "why not," eddie's dark eyes bore into yours, the tone of his voice was somewhat annoyed which struck you. eddie's mouth ghosted over yours, "i think we both need this, don't you? your boyfriend couldn't fuck you like I could, i think you know that deep down."

how long has he felt like this about you? he'd never say.

all you could do was let out a small whimper, an overwhelming need to have his hands all over your body enveloped you. you could cut the tension in that room with a knife.

"what was that," eddie mocked you, "i didn't catch that."

you groaned and covered your face with your hands, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on your cheeks. eddie quickly tore your hands away from your face, "use your words, i don't speak brat."

he wanted you to use your words and you did, you said the first words that came to mind, "i want you," it was a small plea. you felt silly, the living room was just full of laughter a few minutes ago and now it was a whole other atmosphere. tense, raw, completely uncharted territory between you and eddie. it was like something had been boiling on the stove for ages at a low simmer, but someone cranked it up to 10 and now it was all boiling over the sides in a hot rush.

eddie laughed, sadistic and proud, he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "what would your boyfriend say if he saw you right now? i bet he'd call you a slut," eddie smirked down at you and then the tears started again, but this time you couldn't hold them in.

"oh stop crying, i still haven't gotten a chance to meet your new panties," eddie played with the material, snapping the side to your waist and laughing when you yelped. "you're so cute," eddie hooked his arms around your thighs and ran his thumb in small circles on your clit, adding pressure until he heard you moan his name.

"eddie please, i need you," you've never heard yourself this needy before, but you've also never been this turned on before.

"you got me, i'm here," eddie spoke without a mocking tone this time, reminding you he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. once he's taken your underwear off (in record time by the way, he's never been this turned on either) your legs are on his shoulders and he's licking your arousal. his tongue quickly finding it's way to your slit, pumping in and out, his middle and pointer finger working your clit in fast circles you thought you could dissolve right then and there. and what a way to go this would be, it would be like heaven to dissolve with him.

replacing his tongue with his fingers eddie pumps his middle and pointer fingers in and out of you until you're squeezing him, curling his fingers and hitting that special place over and over again. the pleasure building in your stomach is sinful and it builds more when eddie starts to suck on your clit, looking up at you with a devilish look. if eyes could smirk, his were doing just that. the satisfaction of knowing you wanted him so bad that you begged, and you moaned his name so beautifully, it was all going to his head(s). eddie was just as turned on as you, he moaned with his mouth to you, the man was practically making out with your pussy and getting a rise out of it.

you gently tug at eddie's hair as if to say, 'please come up for air before you drown.'

eddie smirks and crawls up to you, brushes your hair out of your face, and says, "i'm keeping these panties by the way," and kisses your lips softly swinging the cotton material over you like a pendulum before stuffing it in his back pocket.

you roll your eyes, "fine but i'm keeping THIS," you say grabbing his bandanna and stuffing it in your bra.

"i'm not above a good pat down, babe," eddie makes a show of taking his jacket off and rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, cracking his knuckles and the whole bit before giving you a full body pat down starting with your tits. "hm, left tit seems to be full of contraband. subject appears to be a foxy thief, noted," eddie talks aloud to himself throughout the whole process, you cant stop laughing, at the end of it you laugh so hard you're crying again. but this time they're happy tears.

once the full body pat down is done eddie makes his way back up to your chest and pulls the handkerchief out with his teeth. "are you aware what this'll cost you," eddie says, only half joking, it will cost you.

"oh no, i'm so scared. i'm sorry i'll do anything, just let me go," you pretend to be under distress. eddie gets a kick out of your acting and it only revvs him up more.

"oh yeah? you'll do anything i want?" eddie's eyebrows raise and his mouth quirks up in a knowing look. you nod your head sheepishly, he moves to tie your wrists together above your head.

you gasp when eddie starts unbuttoning your shirt, it's like every time you feel his breath fan your skin your chills double. talk about senses on fire, you were in the volcano, your cheeks hot and blushed. eddie took his time with you, enjoying every second of this because he didn't know if it would happen again.

eddie takes everything off but your skirt and socks, you nudge his thigh with your foot, "your turn...take em' off show me what you're working with."

eddie laughs and shakes his head shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the carpet, he's so fucking in love with you it's crazy. you wish you could take his shirt off for him, you're dying to touch him, "let me take off your shirt, please?" cue the big puppy eyes eddie used to never be able to resist, but now that's half the fun, teasing you, working you up and getting you hot. it didn't take long for him to figure out what you liked and what you didn't like.

the truth was you liked everything he did, fuck, you might be in love with him too.

"no, only good girls get to undress me," eddie teases, taking his shirt off and rolling his shoulders a few times before he's holding your face and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. "aw," he pouts, mocking you, "is someone upset?"

you answer him with a scowl and he laughs and slaps your cheek lightly, "you act like a bad girl...you get treated like one," eddie lands another smack to your face but this time it stings...and you love it. he kisses the same cheeks he smacked and soothes his thumb over it again, sweetly this time.

"now," eddie leans back on his knees and starts undoing his belt, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. you think you might die when he unzips himself, "i'm really pent up and you're a brat that drives me crazy, look how hard you made me." eddie palms himself through his jeans, you're seconds away from drooling if he doesn't start touching you again. "do you wanna feel it?" eddie moans when you nod your head yes, "ok, fine i'll untie you. if you'll behave..."

"mhm, i'll behave, i promise. i'll be good," your face lights up when eddie unties your wrists and directs your hand to his cock.

eddie groans, "fuck- you'll be good for me, won't you, babydoll?" eddie pulls down his pants and boxers all in one go, his cock on full display but he can't keep his eyes off you lips. he swears his cock twitches every time you lick your lips at the thought of tasting him.

"i'll be so good for you," you say, one hand pumping his cock and the other on his face, he's whimpering into your mouth as your tongues meet.

"fuck, you're really good at that," eddie rubs his cock up and down your pussy, "mm," eddie speaks between kisses, your hands are holding his waist, encouraging him to sink into you. and when he does, the both of you gasp into each other's mouths, "you're sucha little slut, baby. aren't you?"

"mhm, for you i am," your voice is soft and gentle in his ear. and while he thinks he could bust at any second, eddie knows better and keeps going, relishing this moment.

"you like being my little whore, don't you. dirty girl," eddie sucks on your neck, his tongue licking a stripe up your neck and leaving hickies there, he blows on it and you have chills all over again. you let out a little 'ah' sound at this and eddie thinks he could get used to this.

"i don't like it, i love it," your voice is breathy and sounds so pornographic you almost scare yourself.

"you love it, baby? you love me?" eddie's holding your cheeks again and kissing you sweetly and when your eyes meet you've never seen someone look at you like that before, like they were in love.

that's when it hits you, "i love you so fuckin' much, no one else, just you."

eddie thinks he died and gone to heaven when he replies, "i love you too, i love you so fuckin' much, baby," and comes inside of you when the last word leaves his mouth.

you spend the rest of the night holding each other and talking, then laying in silence, when eddie thinks you've gone to sleep he whispers "i love you," one more time because he loves saying it as much as he loves you.

eddie forgot you talk in your sleep when you reply, "i love you, eddie," his heart almost leaps out of his chest and he swears he's never been happier.

#eddie x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #jealous!eddie munson #jealous!eddie #eddie munson x female reader

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Spring Fling

(gif by @pedropascalsx. I've given up using Tumblr gif search)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x virgin f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 19,228. Oops.

Warnings: Significant age gap (almost 20 years), college-age reader, sexual tension, mentions of: strained familial relationships, divorce, unhealthy breakups, stalker(ish) behavior (PAST), therapy. Virgin/inexperienced reader, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected PIV sex and a lot of it, comeplay if you squint, Marcus’s filthy filthy mouth, happy ending

Summary: When you and your friend, fellow pre-Law student Emma, plan to go to Washington DC for spring break instead of the typical beach destination, she makes plans for the two of you to stay with her estranged father for the week to save money on lodging. You never expected Emma’s father, a man she says she’s barely seen throughout the years, to be so sweet, so troubled, and so unfairly pretty. Neither did you expect for what you'd thought was a one-sided attraction to turn into a spring fling... or maybe something more.

A/N: I got an ask asking about 'Best Friend's Dad' Marcus Pike, so I now post a question to you, dear reader: What if Marcus Pike had a college-age kid from his first marriage, one that he'd entered into at a very young age because of an unplanned pregnancy? Anyway to find out the answer read this almost 20k fic LOL

Masterlist

"We should go somewhere for spring break."

Your friend and fellow pre-Law student at the University of Texas, Emma, laughs. "Go somewhere? Like what, the fucking beach? And with what money?"

"No, no beaches. Somewhere cool. Somewhere unusual."

"Like what?" Emma asks, shoving another handful of chips in her mouth.

"I've never been to Washington, DC," you comment thoughtfully.

"I thought every public school in the entire country went to DC at some point," Emma remarks. 

"I had the chickenpox."

"Ew."

"Do you think that would be fun? Going to the Capitol for break?" you ask.

"I guess," Emma shrugs. "It's better than going to writhe on the beach with fifty thousand wasted twentysomethings."

"There's still the issue of how to pay for a trip. For any trip. I think I could cover airfare, but a DC hotel? Ugh," you say with a groan. 

"I could put the hotel on my credit card and work a bunch of extra shifts at Pizza Express afterward to make up for it," Emma says. "But that would pretty much max out my card."

"I can look up the cheapest spots outside the city," you suggest. "And we can take the metro in."

"Outside the city isn't going to be much better," Emma remarks. "We could… nah."

You look up, curious. "We could… what?"

"Well, my uh, my dad actually lives in DC."

"Your dad?" you repeat incredulously. "You've literally never mentioned your dad. I thought he and your mom were estranged?"

"Sorta," Emma says. "The official story is that they married too young and eventually separated."

"...And the unofficial story?"

"My mom found out she was pregnant at nineteen, and my dad wanted to do the right thing, so he married her. But I guess they weren't right for each other, because they were already divorced by the time I was two."

"Do you see him much?" you ask.

"I used to," Emma says quietly. "But my mom was never really enthusiastic about spending much time together, so it wasn’t very often. And then he moved to DC when I was a junior in high school, and I haven't seen him since. He always sends me cards on my birthday and Christmas, though. And…" she suddenly blushes, looking down and away.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What, Em?"

"He pays for my tuition."

"What?!"

"Yeah, I've barely had to take out any loans. It's just for housing and stuff."

"You ass, you never told me that!"

"It's not common knowledge," Emma mumbles. "Besides, no one wants to admit they've got an absent, divorced father paying the bills."

"But you'd want to contact him for this? For a place to crash over spring break for a week?"

"He's nice," Emma says quietly. "I always got the feeling that he wanted to do his best by us."

"I mean, if you're cool with it, it kinda sounds fun," you admit. "Better than Galveston, anyway."

Emma laughs. "Yeah, way better than Galveston."

"Holy shit, Em, you can see the Capitol from here." 

The two of you had emerged from the underground tunnel of the metro station, trailing suitcases behind you, into what feels like the middle of the city itself. The busy street is flanked with large condominiums on both sides, with--unbelievably--a view of the Capitol building in the distance.

"I think it's this one," Emma says, squinting at the address on her phone and back up at one of the buildings. 

"How do we get in?" you ask. 

"He just said to text him," Emma answers. "Hang on." She taps out a message on her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. "And now we wait."

You barely have time to check your email before the front door opens and a man emerges, striding quickly toward the two of you. You think he's about to envelop your friend into a crushing hug, but he stops short, eyes wavering with uncertainty as he looks his daughter up and down. His hand reaches toward her arm, but he hesitates just short of touching.

"Emma," the man breathes, the emotion evident in his voice making you want to duck your head and turn away from the scene. 

"Hey, uh, Dad," Emma says, giving him a sheepish smile. "Been a while."

"It's been six years," the man says emphatically. 

"Yeah."

You watch as Emma's father's fingers twitch toward her. "C-Can I–" 

Emma shrugs. "'Course."

The man carefully steps forward and wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. His eyes close, his eyebrows pull upward to reveal a deep crease in between them as he holds his daughter for apparently the first time in six years. This time, you do look away from what feels like surprisingly tender and private moment. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for your graduation," you hear him say softly. "I was undercover for a case, and… Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. You don't know how badly I wanted to be there."

"S'okay," Emma says cooly. She steps back, and, for the first time, her father seems to notice you. 

"Hi," he says brightly, and his pained, heartfelt expression melts into an easy smile as he extends his hand to you. "Marcus." 

You don't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone older. Maybe someone less… attractive. Not this frankly gorgeous man, with his boyish smile, pretty eyes that crinkle around the edges, slightly mussed brown hair that falls over his forehead, and the light smattering of facial hair that only seems to soften his features further. Not that he needed any help, in that respect. Slightly stunned, you step forward and take the man’s hand, trying not to trip over the syllables of your own name.

Marcus’s smile widens, and he repeats your name, which does nothing to quell the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach–and are your palms sweating?

"Thank you for allowing us to stay for the week," you say politely, forcing yourself out of the trance.

"Not a problem," Marcus answers. "What a great destination for spring break! Whose idea was that?"

"Mine," you say with a little laugh. 

"My kind of girl," Marcus jokes. "Keeping my daughter out of trouble."

"Dad," Emma groans. "I'm not a kid."

"Well, last time I saw you, you were fifteen," Marcus says pointedly. "You're gonna have to let my brain do a little catch-up, here."

"Well, to start with, I'm not a beach party kind of person," Emma says. "I'm a nerd–y'know, being pre-Law and all."

Emma's father beams. "So I've heard. Well, I'm happy to host two nerds while they do a little sightseeing in the nation's Capitol. I can even," he adds with a conspiratorial smile, "give you a tour of the J. Edgar Hoover building. If–If you want," he finishes awkwardly, appearing hesitant and unsure again.

"Oh, cool!" you exclaim automatically, without thinking.

Marcus grins widely at your enthusiasm, and you find yourself staring at your shoes, biting your lip as you flounder under his attention. You're being weird. Stop it. 

"Y-Yeah," Emma adds, nodding hesitantly. "That would be nice... Dad. Thanks."

“C’mon,” Marcus says, grabbing both Emma’s bag and, before you can protest, yours. “Come on up. I ordered some pizza for everyone. You can get settled tonight and… go do whatever you two want to do in the morning.”

The two of you follow Marcus through the lobby and into the elevator. You can’t help but keep stealing little glances at him–the way his shoulders fill out the maroon henley he’s wearing over jeans, the way those shoulders taper down to narrow hips, the way he’s got the top two buttons of his shirt casually undone, showing you a hint of collarbone that has you damn-near salivating. Snap out of it. Oh, God, snap out of it. You’ve known the man for five minutes, and you feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s gonna be a long week if you don’t pull it together. 

Marcus opens the front door and gestures the two of you in before him. You stand awkwardly in the living room, looking around at the furniture and at the decor on the walls, looking anywhere but at your best friend’s dad, whose very presence seems to fluster you beyond all reason.

“I just have one spare room, hopefully you two don’t mind sharing…?” Marcus asks.

“That’s fine,” Emma says good-naturedly. 

“It’s just through here,” he says, walking past you. “I’ll set your bags down in there and show you around.”

The room is clearly his workspace–there’s a desk and a chair shoved into a corner to make room for a comfortable-looking guest bed. The side wall is covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and you subconsciously step toward them, eager to see what titles this man keeps on his shelves.

“Sorry, it’s kind of an… all-purpose room,” Marcus says sheepishly. “Bit cluttered.”

“I like it,” you murmur absentmindedly, still scanning the spines.

“‘Gardner’s Art Through the Ages’” Emma reads, crinkling her nose. “How many editions of this book do you have?”

Her father laughs. “It’s work stuff, mostly. Although there’s a few thrillers here and there. And some classics.” He approaches the shelves as well, and you can feel the hair on the back of your neck start to stand up on end at the sensation of his body hovering just behind you. You’re so… aware of him. You don’t know if it’s because Marcus seems to naturally command every space he’s in or if there’s something electric that’s pulling you toward him, but either way, your entire body feels as though it’s on high alert.

