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dragonrider9905 · 2 months

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Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him.

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart.

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing.

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same.

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands.

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could.

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for?

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you.

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.”

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering.

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage.

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.)

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them.

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok.

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could.

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little.

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.”

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved.

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out.

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better.

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh.

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit.

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that.

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door.

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you.

Kriff. He had to fix this.

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship.

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before.

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken.

He was lost.

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it.

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on.

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep.

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty.

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t.

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that.

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt.

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold.

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality.

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else.

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be.

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her.

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice.

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed.

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy.

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated.

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands.

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face.

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for.

It was ‘that’ look.

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone.

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long.

He squeezed your hands.

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore.

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself.

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering.

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free.

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him.

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before.

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead.

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him.

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.”

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker.

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back.

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?”

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.”

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?”

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you.

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go.

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two.

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun.

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had.

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed.

Your voice.

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training.

“Meshla, no!”

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you.

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you.

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter.

Your painful cry.

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart.

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.”

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…”

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body.

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly.

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?”

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.”

Hunter came in running.

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him.

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open.

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you.

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space.

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand.

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat.

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up.

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating.

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing.

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat.

Oh well, you could only push forward.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help.

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding.

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago?

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry.

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing.

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face.

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened.

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing?

You had an infection.

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly?

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you.

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you.

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water.

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle.

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter.

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least.

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt.

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late.

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response.

“Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope.

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him.

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand.

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area.

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?”

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him.

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled.

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.”

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help.

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words.

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.”

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon.

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level.

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets.

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern.

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way.

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out.

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most.

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could.

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you.

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow.

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes.

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain.

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard.

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there.

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier.

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace.

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened.

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler.

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest.

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

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absurdthirst · 2 months

Text

Better Late Than Never {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.9k

Warnings: Young musician Marcus, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, confessions, murders, attempted murder, angst, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, face fucking, mentions of pregnancy/family planning, hostage situation, threats of death, shoots, death

Comments: College is amazing, fun and the best boyfriend, Marcus Pike. You dream of a life together with him. Until you witness a horrible crime and are ripped from the life you know. Years later, a theft at your art gallery brings one Marcus Pike back into your life, revealing secrets and the fact that you never stopped loving him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“And now, Sex Riot!”

You start screaming as soon as they announce the band, always willing to cheer your college boyfriend and his band on, especially since this is the biggest gig they’ve ever played. “Yay baby! Whoooooo!” You clap and then put your fingers in your mouth to whistle from your spot at the bar as Marcus, Aaron, Dominic and Anthony immediately start playing the first song. Marcus, sweet and kind, looks like every girl's bad boy dream since you added a little bit of your eyeliner and gelled up his hair. Paired with his lucky t-shirt with the pot smoking ‘shroom, ripped jeans and boots, he looks sexy and you can’t wait to take him back to your apartment after it’s over.

Marcus finds you in the crowd and grins, winking at you as he plays a few chords to warm up his bass guitar and to check he’s in tune. He looks at the lead singer, Aaron, who nods and Marcus waits for the count in from Dom. He starts to play the song, the crowd starting to jam and he feels the thrill of the performance start to hit him. You are there, grinning up at him and he loves how much you support him for every gig.

You beam as they finish the first song. Clapping and cheering as Aaron greets the crowd. You know that when he gets down, he’s going to want a beer and a kiss and you will give them to him. You are completely in love with him and tonight you are going to tell him.

Marcus is sweating when the set ends, blood racing with exhilaration and he grins as he finds You applauding him, his favorite groupie, and he grins when you blow him a kiss. Fuck, he loves you. He’s gonna tell you soon. Never one to hide his emotions, he’s gonna need to blurt out his feelings soon. He takes his final bow with the band and he finds you backstage after you rush back there, his hands finding your waist and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

Kissing Marcus Pike is like breathing, natural and all consuming. You reach up and tangle your fingers into his sweaty, longish curls. Moaning into his mouth, you don’t even hesitate to press yourself against him eagerly. Only breaking away to breathe and then you nudge your nose against his and grin. “You were amazing, baby.” You gush, giggling when you kiss him again.

Marcus slides his hands down to squeeze your ass. “You enjoyed the show?” He asks and you nod, kissing his jaw as you lean against him. “Fuck, I was nervous to sing backup vocals on the new song. Was it good?” He asks, biting his lip when he pulls back to look at you.

“It was so good, baby. I love your voice.” You nod. “I love when you sing to me.” Grinning, you lift a brow. “Sing in the shower.” You tease, knowing he’s only singing in the shower when you aren’t in it with him. Normally if you come over to his place, you might catch it if he was still in the shower.

Marcus blushes, unaware that you’d heard him in the shower. It makes him wonder if you heard what else he does when you aren’t in the mood for him. “Fuck, you wanna get out of here? I’m not really in the mood for drinks. I want to go back to mine and shower…with you.” He adds, biting his lip.

“Your place?” You nod and kiss him one more time before you turn to grab your purse off the bar. You have already paid for your drink so you are ready to go. Even if the rest of the band stays and parties, it just means that you and Marcus will have the apartment to yourselves since he rooms with his band mates. “I think I want to have the bassist from my favorite band in the shower with me.” You send him a hot look. “So I can show him how big of a fan I am.”

Marcus nods, knowing the rest of the band will be okay with packing up the equipment since he’s stayed late every gig this year. He takes your hand, knowing the guys will bring his bass back, and he tells Aaron that he’s taking you home. “Have fun.” Aaron smirks, knowing exactly why you’re leaving so soon but Marcus doesn’t give him a second thought as he escorts you out to his car. Before he opens the door, he grabs you to push you against the passenger side, his lips finding yours under the street light.

In typical collegiate horny fashion, you have no problem making out with your boyfriend of nearly eight months right there. Feeling him start to harden against your hip only has you even more feral for him. One hand in the pocket of his ripped jeans, the other pushes between you so you can squeeze his thick cock, making him groan into your mouth. “Take me home, Marcus.” You demand. “I want to suck your cock and I can’t do that here.”

Marcus groans, hating to pull away from you but your promise to suck him off is never one he would deny you so he pecks your lips and pulls away from you. Shifting to open the door for you, helping you in before he jogs around the car to get into the driver’s seat. “God.” He breathes out as he starts to drive, trying to focus on the road and not the way you’re looking at him as he drives to his place.

You smirk and slide your hand down to his belt buckle. “Keep your eyes on the road, Pike.” You tease playfully as you unbuckle it. “I can’t wait until we get back to your place to feel you.” You’ve never given road head before, but for Marcus, you would do anything.

“Fuckkkk.” Marcus groans, fingers tightening on the steering wheel as you take his cock out of his pants. “Fuck baby. You’re too good to me.” He groans and you lean down to take him into your mouth. The car swerves slightly and he exhales to control himself and the car.

He’s slightly salty with sweat but like always, he tastes amazing. Musky and heady as you roll your tongue over the tip and pull back slightly before taking him deeper into your mouth. Groaning at his pulsing twitch of excitement. He loves when you suck his cock and you know that the added thrill of driving and being slightly exposed is doing something for you so it must be doing something for him. He had always kind of giggled when you watched movies where the guy gets road head, so you are happy you decided you couldn’t wait.

Marcus hisses when you suck him a little harder, taking him deeper and he swears he nearly cums but he reaches down to caress your cheek, “fuck baby. So good to me.” He coos, struggling to concentrate when you’re hollowing your cheeks.

You hum, happy he’s enjoying it. You know when you get back to his place, he will drag you in the shower and by the time you’re clean, he’ll be ready to go again. Your lips touch the fabric of his jeans and you swallow around his thick length.

Marcus can barely keep his eyes open but he forces himself, moaning again when you swallow around him and he reaches down to pat your cheek. “I’m gonna cum.” He warns you, “baby. I’m gonna cum.”

You smirk slightly, almost pulling off of him to remind him that’s the point of sucking his cock. Instead you double down on your effort, wanting him to cum down your throat. Moaning around him as the jerks and pulses of his cock tell you he’s about to bust.

Marcus pants, fucking glad he’s stopping at a traffic light. “Fuck fuck Fuck.” He hisses as he starts to cum, unable to control himself anymore as he starts to cum down your throat.

You swallow as much as you can, some of it spilling out the side of your mouth but you don’t stop swallowing. Not until every drop has been pumped into your mouth and that little sigh he always gives when he’s done comes out of his mouth. Pulling off of him lightly, you lick your lips and grin as you sit up. “How was that for your applause?”

“Fuck baby. I- just wait till we get back to mine.” He promises breathlessly. “I’m gonna - fuck. The things I’m gonna do to you.” He promises, pushing down on the pedal a little too hard when the light turns green. You tuck him away into his pants and he pulls you up to kiss your cheek, “God baby. You’re incredible.” He murmurs, focusing back on the road so he can rush back to his apartment.

You giggle quietly as Marcus races back to his apartment building, nearly squealing his tires in an effort to get there as quickly as possible. Once parked, you jump out of the car and run towards the building. “You have to catch me,” you tease over your shoulder.

Marcus chuckles, shaking his head and he scrambles to lock his car. He rushes after you, running up the stairs and he catches up to you when you are at his front door. “Gotcha.” He growls playfully, spinning you so he can push you against the door, kissing you with a smile, his hands reaching for your hands to lift your arms above your head, restraining your wrists, his hand slides back down to squeeze your tit, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You moan into him, enjoying the taste and feeling of him pressing against you. “Marcus.” You pant when he slides his tongue out enough to let you talk. “Shower and then I want to go to bed.” You beg, knowing that you want him inside you, touching you when you tell him how you feel.

He pulls away reluctantly, wanting to touch you but he knows he has to open his door. He grabs his keys, fumbling to open the door with your lips on his neck but he manages, swallowing harshly and nearly stumbling when it swings open. “Get naked. Now.” He demands, needing you, to see all of you.

You giggle at his commanding, desperate tone. Knowing that he is close to losing control and with it, leaving some of the sweetness behind. The best thing about Marcus is that he is so kind in and out of bed, but you like when he is a little rough with you. “Yes sir.” You tease, pouting seductively as you toss your purse down and reach to unzip your dress.

Marcus groans, his eyes hungrily eating you up and he bites his lip when you toss your bra aside, stepping out of your panties. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He murmurs, kicking off his boots and he pulls his shirt over his head, pushing his jeans down. His cock is still flaccid but his eyes are drinking you in as he pushes his boxers down. “Come on baby.” He murmurs, reaching for you and he takes your hand to escort you to the bathroom. He grabs his body wash from the shelf and turns on the water.

Marcus has a runners ‘or a swimmer’s body. Long, lean lines and limbs. Still powerful, and you take a moment to appreciate that as you watch him. You know you will have to gather your clothes later, but right now you press yourself up against him when you step into the shower together and wrap your arms around his neck. “I missed you today, baby.” He had a test and then one quick half shift at his job before his gig. His parents were funding his college, which was fantastic, but Marcus was responsible enough to still have a job.

“I missed you too.” Marcus murmurs, his hands caressing your back. “Always miss you.” He promises, leaning back so he can look into your eyes. “You enjoyed the show?” He asks, always anxious that he wasn’t good enough. He plays guitar mainly but when Aaron needed a bass player, he stepped up to learn it.

“You were great.” You promise him, sliding your fingers through his hair and tilting his head back to wet it under the spray so you can wash it for him. “Every note was perfect and you looked so sexy up there.” You coo. “All I could think of was how that is my man and I get to go home with him.”

Marcus smirks, eyes closed as you grab the shampoo and his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as you lather up his locks. “Only you. No one else.” He vows, knowing his band mates take home random women but you’re the one for him. He’s never been the Casanova type, always liking to be with one woman, to have a relationship and a deeper connection than a one night stand. You rinse his hair and he leans down to kiss you again, unable to keep away from you.

"Mmmmmm." You smile against his lips and open for him, moaning softly when his tongue slides against yours and he shuffles to press you back against the shower wall. You never seem to get enough of him and you don't think. you ever will. You love him. You have decided that you want to be with him forever and you pull back to smile at him softly. "Only you." You promise back.

Marcus kisses you softly, shifting to kneel down in the shower and he grabs your leg, kissing your knee before he lifts it onto his shoulder. His eyes on you as he leans forward to nudge your mound, his tongue coming out to slide through your folds. He loves how you taste and he wants you to cum on his tongue before he fucks you in his bed.

“Marcus!” You cry out, slapping your hand against the wall and your eyes roll back in your head. Marcus’s tongue is always eager, always seemingly perfect as it carves a path through your folds and flicks over your clit. He sucks it into his mouth and hums, which always makes you moan softly.

His hands slide up to squeeze your tits, the water flowing over his back and he loves the way you moan his name. He could listen to that for the rest of his life. His hands caress and squeeze and pinch while his tongue dips back down to push inside of you with a groan.

Tilting your head up, you pant his name again, your thigh shaking and barely supporting you without his help to keep you pinned against the wall. “Oh fuck, Marcus.” You chant quietly. “Baby, you’re so good. Fuck, you’re so good.”

Marcus desperately needs you to cum, his tongue diving deep as his nose presses against your clit. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass, tilting your hips so his tongue can push deeper inside of you.

“Oh shit!” Your body bucks and you cry out wordlessly when your orgasm hits you. Pleasure and heat washing over you in successive waves as he keeps pressing deeper. Tongue curling and prodding inside you and his nose is the perfect pressure against your clit.

He works you through it, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence and he groans, pulling back to look up at you. Hair slicked back and eyes dark. He shifts to stand up after lowering your leg and he leans in to kiss you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

When he pulls back, you giggle quietly. “So glad I have a boyfriend who loves to eat pussy.”

You hum, reaching for the body wash and his shower mitts. Lathering them up quickly, you start to wash his body, eager to get him into bed.

Marcus lets you wash him then he returns the favor, his hands everywhere as he washes you and he groans when your fingers wrap around his hard cock. “So impatient for me.” He jokes softly, rinsing you off. “You wanna come to my bed?” He asks, kissing along your neck.

“Fuck yes.” You pant, stroking his cock with the quick, harsh motion that he enjoys. “I need you inside me, baby. Right now.” You beg.

Marcus reaches behind you to turn off the water, he grabs the towel and wraps it around you, grabbing another one for himself to dry off and then he’s dragging you into his bedroom. He pushes you onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kneels between your thighs, “wanna cum inside of you.” He murmurs, wanting to fill you up. He usually pulls out to be safe despite your birth control but tonight he wants to feel your walls pulsing around him when he cums.

You moan softly, loving the idea. Nodding, you reach up to caress his chest. “I want that baby, I’m safe.” You promise him, also keeping track of your cycle as well as your birth control. “Fill me up, I want to feel it.” You coo, enjoying the low moan as he pushes his cock through your folds and starts to break into you as he rocks his hips forward to kiss you.

Marcus groans into your mouth as you stretch to take him. You’re so fucking perfect. So fucking wet and tight. He closes his eyes as he pushes until he’s inside of you fully. “Fuck, baby girl. I - I love how you feel around me.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he gives you a moment.

You close your eyes, a small smile on your face as your fingers tangle into his hair. “I love you.” You murmur softly, knowing that he will hear you since his ear is right next to your lips. It’s the right moment, the perfect moment to tell him how you feel. “I love you, Marcus.”

Marcus pulls back to look at you, eyes wide. “I love you too. Fuck, I love you so much baby.” He promises. His hips start to move as he works his cock in and out of you. “I love you. I love you.” He repeats over and over between kisses to your skin.

You moan quietly as the two of you take sex and turn it to love making. Soft and sweet as he rocks into you and whispers words of love and praise. It makes you feel cherished, you know that he’s not just saying that because you did. Not because he’s inside you. This man loves you and it makes happy tears fill your eyes as you hold him tight.

He moves slow, in no rush despite the frenzy earlier. He wants you to enjoy every second of this. His hand sliding up to squeeze your breast as he shifts his weight onto one elbow so he can touch you. There’s no more words, just feelings as he rocks into you, your legs lifting higher up on his hips.

Marcus can barely breathe, let alone speak. He grunts, sighs, and leans in to press his lips to yours. His tongue sliding into your mouth to languidly kiss you. He can’t believe how lucky he is that you are his and he is yours. Never did he imagine he’d find the love of his life so soon in college but he’s glad he did. He wants to keep you forever. His hand shifts from your breast and slides down between you so he can rub your clit.

“Oh God, Marcus.” You moan, rocking your hips up to meet his hand and thrusts. “So good baby, fuck, I love you so much.” You kiss and suck on his neck, leaving a mark that you are sure will be visible for days, but you have to claim him as yours. “Gonna cum baby.”

Your gasp has him pushing deeper inside of you, desperate for you to cum. He keeps the same rhythm that has you gasping and his fingers rub your clit. "Cum for me, love. Cum for me." He pleads, wanting to feel it and his own orgasm is imminent.

You keen when you start to come apart. Shaking as your cunt locks down around him on the next thrust and you soak him in waves of your fluids. Chanting his name as if it’s the only word in the world. Knowing that you want your future to be with him as he holds you close.

"Fuck. Yes baby. Oh God." Marcus pants when you clamp down on him, soaking him, and he bites his lip, thrusting a little faster as he seeks his own orgasm. He should last, make you cum again, but your confession has him on edge. He groans and buries his face in your neck, his cock buried deep as he cums, painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuck baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes in pure bliss when you feel him flood your womb. It’s crazy, stupid and not something you need, but for a brief second you wish he was getting you pregnant. That you were going to have his baby. It’s insane to think about and you quickly push it away. “I love you.” You whisper again, happy you can say it out loud now.

“I love you.” He murmurs, shifting to kiss you again while his cock pulses inside of you. He feels like he’s on fire and he can’t seem to get close enough to you. You’re everything to him and he knows he’s going to marry you one day. You are the rest of his life. He pulls out of you and shifts onto his back, bringing you into his chest. “I - I wrote a song for you.” He whispers, heart pounding still from both his orgasm and nerves.

Your head shoots up and you look at him in surprise. “You did?” Your hand that is on his chest seems to curl in, wanting to hold onto him. “What’s it about, sing it to me.” You demand, wanting to know what sort of song he would write for you.

Marcus shifts, grabbing the guitar he has propped up in the corner and he plucks the strings for a moment to make sure it’s in tune. He exhales and looks at you, “I love you baby.” He promises and starts to play, his eyes closed as he concentrates and the lyrics begin a few moments later.

Sitting up, you don’t bother to cover your breasts, knowing that it doesn’t matter when it’s the two of you. You listen, with your heart in your eyes and absorb the words that he has created for you. Falling in love with him a little more with every word.

He finishes the song, his hand pausing over the strings as he takes a moment before he looks up to see your reaction. You have tears in your eyes and he worries you didn’t enjoy it. “I- was it - do you like it?” He asks, voice wavering with his nerves.

Surging forward, the covers fall off your lap. Launching yourself at him and trapping his guitar between you so you can press your lips to his desperately. “I loved it.” You promise, giggling happily, almost drunk off the feeling of being in love with him. “I love you. Oh god, you have to make a tape of it for me, so I can always have it.”

Marcus smiles against your lips, so relieved and happy you loved it. “Of course, baby. I’ll make you a tape.” He promises, shifting back so he can set the guitar back on the stand and he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. “I love you.” He murmurs, burying his nose in your hair to breathe you in.

Marcus curls around you, his face buried in your neck, and he closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, loving how warm you are against him and he dreams of a life together. Of having kids with you, a home, a dog. The whole nine yards.

****

“Yeah, you know Marcus. He’s great.” You tuck your phone against your shoulder as you look through the rack of dresses. He had told you that he wanted to talk you out somewhere special this weekend and to make sure that you were dressed fancy. Well, as fancy as college kids get, but you are excited. “He probably wants to celebrate saying ‘I love you’, and that’s so fucking sweet. I’m telling you girl, I’m so fucking lucky.”

He steps into the store, glancing around at the crowd and he knows that she’s in the changing room. Her location said so. He steps through the racks, making his way into the ladies changing room and pulls out the gun with the silencer. When she steps out to look in the mirror, he wastes no time shooting her, twice in the chest, once in the head. So quick she barely even registers his presence and he grabs the sunglasses and hat from his jacket, turning it inside out to change his clothing and that’s when you step out. You see her on the floor, blood pouring from her and you look up at the man, his face visible after taking off his hoodie and you scream. He raises the gun, about to shoot you for being a witness but then he hears the commotion of people hearing your scream and he needs to get out of the store before the doors are locked. He rushes off and escapes through the crowds who are panicking when they heard your scream. He can’t risk being caught. He won’t get paid. He memorizes your face and knows he has to find you. He can’t be tied to the crime if there are no witnesses.

****

“I didn’t see where he went. No, I didn’t know him. I didn’t know her.” You tell the detectives again. “But I am telling you that it was this man.” You point to the photo you had picked out of the line up they had given you. It’s been hours, taken down to the station when the police had arrived, you had been shown into the shabby, dreary room and given a single cup of disgusting coffee. “Can I leave now? I just want to call my boyfriend and go home.”

The officers glance at each other, knowing there’s nothing more you can do since you have told them the man who did it. “Fine. You can go.” They say, “but call us if you remember anything else.” He hands you his card and you nod, making your way out of the station. Once you’re on the road, you decide to head straight over to Marcus’s place and when you’re on the back road, you wince when you see the bright lights from the car behind you.