A sharp buzzing makes you jump comically, making Emma snort.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Marcus announces. “Be right back.”

You glance over at Emma, who is still staring disinterestedly at the bookshelves. “It’s a nice place,” you say conversationally. 

“Mmmhm.”

“You okay?” you ask softly.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma scoffs, waving her hand. “Just been a while. It’s weird. You know.”

“He seems nice,” you say.

“He is,” she remarks. “I told you he was. I just… don’t know him very well. Like he said, I haven’t seen him in six years.”

“Maybe this will be good, then,” you suggest. “Get to know him now that you’re an adult and all that.”

Emma shrugs. “Maybe.”

You look back at the shelves. Emma was right; Marcus does have an alarmingly large number of editions of Art Through the Ages. You furrow your brow.

“What does your dad do in DC?”

“Oh, did I not tell you? He’s in the FBI.”

You feel as though you’ve swallowed your tongue, but before you can garble out a response–something like, “Mmmgnnbbllgffnhh?”–you hear Marcus coming back.

“Get it while it’s hot!” he says cheerfully. “You guys must be hungry after traveling all day.”

“Oh wow, Dad, that’s… a lot of pizza for three people,” Emma says, her eyebrows raising in surprise and confusion.

She’s right–there are five boxes sitting on the small kitchen island, along with several options of drink.

“I had no idea what either of you liked,” Marcus reasoned. “So I got a few different options. Cheese, pepperoni, supreme, hawaiian, and some kind of vegan thing, just in case.”

“You know, you could have just texted,” Emma remarks, at the same time that you whisper, “Thank you.”

Marcus looks sheepish. “Wanted to surprise you. Anyway, dig in–there’s obviously a lot.” He laughs quietly to himself, grabbing three plates and setting them down on the counter. You grab three different kinds–supreme, hawaiian, and the vegan option, out of curiosity–and sit on one of the barstools opposite Marcus. Emma grabs two cheeses and sits down next to you.

“So,” he says after a few minutes of surprisingly companionable silence. “I know Emma is pre-Law. Are you pre-Law too?” he asks, looking at you with a friendly, curious smile. 

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, tight-lipped. You hate this conversation–the college-age version of ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone asks the question with good intent, but it always leaves you in an anxiety spiral, an existential crisis, because no matter how many times you’re asked, you have absofuckinglutely no idea. 

“What kind of law do you want to go into?” This question is addressed more to Emma, who immediately launches into an explanation of Environmental Law and the impact of climate change on public health. Marcus nods eagerly, giving Emma his full attention as she talks, watching her with a small smile. 

“What about you?” he asks when she’s done, turning to you.

You gulp. 

“I don’t—I don’t really know. Not yet, anyways.” You brace yourself for the judgmental eyebrow raise, the well-meaning advice.

“That’s okay,” Marcus says, smiling. “No one says you have to have it figured out at… how old are you?”

“T-Twenty,” you mumble, feeling more naive and inexperienced than you ever have before.

“Nah,” Marcus says, shaking his head playfully. “No one has it figured out at twenty. And the people who think they do? They change.”

His eyes go far away for a split-second, and you wonder what he must have been like at twenty. Did he already have Emma at that point? Did he just find out that his girlfriend was pregnant? Was he panicking, trying to figure out how to make things work? You wonder what it was that he had wanted to do, and what he had sacrificed for Emma and her mom. You wonder if he had wanted the divorce, or if she had been the one to suggest it.

“Anyway,” Marcus says, casually waving a slice of pepperoni as he talks, “I mostly work with criminal lawyers. If that’s something you’re interested in, I could arrange a chat with someone this week.”

“Oh,” you say, too stunned to say anything else. “Yeah, maybe.”

Marcus shrugs good-naturedly. “Think about it,” he says, giving you another crooked grin. His eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles, and it makes your stomach do somersaults. 

“Yeah,” you say again, a little breathlessly. Your next bite of pizza misses your mouth entirely, and you manage to stab yourself in the cheek with your slice, transferring a glob of tomato sauce onto your face in the process.

Emma laughs, and Marcus’s eyes glitter with amusement as you frantically reach for a napkin. 

“So you do, um… FBI stuff?” you ask him clumsily, trying to break the silence.

“Yep. FBI Stuff. Says it on my badge and everything.”

“Why do you have a bunch of art books?”

“I lead an international task force dealing with art crimes,” he answers patiently. 

“What constitutes an art crime?” Emma asks, her mouth full.

“Theft,” Marcus lists, “forgeries, black market sales, dealing in antiquities, looting of archaeological sites…”

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, a dopey smile on your face. Emma shoots you a funny look.

“So it’s like, nerdy FBI stuff,” she says.

“The nerdiest,” Marcus agrees, smiling.

“Do you still have a gun and stuff?”

“I do,” Marcus says carefully, frowning slightly. “It’s in the safe for the week, though, while you’re here.”

Your stomach flip-flops at the mental image of Emma’s dad holding a gun, those warm brown eyes dark with focus as he stares down… an art thief. Or something. 

“Enough about your old man,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What are you two looking to do tomorrow on your first day in DC?”

“Think we’ll hit the museums,” Emma says. “Get them out of the way first. We want to see the Library of Congress, obviously. Plus walking around to all the monuments and stuff. Oh, and the zoo!”

“Do you want my advice?” Marcus asks, and you both nod. “It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, and sunny. I’d do the monument tour or the zoo tomorrow if I were you. Save the indoor stuff for the end of the week, because it’s supposed to rain.”

“Monuments it is!” Emma exclaims. “Hey, can I… can I use your shower? I feel kinda gross from the travel day.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus hops up, leading Emma over to the guest bathroom. You listen as he points out a stack of towels intended for the two of you during your stay, the extra shampoo he’d bought, the spare toothbrushes just in case… Eventually he returns, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking hesitant again.

“Thank you,” you say again. “You went through a lot of trouble, and–”

“It’s no trouble,” Marcus says quickly. “No trouble at all. I–I have to admit I was surprised when Em–when she called, but I’m–I’m more than happy to host you two for the week. It’s no trouble at all,” he repeats.

“Okay,” you say dumbly. You’re staring again, unable to help the way your eyes are drawn to the way his arms fill out the shirt he's wearing when his hands are in his pockets like that. 

"You alright?" 

Your eyes flit up to his at the question. He's looking back at you, his head cocked to the side as he watches you. And suddenly, you can just tell–you can tell that he knows how flustered you are in front of him. 

You nod rapidly up and down in response, not trusting yourself to answer.  

"Good. Had enough pizza?"

"Mmhmm."

"Anything else to drink?" he asks. 

"Got any beer?" you ask with a quirk of your eyebrow.

"You told me you were twenty," Marcus reminds you. 

"Oh."

"And I work for law enforcement," he says gravely. 

Oh. 

"Oh, f-fuck, I um… I was kidding. Holy shit. I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm not a-a bad… student, or anything. I swear, I–"

As you continue to frantically backtrack, you realize that Marcus’s shoulders are shaking with laughter. 

"Oh, you're funny. Real funny. Ha. Ha."

"Next you'll be saying I should quit my day job," he says, his eyes sparkling. 

"I'm not sure what kind of art… crime… solver… you are, but I have to believe you're a better agent than you are a comedian," you deadpan. 

"You can come to my stand-up show on Tuesday and see for yourself."

Your jaw drops before you realize Marcus's lips are quivering with the effort of keeping a straight face. 

"You're on fire, tonight," you say, rolling your eyes. 

"You'll have to forgive me," he says, a gentle, more wistful smile gracing his lips. "I don't have company often, and it's been even longer since I've seen–" his eyes flick to the bathroom door, and he looks troubled for a moment. 

"Strictly off the record, if you do want a beer, I happen to have some," he says, changing the subject and smiling back at you again. 

"Nah, I'll save that favor for later in the week," you tell him.

"Noted," Marcus replies. He's looking at you again, still. He seems to be one of those people who gives all of his focus to someone when they speak, and the attention is starting to overwhelm you. 

"Hey!" Emma calls from the guest bedroom. "I wanna get started early tomorrow. Those monuments aren't gonna monument themselves."

You laugh and roll your eyes. "That's my cue," you say with a little smile. "Gonna grab a shower myself and call it a night."

"If you need anything, I'm a room away," Marcus says, but it only serves to remind you that this man will be sleeping in the next room.

"Got it," you say, nodding thickly. "Um, good night."

"Good night," he answers softly. 

When you reach the bathroom door, you turn around again–you can't help yourself. 

He's still looking at you. 

"Get up!

"Get up!"

"GET–"

"Okay!" you whine, throwing an extra pillow in the general direction of Emma's voice. "Fuck. I'm up."

You throw on a pair of jeans and a faded tee, scrubbing your hands over your face as you stumble out of the guest room and into the kitchen, where Marcus hands you a cup of coffee, which you accept with a grunt.

"Emma warned me that you weren't a morning person," he says. 

"God, it's both of you, isn't it?" you grumble. "Morning people."

"I guess we turned out alike after all," Marcus says with a soft smile, watching as you take a grateful sip from the mug. "What's the first stop on the list?"

"I dunno, she's got it all planned out," you murmur. "Of like, seeing the farthest place first and working our way back."

"Sounds like a plan," Marcus says. "You two have fun."

"What are you doing today?" Emma interjects, coming into the kitchen, grabbing a bagel off of the counter, and stuffing it into her mouth. 

"Well, it's Sunday, so… grocery shopping," Marcus says. "Any special requests?"

"Filet mignon," Emma says. 

"You got it. Want some lobster tails as well?"

"Mmhmm."

"I was thinking more along the lines of spaghetti and meatballs. Anything else you ladies would like?"

Emma shuffles her feet, and you frown slightly. You've never known her not to immediately say what's on her mind–and clearly, something is. 

"What is it, Emmie?" Marcus asks softly.

"Do you remember that one time that we came to your family's for Christmas–I think I was maybe twelve?–and you made…"

"...Tamales?" Marcus asks, his eyebrows shooting upward. 

"Yeah," Emma answers, her voice smaller than you've ever heard it. "I still remember those. They were really good."

"Jesus, I haven't made those in…" he shakes his head. "I don't even know. But uh, sure. We can do that. Tamale night. It's a deal."

"Thanks," Emma says, smiling. "And… really? 'Emmie?' Dad, I'm not seven anymore."

"My mistake," Marcus says with a playful wink in your direction–which might make your heart stop. "You girls stay safe. Text if you need anything."

Marcus was right–the weather is beautiful today. It’s perfect for walking endlessly from monument to monument, which you do all morning. You try to stay focused–thoughtfully reading the names on the Vietnam War Memorial and not thinking about Emma’s dad, in the plain white t-shirt he had been wearing this morning, in the produce section picking out apples. Even worse, you try not to imagine the sight of him cooking tonight.

He’s becoming a bit of an obsession for you, you can admit it. You want to know everything about him–what his job is like, what he does on the weekends, what he likes to read, what he did in the past to alienate the mother of his child enough that he’s barely seen his daughter–who he very clearly cares deeply for…

As you walk around the Washington Monument, you can’t stand it any longer. 

“Sooooo. It seems like things are going well between you and your dad,” you say conversationally.

“How do you mean?” 

“Less awkward, I guess.”

“It’s not that we don’t get along,” Emma says with a shrug. “We always used to. Like I said, I always thought he was nice. My mom…” 

“She didn’t like him?”

“She didn’t want to be around him. I don’t know why. They tried to protect me from the messy parts of divorce, but part of that means that I have no idea what their history is. She never talked about it. Neither did he.”

“Huh.” You stare in silence at the large white obelisk. “I wonder what happened.”

“I thought about asking my mom,” Emma says. “Lots of times, but I never got up the courage.”

“You should ask him,” you say quietly. “I get the feeling he needs to tell the story.”

Emma gives you a funny look. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

You shrug. “I’m weird.”

“Fair.”

The two of you walk until it feels as though your feet are going to fall off. 

“My feet are going to fall off,” you announce. “Surely there are no more monuments in the entirety of Washington, DC.”

“We’ve still got the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.”

“Uggghhhh, how important can he be? He’s unknown.”

“This was your idea,” Emma points out. “Go to DC for spring break! Stay with my best friend’s estranged dad! Walk around and see all the monuments and shit!”

“Too many steps,” you groan. “They should all be concentrated in one square mile of land.”

“One more,” Emma promises. “And then spaghetti.”

“And laying on the couch watching TV,” you counter.

“And laying on the couch watching TV,” Emma agrees. “...And tomorrow we go to the zoo.”

“No!”

Marcus chuckles as you stumble into his condo just after six. You immediately collapse onto the couch with an exaggerated groan.

“I’m staying right here for the rest of the week,” you announce.

“It’s been one day,” Marcus points out. 

“My phone’s step counter measures over thirty thousand steps,” you mumble. “I’m done.”

“That’s a lot,” Marcus concedes. “Hopefully that means the two of you are hungry this evening.”

“Fucking starving,” Emma agrees, crashing onto the couch herself and nearly colliding with you as she does so. 

“Well, since everyone is so tired,” Marcus says, the playfulness evident in his voice, “I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Tamales are a group effort, so you two better be ready to work for your food.”

“I shall endeavor to do so,” Emma remarks with an exaggerated accent, causing you to laugh giddily. 

While Emma’s eyes are closed, you take advantage, watching Marcus–still with that same fitted white shirt–in the kitchen, boiling water, heating the sauce, and adding the meatballs. He must sense your gaze, because he turns, a characteristic crooked smile on his lips as he acknowledges you. 

“I know they’re frozen,” he admits, speaking of the meatballs, “but they always taste the same to me anyway.”

“I can’t wait,” you say, truthfully. “It’s been a long day.”

As if to demonstrate the fact, a loud snore emanates from the body next to you, making you grin.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Marcus says softly. “I don’t often have the opportunity to cook for… more than one.”

“No girlfriend?” you ask conversationally. 

Marcus laughs. “I’m… in between things, I suppose.”

“In between,” you parrot with a laugh. “How long have you been ‘in between?’”

He huffs. “Too long,” he murmurs. 

“How come?” you ask quietly.

Marcus frowns, thinking. “I dunno. No one recently has been… exactly what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?” you ask breathlessly.

“Spaghetti,” Emma mumbles from the couch.

“Spaghetti,” Marcus repeats, giving me a slightly melancholy smile. “Exactly. Come and get it, you two.”

Emma stirs, stumbling into the kitchen where two giant bowls of spaghetti and meatballs are awaiting the two of you.

“Holy shit,” she remarks. “Thanks for this.”

“Of course,” Marcus says. “I would never agree for you to stay and then not…” he trails off, unsure of himself.

You’re starting to realize that the bulk of Marcus’s most emotional statements go unsaid. I would ever agree for you to stay and then not take care of you, is what he hadn’t said. 

“Still doing the zoo tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject, as always.

“Yup,” Emma answers.

He huffs, smiling wistfully. “Been ages since I’ve been to a zoo.”

“D’you wanna go?” you ask, before you can determine that it’s a bad idea.

Marcus looks at you, indecisive for a few seconds before he seemingly comes to his senses. “Nah,” he says, grinning. “You two have fun.”

“Are you sure?” Emma asks. “Apparently there’s a new panda baby.”

“That’s a hard bargain,” he admits.

“You should come with,” Emma decides. “It could be fun.”

“All right,” Marcus agrees hesitantly.

“It’s Monday,” you point out. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ll call off,” he answers quickly. “Not everyday one’s daughter is in town for an impromptu zoo trip.”

“Look at the little lad,” Emma gushes. 

“The what?” Marcus asks. 

The three of you are staring at the panda enclosure, watching the newest addition to the zoo cause chaos.

“The chonky boi,” you agree.

“I have no idea what you two are saying,” Marcus admits. 

“The baby panda is cute,” Emma offers. 

“That I can agree on,” he decides.

The three of you, you’ve decided, make a good team. You try not to think about how your heart burns whenever Marcus looks at you, how your stomach does flips whenever he laughs. If you’re going to be a good friend to Emma–and you are–you’re going to have to put this silly crush aside and accept the fact that he’s a package deal with your best friend. 

That doesn’t stop the way the man looks at you, though. 

You think you’re imagining it, at first. After all, Marcus seems to be the type of person who focuses completely on whatever anyone has to say. The more you’re with him, though, it’s hard to deny that he seems to look at you just a tiny bit longer.

You start to notice it all day–when you’re looking at the exhibits, Marcus is looking at you. 

He’s watching your reaction to them–smiling when you smile, laughing when you laugh. You can’t parse out the meaning behind his actions–does it mean something? If so, what? What does it mean? 

You can’t admit the truth to yourself until you’re in the insect house. Emma is giddy with interest, and you… are trying. 

“Are you okay?” Marcus asks softly in your ear–and you try not to shiver.

“Great,” you squeak. “Just don’t love the bird-eating spider.”

“I don’t like them either,” he confesses with a smile. “Do you need to leave?”

“Idunno,” you mumble, slurring the words together. 

“Emmie,” Marcus announces, “we’re going to take a little break, okay?”

“Mmm.” 

You and Marcus escape into the bright sunshine, and you let out an awkward laugh. “I can’t believe they have some of them loose in there–without glass or anything!”

“I’m not going back in that building,” Marcus agrees, laughing with you. “The giant orb weaver was the last straw.”

“That was awful,” you say, nodding.

“Come to think of it, I might be more of a baby panda guy, myself.”

“I’ll take the snakes over this,” you agree.

You sit down on a nearby bench, still giggling together as you wait for Emma.

“Is it weird if I say I’m glad you came?” you ask quietly.

“I’m glad I came, too,” Marcus says beside you.

“I think–” you begin, but Emma emerges from the insect house, grinning ear to ear.

“You think… what?” Marcus asks, but you shake your head and shrug.

“I dunno,” you mumble. “I just… think.”

“Hey, wimps,” Emma shouts. “They let me touch the tarantula.”

Marcus takes the two of you out to dinner at a casual burger spot near his place. While the tension between him and Emma has lessened significantly since the first day, it feels as though it’s been replaced by a thick cloud of tension between the two of you. 

There’s something about the man that speaks to you, something within him that seems to vibrate on the same frequency as something within you. Twin souls, you’d say, if you were in a mind to be romantic, except… it can’t be. He must be nearly forty–and almost twice your age. There’s nothing you have that he would want–nothing you could offer a man who has his entire life together while yours has barely started.

Still, the way Marcus laughs at your jokes and gives you knowing glances–as if the two of you are sharing some type of inside joke that you’ve had for years–keeps you flustered and breathless throughout most of the evening.

The glass of wine he offers when you arrive home doesn’t help, either. You watch the red liquid swirl in your glass and wonder how it would taste from his lips, instead. And, when you’ve reached the bottom of your glass, the fuzzy-headed feeling you get from the alcohol combined with the way your stomach swoops in its place every time Marcus’s eyes meet yours has you feeling dizzy and enraptured in equal parts. 

When he locks eyes with you over the rim of his own glass as he drains the last sip, you freeze, afraid that you’d been caught out–that he can read every dumbstruck expression on your face and knows exactly what he does to you.

But all he does is shoot you a little smile, announce that he’s going to bed– “Back to work for me, tomorrow”–and leaves you in the living room alone with Emma, trying not to look as though you’re checking out her dad’s butt as he leaves the room. 

The next day, you and Emma spend most of the day at the Library of Congress while Marcus is at work. As a result, neither of you are too tired to help when Marcus suggests making the tamales tonight. 

“I’m going to preface this by saying I’m not very good at making these,” he says with a laugh as he struggles with the dough. “My grandma only made these on special occasions, and I’ve done it myself approximately two times without her.”

“Well, the good news is that I’ve got no frame of reference,” you tell him. “So as long as they’re edible, they’ll be the best tamales I’ve ever had.”

Marcus chuckles and ducks his head; you can see the pink tinge on the tips of his ears as he continues to stir the mixture.

“Emmie, do you want to do the dough or the filling?” he asks. 

“Filling.”

“That leaves you with the fun part,” Marcus says to you with a playful wink. “You get to spread the dough out on the corn husks like this–” he frowns as a glob of dough gets stuck to the spatula. “I told you I’m not very good at this. But you get the idea.”

You really don’t; cooking has never been your strong suit. You do your best to spread the dough out, but after just a couple of repetitions, your fingers, your shirt, and the counter around you are sticky with dough. 

“This is not going very well,” you mumble. 

Marcus looks up from the tamale he’s currently folding and laughs joyfully. “That’s part of the process.”

“I really don’t feel like it is,” you shoot back. “It’s sticking to everything but the corn husks.”

“Here,” Marcus chuckles. And suddenly, he’s right behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he reaches around you to gently guide your hands himself. “Like this.”

You can’t possibly focus on your task, not when you have to remind your body to keep breathing while Marcus’s hands are on you. Your eyes stare unseeingly down at the corn husk until he releases you. 

“Better?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” you hum, abnormally high-pitched.

“You’ve got some on your cheek,” he remarks with a soft smile. His thumb gently swipes across it, catching the stray dough and wiping it on a towel. 

In the end, the tamales are hideous, but they taste incredible. They might be the best meal you’ve ever had–or maybe it’s just the way Marcus had smiled proudly at you when your technique improved after his intervention.

After dinner, the three of you sit on the small couch and watch a movie.

“It’s in black and white,” Emma remarks, wrinkling her nose.

“Double Indemnity? It’s a classic!” Marcus protests.

“Old movies are always so boring,” Emma says. 

“It’s not boring,” he pouts. “The unhappy wife of a wealthy oil baron starts a dangerous, illicit love affair with an insurance salesman, and they hatch a plot to murder her husband and collect the insurance money.”

“That’s wild,” you laugh. “How have you seen this before?”

“I’ve always been told I’m an old soul.”

“Are you sure you’re not just old?” Emma teases.

“Hush. Watch the movie.”

The film is engaging, but all of the walking around of the past few days starts to catch up with you about halfway through. Before you know it, your eyes are drooping, and your head tips back on the couch cushion as you start to doze off. When you wake, the credits are rolling, and you’re no longer upright on the back of the couch.

You’re drooling on Marcus’s shoulder.

You startle, sitting back up with a frantic gasp and wiping your mouth in horror.

“Shh,” Marcus whispers, placing a calming hand on your forearm. “Emma fell asleep, too.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” you babble, taking in the little wet spot on his shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assures softly. “You’re tired. You needed the sleep.”

“Still,” you say. “I didn’t mean to…” you trail off awkwardly. 

“It’s okay,” Marcus repeats, even quieter still. His hand still rests on your forearm, his thumb subtly moving back and forth across your skin. 

Neither of you speak for what seems like an eternity, until finally, he breaks the spell.

“Should go to bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll wake up Emma. Go get some rest.”

“Marcus,” you whisper shakily.

“Go,” he whispers back. 

He squeezes your arm once, then releases you, and you reluctantly get up from the couch and cross to the guest bedroom door. You turn again, watching as Marcus gently smooths Emma’s hair back from her forehead as he rouses her from the couch. There’s so much tenderness in his eyes, and you wonder how much different he might be if Emma had been a more constant presence in his life. He seems so lonely–does he have friends outside of work, you wonder? Does he ever date? 

Emma sits up blearily and pads across the living room, walking past you and collapsing on the bed. You take one last look at Marcus, and follow her. 

The next morning, you feel as though you could cut the tension between you and Marcus with a knife. There’s something there–and you both know it. He seems to be doing his best to ignore it, avoiding eye contact with you, and busying himself with pouring a thermos of coffee and messing with his tie absentmindedly as he gets ready to leave for work. 

“Where are you off to today?” he comments lightly.

“Smithsonian,” Emma answers. 

“Sounds fun. I’ve got a deposition this afternoon that’s probably going to run late, so go ahead and grab something for dinner while you’re out. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

The only time Marcus’s eyes fall on you is in the moment just before he steps through the front door. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, and glances back in your direction, dark eyes watching you for a moment before he nods subtly and leaves.

It’s funny how just a simple, seconds-long moment of eye contact with this man can turn your insides to jelly. Your breath stutters as the door clicks shut, and you try to gather yourself again.

“What’s first?” Emma asks. “Natural History or Air and Space?”

You put Marcus out of your mind for most of the day, although he’s never far away; you’re able to call up the feel of his hand on your forearm at any given moment. You can imagine the burn of his eyes even as you walk through exhibit after exhibit.

True to his word, he’s not home for dinner. You and Emma grab sandwiches from a shop around the corner and eat them in the living room in front of the TV. It’s nearly seven when Marcus finally gets home, opening the door and greeting the two of you with a tired smile and a heavy sigh.

“How did it go?” Emma asks.

“Shit,” he answers, shooting her a crooked grin. “But I’ve got leftover tamales to look forward to, so the day is looking up.”

You watch another movie–Emma’s choice this time, and something a bit more current. You don’t fall asleep this time; you can’t, not with the way your body feels on high alert tonight. Marcus is sitting beside you again, as he was the night before, and all you can think about is how much you want to sink into his arms again–and this time, intentionally. You want to lay on his chest and have him wrap his arms around you; you want him to slowly turn and press you down on the cushions, to feel the weight of him on top of you, the light scrape of his beard on your neck, his breath in your ear.

A wave of arousal washes over you, heating your skin and sending a little trickle of damp into your underwear. You wonder if Marcus can feel it–feel the elevated warmth of your skin from where he’s sitting. You wonder if he can tell how much he affects you. 

When the movie ends, you can barely meet his eyes as you bid him goodnight, following Emma to your room. You can’t turn around to see if he’s watching you; you can’t stand another glance at that deep, burning gaze of his. 

Sleep evades you. You’re too hot, so you kick off the covers. Then you’re too cold, so you cover up again. You flip over the pillow, turn from your back to your stomach, and back again. The fantasy plays once more in your head: Marcus’s hand cradling the back of your neck as he kisses a path down your neck and to your chest. You want to feel the weight of him between your thighs, feel him pressing against your core. You’re dripping for him, and he doesn’t even know it. 

No one has ever done this to you, but he has. And he hasn’t even touched you. 

You wonder if he’d be bothered by the fact that you aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing in that department. You wonder if he’d be put off by your inexperience, or if he’d be happy to guide you in the act of pleasure. 

You’ve had a couple of fumbling encounters, rushed, frenzied moments as a teenager with boys who haphazardly stuffed a finger or two into you, but it didn’t feel like anything to you. Not really. No one has ever made you cum–just you, in the safety of your own bed at night, your fingers seeking relief that no one else has been able to provide.

Could he give it to you?

Your past experiences have been with boys; and Marcus is a man. 

Your legs shift, rubbing your thighs against each other as you try to find a more comfortable position.

You can’t find one.

Eventually, you give up–getting out of bed with a sigh. Maybe if you grab a drink of water and sit on the couch for a while, sleep will win out in the end. You pad into the kitchen, filling a cup in the sink and taking a few long sips. The cool water is a relief, so you run your hand underneath the water next and scrub it over your face. Finally sated, you set the cup down by the sink and turn.

To see Marcus sitting on the couch, dimly lit by the glow of his laptop screen.

You nearly double over with shock, the unexpected sight causing a spike of adrenaline to course through your body.

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. “Couldn’t sleep, so I was… catching up on work.”

The mirror image of a popular news site reflects through the glass picture frame behind the couch, exposing the tiny lie.

“Yeah, me neither,” you admit quietly. “Thought I’d sit out here for a while and see if that helps, but… sorry, I’ll leave you to it.” You make to turn back, to retreat to the room again, but Marcus speaks softly behind you.

“Come sit,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

Breath caught somewhere in your throat, you hesitantly sink down on the couch beside him. Marcus closes his laptop and sets it down on the coffee table, and the silence stretches out between you. 

“So, are you liking DC so far?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer eagerly. “I’m having a great time. I’ll… I’ll be sad to leave,” you admit. “Is that weird?”

“It’s weird if you’re talking about missing the Washington Monument,” Marcus teases. “Or the traffic.”

“I’m talking about the metro, obviously,” you joke. “The rest of the country could stand for some public transit options.”

“I’m not sure they should be taking their cues from DC,” he chuckles. 

“Pssh, I like it.”

“The novelty wears off, believe me.”

You lapse into silence again. You’re sitting close enough to Marcus that you can feel the warmth from his skin, even though you aren’t touching. You want to sink into him, to have him envelop you, consume you.

You feel yourself unconsciously shifting closer to him. 

Is it just your imagination, or did Marcus subtly lean closer to you?

The pull is inevitable; your eyes flick up to his, and you can almost feel the point of no return pass the two of you by. 

You lick your lips, and his breath catches in his throat.

“I wasn’t talking about the metro,” you say breathlessly. 

“I know.”

And suddenly, his lips are on yours. 

It’s not fast, not rushed or frantic; he doesn’t surge forward to take you. It’s simply that the two of you are close enough that at one moment, Marcus Pike is not kissing you, and then the next moment, he is. 

As with everything this man does, the kiss is soft and tender. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he gently tits his head as his lips move against yours. His mouth opens ever so slightly, and you feel a wave of pure want rush through you at the light flick of his tongue against your lower lip.

You make a ragged sound in your chest as your lips part for him, and your tongues slide against each other for far too short of a time before Marcus pulls back, suddenly, his eyes full of worry.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “Shit, we… we shouldn’t.”

This time, you kiss him back. The neck of his soft t-shirt crumples in your fist as you pull him closer, opening your mouth to him, and his protests die at the feel of your lips on his. Instead, it seems to light a fire within him; one hand curls around the back of your neck and the other grips your hip and you gasp softly into his mouth at the feel of his hands on your body. 

Marcus breaks the kiss again, but instead of pulling back to give you more reasons why you can’t, this time he kisses a path across your cheek and down your neck. You’ve imagined the way his light beard would feel against your skin so many times over the last couple of days, but nothing compares to the reality of having him gently scrape his teeth against your neck as you arch your back to him. 

“Fuck,” Marcus whispers. “So sweet, honey.”

You whimper at the term of endearment as Marcus gently starts to shift positions, turning and guiding you down onto the couch, just as you’d imagined. 

Now that you’re horizontal, the kisses that started out tender and sweet start to grow more and more lascivious. You can feel the weight of him between your legs and his hot length pressing against you, his hips rocking slightly as he lazily explores you with his hands and his mouth. 

One hand creeps up your inner thigh and slips under your thin sleep shorts and underwear, gently grazing your folds and feeling the obscene amount of slick that’s already gathered there. 

“Shit,” Marcus hisses softly, reverently. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet?”

“You,” you answer earnestly, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

He laughs breathlessly in response, his eyes raking up and down your body, taking in your nipples peeking through the threadbare material of your tank top. His finger explores deeper, slipping inside your tight channel and immediately finding… something… that makes you gasp raggedly. 

“So responsive,” he murmurs playfully. “I’ve barely touched you.” He starts to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit as he rubs against that little spot inside of you every time, and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and cling to him as this one little movement threatens to take you apart. 

“Honey,” he whispers disbelievingly as he feels you start to tighten around him. “Already?”

“I–” 

Whatever you had been about to say dies on your lips as you suddenly fall over the edge, shaking as the pleasure overtakes you. Marcus soothes you through it, whispering in your ear as you come down from your high.

“Wow,” you murmur. “Holy shit, that was amazing.”

Marcus pulls back and gives you a funny look. “What’s going on?” he asks, frowning slightly.

“Heh–you’re going to laugh,” you say, giving him an awkward grimace. 

He raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’ve–kind of never done this before,” you admit, pressing your lips together sheepishly. 

“Oh shit,” Marcus breathes, sitting up fully as his eyes frantically sweep over you. “Oh, honey–no. I can’t–we can’t do this.”

“Why?” you ask, wincing internally at how whiny it comes out.

“It can’t–it shouldn’t be me,” he says softly. “That’s more than I deserve to take.”

“You’re not taking anything,” you protest. “I–I want it to be you.”

Marcus shakes his head again, but you can see the cracks in his resolve, the way his eyes are searching you, devouring you with his gaze.

“I don’t want it to be some boy at a frat party back home,” you tell him. “I want you. I want it to feel good. Please?”