“Go around me, asshole.” You huff under your breath and tap your brakes twice. The car gets closer and then back off, blinding you again and making you hiss. The guy is riding your ass and it’s pissing you off. “Fucking pass me!” You yell, happy when the car revs its engine and you think he’s going to pass. Until your car jolts forward and you realize the crazy bastard has hit you. “What the fuck!”

He revs his engine again, hitting your car once more and you cry out, starting to get scared. His lights are still bright in your rear view mirror and he hits you again, making you skid as you lose control of the car.

Your car spins into the guardrail and the old metal gives way, sending your car down into the embankment of the tiny creek you had been about to cross. Screaming, you see your life flash before your eyes and then nothing but blackness.

He pulls over, wanting to check that you’re dead but just as he starts to pull over, there’s a car coming towards him who pulls over to help you. He speeds off, knowing he can’t risk getting out and he is certain that you’re dead. You have to be. The stranger saw everything and manages to get the plate, writing it on their hand before they get out to see if you’re alive. Thankfully, they have a cell phone and manage to call 911 when they find you unconscious and bleeding, the airbags deployed.

****

“I don’t understand.” Marcus frowns as he looks at his phone, his call going straight to voicemail again. He’s been trying to call you all night and you aren’t answering. He’s worried, you had plans to meet up for dinner tonight and you never showed or messaged him.

“She’s gonna be okay, man. Her phone probably died. She doesn’t charge it for days.” He reminds Marcus who nods, biting his lip. “Yeah. True.” He sighs and glances out of the window, his heart pounding as he imagines all the bad things that could’ve possibly happened to you and he decides to phone the police if you aren’t here or call him within the hour.

****

The first thing you see when you blink is doctors hovering over you. Your name is called and your brow scrunches. “Wha-what happened?” You groan and immediately another face appears in front of you. The detective that you had seen just a few minutes ago at the police station. “What- you?”

The detective shakes his head, “I feared something like this would happen.” He says your name and you frown in confusion at the look on his face. “The man we are looking for is in a notorious crime circle. We worry that he will find you again and kill you because you’re the only witness to his crime. We need to put you into witness protection.”

"What? No, no, I have a date with my boyfriend." You blurt out, not even absorbing what the detective is telling you. "We just said 'I love you'. He's going to be so worried about me. Can I call Marcus? I need to call Marcus."

The detective shakes his head, “I’m sorry. No. We don’t know if they are tapping the lines. Your boyfriend might be in danger and it’s best if he doesn’t know anything about what happened. You need to move. We will arrange everything.” The detective promises, “this is for your safety. Your life is in danger. As soon as we catch him and you testify, he’s in jail. You can’t risk your life, sweetheart.”

You argue with the detective for an hour, until he shows you the pictures of the people the man after you had murdered. Gruesome photos, including a wife and daughter. That’s when you agree and reluctantly check out against medical advice and let the detective lead you away.

****

It’s been days since Marcus heard from you. He’s frantic, your parents don’t know where you are. No one seems to know and the police are dismissing him, saying you’ve likely run off. “She wouldn’t do that. She’s not like that.” He argued but they wouldn’t file a missing person report. He is exhausted, hasn’t slept, and he’s been driving around trying to find you but your apartment is how you left it and your roommate is worried too.

“Marcus, I don’t know what the hell is going on.” Tisha opens the door and lets him in. “All of her stuff is here, she’s not in class, her job hasn’t heard from her. It’s like she’s dropped off the face of the planet.” She rubs her hands over her arms. “I’m worried, especially after that murder at the outlet.”

“I don’t know. She - you know she isn’t like this. I don’t understand. I’m terrified. She’s - fuck - I don’t know what to do.” He sits down, head in his hands as he struggles to figure out what to do. He’s been driving around town for days trying to find you. He’s called everyone you know. No one has seen you. It’s like you’ve disappeared from the planet and his heart breaks when he wonders if you’ve left him, decided you didn’t love him or something changed within you and you’ve left him.

****

Fifteen Years Later:

Living under a new name, having a new life, was supposed to make your life easy. You chew your lip as you sit in your office and wait. The art business was supposed to be low key. Under the radar. You are just a small gallery, although you carried some big name pieces, you are never pictured on the website. Still living under an alias, you know your identity will hold up under light scrutiny, but it still makes you nervous. It’s been a long time, nearly a year, since your handler had called you, letting you know there still is a vague contract out on your life from the asshole you had put behind bars so long ago.

****

“Pike.” Marcus answers his phone, rubbing his forehead as he stares at the file.

“Sir, there’s been another robbery.” His junior agent tells him and he sighs, “I’ll be right there. Send me the address.” He says and hangs up,getting his keys and he’s soon in the car driving to the address he was texted.

When he arrives, the police are already there and he introduces himself to the detective. “The gallery manager is right through here.” The detective says and Marcus makes his way into the gallery. When the officer says the alias name, Marcus looks at you and his jaw drops, your real name coming out of his mouth..

Your name, your real name, hasn’t been said in so long that it takes you a moment to respond. The ghost from your past, the man you thought you would never see again and always regretted that, stands in front of you looking like he’s seen his own ghost. Maybe he has. You panic and shake your head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know that person.” You tell him, praying he doesn’t cause a scene, although you know you have to call Marshal Smith now that your identity has been blown. Your life will be completely uprooted and you had liked working in the art gallery. You tell him your cover name, the one you’ve lived with for the past fifteen years.

Marcus stares at you, knowing he’s not mistaking your face. You’re older, more refined, but he’d know those eyes anywhere. “I- no. No. It’s - it’s been fifteen years. It’s you.” He insists, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong person.” You tell him again, wondering how the hell sweet Marcus Pike became an FBI agent. You repeat your new name again for him with a tolerant smile. “Now, what questions do you have for me agent…Pike, was it?”

He shakes his head again, “no. No. I- fuck. It’s you. It’s gotta be you.” He chokes, getting frustrated. “I thought - I thought you left me. Fuck. I - I can’t do this.” He says to his partner and he rushes out of the gallery.

Your heart breaks, the look on his face was one of pure distress and you swallow harshly. “Let me go see if I can clear this up.” You tell the other agent and the detective. You can see they are curious and you know that it doesn’t matter now. Your life here is over. You hurry after Marcus and see him pacing outside. “Marcus!”

He turns away from you, “don’t. Don’t come near me.” He growls, angry with you. “Don’t - you left. You left me. Don’t - don’t play dumb. I’m not interested in your bullshit answers, okay? The change of name. Don’t - you left me. You left town. Disappeared. And now you want to pretend you’re not who I know you to be?”

He rails at you and you close your eyes at the anguish in his voice. The pain, the fear, the heartbreak of those early years coming back to you quickly. “I- I didn’t want to-“ you start to explain but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want to hear it! You left without the decency to break it off. I thought you were dead.” He is nearly shouting out on the street next to a drab government vehicle and you huff.

“I am in WitSec, Marcus!”

His eyes widen in shock, “what? You- when-? I- shit. When did you- how?” He stammers, trying to figure out what the hell happened and he needs answers. Now. The years of wondering what happened to you, what he did wrong, what he could’ve done differently.

Glancing around nervously, you lower your voice. “The day I disappeared, I saw something I shouldn’t have.” You explain, quickly telling him about the murder you had walked in on.

Marcus is shocked. You witnessed a murder. The murder that happened at the outlet mall. You called your friend - the last person you spoke to - to talk about going out for dinner with Marcus. It makes sense. It fits. Your eyes aren’t lying to him. “I- shit. Seriously?” He asks breathlessly and you nod. He knows how the system works, and dealt with enough witnesses to know you’ll be sent across the country. “I won’t tell anyone. No one will know that you’re here. I promise.

You don’t have to tell the Marshal dealing with your case.”

You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you like this life here. And it’s such a relief to know that someone knows who you really are. You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach because it’s Marcus. You’ve never stopped thinking about him. “You can’t use that name.” You caution him. “There’s still a contract out for my life.” You reveal. “It’s dormant, but only because there’s nothing for them to use to find me.”

Marcus nods, saying the fake name and it’s weird, it doesn’t feel right when he rolls it around his tongue. “I - I don't want you to have to uproot your life again. God, it’s been fifteen years. I- I never stopped wondering what happened to you.” He promises. “Do you- uh, do you want to maybe get dinner? Catch up?”

You freeze for a moment, surprised by the offer and find yourself nodding. “Sure.” You bite your lip. “But it should be at my place. Just in case.” You know that Roberta had an old photo of you and Marcus together from college and Marcus has obviously matured since then, but you can’t risk it. You glance around the street, a nervous habit you’ve picked up since being in WitSec, and then back at him. “Tonight? Or…uh, whenever you want.” You offer. “You have a life, I’m sure.”

Marcus chuckles humorlessly, “not so much. I- I was engaged and she - well, it’s a long story but she went off with her partner. She was a fed too.” He explains, biting his lip as he glances around, his dark eyes meeting yours again. “Tonight.” He nods, not wanting to miss out on catching up. He doesn’t want to waste a second in case you disappear again. “You wanna, uh, write down your address? I can bring take out.” He offers, grabbing his notepad.

“Sure.” You take the notepad from him and write down your address and hand it back to him. “Seven?” You ask and he nods. “So, I’m going to go back in there and talk to your partner. Tell him that you are upset you mistook me for someone else. Is that okay?”

Marcus nods, tucking the notepad back into his jacket and he swallows harshly, the sun hitting you and God, you haven’t changed. Not really. Still so goddamn beautiful. He clears his throat and gestures for you to go back inside. “I’ll tell him. We still need your story about the stolen painting.” He reminds you, stepping inside after you. “Sorry man-” He slaps his partner on the arm, “I thought she was some girl I knew in college. She disappeared and it was a shock. Not her. Just me being a dumb prick.” He jokes and his partner narrows his eyes but accepts the excuse. “So…you wanna tell us about the painting?”

Being involved with the US Marshals, you’ve learned to give a lot of detail, knowing any little thing can be important. You go through the story and try to be as clear as possible, knowing the security footage will be watched as well.

Marcus watches his partner jot down your story and eventually it’s time to go. He doesn’t mention meeting you at seven but nods your way so you know he will be there. He hopes you still like Chinese food. He leaves with your face burned behind his eyes and he’s soon pulling up outside your house, Chinese food in hand when he rings the doorbell.

You hurry towards the door, not calling out because of habit and checking the peep hole before opening. “Marcus.” You didn’t realize how nervous you were until you are looking at the man you had to leave behind so many years ago. Smiling slightly, you open the door. “Come in, you found the apartment alright?”

Marcus nods, “it’s tucked back here but I found it. I’m surprised they didn’t put you in a more secure building. Like a high risk with a security guard and coded doors.” Marcus says and you shrug, “they did at first but now…you know how long it’s been.” Marcus nods, his heart twisting with that realization. “I got you egg rolls and orange chicken. I hope you still like that.”

“That’s perfect.” You lock the door behind him and lead him back into the apartment. “Can I get you something to drink?” You ask. “I have beer, water, some wine, tea. Whatever you like.” You’re rambling, but that’s because you are nervous.

"Uh, a beer sounds good." He says, setting the bag down on the counter. God, it's awkward and he hates it. It used to be so easy with you. He used to spend all his time with you and now, it's like starting all over again even though he knows so many intimate details about you. "Plates?" He asks and you point to the cabinet while you get a couple of beers out of the fridge. He grabs the plates and sets them on the counter then gets the containers from the bag.

“So, what do you want to know?” You ask, opening the bottles and handing him one. You know he must have a million questions and it’s fair. You disappeared out of his life without a word and the thought that this might be closure for him runs through your mind.

“Everything.” He says, his eyes widening a little as he stares at you. “I want to know what you’ve been up to.” He urges and takes a sip of his beer. “It’s been so long and you just disappeared.”

“When I witnessed the murder, I was in denial about the danger I was in.” You admit. “I had left the police station and was driving to your apartment when that bastard ran me off the road. I woke up in the hospital and the detective insisted I needed protection.” You bite your lip. “They told me it was better that no one knows. That Roberta was known to use family and friends to flush out his targets. I couldn’t put you in danger. So they moved me across the country and created a new life for me.”

Marcus knows how it works, understands now how criminals work and operate, how they find people. He shudders when he imagines what could've happened if they had found you. You hand him a fork and spoon and he opens the containers of food so you can serve it up. "I - I get it but - at that time...I went out of my mind trying to find you. I tried everyone you knew, your parents...do they know?"

You bite your lip. “I sent them an anonymous post card, about ten years ago.” You admit quietly. “Just something so they would know, hopefully, that I was safe. I know I broke their hearts, but the Marshall’s are incredibly strict. Especially since Roberta is coming up for some new trial soon.”

Marcus nods, “I moved shortly after you went missing. Ended up in the academy after graduating and I couldn’t sleep. Spent so many nights wondering what happened to you. Even looked you up in the system when I could. I missed you so much. My best friend was gone all of a sudden.”

“Marcus, I-“ you sigh softly and if you had felt like you could, you would reach out and touch his hand. “I’m so sorry. I spent so long - years - wishing I could call you. To explain. Wondering how you were.” Your apology doesn’t seem like it’s enough, but it’s all you can give him. “It took me a long time to get over you, to stop mourning what might have been.”

He sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. He mourned the loss of you, his future with you, for far too long. “I- I ended up getting married. About eight years ago. It didn’t - we got divorced. She didn’t want to compete with the ghost of you.” He admits softly, averting his eyes from yours.

“I’m so sorry.” Your heart sinks, twists and aches in a way that is ridiculous. You left. Of course Marcus had moved on, and the rational side of you wanted him to. To hear that he had, and not in a way that turned out happily, it makes you sad. “Oh Marcus, I’m so sorry.” You murmur quietly, “maybe it would have been better if he had just killed me. Then you, my parents, none of you would have spent so long wondering.”

Marcus chokes on the sip of beer he drank, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. No. I - how could you say that? I would rather you be alive than me have closure. I have closure now and you’re alive. Never say that.” He almost growls, pissed off at you for even thinking it. “Did you…have you got anyone?”

You snort and shake your head. “How?” You ask, motioning around to your apartment. “I live a life that - while comfortable - isn’t mine. No one knows who I really am. I can’t make too close of friends, because I might accidentally reveal something from my real past. A lover? For more than a night or two? No. I couldn’t lie to them. My last real relationship was you.”

He hates that you’ve been alone but he’s also secretly pleased that there’s been no one since. He still feels that flutter in his heart when he looks at you. “I have missed you so much, baby.” He murmurs, setting his fork down so he can look at you properly, for the first time in fifteen years, he takes in every detail.

You smile sadly and nod. “I’ve missed you too, Marcus. I promise you.” You huff and send him a slightly embarrassed look. “I was halfway convinced I was going to marry you after we graduated. Have babies and you and your band were gonna be famous while I designed all your merch. It was my little daydream for a long time.” You admit. “Never thought you would become a Fed.”

Marcus smiles sadly back at you, reaching for your hand. “God…I- I didn’t - I would’ve taken that life in a heartbeat. I still would. I was- shit - I was gonna ask you to marry me. When I graduated. I was gonna ask you.”

It’s so bittersweet to think about that you didn’t even catch where he said he still would. Caught up in your fantasies that had kept you sane while you were scared and alone, tears start to trail down your cheeks. You squeeze his hand and try not to sob.

Marcus shifts closer, standing up so he can wrap his arms around you. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your hair. “It’s okay.” His own eyes sting with tears as he mourns the years he lost thinking you were dead.

You lean into his embrace and inhale the scent of him. The cologne has changed, matured, but the baseline is still Marcus. “I- I missed you so much.” You tell him. “I wanted to bring you. Wanted to see if you would come with me, but I couldn’t.”

“I know.” He does know. Only spouses and children. Not boyfriends. He sighs and breathes you in, “I don’t want to miss you again. Can we start again? As friends?” He asks, knowing he can’t push for more after you’ve had such a trauma and he has his own baggage he needs to divulge at some point.

Friends. You don’t want to be his friend but you nod as you pull back. “Friends.” You murmur with a small smile. “Friends should eat.” You need a moment where he’s not touching you so you can remind yourself that he’s not yours anymore. Despite the fact that you still dream about him, the boy you had loved is not the man in front of you. “And as your friend, I have to tell you that you are still gorgeous. I don’t know how you became better looking, but you have.”

Marcus can’t help it. He blushes and you giggle at the way he flushes. “You, uh, you look way better. Like - God, you look gorgeous. Always were but you seem more refined, grown up. You’re gorgeous, baby.” He promises and he settles back down at the counter so he can continue eating.

You finish your meal, sighing happily when then put your fork down and pick up your beer to finish the last swallow. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a dinner like that.” You admit, standing so you can start to clean up. “You mentioned an ex wife and an ex fiancée, so anything else going on in your love life?” You ask causally. Just because you hadn’t moved on didn’t mean Marcus hadn’t. And if you were going to be his friend, you should know.

“It’s complicated. I haven’t been seeing anyone since Teresa. She’s my ex. She, uh, I proposed to her and then she dumped me for her partner. She’s a fed too. It set me back so I have been just enjoying my alone time recently. No one - no one seems to capture my attention.” He says, looking up at you.

“Someone will.” You predict. “I bet you are still a complete gentleman, until….” You bite your lip, aware making sexual comments is well beyond appropriate. “Until it’s time not to be.” You finish lamely and turn around to load the dishwasher.

Marcus bites his lip, remembering all the times you used to moan beneath him. He was a fumbling college kid then. He knows what he’s doing now. He wonders if you’d like his matured sexuality. “You know me too well.” He chuckles softly and stands to help you when the doorbell rings.

You turn towards the door, a flash of fear washing over your face. That same dread you get every time the doorbell rings when you aren’t expecting someone. “I’m not expecting anyone.” You tell him, moving towards the corner of the dining room where you keep a baseball bat.

Marcus shakes his head, pushing you back and reaching under his jacket in habit until he realizes he locked his weapon in his glove box. He reaches for the baseball bat and takes it from you, slowly inching towards the door and opening it. He prepares to swing but there’s no one there. He steps into the hallway and sees no one around and he turns to look at you. “No one here.” He says, frowning until he sees the note on the door.

Marcus brings the note taped to the door into the apartment and your heart drops. It’s not a letter from the building, and instinctively you know it’s trouble. “Shit.” You hiss, nearly in tears. “I- open it.” You ask Marcus. “What does it say?”

He walks in and locks the door behind him, setting the bat down so he can open the note. His eyes scan it first and he hisses in frustration. “It says…it says ‘you can’t hide forever. We know where you are. The appeal is coming and you won’t testify again. We will make sure of it’.” Marcus finishes, his blood boiling that someone has put this on your door.

“Oh God.” Your stomach flips and you swear you are about to lose your dinner. “He’s found me. I- I have to call the Marshall.” Your mind whirls and the protocols that have been drilled into your head come to mind. “I’m sorry.” For a moment you pause, hating that you had found Marcus again, only to be pulled away again. You will be relocated, disappear again and forced to live another life completely different from this one. “I wish- I wish things were different.”

Marcus shakes his head, starting to panic at the thought of losing you again. “He only knows that you live here. Take time off of work. Come- come live with me. I can protect you. He doesn’t know where I am. Please, baby. I- I don’t want to lose you again.” He knows you’d be safer moving across the country again but his selfish need to have you back in his life makes him give you a desperate plea to stay with him.

“I- wha-I- what?” You shake your head. “Marcus, I can’t- I can’t put you in danger. Roberta had connections. I- I should have called the Marshal just as soon as you recognized me.” You admit quietly. You had selfishly wanted to spend a little bit of time with him. “I would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me.”

Marcus shakes his head, “no. I’m a goddamn fed sweetheart. I can protect you. Let me protect you.I don’t - I can’t lose you again.” He says, “I can keep you safe.”

Your heart melts and you look down at the letter. “We will need to call the Marshal assigned to my case.”

Marcus nods, heart sinking that you’re going to leave again. He swallows harshly, feeling the second chance at possibly being with you slip away and it kills him. He hates it. “Uh, yeah. I’ll, um, give you some privacy. Where’s your bathroom?” He asks, needing to pee.

You show him towards the bathroom and pull out your phone to call the number you have. Taking a deep breath, you hope they will let Marcus watch over you. Your heart beats wildly as the phone rings.

Marcus stares in the mirror, his eyes wide as he thinks about losing you again. He barely survived the first time he lost you. He isn’t sure he can do it again. He swallows harshly and washes his hands, making his way back into the living room to hear what the marshal says.

“Marcus Pike. Yes- yes I know that is my old boyfriend.” You repeat on the phone to Marshal Scott. “He’s an FBI agent. He’s working on a break in at my art gallery.” You pause, your eyes sliding to Marcus as he walks back in the room. “No, no the break in was about a painting. I didn’t think I needed to call you. Yes.” You sigh. “I know I should have called you when he recognized me, but I didn’t. I just- I wanted to be me for a little bit.”

Marcus leans against your kitchen counter, not wanting to interrupt and he’s nervous about the answer. He knows how this works and he is worried about you disappearing and him never seeing you again, just like before.