Marcus’s expression is inscrutable as his eyes rake over your form, disheveled and sated, underneath him. Your heart sinks when he stands up, shame sinking down into the pit of your stomach, but then he extends his hand to you, and you look up at him, questioning. 

“I’m not going to let your first time be a quick fuck on my couch,” he says quietly and resolute. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to bed.”

Wordlessly, you accept his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet. You wobble slightly, still shaky from the orgasm, and Marcus draws you into his side, steadying you. He guides you forward, keeping you close as the two of you walk to his bedroom. 

Despite the fact that you were more than ready to let this man take you right there on the couch, the change in venue has your heart hammering in your chest. Now, it feels real. It feels intentional. 

“C’mere, beautiful,” Marcus murmurs when he feels your steps falter. His hand slides up your arm and across your shoulder until it curls gently around your neck, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your skin. He presses a couple of soft, chaste kisses across your opposite shoulder, and your lips part of their own accord. 

“I need you to tell me if you don’t want to do this,” he says softly in your ear.

“I want–”

“I know, I know,” Marcus interrupts. “I want you to tell me if that changes.”

He gently guides you onto his bed, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from going too fast. 

“I wanna know what you like,” he murmurs as he hovers over you again, his hand coming up underneath the thin material of your top. “I wanna know what you don’t like.” 

“I–I don’t really know–”

“I know,” Marcus grins wolfishly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s the idea.”

He starts to push the material of your shirt up, up, up, until your nipples are pebbling in the cool air of his bedroom. He gently pulls it over your head and casts it aside, looking down at you with undisguised hunger. He trails the backs of his fingers down the side of one breast and underneath. “I get to find out what you like,” he says. He circles one areola with the tip of his finger, making you shiver. “And I get to be the first to do it.”

He gently drags the pad of his finger across the little bud of your nipple, and you gasp for him as if you’d hit a live wire. 

“I’m gonna take a guess and say you liked that,” he teases. 

“Marcus,” you whine. 

“Shh,” he whispers again, just before his mouth engulfs your nipple. Your hand darts out unconsciously, tangling in the hair on the back of Marcus’s neck as you squirm under his hot tongue. You can’t tell whether you want to pull away or push toward him, but in reality all you do is whine and take what he gives you. He switches to the other one; lathing and flicking his tongue and pressing down until you whimper.

“So… fucking… responsive,” Marcus murmurs in between kisses as he starts to mouth his way down your belly to the band of your sleep shorts. His fingers dip underneath, poised to pull them down over your hips, but he waits–eyes flicking up to yours to gauge your reaction. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks quietly.

“I-If you want,” you laugh shakily. 

“If I want?” he parrots disbelievingly. “You’re saying that like it’s not a given–like I haven’t been thinking of burying my tongue in that sweet little pussy all night. If I want,” he chuckles to himself again, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs. “I need to taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my tongue. The first one was kind of a surprise, and all I want is to feel you shaking again.”

You’re bare before him, but you don’t have any time to be self-conscious, because Marcus is laying back down on the bed, his face inches away from your pussy. He gently guides your legs over his shoulders before lowering his mouth to you. 

You aren’t sure who groans louder at the first touch of his tongue through your folds. 

Marcus makes a pained noise in his throat before murmuring, “So sweet, honey–fuck, you’re so sweet.”

His tongue is delicate, but precise; he flicks it back and forth against your clit, then dips down to lap at your entrance until you’re trembling for him. He’s tireless and patient, cataloging every whimper and moan he pulls from you as the pleasure slowly builds inside of you. In no time at all, you’re dangling on the precipice, your hips locking into place as you start to reach the point of no return. 

“I–I–” you stammer, trying to warn him.

Marcus hums enthusiastically in agreement, concentrating his efforts on your clit until you fall apart with a gasp.

He groans again, licking you through each little aftershock of pleasure until you’re boneless. 

“You squeeze me so hard,” he croons. “Can you feel that? You’re so tight around my tongue.”

“Shit…” you murmur. You’re too fucked-out to say anything else. 

“Gonna have to open you up a bit with my fingers,” he says softly. “So I don’t hurt you.”

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. He’s still clothed–wearing sweatpants and a shirt, while you’re completely naked, and you frown slightly at the disparity.

“Everything okay?” Marcus asks, seeing your expression. 

“Can–Can I see you? You’re so… clothed,” you say with a little pout. 

He laughs, smiling widely so that the corners of his eyes crinkle, and your heart soars. 

“Of course,” he agrees, stripping off his shirt. “Of course.”

You raise up on one elbow, gazing up at Marcus’s broad chest, the light smattering of hair, and the soft swell of his belly. You can’t help but reach up and touch him, pressing your palm to his sternum and trailing down, tracing the little path of hair until it disappears under the band of his sweatpants. Your fingers curl underneath the band, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“These, too?” he asks with a teasing chuckle, smiling wider when you nod eagerly. 

His cock bobs free as he pushes his pants down his hips, and your eyes widen at the sight of him, thick and hard and heavy with want. Curiously, you wrap your hand around him, and you’re rewarded with a little ‘hnnngg’ of pleasure and surprise as you touch him. 

You gently trace the little ridges on his shaft, traveling up to the flushed, purple head, where the skin is even softer, and back down again.

“F-Fuck,” Marcus muttters. “Can’t do that too much, honey, or I’m gonna lose it before we even get started.”

“I like it,” you say with a little giggle. “I never realized they were so… soft.”

Marcus makes a broken, choked sound. “Jesus. You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

He falls onto one elbow, giving you a messy, passionate kiss before sucking his fingers into his mouth and gently sinking one finger into you again. His lips stay close to yours, noses almost touching, his eyes watching your face intently as he slowly opens you up. His fingers are so thick, and just like before, he seems to know exactly where to press up inside you to make the pleasure spark inside of you. He adds a second finger, and you whimper–you're already so full. 

"Little bit more," Marcus murmurs. "Doing so well for me–fuck–so tight."

He gently starts to slide a third into you, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit to offer some relief.

“Is it greedy if I say I want you to cum for me again?” he asks softly. “I want to feel it again. Can you do that for me?”

You nod dazedly–wanting to do anything, everything this man asks as long as he keeps making you feel like this. 

His fingers press up against your walls again, and you sob loudly into the room.

Marcus immediately muffles the sound with a kiss, swallowing your whimpers and cries in an attempt to keep the sound from carrying across the apartment. 

“Gotta stay quiet for me,” he whispers against your lips. 

“S-Sorry.”

“No, shh, don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “I wish you could be loud. Wish I could make you scream for me. Just–fuck, honey, you’re right there, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing me–fuck, you get so wet. Give me one more. One more, and I’ll give you my cock. That’s it, that’s–yes–” 

Marcus breaks off on a groan as you clamp down on his fingers. It’s so much, you’re so full, and you buck against his hand, your lower back rising up off of the bed as he pulls it from you. 

You slump back down, breathing heavily, as he carefully withdraws his fingers. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying to get your attention. “Hey, I should have asked this sooner, but–are you on birth control? Do you want me to use a condom?”

“I-I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “If you… you know, if you didn’t want to. That would be–I’d like that.”

“That’s perfect,” he whispers, giving you a tender kiss. “I’d like that, too.” He pauses, and mutters a soft curse under his breath. “I wish I had some lube,” he remarks. “Just to be sure I don’t hurt you.”

You watch as he spits on his cock and takes himself in hand. 

“This will have to do, though,” he says as he slicks it over his cock and crawls over you. “And I’ll just go slow.”

He cups the back of your neck with one hand as he lines himself up with the other. His lips are inches from yours, but he doesn’t lean down to kiss you–no, he seems to want to watch your reaction as the tip of his cock notches at your entrance. 

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers again.

“You could never hurt me,” you say confidently, and you watch as his lips part in surprise. “Marcus–” you add, as you shift your hips impatiently. “–just do it.”

Your eyes widen as you feel him push into you, his girth splitting you open. It can’t be much bigger than three of his thick fingers, but still, it just feels like more. It’s longer, certainly; he keeps pushing in, and even when you’re sure he’s reached the end, there’s still more. 

“Oh wow,” you hear yourself murmuring again and again. “Oh, Marcus.” 

“I know,” he returns, kissing your cheekbone, your forehead, your nose, and then finally, your lips. “I know, honey.”

He starts to rock his hips, slowly undulating them, letting his cock drag back and forth against your walls. It feels incredible–you never imagined how fucking good this would feel–and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s because it’s him. It’s Marcus–a man you’ve admittedly only known for a few days, but you feel as though you know him already–and you trust him completely. 

“Does it hurt at all?” he rumbles softly in your ear.

“No,” you answer emphatically. “It feels–holy shit.”

Marcus laughs breathlessly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can–can we do this again?”

He chuckles. “We’re currently doing this.”

“I already want it again.”

He starts to go a little harder, his thrusts a little deeper. His hand grips your hip for leverage, the other still cradling the back of your neck. He kisses you, a deep, messy, passionate thing, before burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking a gentle mark into your skin.

“Feels so good,” he murmurs. “I’m not gonna last, not when you feel like this.”

“Like how?” you ask, smiling widely. 

“So fucking tight,” Marcus groans. “And wet, and hot, and–” he brings his thumb to your clit and starts to rub little circles around it. “I need you to cum again,” he says. “Fuck, you–you feel too good, honey, I’m not gonna last.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you murmur. 

“Please,” he says, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Please, baby, you’ve gotta do this one last thing for me. Let me feel it, let me make you feel good. Let me–let me–”

Your mouth falls open as you feel it wash over you. This is better than anything you’ve ever felt before, any relief you’ve been able to seek with your fingers–the drag of his cock along your walls only serves to prolong your pleasure, making each little aftershock feel like a new wave of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus groans. “Fuck.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he shoves his hips into you one more time, emptying himself within you with a deep groan. 

The aftermath is quiet. After gently, tenderly cleaning you up with a damp cloth, Marcus collapses on the pillows and pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you as you settle with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Was this a bad idea?” you ask quietly as you trace little shapes on his chest.

Marcus huffs a laugh. “Probably,” he answers.

“I don’t care,” you say resolutely, causing his hold on you to tighten. “...Do you regret it?” you ask, feeling unsure of yourself again.

“No,” Marcus says immediately. “No. I was drawn to you from the beginning. I’m sorry, I–I should have tried harder to prevent this, but…”

“I felt it, too,” you murmur. “Maybe we weren’t meant to prevent it.”

The two of you bask in the afterglow, reveling in the feel of your bodies pressed together. You can’t help but think of how tender, how loving he is–not just with you, but with Emma.

“Can I ask a personal question?” you ask, breaking the silence.

Marcus shrugs. “Sure.”

“This is probably weird to be thinking about right now, but… why does Emma’s mom not want you around?”

 Marcus sighs, his lips pressing into your forehead–not really a kiss, just a caress of your hairline with his mouth.

“That story doesn’t exactly paint me in the best light.”

“I want to know. I just… don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” he asks.

“You’re… you’re such a good dad–a good man. I don’t understand how her mom wanted nothing to do with you. I just don’t get it.”

Marcus nods, pressing his lips together. “I wasn’t always a good man,” he says quietly. “I tried to do the best I could for the both of them–for Emma and her mom–but I’m afraid I fell very short, in the beginning.”

“What happened?”

“We were in college when we found out she was pregnant,” Marcus says with a sigh. “She was nineteen, I was almost twenty-one. We hadn’t been together long; maybe a couple of months. She was terrified, of course–and so was I, but never told her that. I asked her to marry me because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Did you love her?”

“I cared for her, very much so. And even if we weren’t quite right for each other, knowing–” Marcus swallows thickly, “–knowing our child, my child, was growing inside of her made me feel deeply connected. If you had asked me at twenty-one, I would have sworn up and down that I was in love.”

“But not now?”

Marcus huffs softly. “I know a little better, now.”

“What happened?” you ask, tracing the line of his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “What did you do?”

“Well, the first thing I did was drop out of art school,” he says with a little laugh. “Didn’t think it would pay the bills, especially not with a wife and a baby.”

“You were an artist?” you ask, surprised.

“Wanted to be,” he chuckled. “At least at that time. So instead, I applied for the FBI. Joined the Art Crimes division. And shortly after I completed training… Emma was born.” His eyes are far away, a small smile on his face as he remembers. “And she was perfect. And I remember thinking, all the struggling, all the hardship, all the times Denise and I didn’t get along… it would be worth it, in the end. No matter what happened; because I had her.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “What went wrong?”

“Nothing in particular, at first. We struggled to make ends meet. We were two young parents with no idea what we were doing, and even though I might have known deep down that we weren’t right for each other, I just wanted it to go right. I wanted us to be happy, but in the end we were just too different. We didn’t work–and while I might have been blind to it at the time, Denise wasn’t. When Emma was barely even two, she filed for divorce, and I–” he sighs heavily again. “I went a little off the rails.”

You tilt your head and look up at Marcus. His eyes are stormy, and you can see the remorse etched into the lines of his face. You don’t ask how, you just wait patiently for him to continue.

“I didn’t want to be divorced at twenty-three. This wasn’t–it wasn’t the life I had expected for myself, not what I would have chosen, but because I had Emma, I didn’t want anything else. I always knew I would want a family, and so what if it happened… a little out of order?”

“What did you do?” you whispered.

“I tried to convince her to change her mind. She took Emma and went to live with her parents, and I’d call them every day, asking to talk to her. I wanted to persuade her–I thought that if she could just see that we had plenty of time, we could raise Emma and be good parents and still… still have time for whatever we wanted. That we could still build lives.

“When she never returned my calls, I started stopping by,” he confesses, his voice even quieter. “They’d always tell me she was out, so I started showing up at odd hours, trying to… trying to just catch her one time–I thought if I explained that she could do whatever she wanted, as long as we could just stay together and raise Emma, she’d agree. But the more I tried to contact her, the more she pulled away, and rightly so, honestly. I was badgering her. I tried to justify it at the time, said I was doing it all for Emma, but I, uh… It took me until much later to admit I was actually doing it for me. I was so scared of being a failure, and scared to be alone.

“Anyway, the court didn’t look very kindly on what looked to everyone involved like stalking behavior, and Denise was afforded full custody.”

“M-Marcus,” you murmur, unable to help the water gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“Broke my heart,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “And I was angry about it for a while, but when it comes down to it, I was just angry with myself. It was my actions that lost me my daughter, and… well, I’ve had twenty years to come to terms with that, now.”

“How did you finally… come to face all of that?” you ask quietly.

“Therapy,” Marcus says with a genuine laugh. “And that is another story for another time.”

“God, what else happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, “just another relationship that I fought way too hard for.” He playfully runs his finger down the bridge of your nose before tilting your chin upward for a soft kiss. “And you,” he murmurs, “need to go back to bed.”

Your emotions still running on high alert after Marcus’s emotional confession of his past, you surge forward and throw your arms around his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

“I’m okay,” he promises. “It was a long time ago.”

“You should tell Emma,” you say softly. “She never knew why her mom didn’t want you around.”

“Not really something you want to tell your daughter,” he says with a sad smile. “That you basically stalked her mom.”

“She’s grown up. She’s older than her mom was when–”

“Believe me, I know,” Marcus groans. “Don’t remind me; it makes this feel very… wrong.” He gestured between the two of you.

“Just trust me,” you murmur. “She’d want to know.” With herculean effort, you extricate yourself from his arms, grab your clothes, and redress. Feeling unsure in the way the conversation ended, you tell yourself not to turn around again when your hand lands on the doorknob.

“Honey,” Marcus calls out softly from the bed. “Good night.”

“Good night,” you whisper back, and then you’re gone.

“Where are you two off to, today?” Marcus asks conversationally over coffee. He’s made it stronger than usual today, and it makes warmth pool deep in your stomach at the reminder of your very sleepless night last night. You’re grateful for the extra boost of caffeine as well, of course–the morning seemed to come far too early after being up half of the night. Sleep had still been hard to come by when you finally returned to the guest room, after all; the conversation about Marcus’s past was still swirling around in your head, and every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel his hands on you. 

You never knew it could feel like this, never knew how good it could be with someone who really knew what they were doing. Someone so giving, so gentle and yet so ruthless in pursuing your pleasure. Someone brimming with passion, capable of both the softest prase and the most depraved filth in the same sentence.

If you had thought your thirst would be sated after finally getting what you’d fantasized about and more, you were a fool. The flame burns hotter than ever this morning, and the sight of Marcus in a suit with not a hair out of place only makes you think about how he had looked between your legs last night–that devilish smirk as he teased about wanting to taste you.

You wonder if you’ll ever see him that way again, or if last night was a fluke. 

Had he noticed when your fingers had trembled around the coffee cup he handed you? 

He had given you a soft, tender stare when you had first entered the kitchen, but that’s the only evidence you can find so far that Marcus is even half as affected as you feel. You can still feel him this morning, a subtle ache between your legs when you sit down, and you wish you could see some outward sign on him that this actually happened.

“Not really sure,” Emma answers Marcus’s question. “Kind of ran out of stuff to see.”

“Impossible,” Marcus chuckles. “Well, you can hang out here if you want, or if you're really looking for a distraction, you can come to the office with me.”

“The fucking FBI office?” Emma asks. “Are we allowed?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?” Marcus shrugs. “Plus, I might be able to set up some time for you to talk to someone in Legal,” he says to you. “Are you still interested in that?”

“Oh wow,” you breathe. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies. “I said I would.”

You nod, smiling up at him beatifically. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “Well, if you’re coming, we’re going to need to leave soon. Are you almost ready?”

“I’m ready,” Emma announces, shouldering her bag.

“Yeah, me too.”

Marcus winks at you, and you try not to let yourself react to it.

“Let’s go, then.”

You had assumed that you’d spend most of your day at the FBI holed up in Marcus’s office, doing nothing. You had imagined that, out of necessity, you’d be barred from attending any meetings or hearing about his department’s day-to-day activities, but when you arrive, his team seems enthusiastic to have you and Emma there. Much to your surprise, they even let the two of you sit in the back of the room while Marcus conducts a briefing. 

You listen, enthralled, as he discusses a recent forgery case that the team is working on. His demeanor, as it is at home, is good-natured and easygoing. He’s easy to smile, and engaging when he talks, and as a result, he utterly commands the room. His style of quiet, unassuming authority has you subtly squirming in your chair. Even though you have no idea what’s being discussed, you can tell simply by listening to his cadence of speech that he’s incredibly knowledgeable, and fucking good at his job. It’s clear he loves the work–and when you think back to the night before and his whispered confession that he had once dreamed of being an artist, you find yourself beaming with happiness that he’s clearly found something he loves to do. 

“People change.”

You suddenly recall his words the very first night you were there–his assurance that it didn’t matter that you had no idea what you wanted to do at your age, because there’s no promise that you’ll still want the same things in ten years. After last night, you realize that he was talking about himself in that moment.

You hope he’s happy and fulfilled.

He deserves it.

You watch him wrap up the meeting–delegating work to each member of the team and asking for updates–and every so often, as his eyes sweep around the room, they always seem to land on you.

As he promised, Marcus introduces you to Kimberley Alexander, the lawyer that his department works with most of the time. You’re nervous at first–you aren’t sure what you’re going to talk about, but you end up staying in her office through lunch, spending almost an hour and a half longer than you had intended, talking about potential jobs with the FBI.

Not because you suddenly have the desire to return to Washington, DC as soon as you can, nope. It does interest you–quite a bit, actually–but you can’t pretend that you aren’t excited at the prospect of living in the same city as Marcus. Would he want to see you again? Is he really interested in you, or is it just the forced proximity–because you’re convenient and available? If you had your own life here, would he be interested in a place in it?

When you find Emma and her dad again, they’ve clearly just come back from lunch. Emma thrusts a container into your hands, which you discover, with an exaggerated moan of satisfaction, is pad Thai.

“Must have been a good talk,” Marcus remarks. 

“Yeah, you were there for two hours,” Emma adds.

“It was good,” you nod. “Talked about, y’know, internships and stuff.”

“You wanna live here?” Emma asks, looking surprised and curious.

You try to shrug noncommittally. “Sure,” you say lightly. “It’s as good a place as any, and it would be kind of fun to work for the FBI, right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you an unbiased answer to that,” Marcus says with a wry smile, “but I think you’d be a great fit.”

Your heart swells at his words. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he says earnestly. “And I hate to do this, but I’ve gotta run to do a witness interview, and you guys have to stay behind this time.”

You watch as Marcus gives Emma a quick kiss on the forehead, and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the action. They’ve gotten more comfortable around each other in the time you’ve been here, but neither of them had seemed to be very comfortable with physical affection. Marcus, for his part, is always so hesitant–wanting to reach out, but seemingly afraid that he doesn’t deserve it, or worse, that it won’t be received well. You still remember the first day you saw him–when his hand twitched toward his daughter, seemingly desperate to wrap her in a hug, but he hadn’t allowed himself to do it.

What changed?

Marcus glances at you, and gives you a slightly awkward, stiff nod before leaving for his meeting.

You busy yourself with eating lunch, digging into the container they brought you.

“Tomorrow’s the last day, huh?” Emma says conversationally.

You gulp. You’ve purposefully been putting the fact that your time here has an expiration date at the back corner of your mind. Whatever you have with Marcus, it’s temporary by its very nature, and you know it.

You just don’t really want to think about it right now.

“Yup,” you agree, mouth full of noodles. 

“What do you wanna do? I’m kind of out of ideas.”

You shrug. “We could ask Marcus if there’s anything he recommends seeing that we haven’t already been to.”

“I think we should go as far out as the metro line goes,” Emma says.

“Why?”

She shrugs. “See where we end up.”

“Whatever you want,” you tell her. “Last day is up to you.”

“How’s the pad Thai?”

“Good,” you nod, mouth full. “What’d you get?”

“Calamari,” she answers. “Never had it, wanted to try it.”

“How was it?”

“Chewy.”

You laugh, taking another bite of noodles. “Think I’ll stick to my favorite.”

The two of you huddle together on the small, two-seater couch in Marcus’s office, watching YouTube videos and laughing together until he comes back near the end of the day.

Your eyes automatically brighten when you see him return, drinking in the sight of him–the crisp lines of his suit paired with the slightly unruly hair. You discovered last night how soft it is, and how much he loves it when you thread your fingers through it and tug gently. 

He meets your eyes, but quickly drops his gaze, and you try not to sink in disappointment. Did it not mean as much to him as it did to you? Or is he just better at hiding it?

“You two hungry for dinner?” he asks, putting his stuff back in his messenger back and throwing it over his shoulder.

Emma groans loudly beside you. “Gonna be honest, I’m not really feeling dinner.”

“That was a lot of pad Thai,” you agree.

“Good,” Marcus says with a smile. “Me neither. Let’s go home and have a lazy night eating popcorn on the couch.”

The moment you arrive home, though, Emma makes a beeline for the bathroom. 

“She okay?” Marcus asks you.

You grimace at the faint sounds of retching. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

When she emerges again, Marcus hands her a glass of water with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”

“No,” she mutters pitifully.

“Was it the calamari?” you ask.

“Please don’t say that word ever again,” Emma groans, flopping down on the couch. “Fuck. Everything hurts.”

“What do you need?” Marcus asks, looking a little lost.

“Distraction,” she mumbles. “Long movie or something.”

Emma takes up the entire couch, so you and Marcus have to sit in opposite armchairs while you watch Lord of the Rings. It’s almost unbearable to you, being so close to him and yet not being able to touch, not being able to look at him for fear of giving everything away. If you two were to lock eyes, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide your reaction to him. So much so that even Emma, who’s still alternating between running to the bathroom and collapsing on the couch, would have no choice but to notice. 

The pull to him feels overwhelming; the only thing you can think of doing is crossing the living room and sinking into his arms. It makes you feel guilty–your best friend has food poisoning, Marucs is trying to help by refilling her water and encouraging her to drink, and here you are, with nothing to do but yearn for your best friend’s dad. 

When the movie is over, it’s late; Marcus brushes Emma’s hair back from her forehead and suggests she go lie down. As she’s stumbling toward the guest room, Marcus touches you for the first time since last night–lightly wrapping his fingers around your wrist while Emma isn’t looking.

Your eyes meet, and he gives you a coal-black stare, trying to communicate without speaking. He nods subtly, and his meaning is easy to understand.

Come to me tonight.

You come to him in the dead of night. You lie awake, listening for Emma’s breathing to even out, and then waiting another thirty minutes after that, just to be safe. 

It’s nearly midnight when you slip into Marcus’s bedroom, but he’s still awake; his lamp is on, and he’s reading a book.

Waiting for you. 

The moment the door creaks open, Marcus casts the book aside without even marking his place, and rises to his feet. He strides forward and you meet him in the middle, a clash of mouths and hands as you come together desperately. 

“Fuck,” he whispers against your lips. “All fucking day, all I could think about was this.”

“Me too,” you mumble hastily in between kisses. 

“No idea how hard it was to concentrate on giving that meeting this morning,” he confesses, “with you in the corner looking at me with those eyes of yours.” 

He grabs your top and pulls it over your head in one swift motion and ducks down to lathe his tongue against your nipple, making you arch against him. 

“Ah!–Really?” you gasp. “I didn’t–you looked so… calm the whole day. Like it didn’t affect you the same way it affects me.”

“Doesn’t affect me?” Marcus repeats incredulously. “Honey, I am out of my mind with wanting you.” He pulls back, his palms cradling your cheeks as he stares at you with a disbelieving smile. “Do you not have any idea what you do to me?” he asks softly. 

Stunned, you shake your head.

Marcus laughs breathlessly, as he reaches down to encircle your wrist with one large hand and brings your hand forward to press against the front of his pants, where you can feel him, hard and straining against the fabric. “You feel that?” he rasps. “Do you fucking feel what you do to me?”

He shoves your flimsy sleep shorts down your legs and all but tosses you onto the bed. He strips off his own shirt and follows you down. “I’ve been half-hard all day,” he confesses. “I had to fuck my own hand in the shower this morning and still,” he groans. “As soon as I picture your face as you fall apart for me, I’m done for.”

“You thought about that?” 

“All fucking day,” Marcus promises. 

“That all you thought about?” you ask, your voice turning coy as you gain more confidence.

He chuckles darkly. “Thought about a lot of things,” he murmurs.

“Such as…?”

“Just–all the ways I want to have you.” 

“Show me,” you demand.

Marcus chuckles again. “Show you what, pretty girl?”

“All the ways that you want me.”

“That would take a lot more time than we currently have,” he says wryly. 

“Then show me how you want me most,” you say. 

“Let me get you ready first,” Marcus murmurs, starting to kiss a path down your body, intent on his destination. 

“No.”

“Hmm?”

“I want it now,” you say frankly.

“Honey–” he protests softly.

“Consider the fact that I’ve done nothing but think about what happened last night and fantasize about what’s going to happen tonight foreplay,” you tell him. “I can’t–I can’t wait. I don’t want it to be slow. I need–I need—” you trail off, searching for how exactly to find the words for what it is that you need. 

Marcus nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he watches you plead for him to take you now.

“You really want me to show you?” he asks quietly.

You nod.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, honey.”

You comply with a shiver, your heart in your throat as you turn around and put yourself on display for him.

Marcus mutters a soft curse behind you as his palm strokes up the skin on the back of your thigh and up over the swell of your cheek. 

You hear him spit in his hand, and you know he's coating himself in it behind you, easing his way in. He does it again, and this time you whimper softly as he cups you, transferring more wetness to your folds. 

"Already so wet," he teases softly. "Tell me if it's too much."

He slides forward, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, and your elbows nearly buckle at the overwhelming feel of it. 

Marcus doesn't wait for you to adjust, this time. He starts thrusting right away, his hands grasping your hips for leverage. He's pressing right on the spot that makes pleasure sing throughout your entire body. Once he's sure that his pace isn't too much for you, he starts giving it to you harder, snapping his hips into you over and over.

Last night was overwhelming in its own way, but this–this is devastating. You thought last night was the most pleasure you could ever feel, but you had no idea that this could wreck you so completely. 

You're crying out with every thrust, each punishing snap of his hips punching little pathetic noises past your lips as you take what he needs to give you. 

"Shhh," he reminds you. "Gotta stay quiet, honey."

You drop to your elbows, burying your face in the pillows to try and muffle the involuntary sounds, but you can tell it isn't enough. 

"M-Marcus," you whimper frantically. "I can't."

"Do you want to stop?" he asks (making you shake your head rapidly), "Or do you want me to help you be quiet?"

You nod frantically, although you have no idea what he means. You'd do anything to keep feeling his cock like this. 

Marcus’s hand wraps tightly around your mouth, quieting your cries and forcing you to breathe through your nose. Something about the action makes your pussy clench violently, and Marcus makes a quiet groan of pleasure above you. 

He fucks you harder and faster, one hand sliding underneath you to rub tight circles over your clit. 

"Cum for me," he rasps brokenly above you. “Fuck, please–” 

The soft plea is enough to end you. You wail into Marcus’s hand as you come undone, and he tightens his grip, muffling the sound. 

It doesn’t take long for him to follow–just a couple more minutes of brutal thrusts that have you whimpering into his hand, oversensitive from your orgasm. The minute he stills, his cock slips from you as he immediately collapses on the bed and pulls you into his arms. You’re both still breathing heavily, but he smooths the hair back from your forehead as he looks you over.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “That was a lot, I’m sorry.”

“‘Re you kidding?” you slur. “That was… amazing.”

Marcus laughs and pulls you close again. “I’m glad,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his words. 

“Can I stay here for a little longer?” you ask. “Just a little.”

Marcus pulls back again and looks down at you with an amused smile. “It’s cute that you think I’m done with you, honey.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re not?”

“Mm-mm. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the way you look when you come undone,” he murmurs, tracing the tip of his index finger down the side of your cheek. “You didn’t think I’d be satisfied with just once tonight, did you?”

You giggle. “I guess not.”

He fixes you with a fiery look. “Do you trust me?” he asks quietly. 

“...Yeah?”

He raises one eyebrow. 

“Yes,” you answer, with more conviction this time. “Yes, I trust you.”

Marcus kisses you tenderly before sitting back on his heels beside you. His fingertips trail down your chest, over the peaks of your nipples, and down your stomach, as though he can’t get enough of the feel of your skin. One hand travels further down, stroking the soft patch of hair on your pubic bone before he slips one finger gently inside you. 

You cringe slightly at the wet squelch of your combined release, but Marcus shushes you gently. “Love how wet you get,” he teases affectionately. “And I like knowing I’m there inside of you.”

You clench involuntarily at his words, your lips parting as you exhale shakily. 

He chuckles. “You like that? You like knowing that I get off on the idea of you carrying a little piece of me with you?” he asks, as he starts to slowly fuck you with one finger.

“What if I told you that I was thinking about it during that meeting this morning?” he continues. “I kept wondering if there was still a little in there from last night, leaking into your underwear as I talked.”

“Shit,” you mumble. “Marcus.”

“Wanna fill you up again tonight,” he remarks casually. “So it’s still there when you’re walking around tomorrow.” He groans softly. “Fuck–Can I–Can I give you my number? I–I want you to text me. Tell me you can still feel me.”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Yes.”

“Good.” He adds a second finger and presses the heel of his hand against your clit, working you up to another orgasm exactly how he now knows gets you off quickly. When you start to clench around him, though, he doesn’t stop. He starts to rub quickly back and forth on that little spot inside of you until something else starts to build. 

“M-Marcus,” you murmur. “W-Wait, I–something is–”

“Shhh.” He keeps going, rubbing harder and faster until he suddenly rips his fingers from you as you gush around them, soaking his hand and the bed.

“Oh! Shit,” you cry out, panicking. “What the f–”

“Fuck, yes,” Marcus groans, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Oh, fuck, do that again.”

When he notices your expression of utter shock, though, he pauses, a slow smile of understanding spreading across his face. 

“Honey,” he says soothingly. “Was that the first time?”