“No. No, don’t do that.” You have been watching Marcus this entire time and you decide you can’t leave. Scott wants to relocate you again, like you had expected. “He’s an FBI agent. He said I could stay at his place.” That’s not exactly what Marcus had said, but your improvising. “Yes, I’m declining a relocate.” Another long pause while Scott reminds you exactly what Roberta had ordered for you. “Yes, I know. I know I’m risking my life.” You sigh and relax. “I’ll call you with the details.”

Marcus relaxes slightly, glad that you aren’t relocating yet. The marshal could change his mind but he agrees to it for now. You hang up the phone and Marcus offers you a reassuring smile. “You wanna come to mine tonight or tomorrow?”

“Can we go tonight?” You ask quietly. “I don’t like the idea they know where I am.” You shiver slightly and look towards your windows, thankfully already shut and covered. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if it was okay first.”

Marcus nods, stepping closer to you to place his hand on your upper arm. “Of course we can.” He assures you, knowing you have to be scared after so long on the run. “Come on baby, go pack what you need. I can always come back with you if you need something you forget.”

You nod and quickly make your way into the bedroom so you can pack a bag. You’ll have to close the gallery, but that has already been planned because of the break in. At your underwear drawer, you bite your lip, chastising yourself as you throw some lingerie in it. Knowing that it won’t be used, but you can’t help but want to feel a little sexy around the love of your life.

When you come back out, Marcus is already checking the vicinity outside of your window, discreetly looking for any out of place cars or people. “I think it’s clear but you need to stay close to me. We will get your car tomorrow, it needs to be checked and I don’t want them to have put a tracker on it and us not notice and lead them right to you.” He explains and you nod. “You got everything?” He asks. You nod again and he gestures for you to shift behind him. “Stay five paces behind me.”

Your eyes widen at how direct and professional he is. It’s a turn on if you are honest and he transforms from the sweet man you have loved since you were twenty, to a steely eyed agent in front of your eyes. Staying five steps behind him, you stop when he stops and watch as he scans the parking lot before hustling you to his car.

Marcus pushes you into his car and grabs your bag to put it in the trunk before he makes his way to the driver's side. He gets in and checks his surroundings before he’s pulling away from your apartment complex. “I’ll take the long way home. Looping around just in case someone follows.” He explains and he turns the radio off, wanting to concentrate. “How many times have you moved?” He asks? Wanting to know.

“Four.” You admit, nervously glancing behind you every twenty seconds. “They found me once right after they arrested Roberta. Then they followed the agents when I testified. And once more when an old high school friend ended up being in the same town.” You bite your lip. “When they followed the agents, they killed them.” You don’t want that to happen to Marcus. “Maybe it’s better if you put me in a hotel.”

Marcus shakes his head, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “No. No. I’m not sending you off. I- I can’t do that. I can’t - I’d never see you again. I know I’m being selfish but I can keep you safe. You just have to listen to everything I tell you.” He says, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Listening to him ramble, you realize how much your disappearance affected him. “I’m so sorry.” You murmur quietly, wanting to reach out and touch him, but it would distract him. “Am I-“ you break off and then take a breath. “Why did you go into the FBI, Marc?” You ask softly. You don’t want to assume that you are the reason that he changed his career goals, but it was a bit of a stretch from music and business - to appease his parents - to being an FBI agent.

Marcus sighs, biting his lip for a moment before he responds back to you. “I- I was so desperate to find you when you disappeared. Just to know what happened. If you were dead or if I did something wrong. I wanted to have closure so I figured that becoming a cop would get me access but I decided to go further and become a fed. Went to Quantico and even when I graduated and started my first job, I couldn’t find you in the system. Business wasn’t going to get me answers. Music certainly wasn’t.”

“I - I’m so sorry.” You can never apologize enough, and you can only hope that his job fulfills him. That he enjoys the work he does. “I wish I had gotten to talk to you one last time before I left. I begged them, cried for weeks and they even had to hospitalize me because I was so sick from crying. My entire world was gone and it nearly killed me.”

Marcus swallows harshly, hating to hear that. “Sweetheart, I wish - there’s so much I would change but I like my job. I like helping people and putting bad guys away. It’s fulfilling and I can help change peoples lives. I wish- I wish it was me who was sent away. I would’ve traded places with you in a heartbeat.”

“This life has been hard, Marc.” You shake your head. “It’s lonely and I wouldn’t wish that on you. You are too social. You like being around people, talking to people too much. And your parents…..” you had loved how welcoming his parents were when you met them. It would have killed them to lose their only child.

He wishes he could turn back the clock. Stop you going to that damn outlet mall and keep you safe with him so he wouldn't have missed you for fifteen years. Marcus nods, knowing he would’ve found it hard but he would’ve done it if it meant keeping you safe. “I - I could’ve dealt with it.” He says, shifting his hands on the steering wheel. “I love - I loved you so much.” He murmurs, pulling into his community.

“I loved you too.” It’s easy to admit, even if all those old feelings are rushing back with astonishing speed. Not that you ever really fell out of love with him. You admire the neat brick of the stately townhomes. “Wow, you found one here?” You ask, knowing that you had never managed to find anything close to this when you had been looking.

Marcus smiles, “yeah. I…I was supposed to move in here with my fiancé but- that one. Yeah. I- I envisioned having a family here and it didn’t happen but it is what it is.” He says, sounding a little sad but he can’t help but mourn a life he could’ve had.

“I’m sorry.” It hurts to think of Marcus with someone else, but it's been fifteen years. You don’t have any claim on him. “Hopefully one day you will have the life you want. I would just love to use my name. My real name. It seems like getting married and having kids is the dream of another life. I used to look forward to it, but now?” You shrug. “Life hasn’t turned out the way either of us wanted it seems.”

Marcus nods, "I know." He murmurs and he kills the engine of his car. "Shall we go inside?" He asks, wondering if you are ready. "I'm gonna get out first and make sure there's no one in the vicinity and then I will get you in, then grab your bag." He says, leaving no room for argument when it comes to your safety.

You nod, watching as he steps out of the car and you clutch your purse. It’s overwhelming, watching his dark eyes roam over the parking lot and then he walks over to you and opens the door. He’s professional, but there’s more to it, this is personal for him and it makes you shiver. Feeling for the first time in fifteen years like you might be safe.

When Marcus opens his front door, he disarms it and locks the door behind you, telling you to wait there while he checks his home hasn’t been found. After sweeping the home, he comes back into the hallway and nods, “all clear.” He says and you make your way into his home.

Marcus’ home is exactly what you would imagine adult Marcus to have. Neat and clean, the furniture is a bit on the masculine side but there are touches of softness. A three wick candle on the coffee table, a soft looking throw over the back of the leather sofa. Comforting and inviting. You wipe your hands on your pants and sigh.

“I hope you like it here. I’m sorry it’s basic. It’s just me.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I can show you to the guest room. Let me grab your bag. I’ll lock the door on my way out.” He says and makes his way back down the hall.

You look around the living room and step into the dining room and kitchen as he opens the front door. Curious about how he lived. You open the fridge door and chuckle, not seeing much and guessing that Marcus still prefers to have someone else cook for him. He wasn’t very good at it. At least he wasn’t when you were together. Though he had all the proper cookware. Cooking had become a hobby of yours, something you could do alone. You close the door and your head turns towards the door as it opens again. Tense and hoping it’s Marcus.

He walks in with your bag, licking the door behind him, alarming the alarm system. He guides you along to his spare room, opening the door. “Hopefully it’s okay.” He says shyly, offering you a soft smile.

“It’s perfect.” It could be the couch for all you care, it’s the thought that counts. Marcus is taking you into his home. “Thank you, Marc.” Reaching out and touching his shoulder, you give him a grateful smile. “I know you didn’t have to do this. Is there any way we could have some groceries delivered? Let me cook for you to thank you?”

Marcus smiles, “yeah. I’d love that. We can arrange for groceries to be delivered.” He promises and shrugs, “I’m still as bad a cook as I ever was. It would be nice to have some home cooked meals for a change. Takeout has me doing more morning runs.” He playfully taps his stomach.

“Whatever.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You’re hotter now than you were back then.” You blurt out, feeling your face burn when you realize you said that out loud. It could be wrong, but you don’t think so. Not when Marcus suddenly ducks his head and you swear you see him blush some. “I’m assuming I’m staying here until the threat is gone?” You ask. “No work?”

He nods, “no work. We can’t risk them finding you there.” He says and you sigh but concede. “For the record, you have always been gorgeous. Even more so now.” He says, biting his lip and hoping he didn’t overstep.

“And you still know how to make a girl feel like the only one in the world.” You murmur quietly, stepping closer to him and wishing that it hadn’t been fifteen years since you had last seen him. “Do you know how much that affects a girl?”

Marcus blushes slightly, feeling like a college kid again despite a divorce and a failed engagement. He’s been around the block and he is scared to screw things up, especially when he has to keep you safe. He clears his throat and reaches for your hand to squeeze it. “I have missed you, sweetheart.”

“If it’s not something you want, or you can’t, let me know.” You start off, deciding that you want to take a leap and see if Marcus still wants you. “But…” you step closer. “If I have to be in your house, protected by you….” You smirk and bite your lip. “Wouldn’t I be safest in your bed?”

Marcus swallows harshly, a little nervous but his cock is already hardening at the thought of having you in his arms. He steps closer until his chest is pressed against yours. “I think that would probably be best.” He agrees, “that way I can ensure your well-being.” He murmurs, his eyes darting down to your lips. He knows he’s crossing so many professional lines but fuck, he wants you. “I shouldn’t but-” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, unable to stop himself.

You moan into the kiss, immediately tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on it like you used to. In an instant, you feel like you are in your twenties again, hopelessly in love and needing your boyfriend. “Marcus.” You whimper, pulling back so you can push his jacket off his shoulders and pause when you see his gun. “Take me to your bed and make love to me.”

He groans, reluctantly pulling back and he takes your hand, guiding you to his bedroom. He flicks the lamp on and works on removing his gun, checking the safety and setting it down on his nightstand before he shrugs out of the holster. He pulls his tie off and reaches for you, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it out of your skirt, wanting to touch you after so many years. “God, you’re still so fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, his eyes drinking you in when you are in your bra.

Your fingers work the buttons of his dress shirt, trying to remember the last time you had been this excited to sleep with someone. You’ve had lovers over the years, the physical needs making it almost certain you would have them, but no one had ever compared to Marcus. “Fuck,” you can see the tent he’s starting to sport, obviously still a boxers man.

Marcus fumbles to unclasp your bra, needing to touch you and when you drop your arms to let him pull it off of you after you push his shirt down his arms, his hands immediately cup your tits. “Have these gotten bigger?” He asks, squeezing them and massaging them.

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter closed as he touches you, managing to blindly push his shirt over shoulders that seem broader than they used to be. He’s in an undershirt, of course he is, and you love it. “I’m bigger.” You joke.

He shakes his head and reluctantly releases you so he can pull his shirt over his head with one hand. Once it’s fluttering to the floor, he’s reaching for you and pulling you against him so he can feel your skin on his. “Forgot how beautiful your tits are.” He says and leans down to kiss along your neck.

“Fuck Marc.” You moan, tilting your head back so he can kiss more of your skin. “You always were a tits man.” You tease him, reaching between you to squeeze his hard cock through his suit trousers.

He groans into your skin, inhaling the sweet scent that’s purely you. Burned into his memory from all those years ago and it’s like coming home. His lips kiss along your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth, his hands caressing your back and sliding down to squeeze your ass as he hunches over you.

Gasping out in pleasure, you pull him towards your breast. Enjoying the way that he suckles and bites, the way he’s remembered how you like to be touched. He switches over to the other breast and he slides his hand around you to start unbuttoning your pants.

Marcus works fast to push your skirt down your legs, groaning your name as he exposes your underwear and he kneels, pushing his nose against your mound. “God, I forgot how good you smell.” He groans and hooks his fingers in the cotton, dragging them down and you kick your panties aside after kicking your shoes off of your feet. Marcus dives back in, his nose pressing into your folds as his tongue slides through them, tasting you for the first time in fifteen years.

“Marc!” Your cry is strangled, almost choked out as you grasp for anything to keep you upright. Hand slapping against the wall as you remember exactly why you loved Marcus’ tongue so much. His skills have only improved with time and you moan when he flicks his tongue over your clit expertly.

His fingers curl around your leg, lifting it into his shoulder so he can get deeper into your pussy. His tongue pushing deep and he groans your name. “Fuck baby. So good.” He murmurs into your flesh when he pulls back for a moment, “always tasted so good.” He dives back in and slides his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth.

Having Marcus eat you out is like a gift from God. Most men are lazy with it, or refuse to go down on someone even though they expect a blowjob. Marcus eats pussy like he was born to do it, like it’s his favorite sport in the world. Making you shiver when he groans into your folds and your leg trembles as he pushes you closer to cumming.

He pushes you further into the wall, keeping you upright and his hand slides along your leg and up your body to squeeze your tit, pinching your nipple and his other hand slides between your legs, pushing two fingers inside of you with a groan. He desperately wants you to cum for him now.

“Oh fuck, Marc baby, baby, I’m gonna cum.” You moan, your head hitting the wall with a thud and your entire body lurches forward. “Shit, gonna- gonna cum.” Your walls clench down on him and you wail his name as you soak his fingers.

Marcus hisses into your flesh as you clamp down on his fingers, soaking them, and he sucks on your clit a little harder, wanting to absorb every second of your orgasm after so many years apart. His fingers pump inside of you and he pulls his mouth away when you start to shove on his hair and he tilts his head up so he can watch you as you cum.

Desperate little gasps rip out of your throat as he keeps your body jerking and twitching for him. Knowing exactly where to press inside you cunt in order to push another sob out of you. Your eyes are closed and you start chanting his name. “Marc, Marc, Marc baby, please.”

He wants you to cum again. His fingers keep pressing and pushing inside of you, his lips kissing along your thigh and he presses his thumb against your clit. “So good for me baby.” He murmurs, needing you to cum for him.

Your eyes spring open when you realize he wants you to roll straight into a second orgasm. “Fuck!” You squeal, feeling your walls bear down on his fingers again and your body shakes as you come apart.

His fingers curl and he kisses your stomach as he enjoys the way your walls are fluttering around his fingers. He adds a third, stretching you out and his thumb rubs your clit a little harder, “so pretty. Never forgot how pretty you are like this.”

“Marcus.” You groan. “I need you.” You reach down and try to pull him up so you can kiss him. “I want you inside me.” You beg. “I have an IUD and it’s been over a year since I’ve been with anyone. More like two.”

“Cum on my fingers and I’ll fuck you.” He promises, kissing your stomach again and his free hand reaches for yours to grip it. “Cum for me again.” He pleads, wanting to see you do it.

“Three?” You gasp out, holding onto his hand like a lifeline as you try to stay upright. Your leg threatens to give out as he continues to pump his fingers into you deep and precise. Pressing against that special spot again. Your breath echoes in your ears until stars burst behind your eyes and you scream out his name.

He nearly loses it when you cum again, clamping down on his fingers and he works you through it until you are slumping over him. He withdraws his fingers, surging forward to press his lips to yours as your leg is still wrapped around his waist as he presses you against the wall while his tongue tangled with yours.

You moan, tasting yourself on his tongue and not minding it one bit. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. Needing to feel him against you as he presses you into the wall.

Marcus needs you. He scrambles to pull you along with him and soon he’s laying you down on his bed, working on his pants to push them down. He groans in relief at finally having his cock free and you whimper in response at seeing it again. He kicks off his shoes and hops out of his pants, eventually ending up kneeling on the bed.

“God, I missed you.” You whisper, drinking in the sight of him. He’s filled out, not quite as skinny as he was in college. Broader and stronger and he still turns you on more than any other man you’ve ever been with. “Come to me, baby.” You reach out for him, wanting to feel him again.

Marcus can’t deny you anymore. He shifts between your legs, his chest heaving as he grips his cock and notches himself at your entrance. His dark eyes meet yours in the lamplight as he starts to push inside of you. Shifting to his forearms so he can press his lips to yours.

It’s overwhelming and perfect. Your lips melting against his as the girth of him stretches you out. Filling you perfectly like you’ve never been able to replicate with anyone else. Your eyes flutter closed and all you can do is moan your pleasure.

He slides his tongue against yours, enjoying the way you seem to melt beneath him. There’s so much he wants to say but he can’t. He can’t tell you how much he loves you when he can show you. He moves his hips, setting a slow place, his lips shifting to kiss down your neck.

Instead of being frantic and rushed, you find the pace turning slow and steady. Making you groan as you start to rock you hips in rhythm with him. Your fingers caress his back and you feel the muscles dance underneath the skin. “Marcus.”

He should be frantic but after so many years without you, he just needs to feel all of you. He moans your name into your skin, his cock twitching inside of you when your nails dig into his back when he hits something deep inside of you. “Missed you. Missed this so much.” He murmurs, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I missed you too, baby.” You promise him, closing your eyes and smiling as he moans again. “Fuck, I - I love you.” You confess. “I’ve never stopped, it’s always been you.”

Marcus swears his heart stops at that moment. “Always been you.” He echoes, “I love you. I love you. Baby, I love you.” He declares breathlessly and his pace gets a little faster with his need to see and hear you fall apart beneath him again.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moan his name again. “I love you.” You pant. “Marcus, I love you. Oh, it’s so good.” Your nails dig into his shoulders and your cunt squeezes him tight. “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

You gasp and he keeps the pace and thrust of his hips the same, not wanting to change when you tell him you’re about to cum. He wants to feel it. He wants to feel you soak him again. “That’s it sweetheart. Do it. Cum for me.”

You want to stay in this moment forever. The way that his body is slick with sweat and his grunts as he rocks into you. The warmth of his breath washing over your skin and the throbbing of the veins in his cock against your walls. Still, he had begged you to cum and that’s all you can. Your body primed for it and the next thrust as your back arching and your cry ripping from your throat.

“Fuck.” Marcus pants when you clamp down on his cock. It’s so good and he loves it. He loves everything about this moment. It’s more than anything he’s experienced since you disappeared from his life. Even his marriage could never have lived up to this. He groans, knowing he should try and make you cum again but the emotions are too much and he’s soon pushing deep inside of you, cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot seed.

Once he collapses on top of you, you can’t help but giggle. Relief, joy and happiness all roll together to make you try to catch your breath while you stroke his back and kiss his shoulder and neck. “God. I have to be dreaming.” You giggle. “This is the best dream and I don’t want to wake up.”

Marcus shifts onto his back, bringing you with him and his cock is softening inside of you. His hands rubbing your back. “Me neither. I never want to lose you again.” He murmurs, eyes closed as he breathes you in.

You hum in agreement, unable to believe that you are back in his arms and you close your eyes. Relaxing into a deep sleep, finally feeling safe for the first time in fifteen years.

Marcus holds you as you fall asleep, not able to fall asleep just yet and he shifts carefully to lay you down. You stir without his heat but he’s quick to cover you up. He sneaks into the bathroom, wetting a rag to clean you up and covers you with the duvet again. He checks the windows and doors, making sure the home is secure and the alarm is set before he grabs two bottles of water and sets one down on the nightstand for you. He slides under the covers and you immediately reach for him, curling into his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he breathes you in and closes his eyes; deciding then and there that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

****

Glancing at the clock as you stir, you wonder when Marcus will be home. Grinning to yourself as you realize that you think of this townhouse as home. It’s only been a few days, but if you are scared, you don’t feel like it. You’ve been puttering around the house when he has to leave, curling up with him when he’s here. It’s been magical and it makes you yearn for the life you would have had together if you hadn’t been put into witness protection.

Marcus is exhausted, rubbing his forehead as he stares at the latest security footage where he’s trying to find Roberta. On top of trying to find the art thief, he’s personally working to try and find the gang making you conceal from the world. He feels guilty that he’s loved having you in his home, coming home to you every night. It’s like living a fantasy of what if he had proposed and you hadn’t disappeared. He loves it. He loves you. It’s hard to remind himself that you’re in danger and he has to help you otherwise it could be your life. He glances at the clock and decides to call it a day, wanting to go home to you.

The table is set and there’s a bottle of wine open to breathe. It might be a little over the top for a Tuesday night, but you have nothing else to do but work on some recipes that you have been wanting to try. A little romantic and it pairs well with the lingerie that you had decided to put on under your dress. Feeling a little like a 1950’s housewife when you hear the designated three raps on the door to say that Marcus is home.

Marcus unlocks the door, disarming the alarm and resetting it with his entrance and he makes sure the door is locked behind him before he sets his briefcase down and makes his way into the kitchen. “Hey sweetheart. God, that smells good.” He groans, looking over at the stove and he reaches for you, dragging you into his chest so he can press his lips to yours.

“Hey.” You light up when you see him again. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving. I can eat too.” He teases, smirking at you and you giggle and slap his chest. “I love you.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours, “can’t believe I get to come home to you every night.” He confesses, “feels like a goddamn dream and I’m gonna wake up at some point.”

“I do too.” You agree softly, your hand sliding down to caress his cheek. “It’s been such a treat, as horrible as that sounds. I know I can’t go outside and my life is in danger, but I get to have you.” You lean in and kiss him softly. “How was your day, baby?”

“Don’t worry baby. I’m gonna find him. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you softly again. “Day was…laborious. I was going over the security footage and files for both cases and I- I am trying to run through accounts but the bureaucracy slows me down.” He confesses with a frown.

“Then it sounds like a good meal and a relaxing night is just.” You kiss his chin. “What.” Your lips brush his cheek. “You.” Another to his nose. “Need.” You smirk as you kiss his lips. “I’m thinking that after you eat, you need a nice, long, luxurious blow job to put you at ease.”

Marcus chuckles, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. “You’re too good to me, baby.” He shakes his head, “as long as I get to eat you out too.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss along your jaw just as the timer for your cooking goes off. He smacks your ass, “I’ll pour the wine and I’m doing the washing up. You are gonna relax after.” He insists, shrugging off his jacket to hang it in the hallway before he comes back in to get the bottle of wine.

You would protest, but you’ve cleaned as you cooked, so there’s only the final dish and the plates that would need to be cleaned up. You rush to plate up dinner and admire him as he rolls up his sleeves to pour the wine after he pulls off his tie. It’s a nice night, the two of you and a good meal, some wine and continuing to learn about each other’s lives while you’ve been apart. “Oh, before I forget, I called Scott today. Checked in. He’s still not happy, but he says you have been keeping them in the loop, so he’s content to leave me here.”

Marcus nods, setting the wine bottle down. “I know he’s not happy but it is what it is. We haven’t had any notes or any threats since you’ve been here. We’ve had a man outside your place since you left and they haven’t seen any activity. I think you’re safe. No, I know you’re safe.” He tries to assure you, “and I swear to you I’ll find the bastard and his team.”

“I know you will.” You’ve learned a lot about his career and exactly how good of an agent Marcus is. “I’m honestly-“ you shrug. “I’m happy right here. I know I’m probably intruding on your personal space, but I’ve been as relaxed as I could possibly be, given that someone is trying to kill me.” You joke.

Marcus shakes his head, reaching for you. “There’s nowhere else I want you to be than right here with me. I was selfish. You’d be safer across the country but I - I couldn’t lose you again. I love you so much.” He says, leaning in to kiss your forehead again.

Marcus chuckles, letting go of you so you can both sit down to eat. He groans at the sight of the meal you’ve cooked and his stomach rumbles. “I gotta get bigger pants. I haven’t eaten this good since I left my mom’s house.” Marcus chuckles, picking up the serving spoon. “You are too good to me.” He murmurs, looking up to meet your gaze and he serves your plate first.

“Not with all the exercise you’ve been getting.” You tease, sending him a small wink. Every night Marcus has exhausted you. Fucking you in every room of this townhouse and almost every surface with his insatiable appetite for you. Both of you collapse into bed to sleep in each other's arms. It’s like you’re twenty again. “Still sexy and fit.”

He can’t help but flush as he serves himself and sets the spoon down. “The exercise has been keeping me fit.” He says while blushing and he reaches for the glass of wine. “To still being sexy and fit.” He toasts and you clink your glass with his. “I know you are getting bored in this place. I’m doing everything I can to get this bastard so you can have your life back. See your parents. Your friends. I’m doing what I can.” He promises after you have finished eating.

“I would love to see my parents.” You admit, reaching out and gasping his hand. “Would you- would you come with me?” You ask. “When I go to see them? Explain what happened? I understand if you can’t, you’re putting off so much to help me.”

Marcus nods, “of course. Of course I’ll be there. Baby, what - this is-” He swallows harshly and squeezes your hand, “every day I allow myself to believe that this is our life together. I have a little fantasy that I’m coming home to my wife. To our family. I imagine us having a child or two. I- I want this to be forever. Like I wanted it to be forever fifteen years ago. It’s always been you.” He promises, feeling guilty for being married and engaged but those failed because those women never matched up.

He’s apologized to you for not looking for you harder, for moving on. All things that you never expected and don’t want him to be upset over. Those expressive eyes search yours and you smile softly. “It’s been my little fantasy too.” You confess. “When you find Roberta and I can be myself again, why don’t we make that a reality?” You ask. “Would you marry me, Marcus?”

“In a heartbeat.” He assures you, “I’d marry you tomorrow if I could. I- I was going to, you know, I was going to propose not long after I played you that song. I always imagined my life with you. No one else. Even when I was married, I thought of what could have been. I want to marry you.” He promises, “and I will. I’ll get Roberts and you can be Mrs. Pike. Have the life we should’ve had.”

You can’t help but grin, leaping up from your chair so you can rush around and press your lips to his in a greedy kiss. Feeling like every dream you’ve created to keep yourself sane is coming true. Marcus is your knight in shining armor and you want nothing more than for him to rescue you. “Whatever you need me to do, to help you put this behind us, I’m willing to do.” You promise him. “I want to start my life with you.”

Marcus pulls you into his lap, cupping your cheek so he can kiss you again. “I love you.” He murmurs, nudging your nose, and he will do anything he can to keep you safe. Even if it means laying down his own life. He will do it to keep you safe.

“Baby, don’t worry about cleaning up, let’s go to bed.” You beg, caressing his cheek. “I need you. I need you so much.”

Marcus can’t refuse you. He nods, shifting to stand up with you and he takes your hand, dishes abandoned as he guides you to the bedroom, your now shared bedroom. When he is holding you after you’ve made love and you’re asleep, he’ll stare at the ceiling, trying to think of anything that he read in the files to help him catch the bastard that’s after you.

You decide that you don’t want Marcus to undress you. Pulling away from him with a smile, you’re happy you decided on a wrap dress that is easily removed. Most morning Marcus leaves you in the bed, pulling away quietly so he doesn’t disturb you and when you wake up, it’s because of the shower. So he didn’t see the lingerie you had chosen for him.

Marcus groans when you unravel your dress. His eyes drinking in the silk and lace clinging to your body and his cock is now throbbing in his slacks. “Fuck baby. You look so good.” He murmurs, “so good. I’m so lucky to have you.” He declares and surges forward to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close so he can press his lips to yours, pushing the dress off of your shoulders.

Moaning softly, you smile into the kiss, just as eager. Just as wanting as Marcus. Your fingers memorizing how many buttons it takes to strip off his smart dress shirts. Eager to feel his warm skin underneath. “Make love to me Marcus.” You beg.

He won’t say no, couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. He wants you. Fuck, he wants this for the rest of his life. When your hands touch his chest, he groans your name and he unclasps the pretty lace bra, “so pretty. Look so pretty in this.”

“I think you like me in anything.” You tease him, giggling quietly. “But you love me in nothing.” You work on his belt to unclasp it and unhook his pants to reach down and squeeze his cock. Groaning when you feel how hard he is.

“Love you in anything and nothing at all. Love every inch of you.” He promises, “I love you. You.” He murmurs, sliding his hands along your back and then your arms as he slides the straps down your arms until he’s ducking down to take your nipple into his mouth.

There’s something about Marcus, he’s thorough. He wants his partner to be satisfied and he finds what makes them tick. Your moan of his name is soft, accompanied by your wrist twisting, starting to pump his cock as best you can. “Baby, no foreplay. I just need you.” You whine.

He whines back, having wanted to eat you out but he doesn’t deny you. He nods, guiding you back towards the bed and he lays you down while he shrugs out of his pants and throws his clothes on the floor. His hands trail along your legs until he’s hooking his fingers into your panties to drag them down.

“Marcus.” You whimper, rocking your hips up as he stands straight and strips his trousers down. His boxers have a large tent in the middle with a wet spot and you groan at the sight. “Fuck, I want you to fuck me, but I want to suck your cock.”

Marcus smirks, “tell me what you want baby. Whatever you want is yours. I’m yours.” He promises and reaches down to shove his boxers down. His cock bouncing as he kicks them aside.

“Fuck.” You moan, biting your lip before you turn around and tilt your head off the end of the bed. “Fuck my throat, baby. I want to feel you gag me before you fuck me stupid tonight.” Making love takes various forms, after all.

“Jesus. Such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” He coos, shuffling closer and he caresses your neck before gripping his cock. He pushes the head between your lips and you take him inside of your mouth, making him groan. “So damn good.” He murmurs, watching you as you take him deeper, his hand immediately going to your neck so he can feel the bulge from his length.

You moan, enjoying the look on his face until your vision is blocked by his body. Letting him use your throat as you try to open it up more for him. Marcus is girthy and it’s a lot, tears leaking out of your eyes and rolling back into your hair, but you love it.

“Jesus Christ. This is - fuck. You’re gonna make me cum.” He grunts, pulling out of your mouth. He wants to try that again another time when he can properly fuck and cum down your throat but that night isn’t tonight after you’ve confessed you want a future with him. You pant, trying to catch your breath and he caresses your cheek. “How do you want me?” He asks, wanting you to decide.

So much of the time, Marcus is in control. Giving you pleasure and making sure that you enjoy yourself. Right now, you want to take care of him. “I want to ride you baby.” You decide, sitting up and reaching for him. “Let me take care of my future hubby tonight.” You coo, grinning at how that sounds.

He grins, nodding as he shifts to lay down on the bed, watching you move to your knees. “Come here, my love.” He beckons you over, needing to feel every emotion he’s withheld over the past fifteen years. He wants you to take what you want from him.

You go eagerly, crawling up his body and dropping random kisses. There’s nothing about Marcus that you don’t love. When you straddle his waist, your waist no time in dropping a kiss on his lips while you reach between the two of you to grasp his cock and quickly sink down on him.

“Shit.” Marcus hisses, his heart about to beat out of his chest and he swears he could die then and there and be a happy man. His hands find your hips as you take all of him inside of you and he groans your name, surging up to deepen the kiss as his tongue slides into your mouth.

You start off slow. Rolling your hips while you groan into the kiss. Circling them and clenching down on Marcus to hear the lovely little gasp he gives. Your fingers find his hair and you swear you could live right here. “Love you.” You promise, sliding your hands onto his chest and pushing upright. “Whenever someone touched me, it felt so wrong. You’re my love, my lover, my soulmate.”

Marcus slides his hands along your back as you start to rock on his cock. "I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart." He murmurs, caressing you and his dark eyes watch you as you move on top of him. "You're everything. My everything." He promises, heart thumping in his chest.

“One day I want to have your babies.” You promise him, moaning softly at the thought. “You were made to be a daddy, and I can’t wait to see you holding our baby.” You clench down around him again at the thought.

Marcus groans, cock twitching inside of you at the thought. "Fuck." He grunts, hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. "Fuck yes. I want - God, I want to get you pregnant." He confesses, "always imagined you as the mother of my children."

You know it ticks off some primal things for Marcus, it does for you too. You moan softly again and rock forward to kiss him. “I want that. At least two.” You pant into his mouth, imagining the two of you as new parents. Building the life you had daydreamed about when you were incredibly lonely.

“At least.” He agrees, knowing he won’t be able to keep his hands off of you when he gets you pregnant. “God, I love - I can’t not love you. Haven’t stopped since you left. No one was you. They were never you.” He confesses, helping you rock on his cock.

Your heart melts at that sentiment. Smiling against his lips as he continues to help you ride him. Slowly speeding up to where his cock hits perfectly inside you. Feeling him twitch every time he is seated deep as if he is ready to fill your womb with his seed.

"Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart? What do you need? Tell me what you need to soak my cock?" He asks, wanting to feel it, he needs to feel it.

“Just you baby.” You gasp, slapping your hands down in his chest and starting to rock faster. “Gonna cum baby, fuck, you feel so good.” You moan. “So full, fuck, you’re so thick, baby.” You always love how thick he is and how well he fills you up. “Love you, so fucking much.”

“That’s it. That’s it sweet girl. Fuck, that’s it. Cum for me.” He begs, sweat beading on his forehead as he watches you rock your hips a little faster. Those little whines and whimpers escaping your mouth tell him you’re close and he slides his hand down to rub your clit.

Your toes curl and you cry out, your orgasm slamming into you and making you lurch forward. Collapsing again this chest and chanting his name over and over as your body spasms.

Marcus groans at the way you clamp down on his cock and he moves fast to lay you on your back. Grabbing your thighs to lift them onto his waist so he can sink deep into your quivering cunt. He groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you as he gets close but he needs you to cum more time for him.

“Baby!” You squeal, feeling your body tense up as you ride out your orgasm. You would beg him to cum but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he has no intention of cumming until you do again. Marcus prides himself on making you cum multiple times. “Fuck baby.” Your nails scratch down his back and you tighten your thighs around him, closing your eyes and feeling your core start to tighten again as he rockets you to another orgasm.

Marcus pushes deeper, harder, the affection from before replaced with pure lust. Driven by the need to claim you, he thrusts into you over and over again. “Cum.” He chokes, needing to feel it and when you clamp down on his cock for the second time, he can’t help but paint your walls with his hot seed as he orgasms with you.

Moaning his name softly, you stroke his back as he groans. Enjoying the softness of his embrace as you both start to relax. “I love you.” You murmur quietly. “I can’t want to start our life together.”

Marcus presses his forehead to your chest, breathing you in, and he murmurs, "me too baby. I can't wait. Once you're safe, it's the two of us for the rest of our lives." He promises, kissing along your neck. "I love you."

After you’ve cleaned up and settled against Marcus, you fall asleep. Wondering when the shoe is going to drop and worrying that you might lose him again.

****

Marcus checks the time, knowing he should be calling you to touch base. He likes to call every hour or so to make sure everything is okay at home. He picks up his cell, dialing the burner phone he got you and he waits for it to ring. No answer. Weird. He doesn’t like that. He tries again. No answer.

At first, you thought Marcus was home, until there was no rap at the door. Abandoning the meal you were prepping, you grab your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you race up the stairs as quietly as you can. Reaching the second floor just as the door opens and the blare of the alarm sounds out, though it’s quickly silenced. The phone buzzes but all you can think is that you need to hide, as fast as possible and call Marcus. It’s seems as if you’ve been found.

When you finally answer the phone, Marcus can’t help but ask if you’re okay. Frantic when you answer and don’t actually speak. “Baby. Tell me. Tell me if you’re okay. Please. I -talk to me. Talk to me.” He begs, needing to hear that you’re okay.

Your mouth is dry and you can barely whisper. “Marcus.” You manage. “He’s here. Someone’s in the house.” You try to keep your voice as low as you can, terrified that you will give away your hiding spot under the bed.

Marcus’s blood runs cold when he hears your whisper and he fears for your life. He grabs his work landline, dialing his team to get people over to his house right away. He’s terrified for you. “Just hold on baby. Stay on the phone. I’ll be right there.” He promises, standing up from the desk so he can get home.

“Hurry.” You breathe out, turning the volume down and holding your breath as you hear the first signs of someone downstairs since the alarm went off.

Marcus shoves himself away from his desk, heart pounding as he rushes towards his car after telling his team about how he has to get to you. He can’t lose you again. His heart pounds and he speeds, his team following as he gets to his home in record time.

You never realize how loud you are when you breathe until you are trying to be completely silent. Scrunching back under the bed as far as you can go and slowly sliding the storage boxes in front of you so you are well hidden. Listening for the creak on the third stair that Marcus groans about having repaired.

Marcus has you on the phone, having switched lines for a mere moment

to get a team to his house within the next ten minutes. He speeds along the roads of D.C to his home, running through reds with no care except that it’s clear. “I’m coming baby.” He promises, “I’m coming.”

You can’t acknowledge him, too terrified to make a sound as you hear someone creep up the stairs. Your blood runs cold when you hear a voice say your name. “I’ve been looking for you. Come out and I’ll kill you quickly.” He taunts. “Make me find you….well, I’ve been in prison a loooooooong time because of you.”

Marcus drives faster, pulling into his neighborhood and he hears your scream. Slamming his brake, he puts the car in park, uncaring of his engine still running as he grabs his gun and rushes through the front door. He freezes when he comes across Roberta, his gun pressed against your forehead.

He had found you, screaming and fighting, he had dragged you out from under the bed with a curse and hopefully a bruised shin. Until he had pressed his gun against your forehead and ordered you downstairs. Feeling like you were going to die. Until the door opens and Marcus busts in. “Marc!”

Marcus’s finger is over the trigger. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Pike. I’ll blow her pretty head off. I want you to know that I’ve been watching. Listening. All those little promises of the future. Having kids. Getting married. It’s so sweet it’s sickening.” He coos sarcastically. “And now that future is gone.” He says and Marcus shakes his head, “you’ve served your time. You could walk away. Leave her alone.” He counters and Roberta growls, “no! She is the reason I served so long. She’s gonna die.” He promises, pushing the barrel into your head.

You squeeze your eyes shut and then you have to open them. Needing to see Marcus one last time. The idea that this man has been stalking the house, listening to your conversations and plans for the future, listening to you making love, is sickening. “I love you Marcus.” You promise him, watching his eyes slide from Roberta to you. “It’s always been you. Always.”

Marcus feels like he’s gonna be sick. “She hasn’t done anything. She’s been alone for so long. She has suffered enough. You both have.” He lies, “let her go and you won’t be arrested. You can walk free. Start again. I won’t come after you. Just let her go and you are a free man.”

You feel the tension rising in the room. Something is about to happen. Something that will end in the death of one of you. “If it weren’t for her, this bitch, I wouldn’t have gone to jail!” Roberta hisses and you know he won’t walk away. He won’t quit until you are dead. You remember one self defense move that had been taught to you by the Marshal’s office. Playing dead. “I’m sorry.” You tell him, watching his eyes slide from Marcus to you and you let your knees give out and drop to the ground.

Roberta isn’t quick enough and the gun goes off, embedding the bullet in the wall. The next thing you know, Marcus’s team are storming the house and they don’t waste time killing Roberta. His head jerks back as the bullet enters his head. The gun falls to the floor and Marcus is quick to grab it. Marcus pulls out the magazine and empties the chamber, the bullet rattling to the floor. The bullet that could’ve killed you. He reaches for you once Roberta is dead on the floor and he pulls you into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You’re shaking. Once the guns started firing, you flinched in anticipation of the killing shot and now you can’t stop shaking. “I- I- I don’t- I don’t know.” You admit truthfully, throwing your arms around him and starting to sob as the reality of what could have happened hits you.

His hands check you over, rubbing your body to see if you’re hurt and when he doesn’t see any damage, he’s pulling you back into his arms, kissing your forehead. The team wants you out, into the van and away so they can check Marcus’s home. “We are going to a safe house for a couple of nights. The team will check the house for any bugs or anything I didn’t pick up on. And clean it up for us.” Marcus explains once you are on the way.

“I didn’t go out.” You stress, almost desperate for him to believe you. “I didn’t call anyone and tell them where I was. No one.” You cling to him, unable to let him go as you try to calm yourself down. “I promise, I didn’t.”

Marcus shakes his head, “it’s not your fault baby. These people…they have ways of finding out where you are. It’s not your fault.” He promises, “he found you and now he’s dead. It’s over. You can reinstate your identity.” He tells you, “you can be you again.”

“I can be me.” You whisper softly, eyes wide when you realize that it’s truly over. After fifteen years, you are finally free. “Oh my God.” Happy tears fall down your cheek and you start to giggle.

Marcus grins, relieved for you and happy after knowing everything you’ve been through. “I love you so much.” He murmurs, caressing your cheeks, “you can see your parents. You can - you’re free.”

“Marry me.” You beg quietly. “As soon as I am legally myself, I want to be Mrs. Marcus Pike.”

Marcus’s eyes widen and he nods, “yes. Yes. God - baby - as soon as we are able to, I wanna marry you.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you softly, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

You smile, unable to believe that your life has taken such an incredible turn. Your future had been changed by a madman, forced into hiding and completely altering your path. Somehow brought back to Marcus by complete coincidence and now, you are able to take your life back and spend it with Marcus.

****

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The officiant declares and Marcus surges forward to kiss your lips, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks. The crowd cheers, made up of your parents, his parents, and the friends you have made together since Roberta was killed and the ones from college who were shocked to see you after you made your official appearance back in the world. It’s been a long journey, fifteen years in the making, but you and Marcus are finally where you were meant to be all along. Married and in love. Next thing on the agenda? Getting you pregnant.

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike imagine

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summerslashers · 9 months

Text

Beginning: Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: You meet Tommy for the very first time as his new neighbor. He takes an immediate liking to you. Part Two

Warnings: you may die of cuteness overload

Author’s Note: I decided to make another fic about meeting Tommy and I think I like this one better :) I hope you guys like it too.

You waited anxiously at the front door to the large house, holding a plate of freshly baked, warm cookies and a small bouquet of wildflowers that you found near your home. You were really hoping to make a good first impression with your new neighbors- your only neighbors by the look of it as there wasn’t anyone else around for miles. Just yesterday you moved to the small town in Texas, in a cozy one story ranch right across the street from where you stood. The house before you seemed to be the complete opposite of your little home, unlike anything you expected to find in a quaint town like this. It was practically a mansion, two stories tall with a huge yard and a long dirt driveway.

You heard loud heavy footsteps from behind the door and you took a small step back, hoping that you still looked presentable even after your short walk in the dry Texas heat.

In an instant, the door swung open and slammed loudly against the house, causing you to jump, looking up at the man in the doorway with gentle, yet slightly alarmed eyes. He was big- intimidatingly big. He was taller than anyone you had seen before and incredibly broad. He had longish, dark hair, a half masked face, and oh- the most soft blue eyes you had ever seen despite his furrowed brows.

“Hello,” you offered him a kind smile, your cheeks growing warm. “My name is y/n. I just moved in across the street and wanted to come over and introduce myself.”