You stare up at him, mouth hanging open. “I… I kind of always thought that was a myth,” you admit, ducking your head in embarrassment. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes softly. “No, it’s definitely not.”

He lays down beside you again, gently tucking a wisp of stray hair behind one ear. “That was so good,” he praises softly. “So good to me.”

You smile shakily, but something is starting to nag at you.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asks, noticing your hesitant expression. 

“I just… feel really inexperienced,” you admit quietly. “You know all this stuff, and I–it must be tedious, having someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, or–”

“No,” Marcus interrupts, his voice full of sincerity. “It’s not tedious at all. On the contrary,” he says with a little laugh, “the fact that I get to show you… that I’m the only one who can get you to do something you didn’t even know you could do–Well, shit,” he says with a crooked grin. He reaches down and palms his cock, which is hard and weeping again. “Look at what it does to me, huh?”

“Does that mean you’ll fuck me again?” you ask eagerly.

Marcus chuckles at your enthusiasm. “I did say I was going to fill you up one more time, didn’t I?”

When you wake up (in your bed, next to Emma, after sneaking back into your own room after Marcus was finally finished with you in the wee hours of the morning), your travel companion is decidedly not ready to go. 

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a train,” she grumbles. “And my stomach is still in fucking knots.”

“We can just stay around the house,” you offer.

“I don’t want you to lay around being bored just because of me,” she protests, flopping down on the couch with a groan.

“Not feeling any better?” Marcus asks, coming into the living room. 

“No,” Emma pouts. “I’m gonna stay here and rest.”

“What are you going to do?” he asks, looking over at you.

You shrug. “I don’t really know. Stay here too, probably.”

“How about this,” Marcus says carefully. “I’m supposed to be going to the National Gallery of Art today to give a little talk about forgery detection. If you wanted to come, we could… walk around the museum a bit, afterward?”

You try to keep your face neutral at the prospect of spending a day with Marcus. Alone. 

“Sure,” you say, hoping it sounds nonchalant. “Could be fun.” 

“Great,” he says lightly. “It’s a d–it’s a plan.”

It’s a date.

You’re giddy as you wave goodbye to Emma–who’s watching daytime TV and holding a bottle of Gatorade–and follow Marcus out of the door. 

As soon as the door shuts, he rounds on you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you soundly. “So glad you said yes,” he says breathlessly. 

“Why wouldn’t I say yes to that?” you tease. “Spending the day with you.”

“I don’t know,” Marcus murmurs playfully, capturing your lips again. “Good question.”

“Is this a date?” you ask coyly.

He pauses, lips parting in surprise. “Do you want it to be?”

Taking a big leap of faith, you nod. 

Marcus’s expression softens, and he threads your fingers together. “Then it’s a date.”

After his talk–which you listen to with eager eyes and rapt attention–the two of you stroll slowly through the galleries, talking. Marcus occasionally stops, taking in the artwork, and tells you little tidbits of information about each piece. He seems to be using the quiet setting as an excuse to keep you as close as possible; his arm wraps around your waist as he leans down and talks quietly in your ear, making goosebumps rise on the back of your neck whenever he speaks. He seems to know the effect on you–you had no idea art could be described so sensually. 

You lose the afternoon to each other; having lunch in a small cafe and then walking down the National Mall, hand in hand.

You pick up a sandwich for Emma, just in case she’s feeling better, on your way home. As you get closer and closer, every step starts to feel heavier and heavier. You never want this to end. 

Just before you arrive at his building, Marcus stops and spins you around, cupping your cheek and pulling you to him for a soft kiss. 

“Today was–” he starts, but breaks off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Listen, I don’t–I don’t know what your plans are after you leave tomorrow, but–”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

You’re both dancing around something big–both of you afraid to say what you really mean, and you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to take the leap. 

You had been hoping that Marcus would.

“It was nice,” you say lamely. 

“It was,” he agrees softly. 

Emma is looking a little less green when you arrive back home, and accepts the sandwich eagerly. 

“Sorry about today,” she says, her mouth full. “I don’t know what the hell that was.”

“It was the cal–”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

At first, when you hear Emma start to fall asleep beside you, you're paralyzed. You want to go to Marcus. This is your last night; if you want to say goodbye, you need to go to him this one last time.

You just don't know if you can face goodbye.

You don't know if you can face him. 

You aren't under any reservations about what this is. Marcus is a man, and you're nothing special. You're also nearly half his age. You gave him 'fuck me' eyes for three days, and he when he gave in to the temptation, you came willingly. But this was never meant to be a long-term arrangement. 

It was never meant to be in the first place.

You just wish your first time hadn't been with the total package. Marcus is sweet, kind, attentive, and can apparently make you cum like it was a competitive sport. How are you supposed to go back home, back to being around boys your age, and expect them to measure up?

You debate staying in bed. It would be the easiest thing to do. You could begin tonight: stuffing your feelings down and burying them deep, never letting them see the light of day again. You were on spring break, and this was a fun romp. A fling. You could leave it there and never give Marcus the goodbye he probably deserves. 

On the other hand… 

What's the harm in delaying for one more night?

You slip into his room for the third time in three days, and carefully close the door behind you. Marcus is shirtless in bed, and he beckons you over with a crooked, affectionate smile. 

"Fancy seeing you here, beautiful," he says, drawing the covers back with a playful raise of his eyebrow. 

Despite your heavy mood, you can't help but grin back and enthusiastically hop into bed beside him. 

He takes advantage immediately, grabbing you and turning you, and pulling you back against his chest with a playful growl. You're caged tightly in his arms, and there's nowhere you'd rather be.  

"This is nice," you hum contentedly. 

"Oh yeah? This all you want? Just a little cuddle?" Marcus teases, nipping gently at your shoulder. 

"What if it was?" You wiggle your hips playfully against his hardening cock.

"If that was all you wanted? Then I'd think really hard about dead puppies and my childhood neighbor Mrs. Fitzwilliam in order to calm myself down a little," he answers. 

"Mrs. Fitzwilliam?" you laugh. "Why?"

"When I was a little boy, I was convinced she was a witch. I couldn't so much as talk to her for years."

"Stop it, no you did not."

"I wouldn't joke about that," he laughs. "I was really scared of her!"

"Do me a favor and don't think about her," you tease. "I like how it feels against me."

"Would feel better somewhere else," Marcus says darkly. 

"Have somewhere in mind, do you?"

"I've had it on my mind all day," he says softly. 

"Show me," you murmur. "Show me what's been on your mind all day."

"Wanna know what I was picturing while I was giving that little forgery talk?" Marcus asks.

"Obviously."

"Then sit up, pretty girl."

He loosens his hold on you and you sit up, unable to keep the grin off your face. He sits up too, gently taking hold of the hem of your shirt and drawing it up over your head. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your shorts. 

"Help me out with these," he commands quietly. 

You shimmy them down your hips and kick them off, still kneeling before him, now completely bare. Marcus sits back on the headboard and pats his thigh suggestively, giving you a wicked smile. 

"C'mere."

You giggle and bite your lip nervously as you crawl forward and straddle him.

"Wanna see you just like this," he murmurs. 

"I–I've never–"

"I know," he interrupts with a wry smile. "I've got you. Just wanna see you like this," he confesses, palming your jaw and rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as you feel the tip of him breach you as you sink slowly down. 

"Eyes on me, honey." 

With a shaky breath, you open them again, holding Marcus's intense gaze as you impale yourself on his cock. Your lips part, eyebrows pinching together at the stretch of him–you don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling of being broken open for the first time. 

"That's it," he whispers. "Just like that." 

You slowly rock your hips, rising up and sinking back down again. You feel so full like this; your lips part and a breathy gasp escapes you as you feel the drag of Marcus’s cock inside of you. 

This is the first time you've chased your own pleasure with him like this; Marcus's eyes rake over your form greedily and as you ride him, you start to feel overly conscious of his scrutiny.

"Do I look okay?" you ask shyly.

Marcus makes a disbelieving noise and surges up, his hands starting to guide the movement of your hips as he kisses you messing, trailing from your mouth to your neck as he flexes up into you.

"Are you kidding?" he asks softly. "You're ethereal. A fucking goddess in my bed. And if you're thinking about that, I'm not fucking you right."

"That's a lie," you say with a lazy smile. "You're very thorough."

"Oh yeah? You like how I fuck you?"

"Mmmhmm," you hum. "Liked what you were doing last night."

Marcus chuckles deep in his throat. "Is that so? Cum for me like this, honey, and I'll put you on your knees again."

When his thumb presses into your clit, rubbing in small circles, it doesn't take you long to start to feel the pleasure growing in your core. You start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, no longer caring if your body is jiggling too much or that your face might look silly contorted with pleasure; all you can think about is chasing that feeling that’s building inside of you. Marcus helps you along, thrusting up into you, and you swear he must get deep enough to feel the very end of you. 

He whispers little praises and encouragements in your ear in that deep, raspy way his voice gets when he’s drunk on pleasure. You can recognize all his little foibles, now–the way he wiggles his wrist back and forth when something’s on his mind, the way he talks with his hands when he’s passionate about a subject, and the way he sounds when he comes undone.

You’re going to carry all of those things with you, now–the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way he raises one eyebrow when he’s being playful, and the way he sometimes mouths along to the words of his favorite old movies.

Is it possible to miss someone so completely after just one week?

You’re so deep in your emotions when you cum, you barely even realize that you’re about to until you’re clenching hard around him, grinding down on his cock as he works you through it, guiding your hips with his fingers pressing hard into your skin.

You’re still in a daze as Marcus flips you over, depositing you on your back and then turning you over onto your stomach on the bed. Rather than pull you up to your knees like the night before, he straddles you like this and sinks back into you, draping himself over your back as he starts to really fuck you.

Oh. This might be your favorite position yet–it’s the same angle as it was last night with the added bonus of getting to feel the weight of this man pressing down on you. His chest is against your back, his ragged breaths in your ear. His elbows cage your face and he entangles your fingers together over your head. It’s a sensory overload in nearly every way, and you’re drowning in the feel of him.

It’s so good that you feel your core start to tighten again.

“So soon?” Marcus teases breathlessly in your ear. “Fuck, I can feel you shaking. How are you so fucking perfect, hmm? You always feel like you were made to take me.”

His words inexplicably cause a lump to build in your throat. Made to take him, but this couldn’t, by definition, last. The statement only makes you wish that your compatibility didn’t have to be so fucking temporary. 

You’re teetering on a precipice–on the verge of both an orgasm and inexplicable tears. When Marcus gently brushes the shell of your ear with his lips and murmurs one last, soft sentence, you finally succumb to both.

“You can let go, honey. I’ve got you.”

You convulse with a wet sob, pleasure and sorrow overtaking you simultaneously. Blessedly, with your face buried in the pillow, Marcus doesn’t notice yet; he starts fucking into you with abandon until he lets go with a deep groan in your ear. 

When he finally stills, and he starts peppering kisses across your shoulder blade, you can feel him stiffen when he realizes that, mortifyingly, there are tears on your cheeks.

“Shit,” Marcus breathes. He carefully slips out of you and turns you over underneath him, quickly brushing the tears at the corners of your eyes. He kisses them away, whispering softly to you.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks frantically. “Honey, look at me.”

“No!” you exclaim emphatically. “No, I–I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Talk to me,” he demands softly.

“I don’t–I don’t want to go home,” you whisper. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Oh, honey,” Marcus whispers. “Really?”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sure this is exactly what you’re looking for–for some girl to get attached to you after one whole week of knowing you…”

Marcus smiles and brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. “Attached to me?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you say. “You’re just really nice, and you’re gorgeous, and you’ve been so good to me–”

“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Please don’t cry.”

"Sorry," you say again.

"Hey," he says softly, still stroking your cheek. "You know something? You're wrong. You're not 'some girl.' You're sweet, and funny, and cute, and maybe having this girl right here be attached to me after one whole week of knowing me is exactly what I'm looking for."

"What are you suggesting?" you ask bluntly. 

“All I’m suggesting is that we stay in touch,” Marcus answers. “No pressure, no expectations. We talk, and we get to know each other better, and when you graduate, Miss Pre-Law,” he teases, lightly touching the tip of your nose, “if you still feel the same way, come back to me. Go to Law School at Georgetown. Get an internship at the FBI. And whatever it is that you do, I know of a place you can stay.”

"You'd really want that?" you ask, a slow smile starting to spread across your face.

"I'd be a fool not to grab onto this with both hands," he murmurs, stroking his hand down your side. "A damn fool."

"What about Emma?"

Marcus pauses, biting his lip. "She's a grown woman," he says carefully, "and I haven't had much of a place in her life growing up. I would hope that… once we see where this goes–if it goes anywhere–she'd understand."

You nod slowly. "Okay."

"I've rushed into things in the past," he says softly. "More than once. But I'm not in any rush right now. I want to take my time, get to know you, and if you're still looking at me the way you're looking at me right now in a year, I'll consider myself a lucky man."

Your smile is brilliant. "I'd like that."

"I'd like that, too. And that means tomorrow isn't goodbye, anymore." 

"No?"

"Nope," Marcus says with a grin. "Just 'see you later.'"

"Can I still get a goodbye kiss?" you ask.

He shakes his head playfully, but his lips descend to meet yours anyway. 

"Not a goodbye kiss," he teased.

"A 'see you later' kiss," you correct. 

"A 'you are so goddamn beautiful that I can't help to kiss you' kiss."

"You're making this too complicated."

"An 'I'll call it whatever I damn well please' kiss."

"An 'everything's gonna be alright' kiss?" you ask hopefully. 

Marcus smiles and kisses you long and deep. "Especially that."

– – – – – 

One year later…

“May I present: the graduating class of 2024.”

Along with Emma and the rest of the seniors in the auditorium, you throw your mortar-board hat into the air, shrieking happily as someone else’s crashes down on your head, instead. 

“Fucking finally!” Emma shouts beside you, and you grin widely. 

The last year has been a whirlwind for the both of you, and you know it. 

After reconnecting with her dad, Emma made an effort not to lose touch again. Eventually, he had opened up about his past and the circumstances surrounding his divorce, and at her urging, even began the process of making peace with her mom. They even had Christmas together, for the first time since Emma was two. 

And how do you know all this?

Well, Marcus hadn’t lost touch with you, either. 

True to his word, you both took your time and got to know each other from a distance. Talking to him was still as easy as breathing, and you’d spend entire nights at the beginning staying up far too late and talking well into the wee hours of the morning. 

It wasn’t hard to see that the something that was between you was still there and not going away any time soon. And the only thing you’ve found so far that rivals the strength of your friendship is the passion that you continue to have for each other in the bedroom.

Marcus would make trips when he could–some visits ostensibly to see Emma and other, more secret trysts where his only aim was to see you. (And see you he did; on most occasions, he’d barely let you out of his hotel room.)

Your beginning may have been a meteoric collision–two people forced into proximity that had no choice but to fall into each other–but the growth of your resulting love was slow and careful.

Eventually, you’d need to tell Emma, but it didn’t feel like the time was quite right, yet. Of course, when she visits you at Georgetown next year and you give her not your own address, but her father’s, the two of you will have to come clean. 

Right now, though, as you and Emma weave through the crowds of people looking for Marcus, you’re content to keep things the way they are. Everything is slowly falling into place, and that piece of the puzzle will fit into the rest when it’s ready.

“There she is!”

Emma beams as she hears Marcus call out, waving his hand frantically to catch your attention among the sea of people. 

She lets herself be crushed into a hug, her father grinning proudly and murmuring something unintelligible into her ear. After a few minutes, he releases her and turns to you.

“Congratulations,” he says–perfunctorily, but warmly. 

“Thank you.”

After a couple of beats, Emma rolls her eyes.

“Would you just kiss her already? Honestly, it’s more weird that you’re not.”

Two sets of eyes swivel to her in alarm.

“You… you knew?” you exclaim.

Emma gives you a disbelieving look. “Okay, the fact that you two both think you were being subtle means you might actually be meant for each other. Wow.”

“How?” you choke out.

“Are you serious? You two had bizarre energy when you met, and ever since, I see you smiling at your phone all the time,” Emma says to you. “And after that week, whenever he’s come to visit, you both act weird around each other.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

“Plus, you had a hickey on your neck one morning,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Real subtle.”