The large man didn’t say anything, his fingers twitching anxiously at his sides as though he wasn’t sure what to do. He looked into your eyes for a moment and then glanced down at your hands, his head tilting curiously to the side ever so slightly.

“Oh-“ you remembered the large plate in your hands and smiled, understanding his silent inquiry. “I made cookies if you’d like them. There’s two different kinds. These ones are white chocolate and raspberry, and these are chocolate chip. I wasn’t sure which ones you might like so I decided to make both. I hope that’s okay-”

Thomas’ eyes softened as you spoke, and he couldn’t seem to ignore the warmth that settled in his chest and occasionally worked its way up to his cheeks. You were just too cute, and no one had ever been so kind to him before. Most people who met him would call him cruel names or give him dirty looks, but not you. Instead, you simply spoke to him and looked into his eyes with a certain fondness, smiling up at him so sweetly.

Once again, the man said nothing, and you wondered if perhaps he didn’t speak at all. He wasn’t ignoring you, that much you could tell. He looked into your eyes and listened as you spoke, not once making you feel as though you were bothering him, so you continued.

“Um- these are for you too-” You blushed and held out the neatly arranged bouquet of Texas bluebonnets and purple coneflowers, the stems tied neatly with white ribbon. Now that you were actually gifting them, you worried that it looked silly to be handing over wildflowers that practically grew everywhere. Tommy noticed the way you became even more shy, your hands shaking just slightly as you held out the flowers. He took them carefully, his calloused fingertips brushing gently against your fingers as he did so, making you blush even harder.

“I found them just outside my house and thought they were really pretty. I hope you like them.”

Thomas nodded his head and you smiled brightly. The bouquet looked so small in his large hand, but he held it so delicately, careful not to bend or crush the little flowers. He looked down to admire the purple petals and silky white ribbon for a moment, and then he looked back at you. Though the rest of his face remained expressionless, his eyes were gentle and kind.

Your cheeks grew warm and you felt butterflies in your stomach. He hadn’t even said anything- he didn’t need to say anything. You simply knew that you liked him, that you were captivated by the silent, strong man in front of you.

Suddenly, the man reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked to be a photo. You watched him curiously as he reached out, hesitating for just a moment before handing the photo to you. You accepted it gently, looking at it with a soft smile. It was a little baby with big eyes and dark hair, and some facial deformities around the mouth and nose. You looked up at the man whose hands were once again fidgeting anxiously at his sides.

“Is this you?” You asked him softly. He nodded and reached out for the photo, carefully flipping it over in your hand, and suddenly you realized why he was showing it to you. On the back it read in nice, feminine handwriting, “Thomas Brown Hewitt 1st Birthday”. He was telling you his name.

“Thomas,” you smiled at him, testing out the name. “You were a very cute baby.”

Thomas blushed, his cheeks growing hot and eyes widening. He liked the way you said his name- how you called him cute. He liked you… a lot. He watched you take one last look at the photo before returning it to him with a content smile.

“I wish I could stay, but I should be getting home soon.” You said apologetically. “I’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do. It’s been really nice meeting you, Thomas.”

You handed him the plate of cookies with a smile. “I hope I see you again soon.”

He nodded, the warm feeling never once leaving his chest, not even as you walked away from him and towards your house. Tommy wanted to see you again too- no- needed to see you again. He had only just met you but he already felt so drawn to you. You were kind and caring, and he longed to have you in his life- to see you smile again and listen to your voice as you spoke to him so sweetly. You were special to him. His ray of sunshine in a dark and dreary life. And he would wait as long as he needed to to see his sunshine again.

#Tommy hewitt #thomas hewitt #tommy hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #Tcm #thomas brown hewitt #thomas brown hewitt x reader

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delirious-donna · 4 months

Text

For You [Hanma Shuji]

an: Pure self-indulgence as I've been sick the past few days and I'll use any excuse to continue my soft Shuji agenda...

pairing: Hanma Shuji x female reader

warnings: fluff, self-ship coded, reader has longish hair with a similar texture to Shuji’s, fluff, bit of a sick fic I guess, domesticity, soft shuji, suggestive if you squint, did I mention the fluff?

He didn’t know what to do. That much was evident from the white noise tumbling inside his head and the empty stare that roamed your apartment. Everything was as it should be, and at the same time, nothing was right.

Shuji hadn’t heard a peep from you in almost two days, and that was unheard of before now. He appreciated that you were not overtly clingy. You didn’t need to know his exact whereabouts at any given moment of the day, but you checked in now and then, and for the first time in his life, he looked forward to those moments. So when you went radio silent except for one cursory message in reply to his attempt at humour that you were ghosting him, worry settled heavily.

The smell was apparent the second he let himself in with the spare key you had gifted him months ago. Until now, he hadn’t had reason to use it, but there was no way he would allow another day to pass without knowing what was going on. Sickness–sweet and sour–lingered in the nose, an unmistakable smell.

What he found huddled in a nest of twisted blankets tugged at a heart he had not long grown to realise existed. A mass of tangled hair obscured most of your sleeping face, though he doesn’t miss the scrunched expression etched across your features. Your skin that peeks from beneath your adorable kitty pyjamas was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body when he closed the distance in two quick strides.

You’re sick.

The rasp of your breathing indicated something was sitting on your chest, likely a bad cold or some infection, and he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. Turning, he raised his glasses atop his head to pass a weary palm down his face.

Cuts, scrapes and bruises are things he can deal with. He is well accustomed to peroxide on rags to clean wounds and disinfect any dirt that might linger inside split knuckles. A raw steak slapped over a swollen eye might be considered a bit of a health hazard these days, but he still swore that nothing reduced the swelling faster. Hell, Shuji was even a dab hand with a needle and thread. He had lost count with how many of his exclusively short list of friends he had patched up to avoid the inevitable hospital questions over the years. He had even sewn himself up from time to time.

Hell, he needed to act. Standing here doing nothing was beginning to sizzle his blood.

You woke from being jostled, the haze of your fever dream preventing the usual fight or flight instinct from kicking in. Craning your neck, you blinked and scrubbed at your eyes. There was no way you were looking up at your boyfriend. No way that he had you cradled in his arms in the most delicate hold you had ever experienced.

“Shuji?”

“Yeah, princess, it’s me. Need you to sit here f’me, alright?” He rasped, voice affected by some emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Cool porcelain met your backside, your body guided upright until you could manage your equilibrium. Hanma Shuji was here, in your apartment, in your bathroom. Rummaging through your medicine cabinet and looking for god knows what.

A bath. He could at least run you a warm bath and rid you of the smell of sweat and sickness from your pretty skin. Methodically, he worked to fill the tub and added a few splashes of some scented shit that smelled familiar from your cabinet. Shuji dutifully peeled the pyjamas and underwear from your body and threw them in the hamper with a mind to run a load for you if he remembered.

Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your twisted fever-induced dreams had shifted away from the nauseatingly vibrant images you had experienced only a few hours ago to this muted peaceful scene. It was a nice thought, but no, this was reality and not one you ever thought you’d experience.

A hand from behind your head came into view, a hand you knew immediately, not just by the stark black kanji inked against golden skin but the length of his slender fingers and the slight yellowish stain from the cigarettes he smoked. He handed you a soapy washcloth, which you gratefully accepted, wiping it across your body and sluffing off the grim that had caked you over the course of the last few days.

It was heaven, pure and simple, and when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Shuji surprised you once more. He gently tilted your head back, your eyes met his, and you smiled in adoration at the concentration evident on his face seconds before he began wetting your hair with the jug you kept on the edge of the bath.

“You don’t have to… Shu, I can take care of my hair once I’m better.”

Shuji clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment, but he held back from scolding you further for not trusting him with this small task. He washed his own damn hair, so washing yours wasn’t going to be some impossible task. His fingers worked in the suds of your shampoo into a thick lather, digging deep against your scalp and massaging firmly enough to elicit moans of bliss.

Normally such noises would make him hard, but right now it only raised a genuine smile. This was possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done for you. Never mind all those times he had rearranged your insides or made slow, passionate love to you. No, this was on a whole other level, and he liked it–more than he ever believed he would.

You must have dozed off whilst he shampooed and conditioned your hair because the next thing you were aware of was being lifted from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel that draped past your toes. Shuji returned you to your bedroom but paused in where to deposit you, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mess of sheets that most definitely needed to be washed and changed. Eventually, he planted your feet on the plush rug by the bottom of your bed, one which his knees were intimately familiar with and helped towel dry your body from head to foot.

“Put these on, baby. Imma strip your bed, do you have another set?” He asked with a kiss to your temple, handing you a clean set of yellow pyjamas with little ducks covering them from your dresser drawer.

Nodding sleepily, you pointed to the wicker storage box in the far corner before stepping into the pj pants and clumsily covering yourself with the top that bagged just enough that you could truthfully forgo the pants if you wanted.

You watched in amusement as the man known far and wide as both a talented photographer and sometimes enforcer for certain well-connected friends changed your bedding. His tall frame made it easy for him to manipulate the fitted sheet into place and wrangle a clean duvet cover on your kingsize duvet. This shitty task would have taken you nearly half an hour by yourself, but he managed in only ten.

“Need to dry my hair,” you yawned, leaning your face on his bicep and gratefully folding into his body when his arm snaked around your waist. He looked lost again, and you took pity on him. This kind of care was not his forte, but he didn’t know that all of this meant more to you than you could verbalise in your current state.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Take your time, alright?” With a final kiss to your forehead, he rounded the door of your bedroom and was gone from sight.

Shuji tried to sit still whilst the sound of your hairdryer filled his ears, but he was never one to sit idly by. He thought back on the times he had been sick as a kid with no one to really care for him and the things he would have wished for. In truth, a hot bath, clean clothes and a full stomach were all he ever wanted.

He was no cook, but he got by. A can of chicken soup caught his attention as he scanned your cupboards and set about warming it up on the stovetop. Your bread was still fresh, and he found butter in the fridge. He could do this. He could be the caring boyfriend when he wanted and though he had never felt inclined before, you were different.

You didn’t blow up his phone looking for sympathy or attention–no–you had tried to tough it out much like he had growing up, and it further sparked the flicker of kindred spirit that he felt about you. He wanted to protect you. There was no sense of obligation, and that made the difference. You were the first person he had loved outside of himself, and you reciprocated unconditionally.

You took the man he was, the boy he had been and loved every part of him, flaws and all. Shuji could do the same for you, and he vowed that the next time one of you fell sick, you’d be living together and there would be no need to guess that something was wrong.

So engrossed in sentimental thoughts that were still rather foreign to him, Shuji didn’t notice the hairdryer cut off nor the sound of your bare feet padding in search of him. It wasn’t until two small arms wound around his waist that he noticed or acknowledged your presence at all.

“What did I do to deserve you, Hanma Shuji?” You sobbed wetly into the shirt covering his back. Your emotions were overwhelming you, head still stuffy from whatever sickness had beat your ass the past few days, coupled with the domesticity of watching him cook for you. Tears streaked towards your cheeks, and you smushed your face deeper into him in an attempt to halt the flow.

He chuckled whilst continuing to stir the soup. “I know a lot of people that would say you must have been real bad in a past life to have ended up with me as a boyfriend.”

You sniffled and mustered every ounce of strength–barely anything–to smack him for that comment. “Shut up, you ass. Don’t spoil it.”

Shuji turned slowly. The amused expression softening in the face of your soppy, pathetic face that he couldn’t possibly adore any more, and he raised a hand to thumb away your tears. Enfolding you fully into his arms, he cooed softly against your freshly dried hair and smiled at the scent that was uniquely you had returned to your skin.

“I want you to know that I would do anything for you. Not only would I rip apart this entire fucking world if someone dared hurt you.” He enthused before his tone softened with a quiet exhale as if he were about to whisper some unspoken secret. “But I’ll also bathe you when you need the help, and I’ll feed you when you’re hungry. For you, there is nothing too much.”

#delirious writes #hanma x reader #shuji x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma fluff #shuji fluff #soft shuji

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harmshake · 4 months

Text

Hypnotic

Jimmy pulls you under his sensual spell with a simple count to ten...

Jimmy Uso x Fem Reader | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut | 1,914 words

a/n: Got inspired on a whim to write this thanks to @woahdude9481, 💞 you, bestie! Also, big shout out to @theninthwonder as their amazing fic, Wetter, was heavy inspiration. 🤭💦

Happy reading! Read my other Jimmy stories here, if you'd like. ✨

"Close your eyes, don't open them, and count to ten."

Jimmy's voice was usually teasing but now it was serious, soft, and melodical, a lullaby in your ears. You were already wrapped in his strong, warm arms, feeling so comfy you could fall asleep. But that's not what he wanted...and the countdown wasn't to count sheep.

"One," you said in a small voice as you felt Jimmy's lips press to your cheek. He held you to him as you both lay naked on your sides in his bed, and he rewarded you with another kiss when you followed his instructions.

"Two, three...f-four," you stuttered as you felt his kisses fall to that spot on your neck that made you tremble—as well as his hands as they fell to your thighs. His long, thick fingers caressed your soft skin a bit closely to the heat that yearned for him, throwing you off. "Five..."

"That's right, keep goin'," Jimmy whispered as his fingers inched ever closer to your humid heat, petting you with light touches across your mound. Your instinct was to open up for him, and you did, parting your thighs to make room for his touch and making him giggle. "Damn, you gettin' ahead of me, baby."

"I know where this is goin'," you giggled, too, before a little moan jumped out of you when his fingertips slipped where you expected them to…yet when he gave your clit a soft spank instead of a rub, your moan spiked with a gasp. “Mmmm, baby, what the he—”

“I ain't tell you to stop countin’, baby…” Jimmy reminded you as his tongue danced along your skin, first your chest and then your hard nipples as he circled each one before pulling them gently between his full, supple lips. He had you on your back now, his big, muscular body shifting on top of you as his fingers remained on your clit…with another spank when you moaned to him instead of saying the number six…

“Unhh, six…seven…” you whimpered from the pads of Jimmy's fingers stroking over your clit in soft swirls to soothe you, your body already jolting beneath him as that orgasmic swell stirred wherever he touched—his lips smudging sloppy, sweet kisses on your tummy and thighs and his middle fingers slipping from your clit to slowly slip inside you, his thumb picking up where they left off. “Mm-mmunhh, shit…eight…”

“Almost there, baby,” Jimmy whispered to your pussy with a cool breath that tingled on your silky, wet folds as he massaged them. You wanted to open your eyes to see your man about to feast on you because he always looked so sexy doing so, his pretty, pink lips suckling your clit and his longish beard dripping with your pleasure. But you did as you were told and kept your eyes shut for him, squeezing them as his fingers nudged up on your g-spot, as his thumb rubbed up on your clit, and as his kisses ran up your inner thighs that shook as you felt dangerously close to your orgasm…

“Nine…t—” your words choked off once more as you thought you'd finally feel his mouth on you but instead it was something plush like silicone, swiveling little licks along your clit with vibrations that yanked you into an orgasm so swiftly you screamed a raspy moan. Your eyes popped open for just a moment before your climax pulled you back, and in that moment you saw Jimmy on his stomach between your legs with his fingers pumping in you as his other hand held a small, red, rose-shaped toy to your clit. “Unhhh, baby, oh, my god,” you yelped as your head fell back onto the pillow. You arched your back without your control as your body spasmed, accidentally pushing yourself deeper onto Jimmy's fingers and your clit deeper into that lovely suction from the toy, and making yourself yelp louder for him.

“Why you stopped countin’, bae? I need to hear you finish…” Jimmy said sweetly like he wasn’t sweetly torturing you. You almost didn't hear him over your moans as you clutched at his sheets and thought to beg for mercy.

“Ten, mmm, ten!” you finally cried, your pussy fluttering with deep throbs as your orgasm tried to taper off but kept rolling over you as Jimmy didn't pull away.

“That's my girl…now keep goin',” he murmured to you. Your eyes batted open to see his handsome face holding a devilish smirk before you saw white instead as he added with a lick of his lips, “Ain’t I say count to twenty, right, bae? So keep countin'...”

“Wha-? Unhh, el-eleven…fffuck, Daddy.” Your body was writhing at this point, the lethal combo of his thick fingers stuffed in your gushy pussy and the rose buzzing along your sweet spot making you feel lightheaded with bliss. That bastard knew damn well he didn't say twenty, you thought in fragments, your mind trying to play catch up with him as you felt him shift again between your legs to get on his knees before you felt him replace his fingers with the thick tip of his dick.

“I said keep countin’, baby…you betta listen to Daddy,” Jimmy growled as he caressed your clit with little taps of the rose, similar to how he pushed himself into you with little thrusts to make room for his big, hard dick. Your hands twitched with grasps of the bedsheets as you thought to fling them at Jimmy and push him away, the luscious feel of him stretching and filling you with all that dick as your clit throbbed with more wave orgasmic tingles threatening to be too much…yet it was for that reason you let him in deeper…

“Twelve…thirteeeen,” you sobbed when Jimmy thrust over your g-spot, the head of his dick thrusting to the back of your pussy. Now your orgasm was unstoppable as you felt him everywhere.

His warm body hunched over you as he lifted your leg to drape over his shoulder, your other leg resting on his thigh. His big hand snaked around your throat to pin you down and hold himself up, his other hand still holding the rose to your poor, aching clit that gave way to delicate quivers that reached your soul. And his deep, beautiful voice washed over you with a kiss to your forehead, demanding with soft growls, “Tell Daddy what's next, baby. Keep goin' for me...you can do it.”

“Fourteen, oh, fuck!” you groaned as your body shuddered and your pussy fluttered yet again as he hit you with long strokes hugging up on every sensitive spot of your soaked walls.

“What, bae? I know you got another one in you. I need to feel it before you get to twenty,” Jimmy cooed. You were on your second orgasm on his thick dick that sped up now and made you cry to him as he tried to give you a third. He knew your body, knew what you could handle, and knew picking up the pace mid-orgasm to attack your g-spot with loving taps would make you cum harder…so hard you felt a rush, both in your head and your pussy as you squirted on his taut abs. “There she go…shit, bae. Look at you cummin’ like a good girl for me…” he added as your pleasure trickled down his body, your thighs, and to the sheets.

You felt out of your mind now, the only thing making sense was the warm, consuming vibes that stroked your clit as he stroked in you. Your eyes rolled as you felt him squeeze his fingers around your throat to bring you back to him, a hoarse moan that mimicked his name falling from your lips. “Count, bae. You gotta cum one more time for Daddy,” Jimmy grunted to you.

“Fifteen…sixteen…Daddy, I can't take it, mmm, I can't—” you whined as your intense pleasure lifted you off the bed, squirming for relief from it and yet squirming for more.

“Look at me, baby. Breathe.” His voice was commanding yet still held that sweetness as you blinked open your eyes to see him gazing at you. You panted for more air that he stole from your lungs with his thrusts and that damn, delicious rose—his eyes flickered down to it before up at your low lids again. “You can do it, baby. Just look at me…feel me…don't that feel nice?”

You suddenly felt his soft fingertips return to your clit, trailing up and down slowly, gently, to match the pace of his hips that also slowed down to catch your lingering contractions that pulled around his dick. It made him moan and you moaned, too, losing yourself in his gorgeous, coffee-brown eyes that held yours.

“Yes, Daddy…” you whimpered, feeling that knot in your stomach tighten yet your body relaxed as you sank back into the sheets with Jimmy's gaze and thrusts sinking into your spirit. You still felt dizzy with lust but now it comforted you, that overwhelming pleasure sweeping through you like a warm, velvety breeze.

“That's right, baby…just focus on me. Keep goin’ for me,” Jimmy encouraged you with a kiss on your lips as his braids fell around your face. You mumbled the next couple of numbers on his tongue, tears from your mesmeric euphoria dotting your eyes and sliding down your cheeks as you closed them in that moment to focus on his strokes, his mouth, and his tongue that tasted yours. When you opened them again, the euphoria painted on his face made you feel just as satiated as his thrusts, his caresses, and his voice as he moaned huskily, “So fuckin’ close. Don’t stop...cum, baby…cum on this dick.”

“Nineteen…twenty, unhhhh,” you cried as your orgasm had seized at nineteen but you were determined to finish…as was Jimmy. Your eyes locked together as he held your jaw to make you gaze at him, his hitched breath soothing across your face as he moaned with you. That's when you felt his hips stutter before they paused altogether to soak in your pulsing walls, but you knew from that seductive look on his face, and those sexy grunts, that he was pulsing in you, too.

You felt your eyes roll once more from the ardent bliss spilling over you, into you, yet Jimmy tightened his grip on your jaw as he moaned, “Watch me…feel us, baby…”

He sucked you right back into his spell, that hypnosis he had you under for the last hour wearing out your lungs as you cried with him and came with him. You wanted to wrap your arms around him but you were too weak, your pleasure overpowering you. Instead, you whined his name when he moaned yours as he grinded out a few more strokes into you before he slowly pulled out.

“My baby. You did so good. So good, baby…” You heard Jimmy’s voice in your ear as he kissed your cheeks and tears, crawling back to your side to hold you like you wanted to hold him. Your eyes fell shut again as the remainder of your strength gave into his cozy, adoring kisses as you shut your eyes, sleep on its way to hold you, too.

“Night, bae…dream of me,” he said with one more kiss on your lips that you surely felt in your dreams as you dozed off, silently counting the rising and falling of his broad, warm chest to your back as he breathed softly and cuddled you to bed.

Thanks for reading! 🧡

🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @tabletheofhead @weirdosandhopelessromantics @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @gomussy @theglamclosetsl @baeusos @2-muchsauce @empressdede @browngalmal @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @brwnsugababe @joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant

#jimmy uso #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso imagine #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso x fem reader #black writers #spilled ink

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

Note

miscommunication I LOVE IT SM ,

eddie and reader are best friends, he sees reader talking to gareth & gareth tells eddie he has a crush on someone , automatically eddie assumes its the reader so he feels hurt that gareth would “like her” but really shes helping gareth talk to her sister & eddie stops talking to them and kicks reader & gareth out of hellfire , hes angry for weeks so he blows off dates and movie days even when reader shows up to his house with flowers 5 times he still blows her off waynes upset at eddie too. , until theyre having a party eddie wasn’t invited to but dustin brought him , thats when he finds out everything cuz sees reader all by herself in the kitchen while gareth is with her sister , he thinks its gareth that made her sad but really it was him.

A few random notes!

I would like to personally thank everyone for being so patient with me. It's been a few months since I've written a longish fic so this may be incredibly rusty! I hope it's still worth reading.

To the anon who requested, if you even remember requesting this ( it's been a hot minute since you sent it in...) Thank you so much for being patient with this!! I hope you like it and it's what you wanted :)

Thank you to everyone who supports my work :)

I'm excited to finally get a fic out! I hope you guys like it <3

Never proofread

Y/N spent her time with two people, and usually those two people only. Her two best friends, Gareth and Eddie. The three were always together, but weren't afraid to be a part. Eddie and Gareth liked their guy time, where they talked about girls and the band. She enjoyed talking to Gareth about her huge crush on Eddie. And Gareth liked to talk to her about his crush, Y/N's sister. And her time alone with Eddie? Wasn't ever friendly. There were lingering gazes, cuddling, his hand on her thigh and her hand in his hair. He listened closely, always kissing her forehead when she cried. She could talk about anything with him. He never judged her, made everything she said feel important. And one thing she wasn't used to- he made her feel loved and made her emotions feel valid.

Her heart raced too fast for them to be friends. But Eddie wasn't easy to read, she had no idea if he was into her or just was a flirty friend.

Gareth wanted help with asking out Y/N's sister, Steph, which she jumped at the opportunity. Her brain needed a break from Eddie and her feelings for him.

Gareth first planned to go to Eddie but figured Eddie's too chicken to admit his feelings, how would he be any help? Plus it's Y/N's sister, she'll know every detail he needs to win over Steph.

Eddie wasn't quite sure what happened. Or how he was so blind. Gareth and Y/N started to get closer out of nowhere. Suddenly sitting side by side at lunch, whispering to each other. Shoving shoulders as they passed in the halls. Even during Eddie's alone time with Y/N, Gareth finds a way to be there. Did Eddie not see a sign? He never once saw Gareth as Y/N's type. And Y/N definitely wasn't Gareth's type. So what was going on?

But sadly all the pieces fit when Gareth admitted he had a crush.

"okay man, so I got this crush on this girl right? She's going to be at a party this weekend and I think I'm going to go for it" Gareth smiled.

Eddie felt his heart sink into his stomach. Gareth had a crush, and it was obvious who the crush was on.

"what party?" Eddie wondered, he wasn't invited to any party.

"some popular chick, no idea what her name is. But Y/N invited me" Eddie has never once wanted to punch his best friend across the face, but the smug smile on Gareth's lips was way too tempting.

Y/N invited Gareth, to a party. Not a single word mentioned to Eddie. A party that was this weekend, five days away and she hasn't said a word. But asked Gareth?

His two best friends liked each other

Eddie was acting weird. It was the middle of the week and Y/N has barely seen him. He stopped coming to lunch, he never opened his front door when she pounded on it for hours, and he won't answer her calls.

She wasn't sure what happened but tonight was hellfire and she planned to get answers.

Y/N and Gareth headed to hellfire earlier than the rest, knowing Eddie would be setting up. They wanted to get him alone to ask why he was avoiding both of them.

"Hey Eds?" She said softly, walking further in the room, eyes catching that there were two chairs missing.

"wait, who's not coming?" Gareth questioned

"You two are out. " Eddie said flat, not bothering to look at them as he dug out his notebook

"OUT?" Gareth yelped out

"wait why? Tonight is too important for us to be out" Y/N aruged

"I want you guys out of my club" Eddie said, eyes finally looking at his two "best friends"

He knew he was being an idiot. Taking his feelings out on them. Not giving either a chance to explain themselves. He also knows he hasn't given Y/N the time of the day or night.

He kept trying to shrug off Wayne's disapproving look when Eddie refused to open the door. Y/N screaming his name on the other side. One night Wayne came in with flowers and a note for Eddie. Eddie knew exactly who they were from. It was the same flowers he got every year, for their friendiversary. Something Y/N always demanded they celebrated together. He remembers the angry look in Wayne's eyes as he threw the flower right back outside.

"It is not just your club!" Y/N's sharp tone snapped Eddie out of his thoughts. Blinking slowly as he looked at both of them.

"yeah. We've been in this club together since the beginning of high school. We have just as much importance to our club as you do" Gareth stood his ground.

"I'm the leader, you two are just like the rest of the sheep. My word goes" Eddie fought back, crossing his arms as he puffed out his chest. Trying to ignore the sad look that came across Y/N's face.

"You know what? Fine" Y/N snapped, slamming the door behind her as she marched out.

"dude! What's your fucking problem?" Gareth snapped. The coldness Eddie has been giving them was uncalled for.

"I don't have a fucking problem. Go follow your little girlfriend and get the fuck out" Eddie snapped, turning around to pretend to look for something. Not looking as the door slammed again.

Saturday arrived

Gareth was in his room, searching for his best clothes.

Y/N covered her lips in Eddie's favorite red gloss.

And Eddie found himself in his bedroom, strumming his guitar. He hasn't talked to either of his friends since the big blowout. Thursday and Friday passed with glares and silence. A lonely Friday night in his room, a night that was usually filled with giggles and weed when Y/N slept over every single weekend. But once again, Eddie refused to open the door.

His two friends were going on a date to a big party and Eddie was going to spend his Saturday night driving Dustin to whatever friends house and going back home to smoke alone.

"and it's that house!" Dustin pointed out, excitedly bouncing in his seat as Eddie pulled up.

"Dustin, this is a huge party! How did you get invited?" Eddie scoffed. Even a fucking freshmen was getting invited to parties. Is this the one Gareth and Y/N were at? Eddie felt his stomach turn thinking of them dancing on the inside.

"a family friend. Come in?" Dustin asked, shutting the door before Eddie could even answer.

Eddie wasn't sure why, but he followed.

"you got this! She likes you. Be yourself, good luck" Y/N squealed, shoving Gareth ahead. A proud smile on her face.

She watched from across the room, a full drink in her hand. Smiling as she watched Gareth walk up to her sister. Barely one word in and the two were smiling like idiots. It made her think of Eddie. She missed him.

She watched them hug, smile slowly falling. She missed Eddie's hugs. She missed his smell and how warm he was.

Then they giggled. She missed laughing with Eddie. Getting high in his bedroom. She looked at Eddie like he held the stars and now she can't even look at him without needing to cry.

And once she saw them kiss, that's when the tears fell.

He doesn't know how but his eyes found her in seconds. She stood alone, holding a cup. Eddie could tell she was sad. Her body language was slouched and small.

He may have been pissed at her, but he'd always care.

"aren't you supposed to be having fun at parties?" He chuckled, sliding right next to her, not bothering to see what she was watching so closely.

"aren't you supposed to be ignoring me?" she snapped. Her eyes not leaving Gareth. If she looked at Eddie, she'd break down.

"that's fair" he swallowed. He's been an ass, he can't expect a joke to make things better.

Eddie finally looked to where she was staring, his eyes going hard when he saw Gareth kissing another girl

Wait! ......that wasn't just a girl

That was Y/N's sister

"I'm gonna kill him" Eddie snapped, planning to march forward when Y/N grabbed his hand

"hey. What? Why?" Y/N panicked

"HE'S CHEATING!" Eddie yelled, looking at her like she grew two heads. But not releasing her hand.

"what! No he's not" Y/N slightly chuckled. Feeling her tears starting to dry. Just feeling his skin made everything feel better.

"then why are you crying?" Eddie asked

"I'm not" she quickly lied. Dropping his hand to clear off her face quickly

"yes you were. You were looking at him and crying. You like him right? And he's kissing your sister" Eddie explained

"I do NOT like him" Y/N laughed, that was just ridiculous

"what? You guys have been sneaking off and always together" Eddie tried to explain. How was he seeing this situation wrong?

"he wanted to ask out my sister, I was helping" She explained, a small smile on her face as his puppy eyes looked confused.

"your sister? Crush? Not you?" Eddie blabbed out. He couldn't lie, he felt his body fill with relief. He tried not to think about what they did when he wasn't around but asking out Steph was nowhere near his radar.

"no? Why would he like me?" Y/N scoffed. A boy hasn't liked her since forever. Not that she cared. She just wanted the confusion boy across from her to like her.

"because it's you!" Eddie explained like it was common knowledge.

Y/N felt her face warm but tried not to get her hopes up.

"Can we talk? Somewhere quiet? Or are we still ignoring each other?" She asked, shyly looking at him. Eddie hated the small sad smile on her face. All Eddie had to do was talk to his best friends and all his unnecessary drama could have been avoided.

"yeah. I have my van" Eddie offered an encouraging smile, grabbing her hand again and leading her out to the front yard.

"what happened?" Y/N spoke first, breaking the silence.

"I thought you and Gareth liked each other and I got upset" Eddie sighed, hearing himself admit it made him feel dumb.

"Eds, even if we did, we wouldn't stop hanging out with you. We'll always be best friends" Y/N explained, holding Eddie's hand softly.

"that's not what made me upset, baby" Eddie admitted, refusing to make eye contact.

"then what? Got a crush on Gareth or something?" She joked, laughing to herself.

"he's not the one I have a crush on" Eddie confessed, he could feel his palms getting sweaty. The hand she was holding was shaking slightly. Her thumb rubbed his hand softly.

"oh"

Eddie deflated at her response. Of course she wasn't interested. He was dumb for being upset and he was dumb for liking her

"I'm sorry. I know we are friends and that's all we will be" Eddie followed after. A fake smile on his face as he looked at her. Ignoring that his heart raced. He noticed her lips covered in his favorite gloss. He wanted to taste her.

"that's not true. That's not all we can be" she said, leaning a little closer. " Gareth isn't the one I have a crush on either" She winked, a small smile on her face.

Eddie blinked at her blankly. Was she saying she liked him?

"...you like me?" Eddie squeaked out

"yes I do. But I like you a little bit less after the way you treated me and Gareth" she teased lightly, but still meaning her words

"yeah, I'm sorry. That was just a dick move. You guys didn't deserve that"

"We didn't. Ignoring us? Kicking us out of hellfire? You have a lot of ass kissing to do" this time she wasn't teasing. And he could tell.

"I know. I fucked up and I'll earn my forgiveness from the both of you" Eddie promised

"why didn't you accept the flowers?" Her thumb stopped moving on his hand. Her eyes looked away from his as she felt her throat burn. The same horrible feeling in her stomach when she saw her flowers crumpled up in his front yard

"that was very uncalled for and I'm incredibly sorry for acting like that. I was being pathetic and taking everything out on you and I shouldn't have. The flowers were beautiful. Wayne totally chewed out my ass for the past week" Eddie admitted. He was embarrassed of how he acted. Truthfully, the next night when it began to storm, he raced out and collected the flowers. The flowers now sat on his bedside table.

"I'm glad he did. Your ass deserved it. Gareth's been waiting also" She laughed, using her free hand to poke his side.

"I think he'll be a little too busy for that" Eddie joked, throwing a wink.

"but on a serious note, Gareth deserves an apology too. We also deserve our spots in hellfire. And we deserve respect for our roles in it. And you have to plan a celebration of our anniversary"

"done, done, done and definitely done" Eddie said, checking off imaginary boxes

"you do understand that you hurt my feelings, right? That you have to make up for that? You need to make it up to me as a friend before we ever try to be anything more" Y/N explained

"I understand and I agree. I want to make it up to you, and Gareth. I'm going to make it up to you, I promise. Then I'm gonna sweep you off of your feet" Eddie smirked, a horrible wink sent her way that caused her to giggle

"be ready to put in the time and work, won't be easy Munson" she smirked back, leaning to kiss his cheek.

"I've got all the time in the world, baby" he smiled, loving that his favorite gloss now covered his cheek

He can make it up to Gareth later, right now his focus was on her.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie Munson miscommunication fic #ashwhowrites

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gingerlurk · 2 months

Text

Honey

Din Djarin x f!Reader

A Lovers' Crest one-shot (Here's its Masterlist)

Summary: You and the Mandalorian hatch a plan to trap an elusive bounty. And Din Djarin absolutely hates it. Until he doesn't.

[Or, the characters from Lovers' Crest have a little post-story adventure! Can be read standalone.]

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pwp, unprotected piv (be safe), creampie, semi-public sex, (there's an unconscious guy in the room), established relationship, Din lifts you but damn he is a strong strong man, Reader described: wearing a dress, heels, having longish hair, does a lil pole dance. I know this isn't how a 'honey pot' situation works but oh well it's just a bit of fun.

A/N: What's this? It's the first fic I ever wrote. Posted to AO3 in June last year. No idea if it's anything anymore, but it dragged me out of a desperate writing slump - and led me to write the longer fic - so I will always feel affection for it.

‘No.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘I said no!’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t like it. It’s not a good idea.’

‘It’s a great idea. And… all we’ve got.’

So, Din Djarin sits in an upscale-style club sharing a table with Mythrol mobster Earl Gorstrik.

The crime boss has been an elusive target for months, and a royal headache for Greef Karga. Taking out shipments of essentials, extorting construction projects and all manner of agency rackets, Gorstrik’s activities had pushed poor old Greef into upping the reward to nearly double.

‘Just get this fucker out of my business, please,’ Greef had begged him last time they’d dropped into town.

Then you had proposed an idea that had set his blood to boil, a constant roll that continued to this very moment. He’d remained unconvinced by the whole plan, but especially by your assertion that you would be sure to ‘really make it worth his while’. Din is dubious.

He doesn’t even get to have Grogu for company. This is not a child-friendly mission.

Gorstrik is yammering in his ear.

‘Seriously, Mando,’ he slurs. ‘I’m so glad a man of your calibre recognises the value of partnering with my… endeavours…’

Din is barely taking it in. Why are these types always so verbose? He mutters something about ‘needing to expand prospects’ and that sets the mob boss off to wax lyrical about property scams.

Din swears he’s going to ditch this whole, terrible attempt, when the music pounding in every corner of the place transitions to one of heavy bass and soaring synths.

Earl Gorstrik slaps at Din’s shoulder. ‘Oh excellent! It’s starting. Ever been to one of these Mando? No, bet not. Haha! Sit back and enjoy!’

Lights dance on the raised catwalk that dominates the middle of the room. Long, shiny polls descend from above, dropping within arm’s reach of the stage. A tall, lovely twi’lek female struts into view. Skin-tight body suit and stratospheric pumps. She reaches up to a poll and spins, smiling at the whooping and hollering rising from the patronage.

A short, sultry routine ends as the poll she holds rises back toward the ceiling. Din follows it, and her, up to spy the lofted gang plank that vanishes into an upper area.

Gorstrik leans into Din’s space.

‘You like that?’ he breathes. ‘Best part? If you spot someone you really like, you can arrange your own little meeting. Heh, up there,’ he points to the disappearing legs of the performer. ‘Just wave down a tender.’

Two human males saunter to neighbouring polls. They look to be twins. A stunning display of athleticism and strength concludes as they too rise upwards. Din spots several hands frantically waving at the establishment’s staff.

Fed up, Din is about to take his leave – to go find you – when a vision walks onto the stage and sucks all the air from his lungs. He’s locked rigid in his seat and his cock swells so fast it’s almost painful.

An adept lighting droid starts with revealing a pair of black, luxurious stilettos that step with languid grace down the catwalk. Silhouetted legs are shown to be bare as they curve up, all the way up – impossibly far – to the hem of a scant black dress. Deliciously tight and hugging every single curve.

Reaching the pole at the very end of the stage, the vision twists to face away from the crowd and is lit up all at once. The Mandalorian’s eyes are wide and his mouth has fallen open behind his helmet, made utterly transfixed by what he’s seeing onstage.

Glossy hair cascades over bare shoulders, swishing gently as you turn back to the crowd with a flourish. Your glittering eyes lock onto Din’s visor for a split second and he fair nearly blows his load then and there.

You take hold of the pole and give a single lazy spin, letting Din’s eyes roam every inch of you. Then you slide down the pole some and spin again, extending your legs so the sides of your knees and shins skim the flooring.

A few of these rotations before you tuck your long legs under you to stand for a moment. You make one swaying motion to put momentum into the pole and swing yourself up, using a turn away from the audience to open your legs, kick up and cross them to lock over the pole.

With your lush thighs riding the cool metal, you lean back and extend an arm out to the audience, gazing upside down into the pulsing darkness.

You let the pole drift back to stillness, allowing every set of eyes in the place drink in your figure, bust heaving, hair falling below you and swaying. Then you swing your upper body upwards, grasp the pole and drop your hips so your legs release out into open air and propel it all into a renewed twist.

After a moment, you plant your heels and the pole lowers with you as you sink into a narrow squat, facing away from the audience, which is by this time splitting the air with pitched screams and shouts.

You look over your shoulder with mischief in your eyes and the whole place goes ballistic.

The pole begins to rise and you move with it to stand. You let it slip along your figure, waiting until it is moving past your head to slide your arms around it and lift from the floor. It is given to look as if you’re floating on air, still twirling and giving an exquisite 360 view of your legs.

As you vanish into the loft, Din’s reverie is interrupted by a waving hand next to him.

He turns, Gorstrik is beside himself. A frenzy of other hands bat at the air, but Din’s table companion always gets first flush.

‘God damn,’ he exerts. ‘What a show. You do not get enough of that type of cream around here anymore.’

Din fights to quell the incredible urge to rip this pig’s head clean off his shoulders. He channels it all into issuing the slightest shrug he can manage. Gorstrik scoffs.

‘Suit yourself, man,’ he stands. ‘I’m getting my ass a front row seat to the encore. M’sorry, Mando you understand. Particulars can be worked out with my second here.’ He gives a vague wave to the pinch-faced twit next to him and scurries toward the elevator.

Din seethes.

Your voice crackles in his helmet, whisper quiet.

‘Staff access is on the residential side, basic hatch code to get in. Stairs, then make a left. My booth is second along.’

He makes a grouchy show of ‘only doing business with the actual boss’ before leaving the irate lieutenant at the table.

He stalks onto the street and rounds the building to the alleyway that connects the red-light district to the high-density worker housing. Spotting the door you described, he makes short work and slips inside. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he’s trying to concentrate and stop his mind wandering to all the ways this could go wrong.

Could be going wrong.

Why has he let you be alone with this scumbag. That was incredible. What if you’re not quick enough. Hells, fuck! Where had you learned that? What if… So fucking sexy. Why didn’t he just… Maker but that was incredible. He follows your directions and slaps the booth’s open panel.

The door slides across to reveal the scene. A small, velvet-lined room. One long bench against the far wall with a floor to ceiling one-way window looking out over the club floor. Your back is to the door and you’re settled in that narrow squat again, heels spiked into the floor, nimbly cuffing the unconscious Gorstrik, who is sprawled out by a drinks stand.

‘Just in time,’ you say. You peak over your shoulder at Din and slowly, agonisingly, start to rise up. Knees straighten first, keeping yourself bent at the waist. Ass on full display, the hem of your dress has ridden up to show just a hint of cheek. Finally, you lift your torso and turn toward him, something droll to say on the tip of your tongue.

You don’t get the chance. Din has kicked the door hatch closed and barrelled into you. Hands grip your waist first, pushing you back into the wall, then reach down to lift your knees to lock them at his sides. Holding you up, he paws at your ass.

‘Where’d you get this dress,’ he growls into your ear, letting you loop your arms across his shoulders and use the purchase to grind yourself against his erection.

‘Boutique in the main square,’ you mutter, eyes already closed and focused on lust. ‘Only used some of the advance.’

‘It’s obscene.’

‘Mmm, I don’t have to keep it.’ You rub the front of the dress against his chest plate, pushing your breasts into the firm pressure. ‘Could turn it to scrap for engine cleaning,’ you tease.

‘Absolutely not,’ he grinds out. He rubs at your thighs until the dress inches up, exposing your soaking panties. ‘This dress,’ he grunts. ‘This dress is for me now. You’ll wear it for me.’

‘Fuh—Fuck,’ you huff. ‘Thought you’d like it.’

‘Mmm, so fucking divine,’ he keens. He leans back a little. ‘Help me out here, love. Get this cock out for me.’

You reach a hand down and fumble with buckles and garment until you can push his pants low enough for his screaming hard on to bounce free. You immediately move your hand and tug the edge of your underwear aside.