Oops. You shoot Marcus a look, and notice that he’s as red as a tomato. 

“Em,” he starts, looking pained.

“It’s fine,” she interrupts. “Look, it’s not like we had the closest of relationships when I was a kid. I'm getting to know you as an adult, and it just feels different than it would be if you had raised me. I’m not going to say it doesn’t make me feel fucking weird, and I don’t ever wanna know details about your sex life and I am not calling you ‘mom,’ but I guess I’ll just say… I get it. You two are oddly similar, and I wouldn’t want to stand in between you and happiness. Because I… you know. I love you.”

“Emma,” Marcus says, his smile turning watery for a moment. 

“Don’t… make a big deal out of it,” she grumbles.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs, and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I love you too, Emmie.”

He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes sparkling, and you feel your insides start to heat up just from his gaze alone.

Those words are still new, between you–the first time was whispered softly in his ear in the darkness after spending all night wrapped around each other just a couple of months ago. Marcus whispered them back immediately after; he was achingly patient and careful to take his time with you, even though you’d felt that emotion emanating from each of you for months prior.

It was just–you didn’t want to rush things. Love was new to you. Everything was. And if Marcus was going to be your first experience with all of it, you had a feeling that you were going to want to savor it.

You know he feels the same.

Stepping forward, Marcus gently tips your chin up to meet him in a gentle kiss. The shape of his lips are so familiar now, you could probably draw them in your sleep. You know the way they move against yours. You know how it feels when he smiles against your mouth–which he does often, and right now.

“Congratulations,” he murmurs again. This time, the word is dark and full of underlying emotion–love, affection, friendship, pride–and you grin back as you kiss him once more.

“What now?” you ask with a little laugh.

“I have a few ideas,” he husks in your ear, inaudible to anyone else, before pulling back. “But right now?” he shrugs. “Anything you want. Everything.”

“What if I said that all I wanted was you?”

Marcus’s eyes soften. “Well, honey,” he says gently, “you’re in luck, because that’s the one thing I can give you.”

The end.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal

[coonhoundcat]

What are the bounds of the Heroes and Villains Community?

Honestly, I find myself asking the question more and more-- and I haven't a clue what the answer is. What are the requirements? Is it just that there's a character titled 'Hero' and another titled 'Villain'?

What is this genre? IS it a distinct genre? If it's a sci-fi space adventure story that just so happens to have a Hero and a Villain, does it count? What if Hero and Villain are just opposing politicians in a decaying Rat society? What if they're god-like entities making wagers on their followers and subjects? Does that count? When the context is no longer just trappings for a hero-villain relationship, but actually starts to influence how they react to each other and springs a greater plot, does it stop being a hero-villain story? Is hero x villain an aesthetic?

Realistically, I know that there's likely no hard line here-- and that I would do well to only mark things that are more-or-less indisputably suited to the tag; but then I'm faced with the reality that it is the only community I'm genuinely a part of. If my writing isn't tailored to the Heroes and Villains tag, who will read it? Who will care?

I fully admit that this is a terrible way to think about this. People should write what they want to read, the rest of humanity be damned. I shouldn't care.

And yet.

I am a human-shaped creature, with every insecurity and social need that comes with it. I care so deeply. I bloody well hate it.

I want so badly for people to see what I've made, to find something meaningful in it-- and I'm terrified that it's just going to be there, in the ether, doing nothing. Pleasing no one. Invisible. Forgotten.

I shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone puts a bit of themselves into their writing, I think. And no one really wants to be forgotten. Not entirely.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is: I need to find more small-ish communities that align with the various types of rubbish I enjoy producing. Not that I have any intention of leaving the Heroes and Villains tag-- I just have more, unrelated things I'd like to put out there, and I'm afraid of being utterly ignored.

#hero x villain community #heroes and villains #villain x hero #hero x villain #hero and villain #villains and heroes

[my-writings-and-musings]

What if the reader ACTUALLY ended up getting pregnant by soundwave? 👀 How would the cassettes react to the fact that they're going to have a baby sibling soon? Feel free to write this 〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

Wwwwwwweeeeeeeeellllllllllllllllllllllll I might just have to give this a try anon, I definitely haven't been thinking about it since that last ask... (Or applying the same thought to other bots that you can totally ask me about at any time if any of you are so inclined)

I hope you all enjoy, and if you like my writing style you can always commission me!

All three of the minis still had their own unique expression of frozen shock when Frenzy finally went silent, leaving you to sit awkwardly across from them at the breakfast table. Soundwave knelt at your side, his demeanour tense but supportive as the quiet continued for several agonizing moments. It was Laserbeak that found his voice first, shaking his helm as if he was trying to process the information but simply couldn't. "How's that even possible?!"

"You're WHHHAAAAAATTTT?!"

Even without utilizing her sonic scream, Frenzy had the walls shaking for the entirety of her outburst, though such a reaction was more or less what you'd expected given the news you and Soundwave had just dropped.

"From the look of it, I'm due in seven months." you answered simply, unwilling to admit that was a guess at best. Based on your symptom you could reasonably estimate you were about two months in, but there was no way to know if this was going to proceed like a normal pregnancy, and it wasn't like you could swing by a doctor's office for answers. Soundwave settled his claws on your shoulder in a gesture of support.

"Known phenomenon. Scattered historical records." Soundwave answered for you, his explanation only somewhat shorter now than what he'd given you when everything had come to light. He'd also been able to translate and show you some of the texts describing the process, which included an explanation as to how Cybertronian gametes could "read" the genetic information of other species and interpret it to match their own anatomy, allowing for reproduction between vastly different beings. The little one within you now would be fully Cybertronian, but still related to you thanks to the wonders of alien biology. You wondered briefly what features of your own might be recognizable; your smile, the shape of your eyes, the proportions of your limbs...

"Well... When's the little one gonna get here?" Laserbeak continued as the others remained silent. Ravage was tense in his chair, optics narrow and audials pinned back in deep thought whilst Frenzy still found herself incapable of getting her jaw off the floor.

Giving the minis a date seemed to make the news that much more real, and the three exchanged looks, silently discussing their feelings on the matter with expressions alone. Too many emotions passed between them for you to identify even a fraction, but you caught a considerable amount of uncertainty from all three, which we to be expected. Frenzy finally spoke for the group, crossing her arms as if she was seated at a negotiating table as she tilted her helm for a pointed question. "Are we gonna have to share a room with them? It's already pretty crowded with the three of us."

"Search for more spacious dwelling; initiated." Soundwave replied quickly. The question was one the two of you had asked yourselves, and though searching presented its own dangers, you had concluded it would be far from ideal to have a growing family in this crowded bunker. In a mere month your mate had crossed hundreds of miles in his search, and the list of new potential homes grew each time he returned. Said information was relayed to the minis in a succinct summation of his activities. "Several possible locations located. Scouting to continue."

Hearing of a new home caught the interest of all three, an understandable reaction considering their limited space at present, and also seemed to turn some of their surprise to anticipation.

"Well, if we can get somewhere with a little more elbow room... I'm on board." Frenzy said as she returned to her more casual sitting posture, looking more open to the idea now that she had some time to process and could imagine the fun that might come if it. Seeing a smile pull on her lips gave you a great deal of comfort, and you felt your shoulder relax in Soundwave's grasp. The music loving femme tapped her chin as she pondered the possibilities. "Something beachside would be pretty tight."

Matching her energy, Laserbeak added his own two cents, equally excited at the prospect of moving from their cramped abode. "I could go for something up in the mountains, nice to have open air under the wings."

You prepared to reply with a list of the places Soundwave had scouted, but Frenzy scoffed at Laserbeak's suggestion before you could speak, returning to her old self with impressive speed. "Boring! How are we gonna have fun in the middle of the woods?"

"If the bitlet ends up flying, where else am I gonna show them the ropes?" he replied, holding up his wings like hands in his exasperation.

The comment took you pleasantly by surprise. Moments ago they'd been so shocked you couldn't really tell if they were at all on board with the new family member, but Laserbeak was already planning for including the little one, and Frenzy made it clear she was doing the same with her retort.

"How can I take them to rock concerts if there aren't any?" she asked in equal exasperation, making you smile at how she was also planning for their future sibling. You were confident now their initial reaction had been purely one of shock, and now that it had faded they were all proving more than amenable to the idea of a little brother or sister.

"They can fly there!" Laserbeak replied as the silly argument intensified, the two minis squabbling over the best places to live for the sake of their interests as well as their future sibling. Ravage remained removed from the entire discussion, but you found his posture far more relaxed, and when his gaze met your own for a second time he was far from displeased. The Felicon looked to you for a moment of consideration before giving a nod, his way of indicating that he too was fine with this most unexpected turn of events. You nodded back in appreciation. This little one may have been unplanned, but they would be anything but unloved.

"Arguments unhelpful." Soundwave sighed as the petty squabble grew lightly physical, juvenile slaps being traded by Frenzy and Laserbeak as they debated whose idea for a new location was "obviously" superior to the others. You chuckled lightly and gave his servo a pat, certain this chaos would hardly compare to what your little family would be dealing with in just a few short months.

#transformers #maccadam #earthspark #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #transformers: earthspark #tfe #tfes #soundwave x reader #human reader #self insert #transformers x reader #x reader #sparklings #human/bot babies #i like writing baby robots #can you all tell? #frenzy #ravage #laserbeak

[daliain]

ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ༆ೄྀ

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

Alastor x reader

Genre: fluff, romantic

Pronounce: They/them but 'You' is mostly used for this one shot

Love interest: Alastor

F/f means favorite food

And F/d means favorite drink

Requested by : none

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Narrator Pov

You've been in this hotel for a while now.. I mean, like 7 years? Who knows. You can't really tell the date sometimes. Especially after the extermination ends just now and Alastor came back just a few week ago. So, you might as well get use to it. You're one of the staff members in Hazbin hotel. Helping around Charlie. Though you are not so sure if redeeming a sinner is possible.. But, it wouldn't hurt to see if it works. Maybe there's hope.

Nevermind that, you haven't seen Alastor for a long time so, it's either bad or a good thing. Nevertheless you didn't thought about it much but it's good his back but not at the same time. But you do admit.. You kinda miss him? Which is strange, missing a radio demon is not what you expect. But who knows.

"Hello Alastor, welcome back" You said as you greet him while you are carrying a pile of poster for the Hazbin hotel. Alastor in the other hand, of course has his usual smile with his yellow toothy grin. "Y/n! Dear! Salutation darling. What you've been up to lately?" Alastor's radio like voice spoke to you. "And it's seem you have a lot in your hands right now!" "Yes yes I know.. I'm just gonna help Charlie put this around.. Hoping.. Sinners might come to this hotel" You muttered softly as you walk down the halls as Alastor follow behind.

"How kind of you my dear, say how about when you are done, would you care to take a stroll with me through around town?" Alastor says as he looked at you for a moment. You smile a little but soon sighed softly. "I would love to Alastor really but uhh.. I got a lot of handful of things I need to do, mayb- Woah!" As you are about to complete you sentence a few of those.. Cartoonict black and white goons grabbed the posters and go outside to set all the posters up around town. Alastor look at You, still giving you a toothy grin and spoke. "You were saying?~" He teases slightly. You blink twice and shrugged."well.. Nevermind.. I guess I wouldn't mind taking a stroll with you?"

"Wonderful! Let's go then shall we?" He offered his arm to You for you to take it. You put your arm around his to link and soon both left the hotel.. You wonder why Alastor seems more.. Content? Well whatever it is at least his in a good mood.

They take their little stroll around the town. You can still see the other demons causing havoc and fights here and there.. And good Lord you and Alastor have to avoid to see the other demons having sex in the alleyway or in public.. It was a awkward silence between you both, soon You cleared your throat and spoke. "So uhhh.. Alastor.. Where are we going?" You asked Alastor. Alastor looked at you and spoke. "Why, I almost forgot! We're going to this lovely cafe! Rosie told me it is a good place to spend some peaceful time with yourself or with someone, so I thought I could bring you with me to try!" "Oh that's, lovely Alastor" You say with an awkward smile as they soon arrived the cafe. The place is nice actually.. Somewhat warm and welcoming.. This seems to where the cannibals eat. "Oh, this is the place?.. You know Alastor I don't eat uhhm.. You know. " "don't worry my dear! There's other nourishment food as well that doesn't consist eating anything what We eat" He shows his toothy grin slightly.. A bit sinister.. But soon turn back into a normal smile. "Now then, shall we?" He gestures as you both enter inside.

The inside is nice and cozy. Cannibals and other demons resistance eat peacefully yet happily. Talking to each other, a few laughters here and there. Having a blast. You looked around in awe slightly. "it's.. Actually nice in here" You muttered softly as you both walk towards to the tables.. Soon you are greeted by a young man who seems to be in his 20s. Velvet hair and gold eyes, he seems to be a moth of sorts,His hair is fluffy yet slightly loose. He greeted you both calmly and spoke. "Greetings, what can I get for both of you today?." Alastor, as usual still has his smile and spoke. "I would like to have one of those fresh blood tea of yours and Y/n? What you you like my dear?" Alastor turn to you as you thought for a moment as you look through the menu. "I guess a f/f and f/d would be good". The waiter nodded and soon went off to the kitchen to inform the ones in the kitchen. You awkwardly fiddle with her fingers on the table as Alastor hummed softly while tapping his fingers on the table.. Soon spoke.

"So, Y/n, how have been while I was gone?" You soon looked at him and spoke. "Well.. Uhmm.. Nothing much, helping around the hotel, and talk to Husker. Just nothing out of the ordinary" you answered. Alastor hummed as he think what will he say.. Well.. This is awkward.. Very awkward.. Soon their orders arrived and placed down on the table. "Here you go, I hope you two lovers have a wonderful time here. Farewell" Young man spoke as he leave.. Your fave blushed slightly in embarrassment and spoke.. We aren't lovers- nevermind..." You groan slightly as Alastor hummed in amusement, though he did find it endearing to see you in a bashful state but he won't say it outright to make it less awkward. It was silent but soon Alastor but soon spoke. "So, my dear where would you like to go next? Surely there's a certain place here in hell that you like to go?" You shrugged and shook her head. "Well.. I'm not so sure.. I never have one.. Besides.. I am always isolated in the hotel because I never wanna go out.. And.. I don't want to be bothered by and kinds of demons.." You muttered as Alastor sip his tea. "Hmm.. Fair enough". Silence again.. You gulped but soon spoke. "So uhh.. Alastor. Maybe we could go to the garden? Well I heard there's a garden around here somewhere.." You muttered while you eat your food.. Alastor hummed and spoke. "Why that's not a bad idea!" You smile slightly but soon see how different Alastor has been acting..

Soon they paid the food but Alastor mostly paid it. He insisted as they exit the cafe and went to find the garden. Once they arrived, the place is beautiful.. Way to beautiful for it to be in hell.. You both walk down the blooming flowers as you both talk about different topics.. Had a few laughs and chuckles. You have gone quite comfortable around Alastor then awkward.. Alastor seems to.. Have good time spending time with Y/n..he seems fond of you.. Every time you both talk he listens through your ranting and yaps. As he okes about few things. It was a nice feeling.

"Can't you believe it? Gosh.. Man.. Sometimes I miss being alive before I'm here.." "I could've agree with you more" you both laugh.. You glance at Alastor and notice how's his lookin at you.. His eyes are more.. Gentle? He looks vulnerable too.. And his smile.. His smile is..

Genuine.

It almost like you see a new side of Alastor.. Instead of his usual self.. You could see the fondness of his eyes as you blush and look away...Soon time went by as you both started walking away from the garden. It was now a peaceful silence as Alastor spoke. "Well my Dear, I have a splendid time talking with you. I hope we do this again in the future." Alastor says as You nodded your head. "Yeah, let's uhh.. Go out sometime?" You looked at him as he smiles.. But more genuine which makes your heart beat. "That would be wonderful, my dear."