‘Now Din,’ you moan, looking down. ‘Fuck me n— ah!’ He sheaths himself home in one go, piercing you to the wall.

Hips sitting flush, Din trembles at your tight walls stretching and fluttering around him. He lets you adjust. ‘Oh fuck, so ready for me. That performance of yours get you just as worked up as me, did it?’

Humming an affirmative, you reach up to brace your elbows on top of each pauldron, locking your hands together behind his helmet and nuzzling your face into his neck. Like this, you can tilt your hips back and forth to grind into where you two are connected, his pelvis making a perfect surface to work at your aching clit.

It’s so goddamn sensual when you use him like this.

He holds onto your ass and helps you along by lifting you up with each one of your thrusts, creating a harsher connection each time. You writhe and work yourself against him, legs shaking with effort.

‘Din, Din,’ you lift your head with a gasp. He watches your eyes screw shut and your mouth fall open to release harsh, pained puffs of air. You’re so close, he can see it. You press your face into the sharp curve of his helmet and whisper, ‘Din, tell me t--’

‘Come for me, mesh’la,’ he snarls into your ear. ‘Do it, come now.’

You cry out and smack your head back against the wall. Din loses himself in your blissed out features. In the feel of your legs spasming around him, tightening muscles drawing aching throbs out of his cock. You push your hips in tiny little circles to suck down every drop of your climax. ‘That’s it, beautiful. That’s perfect,’ he murmurs to you. ‘You’re perfect.’

Huffing harsh breaths, you open your eyes and smile at him.

He pulls out of you and takes your quivering legs from around his middle, dropping them to plant your heels on the floor. Then he pushes off the wall, spinning you to face the bench and bending you over. A heavy boot nudges at your ankles to spread them apart. He’s back inside you in one intense thrust of his cock.

This position affords you the view through the one-way window, so you’re both looking down at the bustling bar floor.

Din begins to move, barely letting any room between your bodies as he grinds hard and deep. You shuffle your feet wider to give him even more. He chokes out a groan.

‘When you were on that stage,’ he hisses from behind, hands in a bruising grip on your hips. ‘Fuck, when you were up there, everyone down there wanted you.’ He sees your head turn to roam over the crowd, you look over your shoulder again at him, eyes unfocused and lustful.

‘Oh yeah?’ you say, hands sliding a little on the bench with your movements. ‘All of them?’

‘Every. Single. One.’ He punctuates each strangled word with a harsh, deep thrust. ‘Wishing they were here now. Wishing they could have you like this, know the feel of your clenching pussy. Sucking me in so hard, can- can barely pull myself- out…’

He grips a fistful of your dress and uses the leverage to drag himself back before pistoning into you again. The obscene sounds of your slick flesh pumping against each other fill the air.

He’s so deep he can feel the pressure building within you again right as you slam your fingers hard against your clit, letting the friction of his furious thrusts carry you over the edge into another orgasm.

‘Fuuuuck,’ you both groan in unison. He loops an arm across your front and slings you up, back flush to his chest as he drives up into you. His rhythm is starting to falter, the haze of pleasure reaching toward unbearable. You know what he needs and how to bring him over the edge with you. He trusts.

‘But none of them can have me,’ you gasp. ‘Only you. Only you- know- this- pussy, Din.’ The final words are accompanied by the last few slams of his hips as he spills inside you with another strangled moan. He feels, as always, like his soul is being sucked from him and drained into you. It goes on for an age, wave on wave as you squeeze and clench around him. He finally slows.

His hand moves from your chest up to cup your face, fingers sifting through the hair at your shoulder.

As he huffs deep breaths into his helmet, you squeeze again and he gasps in near pain.

‘N-n, please mesh’la, you’re gonna kill me.’

‘Mm, sorry, thought you liked “the feel of my clenching pussy”.’

‘Oh I do, I do. Hope you let me feel it again when we’ve actually finished this job.’

‘Admit it was a great idea,’ you clench one last time and at that he withdraws from you. Groaning a raspy sigh. He turns to your captured prize.

‘Honey pot,’ he mutters. ‘Ridiculous.’

Din tucks himself away and bends to hoist the limp quarry over a shoulder, readying to exit.

You adjust your dress, feeling delicious as Din’s seed slides past the hem. A job well executed and a fucking great time had by all. You grin to yourself. You’re going to walk down the street with this man’s spend slicking your thighs together. It’s filthy and you love it.

Thanks for reading! Have a great day and drink some water x

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

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dippindaz · 2 years

Note

LOVE your grabber fics!! Could we pls get one of reader (adult obvi) being a victim and end up attracted to him and smut ensues 👀

A/N: I have been WAITING for this request. Let’s be honest anyone reading this rn, this is literally you. Like all of us who Dino for grabber, this request is the embodiment of us. Thank you for the request you beautiful person ❤️ also you didn’t specify a gender, I went female for reader, I hope that’s ok. I’m not crazy proud of this one, but I don’t dislike it. I haven’t written smut in a long time, I’m sorry if it’s weird or awkward in some way hahahah, I tried though.

Unedited

Warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, smut, kidnapping, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, Stockholm syndrome, belt whipping, it’s pretty basic from here,

You hadn’t been here long, maybe a few days? A week at the most according to your math. Your 20th birthday had just passed. This was the worst birthday you’d ever gotten. You’d only seen the man who kidnapped you a few times now. It was pretty much just to give you food and water.

You’ve also come to find you kind of pissed him off a lot more than you kept him happy. Whenever he first entered the basement his voice was playful, non-threatening. You weren’t sure if it was an edge to your voice or if you were more sarcastic than you thought, but his voice would always drop to this low, husky, aggressive tone.

Whenever you heard that voice, there was a little twinge in your stomach. You just chalked it up to fear, but it felt a little different. Something was odd about it. What was it? You couldn’t properly place. It wasn’t pure anger, it wasn’t purely fear, it wasn’t sadness, so what was it?

It might’ve been morning. Or night. You couldn’t tell at this point, but the door directly across from you clicked open. There was the familiar silhouette of the man who’d kidnapped you, tray in hand, longish hair, the only difference? You couldn’t see the horns that were attached to his mask.

He walked closer to the mattress and you realized, he wasn’t wearing the top half of his mask. His eyes were piercing, yet had a sort of kindness to them. You just barely see the bridge of his nose and the way his hair framed his face, damn. He was kind of.... handsome? NO. No no no, absolutely not. Besides, he still that smiling bottom half of his mask, you can’t judge someone’s look without seeing their full face.

He stopped just before reaching the mattress and set down a tray of food for you. Nothing different from the usual.

He looked at you expectantly and you just eyed him, suspicious. When didn’t make a move for the food he sighed heavily and shook his head. “Why must you been such a pain? Starve, if you wish, little dove. It won’t help your chances of leaving.” He chuckled at the end of his statement, as though the concept itself was ridiculous.

You simply glared at him, unwilling to move or speak. He stood there for a few seconds before shrugging and turning to leave.

Something different happened this time. You picked up on it instantly, the door hadn’t been latched. He finally slipped up. Finally you had a chance to escape.

You gave a few minutes before even touching the door, to be sure he was gone by the time you tried to open it.

You tip toed to the door and as quietly as you could, pulled it open. You peeled through the crack of the door. Nothing. No sounds, no figures. Everything was still.

You quietly walked the up the stairs. Careful to not make a sound. As you got closer and closer to the top of the stairs you peaked around the corner of the hallway. The sight was like nothing else you’d seen.

The man you kidnapped was there sitting on a chair, shirtless, belt in hand, and his whole mask covering his face.

Something shifted in your stomach. You hadn’t even realized how long you sat there for, yet he had no reaction. You watched the rise and fall of his glorious chest.

Once realizing the scene you were staring at you quickly pulled your head behind the wall and slapped your hand over your mouth. Eyes wide, and breathing heavy you stood there, unsure of what to do. He looked awake, yet had no reaction to you being there. He must’ve been asleep right? Yeah, had to be. You almost wished he were awake.

What would he have done to you if he were? It was pretty self explanatory, but it also wasn’t. Would he punish you for being upstairs, or would have killed you then there? Beat to death by belt, what a strange way to go.

If he punished you... what all would he have done? It was quite the provocative way to look when you’re for your victim to walk upstairs, wasn’t it?

You pulled your hand away from your mouth. Slowly, your head poked out from behind the wall. Your brain was able to properly register it this time. You stayed there, staring at every part of the man before you. Mask, hair, arms, belt, and that bulky chest. You shakily sighed and rested your hand on your chest, above your heart. It wouldn’t stop pounding.

No. There was no fucking way you attracted to a kidnapper, a murder. Here you were though, shamelessly staring at every inch of exposed skin you could see. Staring at the belt in his hand. Here you were catching yourself, wishing for him to wake up and punish you. You hadn’t really noticed yourself walk out from behind the wall, and into the kitchen.

You leaned against the wall next to you, and stared. You couldn’t the wondering of your mind. The stories it created and the deep dark fantasies it created. You hadn’t even noticed when his hand twitched.

The man swiftly stood from his seat, without thinking he whipped the belt at you. In an instant you had turned around and slightly bent over clutching your head, it was instinct after all. However, that instinct, caused his aim to be just off. So much so that instead of hitting your back, the belt whipped your ass.

The sound you made nothing short of ungodly. He froze. No one had ever made a sound like that before. You more turned on than anything.

“Pl-please, do it again...” you whispered. You couldn’t even think about what you were saying. You felt like you were going to vomit. Disgusted by your own words.

He said nothing, only laughed, before whipping your ass again with his belt. This had more power, a lot more. You fell onto the counter beside you, using it to support yourself.

You let out a shakey breath, hearing the sound of his feet coming closer. He stopped right behind you. He places his hands on your hips and pulled you to the left, centering you with the counter.

You leaned farther onto the counter, giving your shakey knees a small break. He dragged his hands from your hips to your butt. He stood there for a moment, head tilted as he caressed you.

“My, I knew you were interesting, but this is...” he paused, unable to describe how shocking this truly was. “This is much better.”

His hands then trailed from your butt up to your shirt. Grabbing the hem of your shirt he dragged it with his hands. Pulling your shirt off, he grabbed one of your bra straps and snapped it.

Clicking his tongue, he took on a disappointed tone. “This really is no good.” His voice was soft, he sounded as though he were contemplating.

“You know, little dove, your seductress game may work tonight, but I’ll still have to punish you for being naughty.” Teasing, turned on, excited? All three at once? You couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Not to you, not to him. Not right now.

“Please punish me.” You could barely whisper it. You felt so much shame.

He laughed. Loud and even proud. Had he already broken you? What a delightful surprise. “Hm, I don’t know... is it much of a punishment of your asking for it?”

You bit your lip and your nails attempted to dig into the counters. “Please, please, just do it. Punish me for being bad, I haven’t been well behaved, I need a reminder to be a good girl. Please!” Your foot lightly stomped at the end of your begging fest.

He released a heavy sigh. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I not give you what you want?”

You only whined in response, not that he was even asking. You carefully listened as he slowly backed up. You could hear the jangle of the belt buckle begin moved around, but you couldn’t tell what was happening.

You moved your head to look over your shoulder and right as you did you hear the crack of the belt and then an unforgiving sting, across your ass cheek. You yelped and jumped.

“Be a doll,” his voice has a sudden change in tone. It was deep and raspy, “and count.”

Trembling your head turned away and you began counting. “1”

Another crack followed by the same stinging and burning. “2”

By the fourth hit his pace began to go speed up. Somehow instead of his arm getting more tired of just seemed to have more power to it.

“6” Tears stung your eyes but you refused to cry.

“9” Every single centimeter of your ass was stinging.

Even after number 10, he wasn’t satisfied. You put on such a show, what a shame it would be to stop here. Something needed to change though.

He set the belt on the counter beside you and grabbed the hem of your pants. Before pulling them he hesitating, he didn’t think much just watched your body language. You only held still. He took it as the go ahead, so, in one swoop he aggressively pulled your pants down.

Gently, he guided your feet through the leg holes in your pants and then threw them to the side. Slowly, his hands trailed up your legs and he slowly stood back up as they moved. Stopping the hem of your panties, he simply admired the sight before him.

A small bit of red, most of it covered by the fabric of your underwear. He gently pulled down your panties and let them drop to the floor. Now he could really admire his work. But it wasn’t enough. It was wasn’t dark enough, he wanted to leave marks to remind you for weeks, who you listened to. Who you belonged to.

He grabbed his belt and resumed whipping you. All the while you counted, like a good girl. By the time you reached 15 strikes, you were sniffling with slow tears rolling down your cheeks. Your butt was now a bright red, certain spots darker than others. Spots he purposely hit often.

When he heard your sniffling he stopped and began to run your back. “You asked for this.” He reminded you. “Even if you hadn’t, you were still a bad girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled, you weren’t sure what you apologizing for. “I promise I won’t misbehave again.” Your voice broke and a few more tears trickled down your face.

“I suppose that’ll do for now. If you’re bad again,” midway through his statement his voice dropped, “expect your punishment to be far worse.”

You nodded your head, acknowledging his ‘terms’ and rubbed your thighs together. It had been bugging you the whole time, even as you began to cry. The wetness and heat between your legs had grown with the pain.

He flipped you over so your back was against the counter. Lifting you up, you were now sat on the counter, legs spread.

Your face grew hot and your head turned away from his intense stare. His hand grabbed your chin and forced you make eye contact with him. His hand moved down slowly. Finding your clit, his index and middle finger gently circled it and you gasped.

The sudden pleasure was such a lovely contrast to the soreness of your ass. Looking down, you watched as one finger slowly enter you. Your mouth opened but no sound came out.

He slowly pumped the one finger while still circling your clit with his index finger. He then pushed his ring finger inside you. Your head fell back as you moaned.

He steadily began to pick up his pace. The squelching sounds your pussy made were unholy. Your face was hot with embarrassment. Your toes began to curl and un-curl as a knot began to form in your stomach.

His fingers began to curl inside you, hitting that special spot. He pace never let up, even as your legs began to shake. Your breathing quicker and beads of sweat began rolling down your forehead.

Your moans quickened. You clenched around his fingers, then, everything stopped. You let out a long whine and looked at his now still arm.

He slowly pulled out of you. “Patience, love.”

You couldn’t muster up the words to answer so you only nodded, your head still against the wall. Your did your best to slow your breathing.

You leaned forward and reached towards his pants. Unbuttoning and pulling them down, you gulped.

He was long and thicc, larger than you had imagined. You but your lip and glanced up at him. You tried to slide off the counter, but he only pushed you back down.

“Next time, right now, I just want to fuck you.” He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance.

With a low grown he pushed into you. Your cunt burned, unused to stretching to far. He bottomed out, and held still, waiting for you to adjust to him.

After a moment he began to slowly move in and out of you. Your small moans were encouragement for him to speed up. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. Your nails began to dig into his skin. One hand tangled itself into his hair and began gently pulling.

That was his excuse. With one he grabbed both of your’s and pulled them above you head. Using his weight to pin them against the wall. His free hand was holding into your hip so tight it was sure to leave bruises.

He began to lean more weight into your wrists and his head was so close to just resting on your shoulder, yet his pace didn’t lighten one bit. If anything, he kept getting faster and faster. You swore the counter began to move and the walls started to shake.

You feel your hips twitching into him. His pelvis rubbed against your clit in an almost painful way.

His skin slapped against your’s, and your hot breath intermingled with his. The air felt thick. You pulled at your arms trying anything to gain control over them again. He held them tight, his hand not moving once.

Mindlessly, you leaned forward, in an act of rebellion you guessed. You yanked the bottom half of his mask off and crashed your lips into his. It took him a moment to begin kissing you back. He bit your lip and you gasped, your tongues twisted together, and you moaned into the kiss. The vibrations reverberating through your mouths.

His pace started to become sporadic and his groans grew louder. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand and the top of his hand. Your toes began to curl. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist.

He thrusted into harder, and his seed spilled over, filling you. The feeling of warmth that created deep inside you pushed you over the edge.

He continued fucking you both through your highs. He then stilled and very slowly pull out of you. You whined at the feeling, your cunt fighting to keep him buried inside you.

He dropped your hands and leaned his still masked forehead against your shoulder. Your legs dropped from his waist and you both sat there, just breathing.

Breathlessly, he chuckled, “I knew you were a good choice.” His arms wrapped around your waist hugging you.

You laughed and returned his hug. It was sweaty, hot, and bits of uncomfortable and comfortable. Something about the way you held each other, just made both of you never want to let go.

You weren’t sure what would happen after you both let go. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. But you wished for this to continue. No matter how wrong it was.

#the black phone #horror #horror x you #the grabber #slashers x reader #slashers x you #the black phone x reader #the black phone x you #horror x reader #the grabber x you #the grabber x reader #gimme them moobs >:)#slasher smut

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 1 month

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i love a longish fic where kurt and blaine are already dating and it’s set in high school. i don’t mind what story line, i’m just craving some established relationship in highschool please and thank you !!!!

Here are some that follow canon or adapt it, when they are based at McKinley, or together at Dalton. Try McKInley or Dalton!Klaine tabs also. ~JEn

The Architects of Life by misqueue

Follows the development of Kurt and Blaine’s relationship in the canon timeline from 3x05 “The First Time”.

~~~~~

Shiftings by @chazzam

The shift in their relationship didn’t come out of left field at all. Beneath the surface, things had been changing all along. This fic describes what changed in Kurt ant Blaine’s relationship to make him realize that his feelings for Kurt were more than just friendship.

~~~~~

Fade Into You by Lady Callista

Nine moments between Kurt and Blaine showing all the love, trust, and just plain adorableness that they’re known for. From before their first kiss until after their first time, enjoy these moments that somehow got misplaced or were just not appropriate for television.

~~~~~~

A Caution to the Birds (Blaine Big Bang)by xsaturated

“You didn’t transfer schools for a better education or a change of scenery, Blaine,” his father reminds him, not unkindly. “We sent you to Dalton so you would be safe.” Or the one where Blaine’s junior year at Dalton means a boyfriend who is now his competition, a family who are only ever predictable when it suits them, a transfer student with a penchant for stirring things up, meddling Warblers and the realization that the safe option may not always be the best one. A season three!AU.

~~~~

Start of season two onwards, so a build up to 2X16.

99 perspectives on a single love story by @spaceorphan18

The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

~~~~~

Not already dating, but get together quickly:

Go Your Own Wayby zavocado

Kurt Hummel just wants to get through his Junior Year at McKinley in one piece. But when the new guy from Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys takes an alarming interest in him, he’s certain he’s going to be in for a wild ride. Badboy!Blaine, Klaine

~~~~~

#klaine fanfiction #fic finder #mckinley #Highschool!klaine

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

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Hello and thank you so much for your service for all this years! My question can be a little too specific so if fic strike at least some of points it's still cool. I'm looking for human au with heavy accent on Aziraphale and his angelic siblings. It can be something nice and family fluffy, sure, not all in his family is a dicks, but I'm thinking more about something like Aziraphale dealing with years of family abuse and finally relearning how to live without shame and fear; Crowley getting to look at Aziraphale's family close after years of "they are nice we just don't get along" and being utterly terrified; Crowley helping Aziraphale to learn to stand his ground and being all proud when he got it; Crowley and Aziraphale bonding over familial traumas; etc. Also can be with hints of season two, like Aziraphale trying to reconnect with family or saving Muriel (or even "Jim") from same abuse and being all gentle and understanding (and making Crowley proud again). Absolutely no to victim blaming (I mean from Crowley or author pov, from Aziraphale's or family pov sure), preferably without heavy fatshaming, preferably older Aziraphale and Crowley (no to kid and teen aus, meh to college/young adults, yes to 30+ and absolutely YES to 40+). Great if it's longish and kind of plottish fic! Super great if there would be autistic Aziraphale, not cis Aziraphale, in any way disabled Aziraphale, religious trauma, cptsd and did I mentioned supportive Crowley? Btw it can be not Aziraphale-centric fic, if it's just romance or even Crowley-centric but themes are there, I'm interested. Anyway as I said it's probably too specific so anything that "kind of close" will do. Thanks in advance!

Here are some adult human aus in which Aziraphale's family are Not Nice...

The Long Road Home by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale Heavensby only knows about love from books. So when he's given a chance to experience romance first hand he grabs it as hard as he can. Even if it can't last. Even if Aziraphale’s father has very definite plans for his future. Plans that certainly don't include Anthony Crowley.

Drink You In by FinnsKeeper (G)

Aziraphale Fell owns a rather popular bar in Soho London. His life is relatively calm and predictable until he meets Anthony Crowley one fateful night. When a first date goes wrong, Aziraphale has to take measures to protect his newest patron. Anthony's gratitude quickly morphs into something deeper, and Aziraphale has to battle his own demons to determine if those feelings are true or just a product of his impromptu rescue.

Someone by Diminua (M)

This was a kinkmeme prompt and as usual I can't do better than to paraphrase the OP : Aziraphale is a frumpy, middle aged man, who's closing in on 50 : he's spent his entire life alone, mistreated by his family, and living like a modern times hermit in his familiar, reassuring bookshop. He thinks it's too late for passion. But he hopes that, maybe, he could find a companion for his latter days. Crowley has spent his entire life having a wild time: parties, sex, rock n roll, all that jazz. He flew through the 80s, the 90s, the new millennium like a car on fire. He thought he had time, thought he'd be young and surrounded by people forever, thought with fling after fling after fling, someone would find him. Someone would look at him and choose him. But no one ever did. To paraphrase (again) - they turn to an arranged marriage company. And they fit..

Dating in the Dark by miraworos (E)

Anthony J. Crowley, owner of a failing joke-shop, and Aziraphale, bookshop proprietor with an overbearing family, meet as contestants on a blind dating show. They form an instant connection as roommates but soon find themselves at odds as they compete to win the top spot, and the favor of the same lady.

The Ghost of Husbands Past by A_N_D (E)

Az always knew that he’d be thrown out the moment his father found out he was gay. He hadn’t expected to be declared dead though - or for his husband to believe it! But their marriage had been a foolish teenage impulse (not to mention invalid in America), so when Az moved to a small town far upstate New York to start his new life, he moved alone. The kindest thing he could do was let Crowley mourn and move on, not be shackled for life to a now disabled partner. Tony Crowley never recovered from losing his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his better half. He’d been drifting ever since; no plans, no hope, no money - and now, just before Thanksgiving, no job either. Given the stark choice of freezing to death or accepting his sister’s invitation to join her upstate, Tony reluctantly lives out the Hallmark cliche of Recently Unemployed Person Moves to Small Town for Christmas. It’s a time of hope, love, and family. It’s time for Az and Tony to find each other again.

love like yours (will surely come my way) by CCs_World (T)

Dr Zira Fell is a new professor of theology at St Beryl's University. His first day there he meets the mysterious and enchanting Dr AJ Crowley, an art history professor and a painter. They almost immediately become friends, and spend most of their time getting lunch together, talking, drinking wine, making art, and falling slowly in love with one another. Featuring cameos of everyone's favorite (and least favorite) characters, gratuitous descriptions of paintings, long text messaging conversations, and one cranky cat.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #adult omens #family dynamics #religious guilt #mod d

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amidnight--dreary · 2 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

166!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.

4. Top five fics by kudos

First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!

5. Do you respond to comments?

God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖

9. Do you write smut?

I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!

10. Craziest crossover?

I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.

14. All time favorite ship?

Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol

19. First fandom you wrote in?

The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭

I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖

#ask game #frostiron #fic rec

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christinesficrecs · 1 year

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Helloo christine! happy holidays i love love love your blog it definitely is a blessing in my life. do u happen to know any good longish fics where stiles saves the hales from kate or even derek from paige’s death. Ive read Daybreak by obsidianquill and starcanopus and im dyyiiinggg i need more. Thanks in advance hope you have a great new year

Hey! Maybe these ones.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill | 70.3K | Mature

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Find A Way by LLN3dseestheLight | 25.1K | Mature

Kate Argent came back to Beacon Hills and slaughter the Pack. Only Stiles and Lydia survived for the moment but thanks to Peter Hale they have a way to change that...by doing something very stupid.

A Time Travel spell... If it works... And it does in a way... but it also sent them to another reality as well.

Play It Again by metisket | 63.2K

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

Spook: A Ghostly Love Story in Three Parts by zosofi | 38.1K

Derek is fifteen when he dies. He's been fifteen for six years when he meets Stiles. And then suddenly... suddenly things start looking up.

hope is the thing with feathers by ShanaStoryteller | 28.9K

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

Stiles plans are the worst (the best) by Dashar | 88.7K

Stiles world ended when his pack died. It didn’t exactly come as a surprise. He had been running with wolves for so long that within hunters and monsters it was just a matter of time. It was a surprise when the world ended too. And Stiles… Well, he had to do something about that.

When the Smoke Clears by Spikedluv | 15.7K

Beacon Hills is under attack from various supernatural creatures. Most of the town has been burned to the ground, and Stiles has lost everyone he loves. He attempts a time-travel spell even though Deaton has cautioned against it. In the past, he’ll need to save the Hale family so they can protect Beacon Hills. The only questions are, will he make it back in time, and will Talia Hale believe him?

Turn back time by A_pretty_good_pair | 49.7K

There's no one left. No one. Stiles decides in his grief to try and fix everything he did wrong the first time around. Will he be able to save everyone or will he relive the pain of losing them all once again?

One More Again by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 22.2K

When a strange man appears in the Hale Pack territory with an unusual proposition for Stiles and Lydia, Stiles is unable to resist going back in time to stop the Hale House fire.

Even after a few bumps in the road, Stiles finds himself in the past with one nearly-insurmountable goal - getting Talia Hale and the rest of her family to trust him with their lives.

Unfettered by Heizpilz | 70.4K

In the morning, Stiles simply doesn’t get up. What would be the point? Everything he cares about – everyone he cares about – is gone. Dead and buried, quite literally. True, there are some people left on the periphery of what was once his life, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck about them.

Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy | 52.2K

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #time travel #stiles saves the hales

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year

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Mine | Jaemin Fic #1

Title: Mine

Genre: College AU, best friends to lovers

Word Count: 3551k

Warnings: mentions of reader being insecure, also tiny mentions her having a not-so-great childhood

Author's Note: Before, I tried to refrain from writing this trope because I thought it was a bit cliché. But I decided there was no harm in trying it. I think there are a lot of other writers who have done a better job than me. It was still fun to make this though. Hope you guys like my first longish story on here! Thank you for reading ^ - ^

∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘

“(Y/n)-ah!”

On cue, your eyes lifted from the textbooks in front of you and found a familiar face. You acknowledged the caramel brown-haired man with a small smile. Pretending as if your heart didn’t flutter when he called your name.

Jaemin returned your smile with his adorable one and claimed the empty chair next to you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the boy, watching as he reached for his bag.

“I was at the convenience store and picked this up for you,” He quickly explained, placing a triangle kimbap in your hand. “I got the spicy crab one you like.”

A confused frown formed on your lips. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Knowing psychology major Lee (Y/n), you’ve been here since the morning on a Saturday. Which means you probably skipped breakfast and lunch,” Jaemin relayed.

“Aish…how did you know?” You admitted quietly, as you unwrapped the plastic on the kimbap. It was crazy how he knew you so well.

You guessed that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends with a person for six years. Ever since you helped him from failing the math exam in the sixth grade, Na Jaemin stuck to you like glue. Throughout middle and high school, people wouldn’t see you without the other.

He looked at you like a proud mom when you took the first bite. “I just know you.”

You held his gaze for a second too long, cursing at yourself for blushing. Usually, the two of you were super casual with each other. In those small moments of sincerity, you felt like a million butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

It seemed that with years of friendship came blossoming feelings. You knew how stupid and cliché you were, being secretly in love with your best friend. But how could you not fall for him?

Na Jaemin was perhaps the only person who knew Lee (Y/n) the best. He knew all the things you liked and hated. He knew about your tendency to crack under pressure and the constant anxiety that ruled your mind. And he knew what cheered you up during those times, whether it was reassuring words or a warm hug from your best friend.

Jaemin…saw you in your worst moments. Maybe that’s why you fell for him. You realized it in ninth grade when your mom left the house and Jaemin was immediately at your side. He stayed the whole night, wiping away your tears and repeatedly telling you it wasn’t your fault.

But no matter how strong your feelings grew, you suppressed them to the best of your ability. You decided a long time ago that Jaemin probably didn’t feel the same way. You knew because you watched him date multiple girls in high school. Though they were short-lived like any high school relationship, he never failed to capture the heart of any girl with a charming face like his. Besides, you treasured your friendship more than some confession that could easily ruin what you already had. At least this way, he was still a part of your life and you were a part of his.

Your thoughts were interrupted by loud chatter from a group entering the study area. You didn’t even need to look to know who the six boys were. After entering high school, Jaemin made a lot of friends. Even though they could be annoying with how much bickering they did, they were a nice group of guys.

Mark was a super senior majoring in business. Renjun, Haechan, and Jeno were third-year students, just like you and Jaemin. Then there was Chenle who was a sophomore and you recently met Jisung who was a freshman.

“Ugh, how long have you been here?” Haechan groaned at the sight of the textbooks and notes laid in front of you.

You sent the boy a glare. “I have a 15-page research paper due by the end of the week. Time can’t be wasted.”

“Sheesh. Being a psychology major sounds scary,” Jeno shuddered.

You rolled your eyes and took another bite of your kimbap. Though you didn’t want to admit it, eating felt pretty nice after pulling two all-nighters and skipping meals. You were almost thankful when the attention of the group shifted to the boy next to you.

“Hey, I heard a certain someone might like you,” Mark nudged him on the shoulder.

News to him, Jaemin cocked a brow. “Really? Who?”

“Song Hyejin,” Renjun answered. “Contemporary dance major.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we share a class,” Jisung nodded.

Chenle beside him, pulled out his phone to show Jaemin a picture of her. “You know her, right?”

You peeked over at the younger’s phone. Song Hyejin…you’ve passed by her in the halls a few times. Despite being only a freshman, she quickly became popular among the guys. What was there not to like about her? She had beautifully styled hair, wore the best outfits, and had the prettiest makeup. She was sweet, talented, and surely had a whole future ahead of her.

“She’s cute I guess,” Jaemin shrugged in response.

Haechan playfully smacked him on the shoulder. “Just cute? She’s a total goddess.”

A piece of you deflated at this. Insecurity was another reason Jaemin and you could never happen. There was no way that he would like you when he could have any other girl in the world. Despite how close you were, you knew that Na Jaemin was out of your league.

✰ ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―・

That evening, you could barely concentrate on your assignments. Your mind kept wandering back to what the guys were talking about earlier. You wondered if Jaemin was going to date Hyejin. They’d surely be a popular campus couple if they did. Jaemin was already known for his handsome visuals and charming personality.

“You’ve been staring at your computer screen for the past seven minutes.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you glanced over to your roommate, Young-Mi who was on her bed scrolling through social media. As the one other person who went to high school with you, she had been there to witness your hopeless crush on Jaemin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You muttered and closed your laptop for the night. Your work was pretty much finished anyway.

Young-Mi sat up and stretched her arms. “Are you doing anything next Monday?”

“No, why?”

“There’s a guy in my programming class. His name is Yangyang,” Your friend spoke casually. “He’s in the same year as us, and I think you guys would get along.”

You sighed already knowing where this was going. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh come on,” Young-Mi whined. “Are you going to be hung up on Na Jaemin forever?”

You turned around, suddenly feeling defensive. “What—no! It’s just…I don’t want to date anyone right now.”

“That’s the thing, you never want to date anyone,” Young-Mi huffed in frustration. “I’ve watched you turn down a bunch of guys in high school and you still do it. All because of him!”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Young-Mi-yah.”

But the girl persisted. “I’m sorry to break it to you (Y/n)-ah. But he clearly hasn’t shown any interest in you over the years, and he probably never will.”

Your nails dug into the fabric of your leggings. The truth hurt a lot more said out loud.

“Come to your senses, Lee (Y/n). It’s time to move on.”

The thought of it felt like someone was stealing your breath. You’ve been stuck in this one-sided love for far too long now. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t seem to get over him. But Young-Mi was right, you were never going to get anywhere with this.

“I’ll think about it,” You mumbled before leaving to go wash up for the night.

✰ ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―・

Jaemin heaved a small sigh as he gave Hyejin a polite smile when she waved to him. Before she could approach him, he quickly passed by. She had asked him to have lunch with her the other day, and he couldn’t exactly say no. After that one time, he was more careful to leave first before she could get to him.

“You dodged that one pretty fast.” Jeno walked up beside him. “You’re really not interested in her, huh?”

Jaemin chuckled, “Hyejin is nice. But…”

“You still have feelings for (Y/n)?”

Jeno didn’t even need to ask. He was the only one in the friend group who knew about the boy’s “unrequited” love for you. Solely because Jeno said it was so “obvious,” and that the others were fools to not notice.

“Yeah…” Jaemin nodded sadly.

The truth was, Jaemin has been in love with you since that time you helped him out in middle school. You were always the better student and took it upon yourself to tutor him in whatever subject he was struggling in. Even though you acted like you didn’t care about others, Jaemin knew you were a kindhearted person.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you let her know?”

“It’s not that easy.” The boy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

The other truth was that Jaemin was afraid, always has been. Perhaps, you were the most precious person to him. He didn’t want to start something with you, only for it to not work out and make things awkward between the two of you. Being your best friend at the most, was the safest place for him to be at.

“If (Y/n) knows my true feelings, I could lose her,” He stated.

Jeno sighed and swung his arm around his friend. “Well, I think there’s a high chance she likes you back. And who knows, maybe you guys are soulmates or something.”

Jaemin laughed and parted ways from Jeno before heading to the cafeteria. A smile crept on his lips when he saw you eating some yukgaejang. He was getting worried because you haven’t been coming to lunch lately. You were always the type to prioritize academics over your health.

“Whatcha looking at?” He asked as he sat down.

You glanced up from your phone. “Young-Mi is trying to set me up on a blind date.”

“With who?”

He crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder at the Instagram profile you pulled up. Jaemin instantly didn’t like the idea of this.

“Eh, I’ve seen better-looking guys,” He muttered, before shoving rice into his mouth. You couldn’t quite read his expression. “Are you…”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You shrugged. “It’s not like I have any plans.”

Jaemin didn’t like what he heard. While he’s had some experience, you have never dated anyone before. Your priority of school and getting a job after college was the excuse you used. He wondered what changed your mind all of a sudden.

“Do you have a problem with that?” You tilted your head, noticing the frown he was wearing.

Jaemin met your curious eyes and quickly shook his head. “N—no. You can do whatever.”

Your shoulders dropped. “Oh…okay.”

He internally cursed at himself for saying that. The thought of you going out with some other guy didn’t sit well with him. But you were your own person who was perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Who was he to stop you?

✰ ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―・

On your visit home during the weekend, you had stationed yourself in the kitchen for the whole afternoon. Just as you were popping the metal pan out of the oven, your older brother, Taeyong strolled in.

His eyes immediately enlarged with interest. “You made brownies?”

“Yeah, I was just in the mood I guess,” You said, grabbing the glass of water you got earlier. “Jaemin likes sweet things you know.”

“Oh, are you guys finally a thing now?” Taeyong asked. He sat at the counter and reached for one of your chocolate treats. His actions earned a light slap on the hand with your oven mitt.

“Wait until they cool,” You lightly scolded, pretending to ignore the amused expression on his face. “And no we aren’t.”

“Huh, I thought you would be by now.” He rested his chin on his hand innocently. “Jaemin hasn’t confessed yet?”

His sudden question threw you into a fit of coughs from choking on your water. Your lovely brother shook with laughter.

“What are you talking about? He doesn’t like me like that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Have you ever seen the way he looks at you?”

You laughed at his ridiculous question. This was just another way of Taeyong trying to tease you.

He stood up from his seat. “Just think about it. Maybe you’ve been too focused on your feelings that you never picked up on them.”

Then yet again, your brain was left in a jumbled mess. When you think about it, maybe Jaemin dropped some hints here and there. But with his naturally flirty personality, you didn’t think he treated you any differently than other girls. Though there was always this sincerity in his words and a softness in his eyes.

You shook your head. Remembering what Young-Mi said a while back, you needed to stop these fantasies. Then again, if your own brother thought the opposite, maybe you were missing something.

✰ ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―・

You fumbled with the paper blue bag in your hands, as you walked toward the lecture room Jaemin was in. His Monday class always ended at 1:30 p.m. Yours ended an hour earlier, and that’s when you’d usually be in the library or study space. But you had the brownies you planned to give to him.

Jaemin often begged you for treats whenever you made them. And of course, the boy didn’t seem to leave your mind. Despite the amount of effort you put into getting over him, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you spotted him standing outside the classroom door, there was another figure in front of him. One with beautifully styled hair and a designer dress you could never afford. You couldn’t compete with your round-shaped glasses, stick-straight hair, and the plain black turtleneck you often wore.

You didn’t even have to take a step forward to overhear the conversation.

“I apologize for my forwardness but…I like you, Sunbae,” She spoke shyly, bouncing on the tip of her toes. “After talking with you, I think we’re pretty compatible. Let’s date!”

It only took the tiniest of smiles to crack on Jaemin’s face for your stomach to churn. You turned in the other direction, walking as fast as possible so you couldn’t hear his response.

“You’re such an idiot, Lee (Y/n)!” You blinked away the tears that already began to form.

You didn’t understand why you were getting so emotional. Surely this wasn’t the first time you witnessed your best friend enter a new relationship. Of course, it hurt to see him with another girl. Back then you pretended to be okay because you didn’t want Jaemin to worry.

Maybe because it was Song Hyejin, someone you could never be. And now she’d have someone you could never have.

“Hey (Y/n), I was just about to text you!” Young-Mi exclaimed when she saw you were outside.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Eo, what is it?”

“Do you still want to meet the guy?” She asked with a slight pout. “I really think you should give it a shot.”

Young-Mi held up her phone with his contact information displayed. You stared at the screen, thinking back to what you saw earlier. Perhaps it was the refreshing heartache that prompted you to accept her offer without too much consideration.

As much as it broke you, it was time to give up your hopeless crush on Na Jaemin.

―・

“Wah, you really turned her down Hyung?” Jisung asked with a hand over his mouth.

Jaemin nodded to the younger and glanced over to Jeno who had a discreet smile on his face. While his other friends seemed to be confused by Jaemin’s actions, he was rather proud.

~ ~ ~

“I like you Sunbae. Let’s date!” Her eyes sparkled when she spoke to him.

The polite smile he put on was almost instinctual. The one he always wore when a girl confessed to him.

“I’m sorry Hyejin-ssi, but there’s already someone I like.” He lowered his gaze. “So I’m afraid I can’t accept your feelings.”

~ ~ ~

The slightly offended expression on her face was still clear in Jaemin’s head. She probably wasn’t used to rejection. Before, Jaemin thought he could get over you if he said yes to those other girls. But he could never fully give his heart away with you lingering in his thoughts.

This time, he decided that he needed to stop making a fool out of himself.

“Anyway, who wants to get samgyeopsal tonight?” Haechan decided to redirect the conversation. Easily persuaded, the guys were already agreeing.

“We should text (Y/n) to see if she wants to come,” Jeno mentioned, giving Jaemin a side glance.

“I think she’s going on a blind date today,” said Renjun.

Jaemin sat up. “What?! Tonight?”

“Yeah, you know Liu Yangyang? I’m pretty sure that’s who she’s meeting.”

“Oh him? He’s pretty cool,” Chenle nodded with approval.

Their words became a blur to Jaemin. He remembered you talking about this last week, not thinking you’d actually go through with it.

“I have to go,” was all he said before standing up to leave. The guys called out to him, but he ignored them.

He ran out of the commons area and stopped at the front of your dorm building. That was when he saw you looking at him with a slightly concerned expression.

“Jaemin-ah, what are you doing here?”

Grasping onto his knees as he caught his breath, he stopped to look at you. To him, you always dressed nicely. But today you were wearing a cute plaid dress over a white top, and you even put on a little makeup.

“Don’t—go—on—that date,” He panted, pressing a hand to his chest. His lungs felt like they were about to burst.

You frowned, wondering how he found out so fast. Was that the reason he came here?

“Why?” You found yourself asking. Why did he care if you were going on a date or not?

His eyes met yours and they held that unreadable gaze again.

“Because you’re mine.” He said breathlessly.

Then just as you started to process that sentence, he cupped your face and crashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes were wide open from the initial shock. But he didn’t show any sign he was about to pull away anytime soon. And slowly you closed your eyes and let yourself melt into the kiss.

When he did pull away, you were left in a blubbering mess. A million thoughts were racing through your head.

“I—don’t understand. I thought you and Hyejin…?”

“I rejected her,” Jaemin answered plainly. You removed his hands from your neck, trying to make sense of this news.

“But why? I mean, she’s so pretty and smart. She has so much more to offer.”

“I was afraid before. But you’re the only girl I want to be with,” He interjected. “I’ve always liked you, Lee (Y/n). I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you that.”

You were left speechless for the next few moments. With your heart beating faster and hot cheeks, you could almost explode. The one person you’ve spent half your life admiring was here in front of you, admitting his feelings. This had to be a dream, right?

“Na Jaemin, you better not be playing with me,” You warned.

He looked so serious, you were almost intimidated. Then his arm snaked around your waist and he whispered. “Should I kiss you again to prove I’m not kidding?”

Jaemin took the flustered silence from you as a yes. You could feel him smiling into the second kiss, unable to contain the joy of knowing he finally had you.

***

“When did you start liking me?” You asked out of curiosity.

His response was quick. “Since the day we met. What about you?”

“Oh…I think it was at the end of middle school?” You tilted your head, thinking back to it all. “Wah, I can’t believe it took so long for us to confess.”

“Yeah, we were silly weren’t we?”

You smiled and linked arms with him. “Well, we’re together now and that’s what matters.”

“You’re right, love,” He smiled back and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

Your little moment came to an end with Haechan’s fake gagging.

“Gosh, they haven’t even been dating for 24 hours and they’re already one of those disgustingly sweet couples.”

“It took them long enough,” Jeno added.

Of course, the guys were happy to see their friends get together. Jaemin was too. No longer would he let his or your fears come in between the two of you. Though there was no way of telling what your future would be like, Jaemin fully intended on making you happy for the rest of his life.

∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘

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