You both arrived to the hotel and entered. He lead you to your room and spoke. "Well, I hope you have good night sleep my dear." You nodded and smile. "Yeah You too Alastor.. Well.. We'll see each other again?" "We will, darling". He soon gently grabbed you hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on it.. Your face turned slightly red at this gesture as Alastor soon stood still as he spoke. " good night, darling. " "good night Alastor.. See you again.

And with that, He left and you closed the door.. You feel butterflies in your stomach.. Your face is completely red as those roses you saw in the garden.. You couldn't forget the smile of his.. It's not sinister, there's no mockery. Just.. A genuine smile.. You smiles softly as you went to bed.. Hoping tomorrow.. You'll get to spend time with him.

⏤͟͟͞͞♥︎ The End⏤͟͟͞͞♥︎

Hi, hello. I'm back. Sorry I have not been active. And this is the longest One shot I have ever done. So now I will be finishing.. Other request. And hope it doesn't glitch.

But now, I'm going back to do my performance task, goodbye!

And uhh.. I guess happy valentines day?..

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #x reader #welcome to the Hazbin hotel

[lurkingshan]

Just saw your tags on turtle’s post and would love to hear more of your thoughts on Cheum

Oh, boy. Okay, I guess we’re doing this. So, when I think about Cheum I am usually making this face.

And embodying Oprah what is the truth.gif, because I think she is incredibly underwritten to the point of incomprehensibility. I think the term I used with @so-much-yet-to-learn to describe the writing for Cheum was "a void of characterization.”

By which I mean, I don't understand anything about her. I don't know what she wants or what she cares about. I don't know anything about her relationship with April. I don't know why she is friends with these guys or which she has real bonds with, if any. I don't know why she does things or whether I am supposed to see her as a neutral observer, a voice of reason, or another chaotic shit stirrer. I've seen some confusing messages from the creators about her that don't track with what I'm seeing on screen, so I find it hard to parse their intent versus the impact of what she is actually doing in the story.

But what I can tell you is that based on what I've seen, I don't like or respect her, and I certainly don't see her as in any way better or above the other characters in this story. Let me sum up what we've seen of Cheum over the course of the story:

She is mean to her friends, making lots of catty, passive aggressive remarks that dig at their sore points and taking sides against each of them on a whim

She pushes Mew to date Top and then to forgive him for cheating, to the point of ignoring Mew's stated wishes to conspire to help Top get back into his space

She somehow makes Ray nearly getting arrested all about her and in general gets overly involved in the boys' drama before turning around and berating them for causing her stress

She is judgmental and shaming about gay sex, making Boston out to be a predator for having a lot of sex and leveling a homophobic attack against him by claiming he took advantage of her "straight" brother

She lacks grace and humility and doesn't admit it or apologize when she is wrong, sticking to her bias against all evidence

And we have seen precious little in terms of positive attributes to balance this. We haven't seen her show up for any of the boys as a true or loyal friend. She seems reasonably good at school and conscientious about the hostel project, but we don’t get much there either. She's not even fun! Her function in the story is to be an antagonist to each of the boys in turn, even as the narrative seems to sometimes be suggesting that she is outside the drama.

It all reads very confused to me, and I can't say with any certainty how much of it is intentional and how much is just failures of writing and editing. She's not getting enough screen time for a confident read on who she is, and what she does get feels half-baked. At this point, I think it's safe to say Cheum is just a poorly executed character who has little purpose besides being the token lesbian in the friend group.

#only friends the series #only friends cheum #thai bl #shan answers

[aeruia]

karasu tabito dating hcs?

⌕. BLUE LOCK

↻. KARASU TABITO DATING HCS !

hcs on what would i think if he started dating you :3

pairing/s : karasu tabito x reader

warning/s: nothing, ooc i guess 😓

word count: 262

note: i still haven't finished bllk manga yet and I'm a forgetful person so i read a few chapters (to get to know the character more 😭) and so i can do this req 🥹 this took too long since i’ve busy :< also my first time doing a hcs :0

before you both are dating, i feel like you and karasu just don't know each other or just ignore each other's existence.

you only noticed him when you saw isagi with him, shocked that isagi knew karasu and after that you greeted each other and that's where you both started talking

he did the first move but when the conversation ended then he wants to talk to you more he will probably try those misclicking emojis and then tries to talk with you again 😭

he would probably never admit that he has a crush on you on anybody and just keep it to himself but if you confessed your feelings first he would be all “ i know that from the start “ just to hide how flustered he is 💀

okay so when you both started dating he would act all cool in front of his friends, flexing you off everything he can do when inside he's actually wanna be all shy and hide behind you.

can talk about you all day if anyone asks him. he looks like he doesn't care or whatever but when someone asks just a small detail about you that's the only thing he'll talk about.

idk if this just me but i think if you're talking shit about someone he would make side comments about that person even if he doesn't know a thing about them 💀

overall, if you and karasu started dating it would be fun and also a lot of dates would be planned. ( all of you guys budget are wasted in dates but it's fun )

04.08.24 // ©aeruia

#𖦹.aeruwrites #karasu tabito #karasu tabito x reader #karasu x reader #bllk karasu #𖦹.bllk #blue lock fluff #blue lock hcs #bllk fluff #bllk headcanons

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Falling Part Five | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Jae tells Lana about the party but you get nervous, not knowing what his intentions with her might be... Pairing: Guardian Angel f!reader x Fallen Angel Jungkook Word Count: 1.5k (sorry I know it's short and horribly edited) a/n: Hey guys so I know I haven't updated this story in months and a few of you have been asking for it so I'm sorry about that. I know this is short but I wanted to put something out for you guys. I'm still stuck on figuring out what's going to happen at the party so that's why this is still a little short but hopefully I'll figure it out and post it soon! Thanks for waiting 💜 Start from the beginning

"Jimin I don't know what to do" I whine, dragging out the last word, "I've been able to avoid the headache of her going to any high school parties but of course when this tall, mysterious, intelligent guy and his friends come around she suddenly decides to go" I complain to him. 

"I mean to be honest I don't blame her. They seem like they're fun and Jae is charming and to be honest out of the lot he's definitely a lot more her speed. I feel like that's why they work so well together" he responds, trying to get me to calm down a bit which helps but I still don't know how I'm going to help her. 

"Maybe you're right. He does seem like a really nice guy and he hasn't done anything wrong. I think just the fact that this is the first guy she's actually shown interest in is making me a bit more nervous" I admit, plopping down on Lana's bed while she continues to study. 

They've known each other for a few weeks and he hasn't shown any signs of really wanting to lead her astray so that's promising. At this point though I don't really know what he does when he's around Jungkook which stresses me out at the very least knowing that Jae has messed up enough to trade his guardian angel for a fallen one. 

"Just keep a close watch and maybe then he'll show his true colors. Lana sounds like a smart girl and you'll be materializing in a few weeks right?" Jimin reminds me. "That's only if she doesn't start to stray and I'm afraid that if she goes to this party that it'll be the beginning of the end for us" I voice, letting all of my worries and doubts out. 

"Just keep praying that she'll stay strong and that she'll focus on staying on the straight and narrow" he say, making it sound easy. "I wish it was that simple" I mumble, turning my head to look at her while she picks up her phone to no doubt, text Jae back from the looks of it. 

"You've been with her since she was conceived and you know her better than anyone. Just put your faith in her and I'm sure you'll make it to materialization. You've done a great job watching over her so, don't doubt yourself" he encourages. 

"I'm sorry but I have to get going now. Let me know how everything turns out alright?" he say before ending the call. "Yes don't worry I will" I reassure him and say our goodbye right as Lana's phone starts to ring.

"Hey!" she greets excitedly, instantly letting me know who it is without even trying, accompanied by the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. 

"I miss you" he says and I instantly gag while she has the polar opposite reaction watching as her cheeks start to warm up. "I miss you too" she says softly. "I wanted to tell you the details of the party tomorrow and also I just wanted to hear your voice" he admits.  

'Could he be any cheesier?' of course Lana is eating it up though. Chances are he's gonna be her first love so I guess I'll just have to get used to this lovey dovey behavior from them. I drown their conversation out, still listening in but only enough to sense if something bad will happen but it's pretty innocent at this point thank God. 

Thinking about all this love stuff is taking me back to when I was young and falling in love with Jungkook...

Eons ago...  

"Go talk to her" Jimin says, elbowing Jungkook in the side and he groans at the contact still with his eyes fully trained on me. 

"She's probably already with someone else" he says, making excuses and tries to walk away but his friend grabs him by his shoulders and turns him around, making him face me again

"She doesn't have a bracelet yet" he points out, looking at my wrists, neither of them adorned with and sort of jewelry. "Just go talk to her" Jimin repeats, pushing on his shoulder and making him stumble, grabbing my attention. 

Jungkook and I make eye contact for a second and he smiles bashfully and I return it before going back to my conversation with a few other female angels. 

"Look he's coming over here!" one of them says once I've turned back towards the group giving the handsome angle my back making me straighten out my wings from their slouched position into a more graceful one. 

"He's probably looking at one of you guys" I say in a hushed tone, all of them having clocked the way he was looking at me, leaving me feeling insecure and pushing away the thoughts that someone as handsome as him would be interested in a lowly angel like myself. 

I hear a man clear his throat behind me and my body goes rigid praying it's not who I think it is having truly thought my friends had been teasing me. 

They all make eyes at me, wordlessly telling me to turn around but when I don't he chances speaking to me to get my attention. 

"Hello" is all he says and the smooth baritone of his voice is more heavenly than any other melody I'd ever heard. "Hi, um we've actually gotta go" one of older angels says and pushes the other girls to the side, herding them over somewhere else and my protests die in my throat once he tries his luck again. 

"I haven't seen you around here before" he says and at that I turn around to face him. My breath is taken away from seeing him up close, his features working in perfect harmony. 

"Um yeah I'm one of the new borns, I guess" I say, still unsure of how everything works around here, referring to my recently aged up status. "Oh, well it's very nice to meet you..." he trails off waiting for me to fill in the blank. "Y/n!" I say quickly, embarrassed to have left a longer gap between his question and my answer. 

"That's a beautiful name" he says, testing how my name sounds on his lips. I swear I never want anyone to address me by my name ever again unless it's by him or God. "Oh and you are?" I question, forgetting to return his interest. 

"Jungkook" he says, a name that I had never heard before but pray would be one I would utter again and again. "It's nice to meet you Jungkook" and I can see how his eyes light up and his wings slightly raise behind him, obviously happy to have heard his name from my lips as well. 

And from that moment onwards we started falling. Madly, deeply and hopelessly in love. That is, until he fell...

"JK said the party starts around 8 so I can pick you up around that time if you'd like" I hear Jae's voice say through the speaker. "Oh okay, yeah that works!" Lana says but she sounds a bit wary. 

"What's wrong?" Jae asks, clocking her change in demeanor. "It's just that my curfew is 10 so I wont be able to stay for very long and because you're the one JK's throwing the party for I wouldn't want you to have to deal with leaving early to take me home or anything" she says and he nods his head, thinking for a second. 

"What about this. Why don't we just go and hang out there for like an hour and then we'll leave and spend the rest of that time together on our own before your curfew" he suggests and she lights up at the idea. "I'd like that" she smiles shyly, a fluttery feeling in her stomach again, no doubt from the thought of spending true alone time with him for the first time.

"You sure you want to miss out on the party?" Lana questions, starting to feel guilty about it all. "The party is gonna go on all night so if I feel up to it I can always go back later on. You're the only one I really want to spend time with" he admits and again I can't help but roll my eyes. 

At least he's honest though but I really hope this night ends with a simple goodnight kiss. 'Please Jae for the love of God don't pressure Lana into losing her innocence' I offer as a silent plea. 

Lana is someone I've been entrusted to and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she stays safe. One boy is not gonna ruin this for her, she's stronger than this and I know that. I just need to keep reminding myself and stop doubting her. 

I've gotta put my faith in her just like Jimin said, and pray to God Jae's intentions are pure. Please Jungkook, don't encourage him to do this, I know it's your sole purpose to lead him astray, but please, not Lana...

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#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop #bts #kpop fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook and reader #jungkook and you #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #falling #fallen angel #guardian angel

[tsukimefuku]

It takes one to know one

You and Higuruma decided to make a promise to each other.

Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, Higuruma x f!reader, this is extreme fluff with the tiniest hint of angst, just for sauce.

Song: Head over feet - Alanis Morissette

WC: 800

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU", a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x f!reader x Higuruma fanfic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

You've already won me over in spite of me

And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

— Head over feet, Alanis Morissette

"I have noticed something." You said, as you had your forearms over the balcony, watching the calm street. You were both outside, enjoying the last few hours of sunlight, as the sun set behind a wall of buildings.

"What?" Higuruma asked, as he sat on the only chair there was in the balcony of your apartment. He closed the book he was reading, and put it aside.

"You got me to confess I had feelings for you," as you looked at him, he was watching the sky, with a sly smirk on his face, "but you never actually told me how you felt."

His smirk was gone, and he stared at you, confused. "Huh?"

"All you said was that you were happy you weren't barking up the wrong tree. Aside from the 'poetry' of it," you huffed an almost chuckle, "that doesn't say much, Hiromi."

He slid his fingers over his hair for a moment, and seemed to be pondering on something, as he looked at you. You proceeded.

"You actually took very calculated steps just to get my 'confession', and you revealed absolutely nothing about yourself."

He sighed, and lifted his hands, in admission of his defeat. "You caught me."

You chuckled and leaned against the opposing wall, to look at him. "Why did you do that?"

He was silent for a few seconds. "I guess I was worried you'd push me away if I told you how I felt."

You sighed, and scratched your head. "I mean, your fears were warranted. But we've been dating for a while, and you still haven't said how you feel. It's odd, that's all."

"I guess... I might still me afraid you will flee at any given moment."

"Hey, I know I'm avoidant, but come on, give me some credit!" You complained, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm in this with you."

"I know. But you still have feelings for him, don't you?" Higuruma inquired, leaned against the wall on his side of the balcony. It caught you by surprise.

"... I do." You admitted, starting to worry where this conversation was heading. Is he going to hold this over my head? You thought about him wanting to ask for some time, or breaking up, and oh come on not now, just when I began to feel happy aga-

"It's okay" he said, noticing your entire body had become stiff, and your brows knit together in a pained frown. "What I mean to say is that you still have feelings for someone that you actively decided not to pursue, and hasn't told me why. I'm not asking you to, but from that I can deduct that you had some kind of fallout, and are still feeling hurt, or vulnerable."

He read you like an open book. Your softening gaze confirmed his suspicion.

"About that, Hiromi, I..." The words began to tangle themselves in your throat, forming a ball, hard to spit out.

"I don't mean to pressure you about that in any way. Talk to me if and when you're ready. No one can promise to have feelings for one single person their entire lives, that's not how feelings work," Higuruma said, "but we can promise each other something else."

You stayed silent, and waited for him to speak.

"We can promise to always tell each other the truth, even if it hurts."

You sighed, gazing at him, and nodded. "I promise that I'll always tell you the truth, even if it hurts."

He smiled at you. "I promise you the same."

"Now, about your feelings...", you began, "why don't you tell me how you feel about me?"

"I believe you already have plenty on your plate. I don't want to..." He said, looking at his feet. He didn't mean to occupy you with his feelings, was what transpired.

"I want you to." You told him, as he looked up at you. "You just promised me. Always the truth."

He chuckled, caught on the web he had made himself. "Okay, then."

Higuruma got up and stepped towards you, pulling you by your waist to press against him. Your bodies, already familiar with one another, still quivered with the closeness and warmth. You put your hands behind his neck, feeling your face prickle red, as he gazed at you, eyes soft and loving.

"I am wholeheartedly in love with you." The sorcerer pressed his forehead against yours, and kept looking at you. Your heart throbbed and whirled content, and you could've wept of joy at this very moment. "And how are you currently feeling about me?"

You stuttered for a moment. "I am sincerely falling in love with you."

He chuckled, and nuzzled his beautiful hooked nose against yours. "Always a step back."

"What can I say?" You responded, while giggling. "You know me."

"I do. That's why we're here." He replied, kissing you. It felt like the sweetest golden honey had touched your tongue after you survived swallowing coals and bitterness for so long.

Please, don't ever leave.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma angst #higuruma x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff