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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

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Virgin

Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.

Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship

Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.

This is long and I'm not sorry about it.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity

Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else.

You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.

"So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.

"Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.

"No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."

"Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.

"Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.

"Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.

"What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."

"Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."

"You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"

Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?

It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?

A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?

"Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.

"Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off.

"Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed.

"Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."

"Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.

You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.

"Pretty dress." He complimented.

"Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.

"Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.

"Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.

"Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.

You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.

"Sure you're alright?" He asked again.

"Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"

He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass.

"You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?"

"A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"

"Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."

"Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.

"Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."

"It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."

She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.

"Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.

"Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"

"Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."

"I do wear dresses sometimes--"

"Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that."

"W-- I know, I just.."

"Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.

"I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"

He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."

"Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."

----

About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?

He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?

His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back."

You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?

You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.

Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.

So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?

"Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.

"What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"

He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.

"Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."

"I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."

Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.

"All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."

"What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?

"Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.

Bite? Is that a sex thing?

It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.

` "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.

Word vomit.

Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.

"Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."

He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night.

You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.

"I do want to."

He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.

"Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.

He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.

"Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.

"I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.

"Ya sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.

"Ya been drinkin'."

"I'm not drunk."

"But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"

You didn't respond. He had a point.

"Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."

"I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.

"Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.

"Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"

Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?

"Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"

While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.

"Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you.

"I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"

You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?

"I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."

"I don't think ya mean that."

"I do." You insisted.

He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.

"Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"

You faltered. What?

"What?"

"Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again.��

"Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive.

"Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex."

He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.

"Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"

He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"

Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"

"And..." You trailed off.

"Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.

"I am too!"

"No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.

"I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.

"Teach ya what?"

"I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.

"Really?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.

----

After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.

"So." You began.

"Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush the hair off of it.

"Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.

He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.

He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.

When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.

"Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.

"All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.

"Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.

"Lay down." He instructed softly. You did.

He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?

He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.

He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?

He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.

He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.

He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.

His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.

"Please.." You whispered.

He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.

He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.

He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.

"Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.

"I just--"

"Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?

He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.

"Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.

He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.

You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.

He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders.

"Oh god." You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.

So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm.

It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.

He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.

Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.

Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.

When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.

"Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.

"Yes." You whispered.

He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.

"Y'alright?"

"Uh-huh." You squeaked.

"Y'sure?"

"Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.

He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.

When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated.

When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.

He leaned into your ear.

"Can ya cum again for me?"

Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."

"Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.

"Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.

"C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.

A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore.

He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.

"Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.

"Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need more."

He chuckled. "I need time to--"

"I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day."

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#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl dixon

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nariism · 10 months

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pair. pro player!itoshi rin x gn!reader

here i am pushing the agenda that rin has jealousy problems because of his abandonment issues.... (´°ω°`)

itoshi rin who was insistent that you not tag along for this party, until you looked so offended you might sleep on the couch instead of in bed next to him.

itoshi rin who was already mildly jealous the very second he saw you step out of your shared bedroom wearing such a pretty outfit. he groaned to himself because he just knew all the other members of his team would be asking for a dance with you just to piss him off. vultures, the lot of them.

itoshi rin who thinks it's absolutely infuriating how oblivious you are to the staring and gawking from other people. but you just look so happy to be there and he can't help but show you off; his treasure, the most important person in his life, the eighth wonder of the world. his pride and joy. his whole heart.

itoshi rin who leaves for literally two minutes to go to the bathroom, and when he comes back with a drink in his hand he nearly shatters the glass with his grip because he sees shidou trying to chat you up.

itoshi rin who actually does end up accidentally breaking the glass in his hands. everyone turns to look at him funny with his sudden outburst. including you, with that concerned expression that makes him feel like he's about to fucking combust in shame for not being able to control his temper.

itoshi rin who's a complaining mess when you sit him down to clean the cuts on his hand and bandage him, laughing about how easy he is to rile up. he can't even find it in himself to be upset anymore, not when your fingers are delicately working against his like this.

itoshi rin who finally relaxes for the rest of the night when you cling to him, refusing to let go even as you're leaving the venue. you just make him feel so loved, so cherished, how could he not want you all to himself?

#— whispers in the wind ✧#bllk #blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #➶ ͙˚ ༘✶ soph writes!#posting drafts rn cause ive been busy #T_T

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lilliumrorum · 4 months

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What does he have that I don’t? (Part One)

<<Previous | Masterlist | Next>> Synopsis: After discovering your lover's affair with his best friend, you found yourself in emotional turmoil. Seeking comfort, you end up in your captains office for the second time that night.

WC: 2k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Verbal abuse, Smut, Cheating, Unrequited love, Threesome is mentioned.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've been in school, at work or stoned so I didn't have the time. I do now and I'm back!

Betrayal, heartbreak, shock, and confusion are common reactions in such situations. However, this was definitely not just some situation. The head that was once thrown back in pleasure was now gawking at you, awaiting your reaction.

"[Name]..." Simon sighed.

How could he have expected you to respond? He shared intimacy with someone who understood him better than you ever did—the person he introduced you to just two weeks into your relationship. Johnny was his closest confidant, his right-hand man, the one he would willingly take a bullet for. You're not even sure he would even identify you on the battlefield.

"Sorry I barged in, I'll leave you to yourselves."

"Wait-"

Without granting him the opportunity to finish, you swiftly closed the door and slung the robust duffle bag over your shoulder.

You always had a feeling that he was attracted to Johnny, but didn't think he was aware. Simon wasn't one to express admiration openly, but he consistently praised Johnny as the best sergeant he had ever witnessed in action. You wished Simon would speak about you the way he talked about Johnny, but you never felt jealous. Now, you felt numb, the only sensation you feel is that of your knuckles turning white as you tightly grip your bag.

Wandering aimlessly, you had no idea where to go without a single friend nearby. Sure you had teammates, but you weren't close to any of them. You were genuinely alone, and it seemed even Simon didn't want you around (not that you were planning on going back tonight anyway). You couldn't comprehend how something so right could turn so wrong. Maybe it started when those morning kisses shifted to him leaving under the guise of going for a "run." The movie nights together evolved into you being isolated, reading a book in your dimly lit bedroom, with him conspicuously absent. Your bed was usually always empty, due to Simon's "workload", but there was going to be one less body tonight. It was no longer your bed.

"Really? Are you actually going to leave me when you've just come home?!"

Simon seemed unbothered by your tear soaked face.

"I don't always want to walk in and deal with your naggin'. Fuckin' Christ, I can't even go for a lap around the base with out your crazy ass losing your shit!" He lashed out.

A whimper left your lips.

"I just missed you, Si! I love you! It's not nagging if I tell you that I want to see you! Where is the man I fell for? Where did his love go? This is not you Simon! It's not fucking you!"

"I never fell. 'Si' does not exist. Simon doesn't fucking exist."

"So you never felt any of it? You've just been faking your way through this entire fucking relationship? Do you even want to try anymore? You don't even fucking care!"

He paused.

"How can I try to feel remorse for a love that was a lie? The only thing I even remotely enjoy about you is that after we fuck you leave me the hell alone and go to sleep." He spat at you coldly.

"Okay... well if Simon doesn't exist then whos been sleeping in my bed?! Who used to kiss my tears away? I want him back. All you ever do now is cause them."

"A ghost." his words dripping with malice as he slammed your door.

You were too caught up in the sadness of your relationship to realize you were crying or understand what was going on around you. The sadness caused something to decay in your heart. The thought of what you witnessed made you feel nauseous, so you tried to get your conscience off of the present matter. Your thoughts drifted to your captain, the only person you felt you could trust now. He had repeatedly mentioned his availability in his office, even beyond regular hours.

Captain Price was consistently kind. Despite the necessity of sternness in his role as a captain, his gaze was always gentle when directed towards you. As you started to notice the features of the building, a sense of lightness washed over you, as if all your problems faded away upon its sight. You observed a light flicker in response to the loud steps you took across the terrain. The door cracked open, and you saw his eyes start to crinkle when he noticed you.

"Things aren't goin' very well I reckon?" He smiled sympathetically.

"Not at all. I think things wont be going anywhere now. I have nowhere to go."

He cocked an eyebrow at your words, then turned to hold the door. John Price was a genuine gentleman, not someone pretending to be what they weren't, but the authentic, real deal. At times, you wished Simon could be more like him—kind yet firm, resembling an actual person.

"You can tell me about it once we get to my room." He shot you a soft, closed lip smile.

After reaching the stairs in the hall, both of you climbed them wearily. You could sense his gaze on you; he was studying your face. He could see that the whites of your eyes were visibly red from crying, and there was a faint trace of a tear on your cheek. He stopped examining your face as you reached his door. Once more, he held the door open for you as you entered.

"You can place your bag in the closet {name}, I know you've had a hard night."

You followed through, placing the oversized bag on his closet floor. He entered his bedroom with you, staying close in case you needed any assistance. Your face became heated for some reason as you found yourself in the bedroom with your captain. You hurriedly left his bedroom, while he followed slowly with fatigued movements. Upon reaching the living room, he sat down on the couch with a grunt, and you followed suit.

"Tell me all that happened after you left my office." He commanded.

Price was always very protective of you, intervening with Simon when he observed your distressing situation. When he witnessed Simon screaming at you for reaching for his hand, he nearly lost his mind. He couldn't bear the way his lieutenant treated you. Some part of you had always been drawn to your captain. His soft smile and sweet demeanor made you ponder what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. The only obstacle in your path was the age difference, and you were aware that if he ever found out, it would complicate things between you.

"I found him. I found him with someone..."

Your face told him it wasn't just someone.

"Do you know who?"

You nodded slowly, a tear rolling down your cheek. His eyes widened. Just as he was about to ask, you answered.

"Johnny."

His jaw dropped almost comically. He would never suspect Simon to be interested in men, and hearing that he was involved with Johnny just made the news ten times more shocking.

"How can I compare to his best friend? The one who understands him more than I ever will?" You sniffled.

"Sometimes a man does foolish things.."

You turned your gaze to John, anticipating the completion of his sentence. He looked lost in thought.

"But?"

"But nothing. What Lieutenant did was beyond foolish. I've seen the way he's treated you, dear. For the last several months, to be exact."

You stared at him with a questioning expression. If he had noticed, why hadn't he said anything?

"You have?"

A smile tugged at his lips.

"Everyone has, Sergeant. Why else would I be comfortable with you staying here?"

You huffed out a breath,

"If you knew then why didn't you tell me?"

John found himself at a loss for how to respond to your question. On one hand, his lieutenant demonstrated exceptional skills and garnered respect among comrades. On the other hand, you were hardworking, determined, and notably stealthy, often taking the lead in infiltrating enemy bases. Both of you held immense value to the 141, and he was reluctant to risk losing either of you.

"I'm caught in a position where I can't say anything, love."

Your heart fluttered at the nickname.

"Ah. I'm sorry John. I don't want to get you caught in this mess."

Another droplet fell onto your combat pants.

"You weren't the one who made it." He said as he placed his hand on your shoulder.

The pain of witnessing your partner with someone else lingered in your mind, and tears continued to stream down from your reddened eyes. Your cheeks noticeably swelled as you fought to contain your emotions. Did Simon ever truly exist?

Maybe he was right. Maybe the whole time he really did just want a reliable source of pleasure.

"Stop thinkin', love. How about you take a nice shower and change out of that uniform. There's no way in hell that that's comfortable."

With a sniffle and a nod of your head, you made your way to his front door and proceeded to undo your bulky military boots.

"John..."

"Yes Love?"

"Where is your bathroom?"

He huffed out a laugh and tilted his head, signaling for you to follow him. The sound of his laughter enveloped you in a warm, appreciated feeling. As he walked you down the hall, you found yourself imagining what it would be like to truly be loved. The thought crossed your mind that if only John were younger, maybe you could have felt that. You sighed at your thoughts, and he looked at you with a puzzled expression. He opened the door and held it for you once more.

"Make sure not to use all the hot water." He teased.

As you walked in, he left you to yourself. The room had a certain charm to it, although it was evident that a man lived there. It featured dim lighting, a burgundy rug, and a stylish shower that housed some kind of sauna tub beneath it. You couldn't help but doubt whether he had even had the chance to use it. Everything about it appeared brand new.

As you stripped yourself from your clothing, your mind began to wonder. What would've happened if you didn't leave. What would they have done? What would Simon have done?

For some reason, you found yourself fantasizing about them. You were still mad of course, but Imagining Simon feasting on your core as Soap sucked him off was so arousing. It was almost repulsive how vividly your fantasies stirred up that sensation within you. Running the tips of your fingers through Simon's messy blonde hair as his tongue conquered your cunt, looking up at you with those blown out brown eyes. God, Just the thought of it was making you clench.

You started the shower, feeling a sense of self-disgust. Here you were heart broken and now all you can think about is having a threesome.

You took a deep breath and increased the temperature, attempting to divert your attention from the unsettling thoughts in your mind.

He didn't know what to do with himself. You hadn't stomped back to the room like you usually do. You didn't have any friends nearby to stay with, and you couldn't have gone far.

He glanced at the clock in your living room. It had been almost four hours since you walked in on them.

Where the fuck could you be?

"What're yae so bloody mad about mate? It's not like it's the lass' fault." John said sarcastically.

Simon slammed his hands on the cheap coffee table in front of him as he stood.

"I fuckin' know that."

Johnny searched his eyes, attempting to discern any trace of emotion and understand what thoughts were running through his mind.

"I was kind've hopin' she would join in."

That piqued Simon's interest.

"Yae think it's a proper idea too, huh? I told yae I'm secretly a genius!" The Scot comically jumped as he spoke, adding a touch of humor to the situation.

Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe it was a good idea.

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #soapghost #john price x reader #john price

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fizzy-dizzie · 14 days

Text

When Bucky hugged Steve for the first time since he got the serum, they were alone in a tent. They had just got back to the base camp after their miles long walk back from the hydra base and they were both exhausted.

Steve is situating himself around the very nice, fancy tent that he insisted on sharing and Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off him since he saw him from the table he was strapped onto. Steve. Little Steve. Steve who got sick every winter and who's asthma played up every summer. Steve who had been 5'4 and had remained as such since he was 14. Steve who got into too many fights and never won but not once for lack of passion.

Bucky has to say something, because he hasn't been saying anything since escaping the base and now he feels like he's about to boil over. "Steve"

The same big blue eyes he's always known greeted him and were quick to lace with concern. "You okay, Buck?"

And generally speaking no, Bucky was not okay, he'd been experimented on, he'd been taken by the enemy and strapped down to a goddamn table and he couldn't even remember half of what they did to him there.

For all Bucky knows he could drop dead at any moment but he isn't thinking about that, because he's thinking about how Steve is here, in front of him, all 6'2 of him. He's thinking about how the breath exiting his mouth doesn't follow with wheezing, or how he can take the full rib expanding breaths when he needs it without coughing until there are tears forcing themselves out of his eyes.

Bucky steps forward, his hand gently presses against the expanse of Steve's chest. He stops himself from gawking considering the fact you could park an eighteen wheeler on this thing, he even opens his mouth to say just that but then he feels Steve's heart beat, steady and pumping under his palm.

It's only slight considering the amount of muscle and thick bone in the way but he can feel it all the same and it's not stuttering and irregular. It's pumping blood, lots of blood wherever Steve needs it, constantly and in all the right places instead of spending most of its time in the lowest point of the body.

If Steve were to get sick this heart would help him get better instead of having to fight to keep itself working, and his new lungs might get congested but they wouldn't spasm every time he needed a breath of fresh air. Steve won't be laying in bed all winter sick and out of his mind with any and every illness that has always loved making his life a living hell.

Steve is healthy.

And suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Bucky clears his throat and blinks away any escaped liquid from his eyes, which are very pointedly looking towards his hand. Because if he looks up at Steve and sees those blue eyes all concerned, seeing right through him like they always do, he really will loose it.

"You're okay.." He mumbles mostly to himself.

It comes off as a statement more than anything and a chocked out one at that but Steve knows, because he always knows what Bucky is trying to get at. He places his hand over Bucky's wrist and just holds him, his hand is steady and must be magical because Bucky grows calm at the touch.

"I'm okay."

Feeling himself falter at the affirmation, he leans in, arms wrapping around the waist he could once circle completely with one arm. But he almost backs out as quickly as he started it, the foreign body giving the wrong signals, like hugging a coworker or a distant relative you see once a decade.

But taking a deep breath to centre himself, Steve smelled like he always did, plus the scent of cheap soap hardly lingering, faded from the long day they both just had.

And when he ran his hands over his back he could feel the familiar humps of his spine and count them all the same. Even Steve's hands find the same spot on Bucky's back as they always used to, where his ribs end and his back start to dip in at the start of his waist.

Bucky can still reach the hair at the base of Steve's head and run his fingers through it like he used to see Steve's ma do when they were young.

Now Steve sighs into the hug and Bucky squeezes tighter since he knows he won't be doing any damage. They stay like that for a long time in their own personal world, the centre of their own solar system, everything else moving around them, floating within their orbit.

When they pull back, Bucky's hands linger on Steve's waist for longer then they should and when he looks up Steve's eyes are so full of admiration but his nose and eyebrows are scrunched up like he's got something to say.

Bucky takes his hands back to his sides. "what?"

"We aren't going to leave each other again, okay?" He says it so sure, like they aren't going to be in the heat of battle every other day but Bucky wants it just as bad as he does so he nods and smiles.

"You're stuck with me pal, I'm not going anywhere"

#and then he fell of a train so yeah #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain America the first avenger #catfa #stucky #bringing stucky with me to my grave #40s stucky #drabble??#headcanon #ficlet perhaps

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derangedanomaly · 24 days

Note

Hi, was wondering if I can do another reqest! In this one, undertale, Underswap, horrortale, and underfell with a reader who is a doctor. Like, the best of thr best doctor. In this scenario, could you do one where reader comes home after a 17 hour shift and just grabs them, still in their work close, and just cuddles them where the bros are. No words, no noise, just grab, snuggle, sleep!

Hope you are having a good day!

MASTERLIST

THE BROTHERS X DOCTOR READER

(Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Horrortale)

UNDERTALE

You were tired. More so than often, and couldn't stand it anymore. You just want to go home, snatch your boyfriend, and relax under the covers.. it would ultimately be more rewarding than anything.

You sighed in relief when the clock on your wall signalled that it's the closing hour... Finally, you could leave. It's not like you hate your job, quite the opposite actually! But today just felt more like a chore...

SANS:

After you arrived home, you were met with the figure of Papyrus tending to the kitchen. "Y/N! WELCOME HOME!" You smiled tiredly at Papyrus. He was probably cooking up some Spaghetti. "Yeah, we ended a little earlier." You went into the living room and stood still, staring at the two figures lumped on it. Sans, laying the back of his head on the armrest of the couch, sleeping, and Frisk. They were staring at you with a small smile. You waved at them, then decided to finally let your mind just doze off...

You crashed onto Sans' lap, and hugged him close, closing your eyes.. yes, you missed this. Frisk seemed to be surprised at this sudden act of affection from you, as they gazed at you with opened mouth. You slowly felt your mind drift off before you succumbed to sleep.

Sans lazily opened one eye, staring at you on his lap. His cheeks gained a blueish color. Looks like his doctor worked themselves to the brim. He smiled even wider, if it was possible, and wrapped one arm around you, before deciding that it's just not enough, and bear hugged you.

Papyrus went into the room, about to announce that the dinner is ready, until gawking at you two. Him and Frisk shared glances, before he decided you needed to be alone. "Come On Frisk, Let's Go Eat Dinner.." he tried to be the quietest he can, as he took Frisk's hand and led them to the kitchen.

PAPYRUS:

You smiled after you arrived home and smelled Papyrus' food floating around the air.

He probably didn't heard you, because you did not receive any greeting, while you were taking off your boots. You went into the kitchen area, and saw Papyrus absolutely engulfed in his cooking. He's sometimes too cute...

He jumped a little when you wrapped your hands around him, hugging him from behind. "Y/N! I DIDN'T EVEN HEARD YOU!" Papyrus' turned around, and hugged you right back.

He picked you up, to hold you a little better. He seemed to beam with excitement when he hugged you. "HOW WAS WORK TODAY?" You hummed, tired just from the mention of today's work. "Tiring..." Papyrus had a worried face when he heard that, and fully faced you. "WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO TO BED? I CAN ALWAYS SUPPLY TODAY'S DINNER IN THE FRIDGE FOR YOU FOR LATER!" You only hummed, not really listening, as the thought of sleep covered your whole mind.

Papyrus was still talking, and you loved to listen to his ramblings! But not today. You cupped his skull, which made him immediately stop his constant rambling. "Oh.." he gazed into your eyes. You softly smiled and kissed his skull.

His whole face flushed orange, as he couldn't look at you with embarrassment. "H-heh...I....u-uhm..." This is probably the quietest you've ever heard him.

"Papyrus....." He was hooked on your words, staring back at you. "Let's go to bed.." "Of course!" He was quick to listen to your words, and left the kitchen, with you still in his arms.

UNDERFELL

You were so goddamn tired. You just couldn't stand it. All you wanted was to just go home, and crash your boyfriend with hugs and cuddles.. it would definitely be more rewarding than anything.

You sighed in relief when the clock on your wall signalled that it's the closing hour... Fucking finally, you could leave. It's not like you hate your job, quite the opposite actually! But today just felt more like a pain in the ass...

FELL:

You yawned when you reached your home. You can't wait to reach your boyfriend... You passed through the door, greeting Papyrus who sat on the couch reading a magazine of some sort. He nodded at you, but quickly resumed his reading.

You went up the stairs, reaching your boyfriend's bedroom. Sans jumped up when you abruptly opened the door. "JESUS! My god sweetheart... Don't do that." You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Sans' face. "Sorry...not." he playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled.

He looked at you with anticipation when you went up to him and sat on his lap. His skull flashed red, as he grinned flirty at you. "Shush...long day.." was all you had to say for Sans to lay with you on his bed, your body on top of his.

You laid for a bit, with comfortable silence...until- "How are you?" "Goddamnit Sans, I just wanna sleep. Shush..." He laughed lightly at your attitude, as he wrapped his arms around you securely.

EDGE:

You yawned when you passed through the big door, your eyes already looking for a certain skeleton. You just can't wait to be crushed with cuddles. You beamed when you saw him sat on the couch, reading a magazine.

"Papyrus.." this got Papyrus' attention, as he looked at you with happiness. "Ah! MY NUMBER ONE!" You giggled at his silliness, and engulfed him in a hug. Papyrus seemed to quickly melt into the warm hug, as he contently sighed.

"A LONG DAY, HUH?" You only nodded, already feeling yourself drift off. He chuckled at your tired state, as he let you cling to him. "Sweet Dreams.."

UNDERSWAP

You were so utterly exhausted... Today was a hard one.. You just want to go home, snatch your boyfriend, and relax under the covers.. it would be so much more rewarding than anything.

SWAP:

You didn't even step a foot into your house, when you were suddenly tackled by your favorite skeleton. Sans!

You smiled tiredly at him, which he returned with a concerned look. "Welcome home, Y/N! I figured you'd be tired after work, so.. I made you Tacos!" Your mouth watered at the mention of Sans' cooking.. especially Tacos. They were seriously so good!

"That's really nice of you, Sans! But can we just...." He was looking at you expectant. "Lay down?" His whole face beamed at you as he quickly nodded. "Of course!"

You flashed red when he picked you up as if you weighted nothing, and went with you upstairs. What a sweetie...

CARROT:

You yelped when you almost tripped over the laying figure of Papyrus, near the door.. how can he just fall asleep so easily like this? You sighed, not having enough energy to scold him. You're that Sans is gonna do that anyways when he finds out.

"Oh, hey Sweetpea. You're back early." Papyrus lazily smiled at you. You nodded, sighing yet again. "Yeah...we had a short day today, I'm really tired..." Papyrus jumped up when he heard that. "Then let's relax together!" He seemed almost ecstatic, when he threw you over his shoulder, making his way upstairs.

You giggled at his eagerness. "I was afraid you'd never ask.." you could almost doze off just by laying on his shoulder.. he then gently laid you down on his bed, laying on top of you and hugging you close. His cheeks were painted with an orange color, as he just relished in the feeling of your body against his. "Sweet dreams..."

HORRORTALE

Work in Horrortale was so unbelievably harder....you felt like dying right here right now. Today was especially hard.. You just want to go home, and hide under the covers.. it would definitely ease you more.

You let out a sigh of relief when the clock on your wall signalled that it's the closing hour... Finally, you could leave. It's not like you hate your job, it's just that at the surface... it's not as dangerous as in the underground

HORROR:

You went out of the hospital, about to leave, but was stopped by the looming figure of Sans. He gazed at you with a permanent smile etched on his face. Despite the creepiness this giant always held with him, you felt more than relieved to see him here. You ran up to him and crushed him with your hug. "Sans! You came to walk me home?" Sans nodded, and carefully returned you your hug. He still felt like as if you were made from glass... The thought that Horror doesn't want to hurt you made you feel butterflies.

During your walk, you explained him how much tired you feel today, you just wanted to lay down, and sleep. After your brief explanation, Sans suddenly picked you up from the ground, and sat you on his shoulders. Your cheeks flushed red. "Sans..you don't have to." He shook his head. "You're tired...sleep.." he spoke as he led the whole way home, seems like you were too tired to deny him, as you felt yourself drifting away..

The last thing you heard Horror mumble, before succumbing to sleep, was; "Cute.."

AXE:

You beamed up at Papyrus, when you saw him standing outside the hospital, waiting for you. "Paps!" You went off, running towards him. "HUMAN!" He extended his arms, as you crushed into his hug. How lovely was it to see him!

"I DECIDES TO ACCOMPANY YOU ON YOUR WAY HOME, AS I'M AFRAID OF ANYTHING HAPPENING TO YOU, WHILE WALKING THROUGH HERE." You couldn't help the blush creeping up on your cheeks, when you heard how considerate he was. That's Paps alright. "Aww, thanks Paps." He nodded, taking a hold of your hand, and walking towards your destination.

"I'm tired Papyrus...today was really stressful..." Papyrus frowned at the sound of that, as he thought about the solution to this problem.. oh, he came up with an idea! Truly a brilliant idea! Unless you won't like it... "WELL IN THAT CASE- WOULD YOU LIKE TO START WITH YOUR SLEEP RIGHT NOW?" You looked at him in confusion. Right now? But you're in the middle of walking..

You quickly figured out how Papyrus meant it, when he picked you up bridal style, and carried you all the way home, in his arms... You won't lie. It was probably the most comfortable sleep you've had in awhile.

#undertale #undertale fandom #sans undertale #sans x reader #horror sans x reader #horror papyrus x reader #swap sans x reader #swap papyrus x reader #fell papyrus x reader #fell sans x reader #papyrus x reader

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yeoosaangg · 7 months

Text

Ride || Kinktober - Day 1

pairing ▸ kim hongjoong × f!reader

now playing ▸ ride - somo

⤷ ❝i'm gon' take care of your body. i'll be gentle, don't you scream.❞

genre ▸ idol au, established relationship, smut

warnings ▸ virginity loss, fingering, corruption kink, penetration, hair pulling, biting, marking, swearing, praise, slight degradation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

--------

It's been two months since you last saw your boyfriend.

When you started dating, you understood the implications of such a relationship - the many lonely nights away from each other - but this was just too much.

Insecurities started to settle in as he stopped answering your phone calls and messages. Looking at online comments didn't help you either.

「joong's been fucking, hasn't he?」

「why ateez are getting bitches: a thread」

「and when i give hongjoong that double twist, gawk gawk 3000? THEN WHAT??」

These types of comments usually make you laugh, but you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach looking at them now.

What if Hongjoong is tired of waiting for you to be intimate with him? What if he's secretly sleeping with women behind your back?

That'd explain his lack of communication, right?

Maybe if you were ready to take that next step, he wouldn't leave you.

So you find yourself stripping out of your clothes, only staying in your underwear. You grab one of Hongjoong's hoodies and slip it on.

You inhale his scent, pressing your thighs together in anticipation. You've never actually done this before either, so it's a bit exciting.

You settle yourself in the middle of your shared bed, opening your legs wide. Your hand slips into the white fabric of your thong, middle finger rubbing your clit.

You arch your back, head against the pillow at the feeling.

You whimper your boyfriend's name, pumping one finger inside your dripping cunt. You add another, adding to your pleasure.

Y/n: Fuck. Hongjoong, please.

You add a third finger, feeling stuffed.

It feels so good, you don't hear the front door opening.

You use your thumb to stimulate your clit while pumping harshly into your wet pussy.

Y/n: Gonna cum!

Hongjoong's name slips passed your lips several times, your breathing erratic from your orgasm.

You lay back, yours legs slightly shaking. That was the first time you've ever came. It felt liberating.

Hongjoong: What a beautiful surprise you had for me, princess.

You sit up so fast, staring at your boyfriend with wide eyes and flushed out cheeks.

Y/n: B-Baby? What are you doing here?

Hongjoong: Our tour ended yesterday. Just got back an hour ago.

Y/n: Oh! Welcome home, baby.

You get up, hugging him tightly. You hide in his neck, trying to change the subject.

He had other plans, though. His hands cupped your ass cheeks and lifted you up. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist.

Hongjoong: Look at you trying to play innocent. You were a greedy little whore, screaming my name just a second ago.

You whine, unconsciously grinding down on his growing bulge. The feeling has you gasping, pressing your forehead against his.

Y/n: Missed you so much. Felt sad.

He frowns, sitting against the headboard while you straddle his lap.

Hongjoong: Why were you sad, precious?

Y/n: You were ignoring me. Got insecure.

Hongjoong: Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I never meant to neglect you on purpose. I just wanted to surprise you when I came back.

His left hand massages your ass while the other caresses your lower back.

Y/n: Need you to touch me.

He smiles, kissing your lips repeatedly.

Hongjoong: I already am, beautiful.

You whine, too shy to say what you want out loud. You hide in the neck again, feeling him chuckle.

Y/n: Sexually, Joongie.

Oh?

Hongjoong grips your hips tight when you start moving them against his. He needs to be one-hundred percent sure you're ready for this.

Hongjoong: Princess, I need you to tell me exactly what you want. I don't want you to push yourself beyond your comfort zone.

Y/n: Want you inside me. Want you to be my first.

The sound of your whiny voice almost has him coming untouched. You sound so beautiful to him.

He wants to ruin you.

Hongjoong: As you wish, princess.

He guides your hips to grind against him as he devours your lips. You gasp and moan into his mouth, surprised by his aggressiveness.

It's so hot.

He trails his kisses down, sucking on your skin. He watches the marks form, moaning at the sight.

Hongjoong: Turn around for me, baby.

You do as your told, laying back against his chest. He slides his hand into your underwear and you roll your eyes back when his finger slides into you.

Hongjoong: You missed me this much? I can practically feel how much your cunt is throbbing for me.

Y/n: So good! Want more.

Who is he to deny you?

He adds two more fingers, making you choke on your moan.

Hongjoong: Fuck, baby. You're so tight. I wonder if you'll even be able to take my cock.

Y/n: Can I- Oh God, can I cum?

Hongjoong: Go ahead, angel.

You feel your orgasm wash over you, his fingers still pumping into you at a rapid pace.

Y/n: Too much!

Hongjoong: You can take it, love. Need you absolutely soaking before I slide my cock into your needy cunt.

Your legs shake as your third orgasm hits. You scream out his name in desperation. You want him inside you so fucking bad.

He pushes you forward, turning you on your back. He discards your thong, leaving you in his hoodie.

Hongjoong: You look so adorably fuckable like this. Gonna fuck you while you wear my hoodie.

He lines his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing inside you. You whimper, feeling a tight pressure in between your legs.

Hongjoong: You're taking me so well, baby. My good girl.

You bite your lips, keeping your noises at bay.

He kisses your face, letting you adjust to his size. He starts leaving more hickeys down your neck and collarbone.

Y/n: Move please.

He slides out, slamming back into you.

Y/n: Fuck!

He starts with slow, but deep thrusts. Every stroke has both of you moaning. He can feel your walls squeezing around him.

Hongjoong: You feel so good, baby. Look at you taking me in so well. Should I go faster?

Y/n: Yes! Oh God, yes!

He starts pounding into you, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he fucks you.

Drool slides down your face, but you don't care. You let him do whatever he wants as long as his cock continues to fuck you dumb.

His lips kiss down to your neck again, but instead of leaving more hickeys, he starts to bite down.

Y/n: Hongjoong! So fucking good.

He licks over his teeth marks, admiring his work.

Hongjoong: Such a good slut. Letting me mark you, baby.

He sits back on his feet, pushing your legs to your chest and turning you around. The new position has Hongjoong fucking you deeper than you thought possible.

Your face is pressed down on the bed, his fingers lacing through your hair. He pulls your head back, using your hair to rock you against his cock.

Hongjoong: Baby, you're doing so good. Making me feel good.

Y/n: Gonna cum.

Hongjoong: Hold it, baby. Let me watch your swollen cunt swallow my cock. So perfect for me.

His free hand slips under the hoodie to fondle your breasts, making you cry. You don't know if you can hold it any longer.

Hongjoong: You're gonna come for me in 5...

He moves his hand down to rub at your clit. You scream, wanting to release already.

Hongjoong: 4... 3...

Y/n: Please. Oh, fuck!

He slaps your clit, making you jerk back into him. The movement only added to your desperation.

Hongjoong: 2... 1. Cum for me, princess.

You scream, clawing at the sheets as your orgasm hits you harder this time.

You try to catch your breath, but your boyfriend continues fucking you into overstimulation. You continue to drool on the sheets, feeling his thrusts getting sloppy.

He pulls out, pumping his cock until he cums all over your back.

Both of your heavy breaths can be heard in the room. He moves away from you, heading into the bathroom.

Y/n: Where you going?

Hongjoong: Just went to get a bath started, precious. I'm not leaving you.

Y/n: Oh, okay.

He gently scoops you in his arms, setting you down on the cold sink. You whine at the feeling, earning lots of kisses.

Hongjoong: Sorry, love. Was I too rough?

Y/n: You were perfect. I'm glad my first time was with you.

Hongjoong: Thank you for trusting me with something as precious as your virginity, Y/n. I love you.

Y/n: I love you, too.

---

a/n: the things i'd let this man do to me... remember, everyone: delulu is the solulu! lmao, thanks for reading ‹𝟹

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vodika-vibes · 18 days

Note

Hello lovely! Could I please request Ruby for Dogma x female reader where they both have huge crushes on each other, but are too shy to say anything; one day after Dogma comes back from a long tour and she just decides to go for it and she glomps him, kissing him on the lips over and over again while his brother's are just standing there, jealously gawking lol. I hope this inspires you and I hope that what you're coming down with doesn't last long!🌼

Take A Chance

Summary: You’ve been crushing on Dogma for, what feels like, years. But you’ve always been too nervous to actually put your feelings into words. But, after your closest friend tells you that she’s going to invite Dogma into her bed when he returns from his deployment, you decide to take a chance.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x Reader

Word Count: 852

Warnings: Some angst at the beginning, but there's a happy ending. Also, reader has a toxic friend

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I didn't follow your prompt to the letter, but I think I'm happy with this, so I hope you are too!

Anxiety twists your stomach as you lean against the flowering tree on the base that the 501st call home when they’re not deployed.

The Resolute docked about an hour ago. It’s only a matter of time before they actually come back to the base, and that’s the thing that is making you so anxious.

Not that they’re coming back, no.

But the fact that you’re going to see Dogma.

Kind Dogma. Handsome Dogma.

Dogma, who you’ve been crushing on for months. Who you’ve been too shy to confess to, because he might not feel the same.

Dogma, who your best friend decided that she was going to try and bed, even though she knows about your crush on him. Her argument was that since you haven’t said anything yet, then he’s free game.

You warned her that if she did this, she would lose your friendship forever. And she just didn’t care.

So that definitely isn’t helping your anxiety. It’s not like you have so many friends that you can afford to lose any of them…even bad friends are better than no friends, right?

You lift your head when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots on the paved road, and a small smile crosses your lips when you see the 501st trekking back to their barracks.

Knowing them, most of them are going to change and hit up the bars or go and find their partners.

They deserve it.

And then there’s Dogma, talking to Tup, joking about something based on the wry grin on Tup’s face, and your heart lurches. You love him. You want to be his and him to be yours and…

And…

And you can’t do it.

Your hands curl into fists and you drop your gaze away from the man that you love so much.

He deserves…more. So much more.

You jump when a pair of boots stop in front of you, “Credit for your thoughts?”

“They’re hardly worth that much.” You reply automatically, before you lift your gaze. Dogma is standing in front of you, concern written clearly on his face, “Ah…welcome back, Dogma.”

“Thanks.” His dark eyes scan your face, “What’s wrong, you look upset.” His brow furrowed, “Did someone threaten you?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just…coming to a realization about myself, is all.”

“Wanna share?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that it upset you.”

You hesitate, “Well…” You fold your arms, “There’s a guy-” Dogma’s expression twitches slightly, but he just motions for you to continue, “And I just realized that I’m never going to be good enough for him.”

“If he thinks that then he’s a karking idiot.” Dogma replies, “You’re amazing.”

“No, he didn’t…” You hesitate, “That was me coming to that realization, not…” You sigh, “Like I said, not important.”

Dogma is quiet for a moment, “Well,” He finally says, “Since you have this…guy,” His tone is odd, but he continues before you can question it, “I guess you’re not interested in getting a drink or something with me?”

“...what?”

“Like, caf. Or maybe something else, since you don’t drink caf.” Dogma adds, and then he flashes a wry smile, “Sorry, I had a plan, but now that I’m standing here, I can’t quite remember it.”

“A plan?”

“For asking you out. On a date.” He rubs the back of his neck, “But, you just said there’s a guy, so I guess you’re not interested-”

You stare at him, blankly for a moment. And then you step into his space and press your lips against his in an awkward kiss. You pull away quickly, and Dogma stares at you, as though his brain needs a moment to reboot.

He stares at you for long enough that you shift nervously, and avert your gaze, “U-um…I shouldn’t have-”

You’re not able to finish your sentence before Dogma’s lips are hot against yours, and he has you pressed against the tree behind you. Unlike your kiss, which was hesitant and very chaste, his kiss is sure and quickly becomes passionate.

And you’re helpless but to match his intensity, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and he pins you against the tree.

There’s a loud whistle and a shout of, “Get it, Dogma!” Which causes him to break the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away, instead he presses his forehead against yours, and he raises his hand to flip off whichever brother that was.

There’s the sound of laughter, and then the audience disperses, not that you notice that, as your focus is locked on Dogma, who has all of his attention focused on you.

“So,” Dogma says as he leans in slightly, his lips hovering just over yours, “I’m the guy?”

“You’re the guy.” You agree.

Dogma exhales slowly, his breath fanning across your face, “Good.” He breathes out.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His gaze drops to your lips, “So…that date?”

“I’d like to go get some caf with you, Dogma.”

“Then I’ll go change and we can do that.” He murmurs, “But…first…” He trails off as his lips catch yours one more time.

And, eagerly, you kiss him back.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year

Text

SECRET RECIPE

A/N: its out last sunday fic of fanficmas! still working on the second christmas fic, i got into a bit of a delay but im hoping to finish it on time!

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

SUMMARY: Christmas time brings some worries and surprises and of course lots of love in the life of Nan and Harry.

MORE FROM THE NAN&HARRY UNIVERSE

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

Harry’s in the middle of recording a verse for a new song he’s been working on for the past days when the music cuts off and he looks at the technician through the window with a confused expression.

“What happened?” he asks, pulling the headphones off. Jim, the technician presses a button and speaks into the mic that carries sound into the booth.

“Man, your phone is blowing up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just call them back,” he shrugs.

“It’s Y/N. She’s called like six times in the past two minutes.”

His stomach churns.

He’s fast to exit the booth, fetching his phone from one of the seats. You know he’s at the studio and wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.

“Let’s take five,” he says, unlocking his phone and opening his call log, seeing all the missed calls from you. Jim knows it’s his cue to leave, he walks out without a word as Harry dials your number, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Harry!” you answer out of breath.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Harry, it’s not me, it’s Nan,” you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m on my way,” he says, packing up his things immediately.

Jim doesn’t fuss when Harry ends the session early. He jumps into his car and you tell him what happened as he heads to the hospital as well. Nan apparently went on a date and out of all the activities she could have done with her date, she went skating.

“What was she thinking?!” he snaps, smacking his hand against the steering wheel when he has to stop at a red light.

“I just arrived, how far are you?”

“Ten minutes away.”

“Alright, meet you here.”

Harry soon arrives at the hospital and parks his car down in a frenzy, rushing inside. The nurse behind the desk recognizes him right away, but before she could start fangirling, you come up to him running.

“Hey! There you are,” you exhale, hugging him tight.

“How is she?”

“She fractured her hip, can you believe it?”

“For real, I love her more than anything, but sometimes she can act like a child,” he shakes his head in disapproval.

Walking down the hallways you stop at room 102 and Harry follows you inside. Nan is right there, lying in bed, chatting with the nurse, already telling her about recipes and gardening.

“I promise you Sweetheart, that’s the key to the perfect banana bread!” she explains and her face lights up when she sees the two of you flood into the room. “Harry! So good to see you!”

“Nan, what did you do?” he questions right away, ignoring the way the nurse blushes upon seeing him before walking out of the room.

“Oh, nothing crazy, don’t worry about me!”

“Skating at your age is actually crazy, Nan,” you shake your head, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt her.”

“Aye, watch your mouth!” she wiggles a finger at you, but you just roll your eyes at her.

“Let’s start at the very beginning. You were on a date?!” Harry gawks at her, standing over you. Most of his worry is gone, seeing Nan be her usual sweet but sassy self.

“Oh, we’re not talking about that,” Nan waves around, but there’s no way Harry will just drop it like that.

“No, no, no, you’re not getting away with it! You didn’t tell us! Who was he anyway?”

“It’s none of your business! I’m a big girl!” she jokes.

“Yes, but going on a date is something you share with your family, don’t you think?” you ask, giving her hand a squeeze. “You demanded to know everything about my first date with Harry, it’s not fair you keep things like this from us!”

“Frank’s daughter works at the flower shop on Ernest Road. I’ve run into him several times before and we’ve had some pleasant conversations. He asked me out and I said yes, that’s it,” she shrugs, fixing her hair just to avoid looking at you or Harry.

“And you didn’t have a better idea than skating? Nan, you have to be careful!”

“I used to be a great skater in high school!” she protests like a little kid, Harry needs to bite a smile back.

“Oh my God,” you pinch the bride of your nose. “I’m gonna get you something to drink. Harry, stay with her so she doesn’t go skydiving or something,” you mumble as you walk out of the room.

“I’m kind of offended, Nan,” Harry places a hand over his chest, stepping closer to her bed. “I thought I was your guy.”

“Oh, Harry!” she sighs. “You know you’re my number one,” she chuckles, a slight blush tinting her cheeks that just makes Harry even more confident about himself.

“Apparently Frank took my place!” he scoffs dramatically. “I need to meet him, Nan. I’m not gonna let him just steal you away like that, I have to make sure you’re in good hands!”

“Please, don’t act like I’m getting engaged!” she chuckles. “It was just a date!”

“Yeah, but then more dates come and next thing we know you’re walking down the aisle!”

Nan lets out a belly laugh that soon turns into a wince and Harry instantly regrets joking around.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she assures him when he moves to check her. “Harry, I’m just looking for some company, I won’t remarry.”

“I know,” his gaze softens, sitting down to the edge of her bed. “And I want you to have fun, but you need to be more careful. You’re sturdy, but not indestructible, okay?”

“I know,” she sighs. “Just wanted to have some fun like when I was younger.”

“We’ll find another way that doesn’t include fractured hips,” he smirks at her.

Harry has been MIA for hours. It’s not unusual when he’s at the studio, but you know for a fact he has the day off, so why isn’t he answering your texts?

You keep wondering as your work day drags by and when you finally head home, you try to call him again. It rings and rings and you’re starting to get anxious that something might have happened to him. When you think it will go unanswered the ringing finally breaks and a familiar voice answers, but it doesn’t belong to your fiancé.

“Y/N? Hi!” Nan’s upbeat voice welcomes you and relief washes over you.

“Nan? Would you mind telling where my man is?” you chuckle as you get into the car. The phone connects and the answer comes through the speakers.

“Oh, he is just up on my roof!” she says as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“What?” you chuckle in disbelief. “Why?”

“He’s helping me decorate! Showed up here this morning, he’s been doing all the work all day!”

“Oh God, of course he did,” you chuckle.

It’s been a week since Nan’s skating accident and she’s been miserable because she can’t get around like she usually does. She has someone from the family checking up on her every day and a nurse comes by in the morning and in the night too, but you all know how much she hates to be in need of help. You keep telling her it’s just temporary, she’s been having a great recovery, but she needs to be more patient with herself.

Harry must have wanted to make her feel better, she’s been moping about not being able to decorate like she usually does, so your fiancé probably took matters into his own hands.

Without thinking twice, you head over to Nan’s place to check up on both of them. When you arrive, you’re glad to see all the décor Nan whips out every year. Lights are running along the edge of the roof, huge candy canes are peeking out of the ground in the garden up front and garlands are snaking up the columns of the front porch. And the last touch? Santa’s sleigh is on the roof, Nan’s favorite décor every kid adores around the neighborhood.

You knock on the front door with a goofy grin, looking at the snowman ornament hanging on it. The door flies open and you’re met with your lover.

“Hey there,” he smirks and pulling you inside he greets you with a big kiss on your cold lips.

“Hi! Nan said you’ve turned into her little elf for the day,” you chuckle, enjoying the warmth inside as Harry takes your coat.

“I did the best I could,” he smirks shyly.

“Y/N! Hi!” Nan cheers from her armchair, her cane resting against the side of it. Before she could try to push herself up to greet you, which for sure she plans to, you rush over and plant a smooching kiss to her cheek, stopping her from moving.

“Stay, Nan. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had a great day with Harry. Did you see the décor outside?” she beams.

“I did, looks great,” you smile at her.

Harry makes some tea and the three of you sit by the fireplace. Nan is obviously happy to have company and you’re glad to be spending time with her. She really scared you with her little accident earlier, she got lucky, it could have turned out to be way worse.

“Alright, you two head home and be together,” she sighs, checking the time and seeing how late it has gotten.

“We’re happy to be here, Nan,” Harry smiles, taking her empty mug and heading to the kitchen to clean up.

“Y/N, give me that box over there,” she gestures at a little wooden box on the shelves next to the fireplace. You obey and hand her the box, watching her dig into the stack of papers inside. “Here, this is for you,” she hands one over and you take it, scanning over it curiously.

“What’s thi— Oh. This is… This is your secret recipe. Your gingersnap cookies…”

“I want you to have it.”

“But why? You haven’t given it to any of my cousins yet,” you look at her with wide eyes.

This recipe comes from Nan’s grandma, so it’s been in the family for a long time. Every woman eventually gets it, your mom has it too, but she can only pass it on to the generation coming after you, that’s the rule. Nan hasn’t passed it on to anyone and you and your cousins have been wondering who’ll get it first.

She chose you. Though you would have sworn your cousin Riley would be the first, she is the first who got pregnant and now has two kids.

“Because what you and Harry have reminds me the most of what I had with Steven. Riley’s husband would have never spent the day here, climbing on my roof and hanging ornaments. And Lydia… God, I’m afraid she will never settle!” she chuckles, bringing up your female cousins. “You two… are something truly special and soon you’ll finally get married. I want you to know how to make it by the time you’ll have babies.”

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you lean closer and give her a hug.

“Thank you, Nan,” you whisper, kissing her cheek right when Harry walks back in. He looks startled to see you crying.

“Woah, did I miss something?” he cautiously asks, but you just shake your head chuckling.

“Everything is perfect, don’t worry,” Nan smiles up at him. You give Harry a look that tells him to just drop it and so he nods.

The nurse arrives to help Nan get ready for bed when you leave and you hug her just a few moments longer than you usually do before walking out.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Harry asks when you’re home, standing side by side in the bathroom, doing your usual night time routine.

“Nan gave me her gingersnap cookie recipe,” you say with a smile as you brush your hair, looking at him from the mirror. For a moment, he rakes his mind to figure out what it means and when he does, his eyes go wide.

“Oh! You’re the first one then!” he beams at you proudly.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “She said that what we have reminds her of what she had with Pa.”

“That’s very sweet,” he smiles, brushing a hand across your back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“She also brought up us having babies, I think she is getting impatient,” you add with a little laugh as you turn around and lean against the sink to face him.

“Wow, she can never have enough!” he grins. “I got comments on proposing to you for months and now that we have the date reserved she found something else to poke me about!”

“She’s not rushing us, you know. Just wants to see us become parents.”

“Soon,” he smiles and stepping closer his hands find your waist. “First, let’s make us official. Then we can move on to baby making.”

“So… that’s the plan?” you tilt your head to the side.

“Is it not?”

“I don’t know,” you chew your bottom lip.

“Y/N? Want to share something with me?” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was just thinking… We’re getting married in February. It’s not that far away, maybe we could… start trying sooner? It might not happen right away and if it does, it wouldn’t even show at the wedding…”

For some reason you feel so nervous about proposing your idea. You’ve talked about trying for a baby next year, you’re very much on the same page so even if he says no for now, you’d definitely start in a few months. You just figured that maybe you could start sooner.

Harry gently cradles your face in his hands, a tiny smile tugging on the edges of his mouth.

“So… we should just drop the pills, hm?”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, only if you’re okay with it. We don’t have to if you—“

He presses his lips to your lips, melting away your nervousness instantly as he kisses you softly but passionately.

“I’m more than okay, Y/N. I know you’re it for me, we don’t have to wait for a certain date to start trying.”

You can’t stop your growing smile as you look up at him.

“Okay. No more pills then,” you bite into your bottom lip.

“And a lot of baby making,” he smirks cockily, sweeping off your feet and carrying you into the bedroom. You’re a giggling mess as he throws you to the mattress, but they soon die down when he gets on top of you, occupying your lips with something much more exciting.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#fanficmas #fanficmas 2022 #fanficmas2022 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2022 #harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #nan and harry #the nan and harry universe

705 notes · View notes

marksbear · 1 year

Note

Look I've been simping for könig from cod for a while and I was thinking if you can write for him. So Dom male reader and könig are making out which is going to lead to something else but then he stops to go get changed. And it's like the smallest lingerie set reader has ever seen in his life. It barely covers up his nipples and is holding on for dear life on his big chest covered in scars from his battles in the past years which makes them pop even more around his body. The panties just don't even cover nothing on his ass and reader is amazed. Which leads to reader asking him to turn around and then throws a pillow behind him so he has to pick it up and show off his behind when he has to pick it up and reader is loving how he looks. Which leads to reader asking him if he can fuck his brains out and then könig just starts screaming in pleasure in his native language from how good he feels. I know it's alot but I've been on simp phase for him the most out of the rest of the group.-🐻‍❄️

It's my first time writing for König so have a bit of mercy on me! And also i'm Brazilian and Scottish so I don't really know German too well. BUT hope you enjoy the fic my friend!🐻‍❄

König x dom male reader

könig towers over Y/n following behind him going into their shared room.

The two can finally spend time with one another after these missions keep on stacking and stacking.

Once they finally arrive Y/n unlocked the door opening wide turning around to see his nervous boyfriend. "Stop acting so nervous. You've been here dozens of times." Y/n says trying to reassure his boyfriend. König mumbles something under his breath before ducking his head going inside. "What was that big boy?" Y/n questions hearing his boyfriend mumble something under his breath. "Kann ich dich küssen?" König asks pointing at Y/n's lips.

"Yes baby. You can kiss me." Y/n gives his permission.

König moves his mask up, so his lips are visible and kisses Y/n deeply. The two share innocent kisses back and forth with full passion and gentleness. Until Y/n licks König's lips. König thinks for a while trying to remember what that means until he opens his mouth. Y/n immediately pushes his tongue inside of König's mouth explore every single inch while König moves his tongue everywhere Y/n's tongue is going.

Y/n pulls away gasping for air, but he couldn't take in much air by König diving his tongue inside Y/n's mouth. The two tongues fight for dominance, but König ultimately ends up losing whining and whimpering in Y/n's mouth.

Y/n's pulls away gasping for air before turning around going into the bedroom while König chases him like a lost puppy. "Meine Liebe!" König shouts after him catching Y/n's attention. "Yes baby?" Y/n answers turning around before sitting on the edge of the bed. König points at the bathroom. "I-I'm going to get changed!" Before Y/n could respond König dashes into the bathroom.

Y/n sits on the bed taking off his clothes until hes only in his underwear waiting for his boyfriend to come out. Time flies by and Y/n lays down on the bed scrolling through his phone until he hears the bathroom door click open.

Putting the phone down Y/n sits up watching the door fully open. "Oh my fucking god..." Y/n trails off gawking at his boyfriends body.

König squirms feelings Y/n's eyes go everywhere. König's hard cock poking out of the panties while the bra part of the lingerie barley holding on and barley covering his hard nipples. Y/n stares at his boyfriends scarred chest and yes down the rest of the beautiful scars littered across his huge body. Even his masks are the same color of the lingerie

"Baby. Can you do something for me?" Y/n asks getting a nod yes from König.

Y/n throws a pillow behind König and points at it. "Can you please get it?" König mumbles something from under his breath before turning around and bending down to get the pillow. "Jesus König the lingerie is so small on you I love it." Y/n praises feeling his own cock hardened.

König walks over to Y/n giving him the pillow. "Good job baby." Y/n says taking the pillow before setting it down where the others are at.

"Let me fuck your brains out baby." Y/n suggests pulling König on the bed and getting on top of him. König gives a weak nod yes giving Y/n his permission. "Gonna fuck you so good baby~" Y/n runs his hands up and down groping König's chest. Y/n trails his hands down massaging and lightly smacking some spots before going to the panties.

Y/n stares at König's hard cock poking out of the panties only some of it is covered by the panties. "Oh...You were prepping yourself in the bathroom?" Y/n asks already knowing the answer moving the panties to the side looking at the leaking lube on König's hole.

"Mhm... Ja ich war." König admits with a whimper. "Gonna fuck you until your stupid." Y/n says with a fake warning tone before sliding off his underwear letting his hard cock spring free. König mouth waters seeing Y/n's hard cock. "Bitte beeil dich! Bitte gib es mir!~" König begs wiggling his ass a little feeling impatient. Y/n rolls his eyes and angles his tip to König's wet hole. "What did you prep with?" Y/n says with a smirk from stalling. "F-fingers!" König shouts with a whine. "Y/n! Please hurry-- aaAhhH~ fuCk!~" König moans out feeling the tip of Y/n's cock inside of him.

König places both of his hands on Y/n's shoulder with a tight grips as Y/n only fucks him with the tip. Slowly Y/n's begins to pick up the pace snapping his hips back and forth burying his cock deep inside König. König wraps his legs around Y/n's waist holding him closer as Y/n fuck him senseless.

Y/n abuses König's hole thrusting in and out of him at a fast pace. "Scheiße! Oh Scheiße! Bitte fick mich härter!" König screams out with a moan. Y/n gives in to König's pleas and fucks him merciless while his thrust aiming for König's sensitive prostate. Once Y/n's tip of his cock graze König's prostate the big man loses his shit."So gut! Du fühlst dich so gut an! Fick genau dort! genau dort! Bitte fick mich!"

Some of the words Y/n didn't even know a clue what he was saying were replaced with moans and whimpering.

König takes Y/n's by his face yanking his face up before pulling him for a kiss even though he still is wearing his mask. "kommen! Ich werde kommen! Oh Scheiße, ich komme!" König screams out throwing his head back as he cums hard getting his panties wet and sticky while some of his load gets on his stomach. Y/n forgets all bout König's pleasure and begins to fuck him at a animistic pace with wet skin slapping, groans, moans filling the room. It isn't long when Y/n cums deep inside König's wet and hot hole.

König whines and screams out words that don't even sound right as he calms down from his high. König's whole body ached and sting.

König tries to keep his eyes open but fails falling limp on the bed.

By the time the German was awake he had on a different small lingerie. König looks around for his boyfriend. He gets up and looks around for him in the house he finds Y/n cooking and cleaning for him.

"You passed out after the first round. I mean I kinda hoped you'd would since I fucked you senseless." Y/n says half jokingly.

"You had gotten the lingerie dirty, so I went and bought you a different one but even smaller. Hope you like it."

THE END

#könig call of duty #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #König x male reader #könig x reader #modern warfare x male reader #modern warfare König #modern warfare #modern warfare König x male reader #the bear club #x male reader #male reader

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lost-between-letters · 1 year

Text

Black Lipstick

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (she/her)

Requested by: @animealways

Warnings: outsider pov (Enid's), my attempt at humour, excessive use of italics

Word Count: 618

Summary: Wednesday blushing ? Surely the world was ending

A/N: requests for the Wednesday characters are still open :)

Enid had just walked past the single most fascinating conversation of her life and Wednesday had to hear about it. Now.

With a spring to her step - excited to describe the whatever-that-had-been between Xavier and Ajax in excruciating detail to her roommate (and best friend - they totally were besties even if Wednesday refused to use that word) - Enid barged into their room. "Wednes, you won't believe-"

And cut short in her tracks.

There on her black bedsheets sat Wednesday, hands folded in her lap. Perfectly prim, expression schooled into an annoyed scowl. Face redder than the red thread she had used on her Ted Bundy Boards.

Oh, this was going to be so interesting.

"Are you blushing ?" Okay, that wasn't the best approach, Enid had to admit. She could have at least stopped gawking.

Well, what was done was done, she guessed.

Wednesday raised her chin higher and stared her down. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, you so are hiding something," Enid said and pointed a fake accusatory finger at her, "is it because you ran up here and refuse to admit that you forgot something?"

"Obviously not." Wednesday shook her head, feigning nonchalance.

Key word: feigning.

If there was one trait Enid shared with her wolf, it was that if she got her nose buried in something, she wasn't letting go. "Maybe you got some alone time that I interrupted?"

"Enid." There was that stern voice again.

She was definitely getting closer.

Enid laughed gleefully.

"Please tell me that you finally realised your massive crush on Y/N," Enid was shooting in the dark, she knew it but someone had to get these two together. And who else than her? "Wait wait wait. Is this where you're waiting nervously to actually tell me how right I am?"

A snort was her answer.

Not from Wednesday.

No, her roommate was still scowling at her.

Though that turned into a brief flash of panic when Enid crouched down on the floor. The noise had definitely come from there.

"Please tell me that this is who I'm thinking it is."

Y/N rolled out from under the bed, laughs shaking her body.

"Yes!! Finally!!" Enid was not doing a victory dance. No, she was only ... showing her happiness for her friends.

For some reason, that made Y/N laugh even harder.

Even Wednesday was smiling. Down at Y/N (her girlfriend, Enid realised at the sweet intimacy she could see floating around the two of them), who she helped getting up from the ground and down on the bed next to her.

Only then, Enid saw the black lipstick stains down her neck. So that was what she had walke-

"Finally?" Y/N was still chuckling as she leaned into Wednesday.

If there weren't more pressing matters at hand, Enid would so be teasing Wednesday right about now. But- "What do you mean?"

"Love, you still haven't told her?" That was adressed to the girl by her side.

"And have her all up in our business?"

"You love it when she's all up in your business, mi amor," Y/N countered and threaded her fingers between Wednesday's.

Who shot another round of daggers with her eyes. Though their handles were probably in heart shapes. Enid could feel the affection overflowing from her best friend. It was a little unsettling to watch.

"So this is already an established thing?" She butted in before anything got out of hand.

Y/N grinned, turned and planted a kiss on Wednesday's lips before either of the girls could react. Tugged on one braid for good measure. "Two and a half months since I confessed to that lovely monster."

Oh, Wednesday would never hear the end of this.

Wednesday Taglist: @the-night-owl-blr @kenobette @lovelyy-moonlight

Join a Taglist

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday fanfiction

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sanjisblackasswife · 10 months

Text

𝕆𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔸𝕚𝕜𝕦 ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Unfortunately you had to teach him what that even was. Thats if you had the patience for him. He didn’t necessarily fall straight asleep after sex, but he wanted you to cockwarm him all night. Now if you’re up for that then you’re good to go, no problems, but every girl deserves excellent aftercare so after talking to him about it he struggles to understand a little the point of it but after a few trial and errors he is more anticipating on aftercare with you. He loves laying naked, catching his breath, and feeling all over you after sex. He takes a few moments of silence before he slowly gets up, slaps your ass and says “Alright let’s take a shower together.” If he’s feeling nice he’ll pick you up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You: He gives off tiddy/thigh man. He cannot stop staring at them when they are exposed. Even if you’re wearing a shirt that covers your breast and you have spillage under the bra he is infatuated with your breast. He loves rutting against your thighs at night. He holds you from behind and some nights when you both haven’t had sex in a while and just ruts into your thighs which leads to him pulling his dick out and thigh fucking you from behind

Him: His legs, he knows he is the best at being a striker, he puts pride into working out and he notices how you gawk at his meaty thighs anyways.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Messy boy. No shame. He loves filling you up, but pulling out to finish on your pretty sensitive pussy makes him want to take pictures so badly. He will always hum about how sexy your pussy is to him, sometimes he even pushes back your thighs and cleans you up just to get one more taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to make a Twitter with you. Completely faceless Twitter videos that is. He’s on it almost daily and he swears up and down you both can create way better videos to make, plus the thought of people getting off to fucking you or eating your pussy gets him riled up. He wants to ask you one day but he fears you may get upset. But hopefully you can say yes to recording a video private videos with him?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had his fair share of women before you, that doesn’t make him good. He wasn’t that great when you both became exclusive and started having sex. He was constantly rough, bare did any foreplay, snd only cared about himself. Now though after explaining to him that you in fact CAN have better sex by taking his time, he has improved vastly. His demeanor changed so much he is almosta different person when it comes to sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl: Is a FEIND for it. Seeing your ass bounce in front of him as he smokes with hand arm behind his head will always be his favorite. He sometimes gives your ass a firm smack of appreciation with a lewd comment about your pussy taking him so well.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can definitely have his unserious moments. He loves talking dirty but he always ends up sounding like a smartass leaving you both in a bantering giggle.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hairy boi. Not like completely too much where it’s like a jungle, but If you want it trimmed he would just let you do it. (He wants another reason for you to touch his dick)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He isn’t a traditional romantic. For an example. He once wrote “Let me eat that pussy” in rose petals on your bed when you came home from work. Either than that the most romantic he’s been was giving you a massage that ended up with him giving your backshots about 10 minutes in after he “accidentally “ slipped his finger in your pussy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Daily. Less when he got with you, but it’s still every other day he usually only does it when you’re not home and to send you a photo, but if you are home he likes for you to watch him…maybe even join.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Exhibitionist, Dacryphilia, Roleplay, Somno, Praise, Degrading, Breath play, Forcing and Orgasm

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom is where he is most comfortable but nothing screams fun like doing it in a locker room 15 minutes before his team comes walking in. He still haven’t been caught but even if he did he doesn’t care.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you get mad at him. He’s a pervert and a weirdo he gets a certain smirk creeping from his face when he sees you cursing him out. A few times he has just kissed you mid argument, managing to suck in your tongue, even if you push him off he continues to try to rut into you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Whatever your no’s are his as well. He’s an open minded guy. He doesn’t mind doing at least one new thing with you each time you have sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

When you taught him foreplay you also taught him how to eat your pussy and….damn. You created a pervert. Oliver loves eat your pussy even if hes already inside you, he’ll stop to flip you on your back and continue licking you. He doesn’t understand why yous pussy feels so good against both his dick AND tongue but he isnt complaining.

Oliver loves you with all his heart. He does, but he lives your throat even more. He always tries to take control of you by face fucking you when you suck his dick. He doesn’t have any shame. However his groans and moans of your name make it worth it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Now that he’s trained he goes the pace YOU want. He always ask “slow or fast” against your lips before hand as he slides his way in side you. Usually when you’re riding first though he wants it fast.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickie King. Loves em. It’s just foreplay for him, really until he takes you home and finishes what he starts.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He takes risks everyday when he fucks you, it’s damn near scary how much he is willing to do for your pussy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Realistically about 3 rounds max with breaks. Average time of a night full of sex is aboutt 45 minutes to an hour and that’s not including foreplay.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns vibrator he let you use on him, He whined like a slut for how much your edges him and to this day he wants to take out his revenge on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing is part of his foreplay, seeing your squirm, seeing your whine his name when he’s edging you, or even barely touching you, but whispering in your ear how much he wants to fuck you when you both are in a public area. It gets him off.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a whiner and a groaner. You only heard him whimper a few times but overall he is a brat that loves to he tamed so if he isnt groaning your name he’ll be talking shit, don’t worry, just clamp down on him and he’ll be whining all over again.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is part Mexican and sometimes speaks Spanglish when he’s happy/feeling flirty

He loves watching rom coms with you, he swears it’s for YOUR entertainment but you always question that when he continues talking about how Brad cheating on Lydia was wrong even AFTER the movie ended

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Curved, 6.7 inch, cut, veiny, light brown and fleshy pink dick. He prides himself on it, and yes it’s as pretty as him. (He calls it Lil Oli)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than a kite. He has sex with you about 5-6 times a week and that’s if he isn’t out traveling. If he is them expect ft calls every night for a mutual masturbation session.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You both end up slowly passing out after sex after some aftercare. A few whispers of appreciation from him and “i love yous” while he brushes his fingers on your eyes so you can fall asleep with him and he’s out like a light.

#TimikosOliver #bllk smut #bllk oliver #bllk #bllk hcs #bllk headcanons #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x black reader #oliver aiku #oliver smut #oliver aiku amut #black reader #oliver aiku x black reader #oliver aiku x reader

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cherrywineandmagic · 2 years

Text

Chemistry - Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Prompt: Eddie gets flustered when Y/N asks him out in front of everyone

“If you stare any harder your eyes might explode,” Mike joked as he gave Eddie a slight shove. It was enough to get him to finally break away his gaze from what had captivated him across the cafeteria.

Y/N L/N was quite possibly the most beautiful girl Eddie had ever seen, and he’d seen his fair share of pretty ladies. The stack of playboy magazines underneath his bed could attest to that. She was a senior- a popular girl, beautiful and well-liked by everyone. He didn’t know of a single jock that hadn’t taken their shot and asked her out by now. Yet, for some odd reason, she always remained single.

Maybe she was just too good for anyone from Hawkins. That much he knew was true.

He’d had the luck and pleasure of being her chemistry partner earlier that month for an assignment. At first, he wasn’t sure what to expect. She was best friends with the cheer squad and they all made their distaste for him known, so he figured she might feel the same way.

Instead, he was pleasantly surprised. She was friendly and kind and didn’t even get angry when he almost accidentally lit her hair on fire. She had simply laughed it off and joked about burning his hair off to make them even. He admired her wicked sense of humor and felt that they really had chemistry together- ironic considering they were working together for a chemistry grade. She was incredibly smart and landed them a perfect score for their project. He actually looked forward to class during that time and was sad when it came to an end.

He had considered her a friend during that time. She both excited and calmed him, bringing so much to his day that he wondered how they’d never spoken before that. He felt as if he’d known her his entire life.

But she was popular and he was a freak. Their circles never mixed, and anyone who even dared to step out of the status quo was immediately banished from said group. He’d never have a chance with her, but he could still admire her from afar.

He’d find himself daydreaming about her often. The thought of her lips on his kept him up at night, filling him with a yearning he’d never had before. He’d had crushes before, and sure he’d had a silly middle school girlfriend that had lasted an impressive total of two weeks, but this was something different. He could picture himself with her- whether it was traveling across the country or settling down in the same town he’d been stuck in his whole life didn’t make a difference. He thought of her and felt happy. Truly and simply happy.

But those were just silly dreams and the closest he’d be able to get to her again was here. In the cafeteria. With longing looks.

“Is it a crime to look at a beautiful lady?” Eddie asked as he shot Mike suggestive eyebrows. He laughed at the face Mike made and returned his gaze to the girl across the room. Their eyes locked for an instant, and he shot her a shy grin which she returned with a dazzling smile. She said something to her friend, and stood up, waving away the protests from the basketball players that had been trying to get her attention.

“Oh shit,” Dustin whispered from Eddie’s side, “she’s coming over here dude.”

“Act cool, guys,” Eddie instructed as he stood up and fixed his jacket. He moved around the table before thinking better of the situation approaching. Only a few people had noticed their small exchange, but having her come straight to him was a sure way to get people to gossip. He didn’t care, but he didn’t want her to feel judged for it. He made eye contact and motioned to the entrance, wanting to spare her the ridicule of being seen talking to the town freak. To his surprise, she merely shook her head and marched straight up to him.

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted with a grin once she was in earshot. He slid his hands into his back pockets to hide the fact that they were sweating from anticipation. He shot the table of friends a look as they all gawked at the girl in front of them.

“Hey Ed,” she smiled before turning to the rest of the group. “Hey, guys.”

They all gave delayed hellos, shocked to have her speak to them. It wasn’t that she was ever mean to them, they just weren’t accustomed to having their existence acknowledged by one of the hottest girls in school.

“So… are you doing anything tonight?” she asked Eddie. He was surprised at the question but answered honestly.

“Hellfire club. We’re almost done with our campaign.” He felt a soft kick to his leg followed by a hushed “dude” from Dustin. “Why? Did you need something?”

“Actually yeah, I do.” She smiled confidently before taking a step closer. More people were watching now and Eddie could feel his nervousness begin to overtake him. Whatever it was she wanted, she had decided it was worth social suicide. “I need a date.”

“A date?” Eddie choked out. He would have sworn his heart had stopped for a second before beating at full force. He could hear the blood rush in his ears. “Like, an actual date? Not just an “I need someone to keep me company at some party” date?”

“Yes, a date! The “I kinda like you and I wanna see what happens between us” sort of date. You know. Watch a movie. Grab dinner. Have fun together.” her smile never faltered. “We can do it tomorrow since you’re busy tonight?”

“He’s not busy tonight!“ Dustin interjected. “I have to uhhh- help my mom with stuff tonight so we’re going to play tomorrow instead.”

Eddie shot him a confused look but Dustin merely widened his eyes at him.

“Right Mike?” Dustin continued, nudging his friend.

“Uh yeah. I’m also helping Dustin’s mom. With that thing. So, yeah. Eddie’s free tonight.” Mike nodded with great enthusiasm. Eddie appreciated the fact that they were so willing to forego their campaign when he hadn’t been as flexible with them in the past.

“Great!” she beamed. Eddie felt dizzy, almost as if he was being lifted out of his own body. It was all so much to process for him. Her smile fell a bit as she noticed how quiet he had been. “Eddie? Are you okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No! No,” he snapped back into his body faster than lightning. “I would love to take you on a date. I’m just a little confused, that’s all.”

“Confused?”

“Yeah. Y/N, you’re…popular. Your friends will disown you for even speaking to me right now” he frowned, “and you’re doing this so publicly…people are watching.”

She grinned, genuinely moved by his concern.

“No offense to them but, I don’t think I want them as a friend if they’re that quick to cut me off,” she stepped closer and looked up at him, “and besides, I like you. That’s all that matters. Fuck them.”

His smile tripled in size as he nodded in agreement.

“Fuck ‘em.”

She took another step closer and graced his cheek with a soft kiss. Eddie and his friends were stunned at the small act, as were the rest of Hawkins High students who’d been watching the interaction with great curiosity. She gave a small laugh at the way his eyes widened before stepping away.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, tonight,” Eddie agreed as he tried his best to not look like a lovesick fool. He could hear the whispers that had broken out across the cafeteria but he didn’t care. Instead, he sat back down and continued to eat his food as if his life hadn’t just completely changed in a matter of moments.

“I don’t know what the hell just happened but you’re lucky I have to help my mom tonight,” Dustin stated with a goofy grin.

Eddie rolled his eyes but gave the kid a hug.

“Thanks, man.”

#fic requests #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things

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marjorie189 · 8 months

Note

🌸 rafe cameron and Girl Next Door - If they have windows that align and they can both see each other dressing and dancing to music and walking around naked.

I LOVE this request Anna!!!

I had so much fun writing it!!

I was the new girl in town.

Still finding the ins and outs of the small beach town.

Meeting and hanging out with new people all around the small town to figure out who to befriend.

But one thing’s for sure, set in stone, morning and night, in which I’d have encounters with the hot boy next door.

Rafe Cameron.

The house he lives in is next to mine and our rooms are across from one another. We have identical ceiling to floor glass windows that face one another.

Perfectly, allowing full visual access to one another’s rooms.

It all started on the first day, I was finally settling into my room.

All day, I was busily setting everything up and finally at the end of the day I was able to sit in bed and relax.

I had a perfect view of a huge window across from where I was sitting in bed.

Looking through the window into a room that belonged to the neighbors.

I assumed that it was a guy’s room based on the furniture and color of its walls. It was simple, a bit bland, but sophisticated.

My eyes widened when a guy walked into the room.

I didn’t quite expect someone to walk into the room. It had been vacant all day and seeing someone walk into it was new.

I quickly looked away not wanting to get caught observing the boyish room. As I looked away my heart dropped as realization ran through my head.

Not only did someone walk through the room but the guy that did was mighty hot and delicious.

I fought the urge to not gawk at the guy that was in plain sight of view.

From what I recalled he walked through the room like he owned the place, his face closed off and serious.

But god he was tall and beautiful.

My eyes dazed back to the window. The hot boy next door had thrown the shirt that he previously had on, to the floor and was now revealing his perfect sun kissed chest and toned stomach.

He had walked towards another corner of his room, displaying his chiseled back paired perfectly with his biceps.

I gulped down. Sure Outer Banks had a fair share of hot guys but none of them came close to the guy my eyes were glued to at this very moment.

His eyes looked out the window, meeting my figure.

He looked taken aback, almost shocked at someone next door. Especially a girl.

He slid his shorts down, standing beside his bed leaving him in his briefs.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and I’m sure he could tell. He sent a wink my way with a flirtatious smile.

My cheeks warmed up and a foolish smile appeared on my face.

I let out a chuckle and his smile grew.

I was laying in bed and the boy across from me was in his underwear, his perfect body in full sight.

I couldn’t help it, my eyes naturally roamed down to his briefs. His penis was nicely fit in his gray briefs. It looked prettily tightly tucked in.

A blush formed on my cheeks as I admired him and his parts.

He sent a smile my way and I looked down. Too much for me to handle, so I got out of bed and headed straight to the shower.

I walked away from the little encounter with a booming smile.

The next morning I woke up and found the room across from me empty.

The sheets were lazily spread out on the spacious sized bed and the room vacant.

Curiosity roamed my mind, thinking of where the boy could be.

I hopped out of bed, got into the shower for a morning rinse after the hot previous night.

After my shower, I walked into my room that was conjoined to my bathroom in just a bra and panties. Roaming in my own privacy.

Mere inches away from grabbing the laid clothes for the day on my bed, something in me churned to look at the window.

Doing just that I faced the boy standing right at his window with a huge arrogant smirk.

My eyes widened and I quickly looked away from the boy.

Fuck.

He just saw me in my undergarments. My whole body practically exposed to him.

I could still feel his eyes on me.

I turned around and just smiled at him as I threw my shirt on.

He waved teasingly at me and I just blushed and put my shorts on.

How fucking embarrassing.

But he seemed entertained.

A couple days passed by and our little encounters continued.

Rafe walked into his room after a hot steamy shower with a low and I mean a low towel hanging on his hips. V-line endearing and appealing. His hair dangling down his face. His eyes boring into mine as he played with the towel that laid lowly.

Or when I purposely went on a bikini shopping spree and bought the sexiest and most revealing ones. Just to try them on, as he watched.

He was laying down in bed when I walked in front of the window, where I placed the mirror purposely. I immediately felt his gaze in front of me.

In my peripheral vision I could see him sitting up, his focus now on me.

I acted like I didn’t see him though.

I had a hot red bikini on. The top was triangle shaped and the bottoms were cheeky.

I stood in front of the mirror, slowly tracing my fingers along the fabric of the bikini top.

Playing with the straps, I slid it down showing off my chest.

I turned sideways, to see how the bikini fit on my body through the mirror.

My ass looked amazing in the red tight bottoms.

My back turned, so that it was now facing towards the mirror and window.

I purposely shook my bum as I turned my back towards Rafe’s direction.

I could feel his gaze but I still didn’t acknowledge it.

I knew I looked hot but two could play that game. He was always taunting me with his low towel and nice abs.

I bent down to the shopping bag on the floor filled with bathing suits, showing him another angle of myself to him.

The red on my ass sliding up my skin as I bent down to the floor, revealing more of my skin. Knowing I was driving him insane. My hair falling down my back.

I went ahead and grabbed another two piece set from the bag.

I got a hold of a leopard print one with gold hoops that’ll be in between my breasts and some along the bottoms.

I went ahead, stood up and turned to face the window. Meeting his dark eyes for the first time today.

With just a pull of a string I removed the red top and revealed my breasts that I covered with my arm. My arm barely covering my nipples.

He looked desperate, full of yearn.

I went ahead and gave them a little squeeze and let out a chuckle.

He gulped down.

This was fun. Making him want more. He looked with intent and desire. Wanting more.

I sent him a wink before I turned around and put on the next bikini set. Making sure not to reveal anymore of myself than I already have.

Once I had the leopard print bikini on and I seductively leaned towards the mirror and squished my boobs together to give them a fuller look.

I smirked as I trailed my eyes over at his dark ones.

His hand on his lower abdomen, fingers desperately close to sliding into his briefs.

He was holding back, I knew he was. But I could tell that he was having a hard time with it. No pun intended.

Through his shorts, his member was imprinted.

It got me wet just looking at it through the window. Looking at him.

He was insanely good looking and I don’t think I can physically handle these heated encounters anymore.

His eyes spoke to me. He wanted me to continue. So I did.

The third set was a black colored one.

This material was thinner and smaller, and the bottom was a thong.

I reappeared into the window with the black bikini on my body.

I stood straight as I looked at my appearance through the mirror.

My body was now visibly revealing my horniness. Apart from the wetness I could feel in between my legs.

They’re so hard that my nipples are peeping through the bikini’s top.

Rafe and I’s eye contact is going strong but it got cut off as my fingers slid through the nub on top of the clothing.

The sensation caused my eyes to roll back.

I bit my lip as a small moan slipped through my lips.

I regained consciousness and my eyes met Rafe again and I swear I was able to hear his groan from here.

I looked down at his veiny arms and realized he slightly palmed himself through his shorts.

And with that I had to walk away, into the restroom, away from him.

What they both didn’t know was that they both masterbated and touched themselves to the thought of each other. At the same time.

When Y/N walked to the restroom she went ahead and stripped herself of her small bathing suit and soothed the built up pressure on her clit until she dripped in cum. Her fingers deep inside, pumping in and out, thinking that it was Rafe’s dick thrusting into her.

Rafe went ahead and laid in bed. Taking off his shorts and briefs, letting his dick spring up into the air. Palming his hard member in thought of the pretty girl in front of him. Imagining her stripping for him as she whispered dirty little things to him. Until he felt himself on the verge of cumming.

The day after their heated and steamy encounter, they both made sure to be out of their rooms.

Not wanting to face each other

The whole day they avoided each other. Entering their room late at night only to fall asleep.

They both fell asleep in thought of one another.

Or at least that’s what they both wished could happen.

Y/N kept tossing and turning in the dark room, wanting to find rest.

But her body wouldn’t give it to her. Despite the fact that she kept busy all day.

It was nearing 1:00am and the night sky looked mesmerizing through the window.

Maybe some fresh air could help?

So I got up and slipped on some slides.

I walked out of my room, down the stairs and out the door to the front lawn.

As the fresh breeze hit my skin I suddenly felt at ease.

There’s some lounge chairs on the side of the house on the wrap-around porch, so I swiftly turned towards that direction.

When suddenly the air knocked out of my lungs.

I hit something hard and I felt my head spin.

As my legs were suddenly impacted by the hard surface, I felt them lose balance, falling back, as I held my head.

Right before that could happen, I felt a strong arm wrapped around my back, pulling me back up.

My eyes fluttered open and to my dismay, I was met by the boy next door’s worried complexion.

“Oh um are you okay?” He let out, his eyes inspecting my face and suddenly I realized how close we were. I could see all the pretty faint freckles scattered on his nose and cheeks. And those honey brown eyes, that were searching for answers.

This was nothing compared to our moments shared through our windows. Our faces inches apart and the strong grip he held.

I regained consciousness and replied. “Yeah, thanks!”

“Sorry, I must’ve not seen you. I swear I didn’t.” I apologized, looking up at him.

“It’s alright. I was in on my own head and next thing you know I’m seeing this pretty girl slamming into me. I have pretty quick instincts, so here we are,” He smiled, his arm still wrapped along my waist, looking down at me.

I swear I couldn’t breath, despite the air that swept around us.

These encounters were better. Physical real encounters because never in a million years would I be able to admire his eyelashes across the window from each other.

“So we’re even.” He continued, his voice sending chills throughout my body.

He seemed so nice? So kind? Those evil smirks he would send me from across the window were gone.

This guy was sweet, or so it seemed in this minute encounter.

Words couldn’t make it past my lips, but the thousand of thoughts in me were at full speed.

I cleared my throat and my eyes trailed away from his.

I guess he noticed my silence and mistook it for discomfort because he was backing away.

“Oh, sorry!” He said, realizing that his arm was still wrapped around the girl next door. He was too delved into conversation with the girl that’s been on his mind 24/7.

Apparently my limbs and voice reconnected to my brain because they’re suddenly working in my favor.

“No.” I quickly said catching onto his actions.

I reached for his hand as he unwrapped it from my waist.

“It’s okay, I was just taken aback by this whole thing. I just came outside to catch some fresh air. I didn’t expect to see you,” I say shyly, reconnecting our eyes.

Rafe chuckled as he saw the blush forming on Y/N’s cheeks.

He found it endearing.

“Well I’ll let you…” I was saying before he spoke.

“Hey, I was heading to the beach. Do you want to join me?” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Yeah, that would be nice!” I smiled brightly.

“Yeah?” He asked aloud.

I nodded.

Rafe mentally fist bumped himself, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip.

“Well lucky for us the beach is in our backyard!” Rafe grinned, as we both headed towards that direction.

We were walking in between both of our houses, before making it to the grassy backyards.

“So, how are you liking the Outer Banks? Is it treating you right?” He asked, looking beside him, at me.

“It’s beautiful! I love it,” I smiled.

And I’m definitely loving it more now!

Our backyard is like a big plot of land, full of grass. It wasn’t divided by a gate, just open and free.

“Yeah people tend to like it here. I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” He expressed.

I nod.

“Yeah I’m glad we decided to move here! I love the house and the beach town vibe,” I smiled contently.

“Yeah? Did you and your family have our places in mind?” Rafe pondered aloud.

“We looked into a lot of other places before settling here. Thank goodness we chose Outer Banks because I don’t know what I would’ve done if they decided on Montana or something. Don’t get me wrong, Montana has beautiful and might I add huge houses. But the homes are secluded there and everyone keeps to themselves. It would've been hard to adjust.” I rant on.

“Montana? Really?” Rafe questions with a funny look on his face.

“It’s very beautiful over there! One of the houses we visited out there was drop dead gorgeous!” I try to convince him. But as I looked over at him he had a skeptical expression.

I giggle at his unconvinced look.

“Let me paint a picture for you. It’s not for everyone but nonetheless it’s lovely out there. The houses are rustic and cabin-like…” I was saying before Rafe interrupted.

“Yeah definitely not for everyone!” Rafe butted in.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Will you let me explain?!” I say within laughter.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry!” He said joining in on my laughter.

“As I was saying, they’re cabin-like homes. With countless windows to capture the amazing canvas looking views of the mountains and sky that reflect on the lake. In the winter it snows so the mountains are filled with snow and the lake is frozen. I can only imagine winter and Christmas out there. You could probably cut your own Christmas tree because you’re surrounded by them. Before you judge you should really search them up” I finish explaining.

“Okay, maybe I spoke too soon. It does sound nice but nothing can beat Outer Banks!” He boasts.

“Yeah it’s great here and the house is amazing!” I smile as my heart flutters.

He smiles back at me and we finally make it to the sandy shore.

We take a seat on the sand and I take a look at the spectacular view in front of me. The water crashing onto the sand is music to my ears.

“So why were you going to come out here in the first place?” I questioned, looking from the water to him.

Now that we were somewhat at the same level, I had the chance to admire his perfect chestnut colored hair. The way it parted down the middle and fell on his face. Making me want to delve my hand right through it.

I looked back down and away from his hair only to catch his eyes on mine, causing me to blush.

“I couldn’t sleep. What about you? Where were you heading off to?” He asked.

“Me neither. I just had to leave my room and sit outside, catch some fresh air,” I admitted.

He nodded and looked straight ahead at the horizon.

I don’t know if it’s some kind of dream but it doesn’t feel real. I’m sitting on the sand with the boy I was going crazy over, on the beach, past midnight.

Who would’ve thought?

He looked so handsome as he looked at the night sky, towards the waves. His side profile was: immaculate, godsent, chef’s kiss, the list goes on.

It must be the late night thoughts but he looked so cozy and I hate to admit but boyfriend material. I just want to lean in and cuddle him because now I’m starting to feel myself relax and find the tiredness I needed when I was in bed.

I couldn’t help but blush as I looked away, after admiring his beauty.

We both watched the waves together for a bit peacefully, until he spoke up.

“So bikinis, huh?” He said, letting out a small laugh.

Rafe turned to face the girl next to him, while she kept her eyes on the horizon.

I let out a small chuckle, almost forgetting that happened.

“Did you like them?” I asked, turning over to look at him, our eyes meeting as my smile grew.

Confidence knocking over the door.

“Oh yeah!” He boomed. “I still can’t decide which one is my favorite!”

I blushed and looked away from his intense look.

I looked down at my lap as I blushed.

“You looked great by the way,” He complimented as he sensed my shyness.

“You did too,” I smiled over at him.

“Oh I doubt that,” He said, looking in the opposite direction.

“Oh come on! Don’t tell me you don’t know it. Those abs and muscular back say otherwise!” I exclaimed, playfully and lightly shoving his shoulder.

He looked back over at me with the biggest smile and colored cheeks, letting out the most adorable laugh.

Alongside the shore was the sound of both of our laughter.

As we settled down, I shuddered as the late night breeze suddenly became cooler. As well as a yawn escaping my lips.

“Well that sounds like you're cold and tired. Come on, let’s head back.” Rafe instructed.

I nodded and we both got up from the sand.

We both headed back to our meeting point, right in between both of our homes.

The whole walk there, Rafe walked slightly behind her.

Watching as she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm.

All he wanted was to embrace her cold body and warm her up. She was so small compared to him, and he loved that. He just wanted to wrap his arms around her.

He was wearing one of his big soft cotton hoodies, knowing that it gets cold this time at night. But she didn’t and Rafe just wanted to hold her against his warm sweater, making sure she’d never get cold again.

As they made it to their initial meet up point, they both stood across from each other.

Y/N looking up at Rafe’s tall figure and Rafe looking down at her.

“Well good night,” I smiled up at him.

“Good night. It was nice talking to you…” Rafe trailed off realizing they never exchanged names.

“Y/N.”

“Well good night Y/N. Until next time!” Rafe smiled charmingly.

He turned away heading back to his place.

“Wait!” I called out, grabbing ahold of his hand.

Rafe turned back around, looking delighted at our sudden encounter.

“What about you?” I softly asked, meeting his eyes.

He stayed silent.

“Your name?” I clarified.

“You’ll have to wait until next time,” He grinned, turning around heading inside his house.

“Oh, you’re mean!” I said with an uncontrollable smile.

I hope you all enjoyed reading it like I enjoyed writing it!!!

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Thank you so much!

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thewayofthemandalorian · 1 year

Text

feels like home - oneshot

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: When your work visa expires sooner than expected, your only option to stay in Washington is to get married. Marcus offers to be your husband until you get your green card. Neither of you expect that your marriage will end up being more real than intended.

Word count: 11,527

Notes: I was thinking about marriage of convenience in stories and the first character that came to mind for “marrying their friend to help them but then falls for them” was Marcus Miguel Pike. These two are kind of idiots, but they’re idiots in love. Much love and thanks to the wonderful @ezrasbirdie for beta-reading and holding my hand when this fic was giving me the hardest time. Title from long story short by Taylor Swift.

This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Warnings: Marriage of convenience, miscommunication, yearning, committing fraud, swearing, therapy, food mention, sharing a bed, friends to lovers, kissing, non-explicit sexual content (including female receiving oral), divorce mention.

masterlist (main) || masterlist (marcus pike)

Looking up from your menu, you look at the man sitting across from you. You really don’t have a connection to this man. Dan? Dean? You can’t even remember his name. Probably not a good sign about asking him to marry you.

“Are you guys ready to order?” asks the waitress who’s materialized from nowhere.

Daniel speaks before you can order the burger and fries. “I’ll have the steak, well done—” he misses the way your nose wrinkles. It’s a cheap diner, the consistency of the steak is already going to be that of a shoe — “and she’ll have the garden salad with house dressing.”

You have to force yourself not to gawk at him. Before you can correct the waitress, who looks bored out of her mind, she’s gone.

You’re starting to re-think this whole thing. Maybe being sent back to Canada on an expired work visa won’t be that bad.

“How much money did you say you make again?” Dieter asks. “Because I’m between jobs at the moment and I don’t think I can pay.”

You didn’t say how much you make. “No worries. I can cover it,” you offer your date what you hope is a polite smile. “I just need to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”

Don doesn’t seem to care.

Pulling your phone out of your purse, you text your best friend. I need you to call me in three minutes with a fake emergency.

Lily is usually attached to her phone, so you expect the three dots to come up almost immediately. They don’t. A minute goes by. Nothing.

Your phone dings after a minute. Sorry babe, I’m in an important zoom call for work! Try Marcus maybe?

With a groan, you throw your head back. The one person you didn’t want to bother in all of this. He doesn’t know anything about your current predicament. Nor does he know about your hare-brained idea to get around getting deported because you didn’t realize that your work visa is expiring in three months instead of thirteen months.

In your defense, it had been Lily’s idea. You just hadn’t had any better ideas. No worries, you reply. Going back to the messages page on your phone, you tap out a quick text, basically a replica of what you texted Lily.

The bubble of three dots pops up immediately. What’s up?

I’m on the worst date!!! I need an excuse to leave.

Marcus’s reply comes in quickly. On it. Play along.

It’s not the best exercise to employ, but you get the impression that Dylan won’t let you go, no matter how much you insist.

“Sorry about that,” you smile as you sit back in the booth with the fake flower and the plastic checkered tablecloth. “I got a call from my mom and she worries if I don’t answer.” Making a mental apology to your mom for kind of throwing her under the bus, you offer a grimace that you hope is convincing and make a note to call her later tonight.

“Ugh, tell me about it. My mom drives me up the wall. ‘When are you going to get a girlfriend? When are you going to get a job? When are you going to move out of my basement?’”

Right on cue, your phone rings. “So sorry, I have to take this,” you say, not even looking at the screen. You know it’s Marcus. “Hello?”

Marcus is so good at saving you from pickles like this. “Hey, I’m so sorry to call you like this but… my plane landed about forty-five minutes ago and I’m wondering when you’re coming to pick me up from the airport? Should I just keep waiting for you at baggage claim?”

Not quite what you were expecting but you play along. “Oh, shoot! I knew I was forgetting something. I am so sorry! I will be right there.” To your date you say “You don’t mind if I go pick up someone from the airport do you?” You don’t even wait to hear a response. “I’ll just grab the check and be on my way,” you tell Marcus. Once you hang up, you turn back to Dom. “I completely forgot that my brother was coming today. I thought it was tomorrow, but I promised him I would pick him up from the airport.”

The waitress comes over with a charred lump of meat that’s supposed to be a steak and a wilted, sad looking salad.

“I’m so sorry to do this but can I get mine boxed up and get the check?” you ask. She nods and gets you a box and the bill. You leave a few bills on the table and say goodbye to your date. “It was lovely to meet you,” you lie.

“Can we do this again?” he asks.

Absolutely not. “Gotta go!”

You make a mad dash for the exit, making sure to toss the salad into the garbage on your way to your car. Unmatching with David as you go.

- - - -

You make your way to Marcus’s condo, picking up a pizza on your way over. You’re hungry and you want to thank Marcus for getting you out of that.

At some point you will have to tell Marcus what’s going on, but you don’t want him to pull any strings or do anything like that to keep you here. You want to stay, you just don’t know how outside of marrying someone who is already an American citizen.

It’s not that you disliked living in Canada. It’s where you’re from, where you grew up. Your life is here, though. Your job, your friends. Marcus.

Balancing the bag of soft drinks on the pizza box, you press the buzzer for Marcus’s condo. A second later he buzzes you up.

“Thank you so much for saving me,” you say by way of greeting.

Marcus takes the box of pizza from you. “Not a problem. What was wrong with him?” he asks.

You follow him into the cozy condo that he’s made his own in the past two years that he’s been in Washington. Art prints cover the walls, a floor to ceiling bookshelf with stacks of books in no particular semblance of order covering a wide range of topics and genres in the corner. It’s cozy. Homey. From the first time you visited his place, you felt at home, at ease.

Flopping down on the plush couch that he’s had since his undergrad, you groan. “What wasn’t wrong with him?” you grouse. “It was every cliche in the book. He even ordered me a salad.”

Marcus Pike knows he’s made some blunders in his own love life in the past. Hell, they were such big blunders that he’s been in therapy since he arrived here to get to the root of it and ensure that he never makes the same mistakes in his love life again. But he would never, ever order a date’s meal for them. Especially not a salad. The only time he would make an order for someone, anyone, is if they’re in the bathroom when the server comes to take the order and he already knows what his date wants.

Dating’s been a wash for Marcus since coming to Washington. At first it was from the sting of Teresa’s actions and rejection, but since then, no one’s been able to spark his interest beyond a couple of dates and maybe a round in bed. But it’s been two years. And no one’s been able to catch his attention.

Well. No. That’s not fully true. His attention has been caught. But you haven’t picked up on it and he’s pretty sure that you just want to be his friend. Plus the fact that you were just on a date with another man kind of solidifies that too.

Marcus isn’t bitter about it. He knows how it is. The old him would have attempted to get with you, try whatever it took to get your attention. But he likes being your friend. Likes the easy rapport he has with you. And he doesn’t want to date someone he works with, even indirectly. Since you work in art restoration and conservation, you liaise with the art crimes unit quite often. That’s how you met. Marcus was new to the D.C. branch of the FBI and was in a new position. You met on his first job with the D.C. squad and just clicked right away. That had been two years ago. Since then, you’ve been thick as thieves.

“I thought you were going to give Tinder a rest for a while?” Marcus asks, grabbing some plates.

You shrug. “It was Lily’s idea.” You know you have to tell him. The fucking letter is still in your purse. It would be so easy to just tell him why you were on that date, why you’re more stressed out than he’s ever seen you be (and he has, especially on particularly tricky cases).

“Are you all right?” asks Marcus, almost as if on cue. He hands you a plate and you load it with two slices of pizza. “You seem a bit…” He shrugs. “...I don’t know. Under pressure? And not just from the date.” He sits down beside you, crossing his pajama pants-clad legs.

You don’t even know why you haven’t told him yet. It started out as you trying to figure out if you could extend it or apply for citizenship but those had both been denied pretty quickly. You know that Marcus would offer something and you don’t want him to feel obligated in any way. He’s sweet like that, always doing stuff for other people without complaint. You know he’s big on marriage and romance. You know he wants the real thing. Not some sham that would fool the government and only end in divorce once you get your green card.

“You know you can tell me anything,” Marcus reminds you.

You smile at him. “I’m fine. Just…” The tell-tale sound of your mother’s ringtone interrupts you. “Can you get that for me, please?” you ask him. “It’s in my p—” You remember what else is in your purse just as Marcus is digging into it for you. His eyes land on the letter, the IMPORTANT stamp in bold red letters peeking out from where it’s folded.

“Not to snoop, but what’s this?” he asks.

It looks like your mom is going to voicemail.

- - - -

“So you know how I’m here on a work visa? A transfer from the National Gallery in Ottawa?” you ask.

Marcus nods. “Yes. You’ve been here for six years. What does that have to do with anything?”

Your phone dings with a text message from your mom. You quickly tap out a reply that you’re with Marcus and will call her back later. She sends a heart and a winky face emoji. “So I was under the impression that I still had a year on my work visa. I don’t.”

“How long do you have?” asks Marcus.

“Ninety days. Well, technically, eighty-three now. And I don’t know, maybe going back to Canada and applying for citizenship wouldn’t be the worst thing ever to happen. But my whole life is here. My job, my friends. Everything I’ve worked for.”

“Can you extend your visa? Or apply for citizenship?” Marcus offers.

You offer him a rueful expression. “I’ve already extended it as many times as I can. And I think I can only apply for citizenship if I’m married to an American citizen since my work is contract based. I tried putting a feeler out to Larissa to see if any permanent positions were coming up, but she was non-committal.”

Marcus doesn’t know enough about immigration or custom laws to refute that. It sounds accurate based on the one class he took way back in the day when he first signed up to be in the FBI. “What are you going to do?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Outside of marrying someone until I have my citizenship, I can’t think of anything. That’s why I’m back on Tinder. That’s why I was on that awful date tonight. To see if I can at least attempt to hack it.”

Marcus doesn’t know what to think. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have probably helped you in some way.”

“I was going to. It’s… weird, you know? I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says gently. “It’s not obligation with you. Never. I’m just sorry you’re going through this. We’ll figure it out.”

The mood of the evening dampened, you head home shortly after that, calling your mom on the car’s bluetooth. “I thought you were with Marcus,” she says after answering.

“No, I had to get going. I just crashed at his place after a bad date.”

Your mother sighs. “When are you going to realize that that man has it bad for you? Or admit to yourself and him that you have it bad for him?” She never misses a beat.

It’s your turn to sigh. “It would never work with Marcus. Not now. Not with…” You trail off, not wanting to worry your mom with your work visa woes.

“Not with what, honey?” she asks.

You chew your lip for a second. “Nothing. It’s complicated.” Eager to change the subject, you ask, “What’s new with you?”

Your mom tells you about what she’s been up to in the past couple of days since you last talked. Gossiping about family and the new couple that moved into the condo down the hall from her and their antics.

It’s always nice to talk to your mom. You wish that she would consider moving down to Washington because you miss her greatly. But she is stubborn and likes living in Ottawa. “Mom, I gotta go, I’m about to pull into the underground parking and you know how reception is down there for bluetooth.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll talk to you in a little bit.”

“I love you, Mom.”

You hang up shortly after and park your car. You sit there for a while, thinking about the whole ordeal of this evening. While things hadn’t become awkward with Marcus after your bombshell, you wouldn’t be surprised if things become awkward. You like Marcus, really and truly. But you also know that he is a romantic. He’s had some bad experiences in romance, a failed marriage and a broken engagement under his belt already. You don’t want him to help you in this, admittedly, hare-brained scheme you and Lily have cooked up, fueled mostly by wine and desperation. You know that if you had told him from the start, he would offer to marry you and you don’t want him to experience anything but the real deal. If there’s anyone that deserves real, true, genuine love and not a sham, it’s Marcus Miguel Pike.

Your phone dings with a text notification. It’s Marcus. Your heartbeat picks up. Your eyes glaze over the notification on your lock screen, not really allowing the words to sink in at first. He’s going to offer to marry you. Or pull some strings. Or tell you that he finds things awkward now.

Hey, sorry to cancel on you but I can’t make it to our weekly diner night tomorrow. I’ve just remembered that I’m visiting my dad in Texas for the weekend. Would love to reschedule for when I get back.

It’s not what you were expecting. Marcus is close with his dad and step-mom and he visits them as often as he can. He says it’s the one drawback of the transfer to Washington, not being able to see his dad and his step-mom as much as he would like to, especially now that his dad is in his mid-sixties.

Sure, that sounds fine. I’m free most nights next week except for Thursday when I have to work late and Wednesday when I’m doing girls night with Lily and Nikki. You press the blue arrow button to send the text and then almost immediately tap out another message. Are we okay, Marcus? I didn’t make things awkward did I?

Marcus replies. Of course we’re okay, honey. Everything’s good. How does Tuesday sound?

Sounds great. Have a good weekend in Texas.

- - - -

The weekend passes with little fanfare; you go on a semi-decent Tinder date on Saturday, but your heart’s not in it. Brad is a nice enough guy, but he spends the entire date talking about himself and his venture into cryptocurrency. As the night progresses his intentions of going home with you become more and more clear.

You split the bill and go home, alone. Tinder gets deleted for the time being.

Tuesday rolls around and it’s so busy you hardly have time to get home and change. Marcus texts you to say that he’ll pick you up which is a huge relief.

You still don’t have time to change, but you’re able to drop off your lunch bag and your work stuff, trading it in for your purse and a heavier jacket. Autumn has well and truly settled in.

Marcus is right on time, waiting for you when you come down at quarter to six. He’s still in his FBI get-up, tie and everything.

“Busy day for you, too?” you ask.

“Huh?” Marcus looks down at what he’s wearing, as if he’s forgotten. “Oh, yeah. New case, looks like it’ll be a doozy from the details we have so far.”

He merges into traffic and you talk about your weekends. Marcus is less chatty than he normally is. “Is everything okay, Marcus?” you ask. “You seem quiet tonight. Did you not have a good day?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just thinking.” He takes the next exit, not the usual way to the diner that you usually go to with him. At your look of confusion, he says, “We’re going somewhere different tonight.”

Somewhere different ends up being a higher-scale restaurant than you’re used to going to with him. “This is fancy,” you comment as you step into the restaurant. It’s dimly lit with candlelit tables and twinkly lights on the ceiling.

“Can I help you, sir?” asks the hostess.

“I have a reservation under Pike,” Marcus tells the young woman. She taps a few buttons on the tablet at her station before ushering you and Marcus to your table.

After taking your coat off and putting it on the back of your chair, you look at the menu as the waiter tells you the daily specials and soup of the day and pours you two glasses of water.

“This is really fancy, Marcus. Did you get a promotion?”

Marcus looks nervous but determined. “No. No promotion.”

“Then why—?”

He’s fiddling with something under the table. “I thought a lot about what we talked about on Thursday night when you were at my place. About your predicament and how the only feasible way you could stay.”

The waiter returns with a basket of bread. “Can I interest you two in a wine menu?”

Marcus nods. “Yes, please.”

A wine menu is pulled out from the waiter’s apron. “Do you need a minute to peruse the wine menu?”

“No, thank you. We’ll have a bottle of this one.” Marcus points to a vintage red halfway down the list. One of your favourites.

Taking the wine menu back, the waiter nods. “Very good.”

The two of you are left alone again for a few minutes. “You were thinking about what happened on Thursday?” you prompt.

Marcus nods. “Yeah. I thought about it a lot. As soon as you left, I knew what the answer to your problem was. That’s why I went to Texas. I needed to get something from Dad.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “What’s the answer?” you ask.

“Marry me.”

You don’t have time to react because at that moment the wine is delivered to your table and you take that moment to order your meals as well. Marcus tells you that you can order anything you like. He’s paying and won’t hear any arguments.

The appetizers are brought out and you finally have a moment without interruptions. “I don’t think I heard you correctly, Marcus.”

“You heard me just fine, honey.”

Your face goes warm and you are absolutely blaming it on the wine that you’ve only had one sip of. “Marcus, you don’t want to marry me,” you argue.

“Yes, I do,” he counters.

“I know you, Marcus. You want the real deal. Something that’s real and true and—and, you know, not a scam?” You lower your voice so no one can overhear you.

Marcus isn’t swayed. “You know that I’ve been married once and engaged another time. You know that I’m a romantic who wants to sweep a woman off her feet. I also know that I’m impulsive — something that I’m working on with my therapist — and I think with my heart instead of my head sometimes when it comes to things like that.”

“Exactly, Marcus. You deserve something that is true. I don’t think you’re going to get that by marrying me–”

He’s still not finished. “All of that is true. But I can’t think of anything better to do than to help my friend, someone I care for very much. I thought a lot about it and I want to do this for you. With you. You should be fake-married to someone who cares about you, someone that you know and care about.”

You refuse to cry at this gesture. “What about your job?” you ask. “If it gets out somehow that you helped commit fraud with me so that I can get my citizenship, you could not only lose your job, but go to jail. You’re a federal agent.”

Marcus shrugs. “I understand the risks. I want to help you. Plus, I like being engaged,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “So, will you,” he pulls a small black velvet box out from under the table, the one that he was fiddling with, says your name, “marry me?”

You have to admit that it’s the best option you have at the moment. You love Marcus and you are genuinely moved by what he’s doing to help you. Marcus is, in your opinion, husband material through and through. You don’t really have any other answer. “Yes. I will marry you, Marcus.”

- - - -

You know it’s not going to be a real marriage, that you’re only doing this so that you can stay in the States. Still, you can’t help but be over the moon at the prospect of marrying Marcus. He’s assured you multiple times that he’s okay with doing this and that he wants to do this with you.

There are absolutely going to be ground rules. Like who to tell and what to tell them. Only Lily and Nikki know that you need to do this so you give them firm instructions the next night to use their discretion and ask that if they are interviewed by immigration officers that they play it that you and Marcus are in love.

Something that isn’t a stretch for you.

Marcus thinks that you should move in with him into his condo before your courthouse wedding that’s scheduled three weeks from now. It was the earliest the two of you could get. You agree, especially since your lease is coming up for renewal soon. You tell your landlord early that you’re not renewing the lease and that you’re moving out. She doesn’t care, only glad that she is able to increase the rent for the next tenant.

It doesn’t take long to move your things into Marcus’s place. For the time being, you’re going to sleep in the guest room.

The plan is to stay married until you’ve had your citizenship for nine months and then you’re going to file for divorce. Marcus doesn’t seem worried about it affecting your friendship. This is a favour he’s doing you. A very, very big favour.

You end up telling your mother a slightly modified version of events. You’re having trouble with your work visa so Marcus is helping you out. “How is he helping you?” she asks.

“He’s offered to… sponsor my visa,” you settle on.

“That’s so nice of him to do.” She pauses. “Hang on. I thought only spouses or partners could do that?”

Your silence is worth a million words.

Your mom says your full name. “Marrying Marcus? So you can stay there?”

“It was his idea,” you say. “And it’s very generous of him.”

Your mother sighs. “It is, honey. But I’ve seen that show, 90 Day Fiance. It never works out.”

“I know, but that’s a show. This is real life. I know Marcus. I… care about him. And he cares about me. We’re going to make it work.” You won’t tell her that you’re getting a divorce as soon as you’re able to and it no longer looks suspect.

“I just wish I could be there for the wedding, sweetheart.”

You sigh. “I know, Mom. But as soon as we are able to, we’ll hold a reception.”

Settling in at Marcus’s place is easier than you thought it would be. He’s easy to be around. Your schedules are similar enough that you have breakfast and dinner together most nights. Not much has changed since he proposed to you.

Marcus has always been affectionate with the people he cares about. He only increases it a little bit. Holding your hand, kissing your cheek or your forehead. It’s easy. Simple. You like it.

There’s a lot of things that you like—love, even—about this arrangement.

You’ve had your visa extended by another ninety days since informing the correct people about your impending nuptials. Your application process has been expedited as well: Marcus denies having involvement, but you’re sure you remember him mentioning having a buddy in immigration and you’re convinced that Marcus called in a few favours. Usually it takes at least a year, but your caseworker informed you it should take no longer than six months. Marcus still blushes when you kiss him on the cheek when you find out the process will be accelerated.

“Doesn’t it bother you that you won’t be able to date or flirt with anyone?” you ask one night about a week before your wedding.

Marcus frowns. “No? In case you couldn’t tell, I wasn’t drowning in dating opportunities before we decided to do this.” He pauses. “I kind of… I don’t know, scare people off.”

You squeeze his hand. “It’s their loss, Marcus.”

He smiles ruefully. “I know I can come on too strong sometimes. It’s something that I’m working on.” The two of you sit in silence for a minute. He looks at you after a minute, a playful look in his eye. “Why? Are you bothered that you’ll be missing out on dating?”

You chortle. “Please. Like I was doing so well for myself before this.”

Marcus taps your knee with his free hand. “What a pair we make.”

Another minute goes by. “Marcus? You don’t scare me.”

- - - -

The day of your wedding dawns. You never anticipated having a November wedding, but then again, you never anticipated having this type of wedding either.

You and Marcus have breakfast together in his nook. It’s oddly domestic and you can’t quite pinpoint why. He woke up early and made pancakes and bacon and eggs. “We can’t get married on an empty stomach,” he explains as he sets your coffee mug in front of you.

You twist the engagement ring around and around in the car ride over. You’re wearing the nicest dress you have; Marcus is wearing one of his nicer suits. “This is what I was going to wear to the engagement party I was going to have with Teresa. Now, I mostly wear it for the few times I’m needed to testify in a hearing,” he told you when you discussed what the wardrobe for today would be.

You have no one to give you away, so Marcus’s dad, here to be one of the witnesses along with his wife, offers to give you away. It’s a sweet gesture. You’ve always liked Jeremy Pike, so you’re lucky to be his fake daughter-in-law.

Marcus’s step-mom, Rachel, takes pictures. As you’re walking up the aisle, you’re trembling. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Jeremy murmurs so that only you can hear. “You’re in good hands with my son.” You don’t know how much Jeremy Pike knows, but he’s right. You couldn’t have chosen a better husband, even if it is a fraudulent one. You catch Marcus’s soft brown eyes and the look on his face calms your jittery nerves. Taking a deep breath, you make it to where Marcus is waiting with the justice of the peace.

“You look beautiful,” Marcus whispers to you, his lips right at your ear. Your breath catches at the contact and also at the compliment. It’s not a real marriage, you remind yourself. You and Marcus, while about to become husband and wife, are not going to have a traditional husband-and-wife relationship outside of what is necessary to get you your citizenship. Nothing is changing except your relationship status. It doesn’t have to change. He doesn’t want it to. Otherwise, he would have said so.

But, says a little voice in your head, that doesn’t mean that things won’t change.

Having no idea where that thought came from, you take Marcus’s hand in yours and face the justice of the peace. His hand is strong in yours, but gentle. Always a steady hand to hold at any time, including and especially now. This is not brand new information, but it’s something that grounds you in this moment. The ceremony is not long. The justice of the peace says some words, has you and Marcus make your vows, exchange the rings (courtesy of Marcus’s grandparents), and sign the documents. It’s quick. No-fuss and to the point.

“By the power vested in me by the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss each other.”

You don’t catch Marcus’s expression before his lips touch yours but Rachel is quick with her camera, taking a few pictures before, during, and after your kiss. You’ve never kissed Marcus on the lips. On the cheek, yes. You’ve also received forehead kisses from Marcus over the years, but this is a first for you. His lips are soft on yours. It’s a gentle kiss, just a peck more than anything else. You want more. It makes you feel warm, good.

Marcus rests his forehead against yours for a few seconds. He’s smiling, you’re smiling. You’re married. To the man that you love. Only problem is, it’s not a real marriage and will be over before it starts.

Jeremy and Rachel take you and Marcus out for lunch. You and Marcus have the day off and the next few days. You are not going to do anything out of the usual, but you’re going to spend more time together. Get into the pattern of being husband and wife.

When you and Marcus return home that evening, you make dinner together. Sit together at the dining room table and talk about whatever comes to mind. After doing the dishes together (Marcus washes, you dry), you sit on the couch and watch a Nicolas Cage movie on Netflix. It’s easy, comfortable. You snuggle in under the blankie that he’s had for years, the really warm one, and he puts his arm around you, holding you close to him.

Once the movie is over, you say goodnight and go to your separate rooms for bed.

- - - -

Two weeks later, you receive a notification from the immigration department, saying to expect the first of four visits from an officer soon.

“I guess this ends our sleeping in different beds,” says Marcus. The plan is to start sleeping in the same bed, Marcus’s bed, closer to when the officer comes so that it looks less conspicuous and so that you are totally comfortable with each other. That afternoon when you get home from work (Marcus is working late on a case), you return the guest bedroom to its original state and move all of your stuff into Marcus’s bedroom. All of your clothes fit in well with his in the dresser and the closet; it looks like Marcus already made room for your stuff.

You decide to become more affectionate with Marcus. Not that you weren’t already affectionate, but in a way so that it doesn’t seem so scripted when your case worker arrives in a few weeks.

Setting a framed picture of yourself and Marcus on the dresser, you go to make dinner and let your mind wander. Marcus arrives home just as you’re setting dinner in the oven. Pressing pause on Broken Bells, you greet him at the door. “Hey,” you say, drawing him in for a hug and a peck on the lips.

Marcus is surprised. The hug he’s used to, since you always greet him with that, but the kiss takes him off-guard. “Hey to you, too. What was that for?”

“Oh, um, I thought, since the case reviewer is coming soon, we should be more comfortable with each other and physical affection,” you explain.

Marcus tries to hide his disappointment. A part of him hoped that he was doing this because you are starting to reciprocate his feelings. But of course, it’s for the sake of authenticity. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense,” he replies, swallowing down his disappointment. “But I think we need more practice than just that,” he teases.

Your eyes twinkle. “I think that’s reasonable.”

Marcus kisses you again and you nearly float away, forgetting for a second that this is only for the purpose of appearances; he makes it feel so real. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Long. Do I have time to shower before dinner?” he asks.

You point at the timer on the oven. “Lots. Take your time.”

Half an hour later, Marcus freshly showered and in a grey sweatshirt and some pajama pants, you sit down for dinner. He looks cozy. “I should have helped you with dinner. I’m sorry,” he apologizes as you set his plate in front of him.

You kiss his cheek. “It’s fine. I like doing this sort of thing. And you had a long day at work.”

Marcus digs into his meal. “How was your day?” he asks.

After dinner, Marcus helps you with tidy-up despite your protestations that he should sit down. You can tell that he’s exhausted. “I want to help,” he argues, brooking no denial. So the two of you wash the dishes in companionable silence. It’s nice. You wash and he dries.

“Can I?” Marcus asks, gesturing to your face.

“Huh?” Marcus reaches out and wipes soap suds from your cheek, wiping them from his hand with the dish towel. Your face flushes warm. “Oh. Thanks,” you say.

“You’re welcome.” And then he kisses you again. This one doesn’t feel staged or scripted, like it’s for the purpose of appearances and fooling the right people. This one feels like he wants to kiss you. That he’s doing it simply for the sake of kissing you. It could be for practice, but you don’t think so. His lips are soft against yours. Gentle but with a hint of neediness. Perhaps the neediness is yours? You can’t tell. His stubble tickles at your skin in the best possible way. The dish towel falls from his hand as he brings both his hands to rest at your waist. Yours grasp at the fabric of his FBI shirt.

After about half a minute of kissing like this, Marcus pulls away. His cheeks are flushed pink, his eyes are still closed. You have a hard time reading his expression, even when his eyes open. The question of “why did you kiss me?” is on your tongue, ready to be asked. But you find that you don’t want to hear the answer if it is what you fear. And you don’t want to shake this feeling that his kiss has given you.

You feel warm and cherished and you want to do that again. Not for the sake of the charade. Just because. You’re just friends with him. You just happen to be married to him as well. But friends don’t kiss their friends the way you were kissing him just now, even if it is just for show.

Uh-oh. You’re in trouble.

When it comes time for bed, you get into your jammies as Marcus is brushing his teeth in the ensuite bathroom. You know what side of the bed is his, so you take the other side, reading a book as he finishes getting ready for bed.

You’re both adults. Who happen to be married to each other. You can share a bed with your husband. You are not going to overthink this at all. Just like how you’re not currently overthinking the kiss from earlier.

Marcus comes out from the bathroom as you’re finishing your chapter. You mark your page, put the book on the night table and look up at him. He looks…nervous? Good to know you’re not the only one who’s overthinking all of this.

After a second’s hesitation, Marcus gets into bed. “If this isn’t okay I can go to the guest room or the couch or—”

“Shut up, Marcus. We’re both adults. We’re married for chrissakes. It’s just sharing a bed. Just sleeping.” You sound more sure of yourself than you feel, but it must work since Marcus, after another minute of deliberation, gets into the bed.

It’s late, you’re both tired. Marcus sets his alarm for tomorrow morning, plugs in his phone and switches his bedside lamp off. You follow suit and you’re plunged into darkness. “Is this okay?” he asks after a minute.

“Yep,” you reply. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, honey.”

It takes a few minutes of getting used to, but the bed is so warm and comfy. It feels slept in unlike the bed in the guest bedroom. In the darkness, the only light coming from the clock radio’s time display, you can see Marcus’s sleeping silhouette. He’s a side sleeper, currently facing you.

You can do this. You can pull off being fake married to him. You can sleep in the same bed as your husband.

With that, you fall asleep.

- - - -

When you wake up the next morning, the light is dim. You can hear rain on the windows. You’re warm and feel like you’re cocooned. You’re on your side, facing the wall in the opposite direction of Marcus’s side of the bed. The thick duvet is warm and plush, but that’s not the primary source of your warmth. As you wake up, you realize that your back is pressed up to something firm. Something that feels suspiciously like Marcus’s chest. Marcus is still sound asleep. His arms are locked around your waist.

Oh. You ignore the thought of how easily and quickly you could get used to this. All of it, really. The way his legs are tangled with yours right now. The way he cares. How easy it was to fall into a routine with him. If this wasn’t fake, you could see a life with Marcus Pike like this. How easy it would be—how easy it is— to love and be married to Marcus Pike for real.

With that sobering thought, you wrangle free from his hold, gentle enough that he doesn’t wake. He snuffles in his sleep and rolls over. You grab a towel from the walk-in closet and go to the bathroom for a shower. There’s not a lot of time until Marcus’s alarm goes off. You’re quick, knowing that Marcus will need to use the bathroom soon. You’re just finishing up when his alarm goes off.

He’s bleary-eyed when you come out from the ensuite bathroom dressed and ready for the day. “Morning,” you say.

Marcus’s voice is sleepy. “Morning, sweetheart.” He’s rumpled and he has a major bedhead. You resist the urge to run your fingers through his soft-looking brown locks. “Did you sleep well?” he asks.

It was the best sleep you’ve gotten in ages. You nod. “Mmm-hmmm.”

Marcus yawns and stretches. The bedclothes are around his waist. As he stretches, his shirt rises up, showing off a sliver of tummy. You avert your gaze before you stare for too long. Get it together, you tell yourself.

“Um… I’m done in the bathroom if you need to use it,” you say awkwardly.

Marcus nods and he gets up from bed. If you’re not careful, you could get used to this a bit too much.

After he’s showered, he comes into the kitchen where you’re making toast for yourself. “Let me drive you to work today,” he offers as you hand him a mug of coffee, made just the way he likes it. “Thank you,” he adds, kissing your cheek before taking a sip. You somehow make his coffee better than he does.

“Aren’t you going to be busy with the case? From the sounds of it you’ve got your hands full with it and I don’t want to take you away from your work if I don’t have to.” The idea is tempting, but you’d feel guilty if his work was slowed down because of you.

Marcus is unconcerned. “Nah. Most of what needs doing today is filing evidence and paperwork. And you don’t take me away from anything,” he assures you.

He’s just saying that to be nice, but it makes you feel better about it all the same. “All right, if you’re sure.”

It’s raining, which brings a dampness to the already cold November air, so you’re glad for the lift. Your car is a bit of a lemon, especially when it comes to heating. Meanwhile, Marcus’s FBI-issued SUV is relatively new and has almost, if not all, the bells and whistles; it makes for a warm ride over to the museum. He drops you off as close to the front door of the Smithsonian as possible. You clutch an umbrella in one hand, your purse in the other, hood already up. “Have a good day, sweetheart. I’ll see you later,” says Marcus.

“You too, Marcus.” Your hand is on the door handle, ready to get out, but something makes you turn back to face him. He has that tender look on his face and he leans in. You meet him in the middle.

It’s a quick, almost chaste kiss. If your hands weren’t full, you’d cup his cheek. He’s really committing to the bit.

“I’ll see you later,” you whisper when you force yourself to pull away. “Thanks for the lift.”

On your lunch, you get a phone call from the case worker for your immigration. There’s an opening in his schedule to bump up your preliminary meeting and subsequent meetings if that’s convenient for you and Marcus. “Um, sure. I think that we can get things organized for that as far as work goes. When are you thinking?” you ask.

“November 24. I know it’s only a few days from now and I apologize for the short notice. I can send a letter to your bosses if need be.”

Today is November 21. That only gives you two days, not counting today, to get ready. You clear your throat. “I–I think that can be manageable.”

The case worker—John, you think his name is—confirms it with you, gives you a window of time when to expect him and what to expect. “It’s just a preliminary meeting. Some basic questions and whatnot. Nothing to be worried about.”

Right. You thank him and call Marcus immediately after hanging up.

“Do you think you can get out of work on Thursday? I just got a call from the immigration agent. Says he has an opening for our preliminary meeting.”

Marcus pauses for a minute. “I think so. Yes. Let me just move some things around, re-assign some things and I should be good.”

“Okay. Thanks. How’s work today?” you ask.

He chuckles. “It’s fine. How about you?”

And that’s what starts your daily lunchtime phone calls with your husband. When he picks you up a few hours later, you’re chilled to the bone, both from the damp, cold day and the icy cold wind, as well as from working in the temperature controlled basement. Stepping into his car and into his world, warms you right up. Setting down your purse and wet umbrella, you greet him, cupping his cheek this time when he kisses you hello.

A savoury scent from the backseat greets you as well once Marcus sets the SUV into drive. “I picked up dinner on the way over. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like cooking and I just want to get under the blankets on the couch.”

It’s like he read your mind.

- - - -

“I think I’m in love with my wife.” Marcus sits back on the plush couch at his therapist’s office the next day after dropping you off at work again.

His therapist, Dr. Kate Solana, frowns. “You think you are?” she asks, pushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear. She’s a younger therapist than Marcus would have originally envisioned having for himself; he’s certain she’s younger than him. The first session, he thought that she looked more like a fitness instructor than a therapist. But she’s good at what she does. She’s helped Marcus change some of his ways of interacting with people for the better.

Marcus sighs. “You know why I married her.”

Dr. Solana nods. “Yes. To help her. But you were friends with her before marrying her.”

“Best friends,” Marcus clarifies.

Dr. Solana looks at her notes. “You said that you had an agreement that you would stay married until it no longer looked suspicious. Are you having second thoughts?” she asks.

He hesitates for a minute, thinking about his answer. “Not really? I’m still committed to the act. I just don’t think I can call it an act anymore. At least on my part.”

The therapist nods, contemplative. “What exactly is the problem?” she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.

Marcus opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again after a minute. Still thinking of how to answer. “I know that I’m… too much sometimes. I come on too intensely.” He says it as a fact. He knows it’s true, knows it’s why his past relationships have failed. Why he’s had a failed marriage and a broken engagement. He can feel himself coming on too strongly with you, even if you think it’s for the purposes of acting natural when the immigration officer arrives on Thursday. It isn’t an act for him; he doesn’t think it ever has been. Dr. Solana doesn’t say anything, allowing him to think out loud and verbalize his feelings and his thoughts. “I don’t want that to happen with my wife. I don’t want to scare her off. I made an agreement with her and I intend to keep that promise. I’m just not sure how I’ll take it when it comes time to file for divorce. I thought, stupidly perhaps, that I could do it. That I could just pretend, but I can’t pretend. It’s never been pretend with her.”

There’s a long pause. “Are you saying that you want to tell her how you feel or…?”

Marcus sighs. “I don’t know how I could. She thinks it’s pretend. It’s an act for her. Surely it is. My wife is a person who takes what she wants. She would have told me how she felt already, wouldn’t she?” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Dr. Solana waits a couple of seconds before she speaks. “The foundation for every relationship, romantic or otherwise, is communication and honesty. You can’t have trust without open, honest communication. My advice to you? Tell her how you really feel. It doesn’t have to be with some grand gesture or anything like that. It can be as simple as sitting her down and telling her that you have genuine feelings for her. Do you worry that she will reject you?”

“If she turns me down, the thing I would worry about the most is that we wouldn’t be friends anymore. Above all, what I want is for her to be in my life, in any capacity,” Marcus admits. And it’s in that moment that he knows that he truly loves you.

“Tell her that. Tell her the truth. It will only make things that much harder if you don’t. She might surprise you and feel the same way. It could be that she’s not telling you how she feels because she’s worried you’re just pretending.”

Marcus opens and shuts his mouth again. He hadn’t thought about it like that before.

The rest of the day goes by without any significance. He picks you up at five. Dr. Solana’s words of advice echo in his ears all day. He’s not going to tell you right now. Not with the immigration officer coming the day after tomorrow. Marcus knows you have a lot on your plate with that. He doesn’t want to add to the worry that you have.

He’ll tell you when the meetings with immigration are about to begin in just over twenty-four hours. He knows it’s prolonging everything, but he could see a life with you. Beyond just a green-card marriage. Marcus would do it again for you if asked. He’d do pretty much anything you ask him. Above all, he just wants you to be happy.

You lean your head on his shoulder. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” you ask, cutting through his ruminations.

“Huh?” Marcus blinks. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

Removing your head from his shoulder, you look at him. “Everything okay?”

Marcus smiles at you. Kisses your forehead. “Everything’s fine. Just a bit of a long day.”

It’s not a lie. He is fine. He did have a long day. He just hasn’t told you that he’s in love with you.

“You missed.”

He blinks. “What?” he asks.

“You missed,” you repeat, as if that clarifies things.

Marcus is about to ask what you mean when you press your lips to his. This one somehow feels different to the other kisses you’ve exchanged. Like you’re not pretending. Like you are kissing him for the sake of kissing him. It takes a few seconds for Marcus’s brain to catch up, for his lips to respond to yours.

Your husband can kiss. This isn’t one of those tender kisses, not one of those chaste ones. No, this one has heat and passion. His teeth graze your lips at one point, nibbling at them as he continues to kiss you. By the time you’ve broken apart for air, you’re practically sitting in his lap.

Letting out a bit of a shaky, breathy laugh, you joke, “We’re getting pretty good at this.”

Marcus’s grin is this side of devilish. “I think we need more practice.” And he kisses you again.

- - - -

Thursday morning dawns blearily. It’s cloudy and overcast, the sun refusing to come out from its grey shroud.

The condo is in tip-top shape. It looks lived in by both you and Marcus, like this is your home that you’ve shared for longer than three weeks. The case worker is arriving just before ten. Your nerves are on high alert.

Something’s changed with Marcus in the last few days. He’s still the same Marcus, but he seems more into committing to this act. You never knew he was such a good actor before this. Which doesn’t make sense. You’ve seen him act surprised at birthdays and such and he never gave off this Oscar worthy performance. This is a man who is an open book. Maybe he’s committed to this act because he knows that you have a lot to lose if the act isn’t bought.

It’s a bit heartbreaking you have to admit, knowing that this is all an act on his part. You’ve hoped that he would take the bait and realize that it isn’t an act for you. And maybe it never has been. You nearly broke down at girl’s night last night, lamenting to Nikki and Lily that your fake marriage is more real than you ever thought it would be, that you’re in love with your husband and he’s only pretending to be in love with you for the sake of your green card.

It’s a kindness he’s done for you, helping you obtain your green card like this. But you want it to be real so badly. You don’t want to get a divorce, but you know that Marcus will want one so he can be with someone he wants to be with.

“Just have sex with him!” suggested Nikki the night before. “That’ll definitely give him the hint that you want this to be a real marriage!”

You’d shaken your head. “No. That’s playing dirty, I feel like. Marcus, while he does deserve a good lay, needs to be told in an honest, upfront way. I just thought that he would not be so slow on the uptake, you know?” You sighed. “Maybe he doesn’t feel the way I thought he did. Maybe he’s just doing this so committed to better sell the story.”

Lily and Nikki both protested. They both argued that you just need to tell Marcus how you feel. “You always go after what you want. It’s a trait that I really admire in you. But I’m really confused as to why you’re not going after Marcus. Why you’re not telling him how you really feel and hiding behind this charade,” Lily said, not in an unkind way.

You’d taken a big, fortifying sip of your long island iced tea. “I’m just… scared,” you admitted. “I’m scared that I’m wrong about how he feels and that it’ll end the entire relationship, including our friendship.”

Nikki had placed her hand on yours, Lily following suit. “Or, he could feel the same way. And maybe he’s not telling you or taking the bait because he has the same worries that you’re having.”

When you’d arrived home later that night, Marcus was already in bed, reading a book. You’d quickly gotten ready for bed and curled up next to him, still slightly buzzed from your drink. Marcus kissed you on the forehead gently and tucked in next to you.

The buzzer distracts you from your reverie. “Ready?” asks Marcus.

You nod wordlessly.

Places, everyone.

The agent knocks on the door a few minutes later. You take Marcus’s hand in yours. Not so much for the act, but for reassurance. He twines your fingers together and offers a nod of encouragement before he opens the door.

“Agent Pike, Mrs. Pike, hello.” It’s the first time someone has referred to you as Mrs. Pike. You like it. “I’m John Turner, and I’m your assigned immigration officer.”

You and Marcus welcome him into the condo. You take agent Turner’s coat as Marcus offers him something to drink.

When you rejoin them, Turner is taking in the condo, a watchful, studious eye observing, trying to see if anything is amiss. There’s a folder tucked under his arm, presumably with your case information.

Marcus carries a tray into the living room with two cups of coffee for you and him and a glass of water for Agent Turner.

“So first things first,” says Turner as he sits on the chair opposite the love seat that you and Marcus sit down on, your entwined hands resting on your knee. “This isn’t an interrogation. Neither of you are in any sort of trouble. This is all standard stuff. Just to make sure everything’s accurate and as it should be so that you can get your citizenship. This is just the preliminary meeting. There will be an additional two meetings after this one, plus some discussion with the references you’ve provided,” he explains.

You nod. “Thanks so much for speeding up this process for us. It saves us both so much needless anxiety.”

“Of course. Shall we get to it?”

The questions start out basic. Full names, countries of origin, birthdates. Easy.

“When did the two of you start seeing each other?“ asks Agent Turner.

Marcus answers this question. “Five months ago.”

The immigration agent raises an eyebrow. “You got married after dating for four and a half months?”

You take this one. “Yes. We were going to wait to get married, but then I got the news about my visa expiring sooner than I thought and neither of us wanted to wait,” you explain. “And when you know, you know.” You look at Marcus affectionately. “I think I knew pretty early on.”

Marcus returns the smile. “I’ve been married and engaged before. It never felt the way it feels with her. There’s a clarity with her that didn’t exist with my ex-wife and ex-fiancée. I just want her to be happy, I would have gladly gone to Canada with her and joined the Canadian equivalent of the FBI if it meant I could be with her.”

You nod. “I know how it looks, Agent Turner. But I’m married to Marcus because I love him and didn’t want to be separated from him. It was his idea to get married so he could sponsor my citizenship application. My job is contract based and not permanent, so my boss couldn’t sponsor it. Being married to the man I love was the top priority. Him sponsoring my visa and citizenship is just an added benefit.”

Agent Turner scribbles down all that you are saying, his phone also recording everything that is being said. “I see. And what are your plans should you be accepted? Likewise if your application is rejected?”

You think for a second. “If I’m accepted and receive citizenship, I’ll continue what I’m doing now. Stay married to Marcus, do my work as an art restorer. If I’m rejected, I’ll go back to Canada.”

“With me,” adds Marcus. He doesn’t need to add more; you’d discussed it this morning, that his answer to this question would be simple and to the point. He feels the need to continue, however. “Truthfully, agent, I’d go anywhere if it meant being with her. She’s one of the best parts of my life. I can’t imagine a life without her. She makes me so happy and I love her more than I have loved anyone else. It feels like I have known her for years. To know her is to love her. And if she’s deported, there’s nothing that would stop me from following her to Canada. Yes, part of why I married her is so that she can stay here, her life is here now. But I married her because I wanted to. I love her. I want to spend my life with her.”

Your heart is about to burst with emotion and love for Marcus. He didn’t have to say all that. You just wish it was true.

All the same, you add, “Being married to Marcus is something that is just so wonderful. I’ve loved him for a long time. We’ve been friends for years, but being his wife is just so much sweeter because of it. I’m married to my best friend. He’s the love of my life and I’m just so lucky that I have him as my husband. He talked about how he would follow me anywhere to be with me and it’s the same for me. I’d go with him anywhere if it meant being together. Home is wherever he is.” You look at Marcus, the emotional look on your face hopefully saying everything that you can’t put into words.

Just because Marcus probably didn’t fully mean what he said, doesn’t mean you can’t mean what you say.

- - - -

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly. He’s there for about an hour total. When he leaves, your shoulders immediately relax; while Marcus was a calming influence during the meeting, you couldn’t help but be nervous and tense.

Marcus makes lunch in silence. You watch his back as he makes some sandwiches, the movement of his back muscles beneath his dress shirt. You can’t take it anymore. “Why did you say those things?” you ask.

Marcus turns, butter knife paused in midair between the bread and the jar of mayonnaise. “What things?” he asks.

“The things about following me anywhere and all that.”

Marcus pauses, his heart in his throat. “I said those things…” He takes a breath, sees you watching him intently. “I said those things because they are true.”

You gasp softly. “You did?”

He nods. “I did. I’m in love with you, I think I have been for a while. It just took a while for me to catch up.”

Your eyes narrow. “Is that why you offered to marry me?”

“Not entirely. I didn’t want you to get married to someone you didn’t know or like. My intentions were always platonic. But then… I don’t know. My heart and my brain caught up with each other. But I was just so worried that you didn’t feel the same. That this was still just an act for you.”

It takes a full sixty seconds to process what he’s said. Something finally clicks in your mind. And then you burst into laughter. At Marcus’s confused look, you explain, “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I thought the same thing. Because here’s the thing. I’m in love with you. And I was worried that you were just committed to the bit.”

Marcus’s look turns from confusion to realization. “You love me?” He’s still in a bit of disbelief. “All this time I thought you were committed to the act, but you’ve been trying to show me that you want more.”

You nod, realizing the same thing about Marcus’s actions. “So, we’ve both been thinking that the other is under the impression that this was still an act when we’ve both wanted more?” you surmise.

Marcus chuckles. “That’s about the long and short of it, yeah.”

“God, we’re a bunch of obtuse idiots,” you quip before closing the ever shorter gap between you and Marcus. The contact between your mouths is instant and electric. The butter knife that Marcus was still grasping clatters to the floor as he greedily kisses you, his arms wrapping around you, wanting you—needing you—closer to him. He takes you into his arms, his lips never far, and hoists you up onto the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as you make out with him, sensual and sloppy and greedy. Your lipstick has transferred some to his lips. He doesn’t care. “Christ, honey, I’ve wanted you so bad for so long.”

You nod. “Me, too,” you gasp out. Marcus is pressed up enough against you that you can feel just how much he wants you, the effect you have on him. “I think we’ve waited long enough. I think it’s time we consummate this marriage. Make it real.”

Marcus doesn’t need to be told twice. Helping you down from the countertop, he leads you to the bedroom. (“As much as I want to fuck you on every surface in this house, our first time should be in our bed, honey,” he explains.)

He has you spread out on the bed. His shirt has been shucked off, his pants strewn across the room. You’ve seen him in just his swimsuit before, but in this context? Totally different. You’re practically salivating over the sight of your husband—your husband—like this, looking at you the way he is. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing kisses into every inch of skin he exposes as he helps you out of your sweater dress and leggings. “So fucking beautiful.” He kisses you on the lips with a toe-curling kiss. You haven’t even done that much yet and he already has you desperate. You grapple at his shoulders, sighing into the kiss.

“I love you,” you say in between kisses. “I love you.”

He kisses down your chest, taking extra time at the spot where your neck meets your chest, your breasts. His fingers toy with the hemline of your panties. You whine as he presses a kiss right above them. “I love you.”

The last layer of your clothing gone, Marcus goes straight to work, making you even more desperate. He’s generous and he’s methodical. He’s a giver.

It’s not very long before your husband has you reaching your first peak. Your fingers, which are twisted in his soft brown hair, tighten and he groans in pleasure. Satisfied with himself, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you.”

He doesn’t give you much time to recover, just enough time to grab a condom from the night table drawer. You are clean and on the pill but you’re still beyond words to tell him that. Next time.

Before you have fully processed what is happening, Marcus has buried himself inside you, inch by inch. He gives you a second to adjust (your latent suspicions about his size confirmed) and then he moves. “Marcus, oh my God,” you gasp, your voice reedy with need.

“T-take what you need,” he stutters, your hips snapping against his as you move together.

“You—you too,” you manage to stammer out.

Neither of you last long, all of the pent up feelings quickly coming to the surface. Your need for him supersedes everything else. Marcus stills and groans, kissing you through your collective high.

He’s still inside you as you both settle down. You kiss his shoulder, his neck then pull back, still breathless. “Why the hell did we wait so long to do that?” you ask once you’ve caught your breath a little.

Marcus shakes his head. “I have no idea. But we’re going to make up for missing out on it for so long. I promise, Mrs. Pike.” His eyes twinkle and you can see how happy he is to be able to call you that.

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Pike.” You kiss the tip of his nose.

Lunch goes forgotten until you stumble out of the bedroom a few rounds later to get something to eat and drink.

- - - -

Two years later…

“Honey, are we getting a divorce this year?” Marcus asks as he nips at your neck from behind you.

You reach back to touch his face. “Mmmm… I don’t think so. I’m too used to being married to you now. Maybe next year.”

Marcus spins you so that you’re facing him. He’s still warm and sweaty from what you were just doing a few minutes ago. “Mmmm…” he growls before capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. “Me too.”

It isn’t long before you’re on top of him again; he’s still inside you so not much effort is needed. It’s been two years of absolute bliss. The rest of your application process went smoothly and it didn’t take long until you had received full citizenship (you and Marcus had been otherwise occupied when the phone call came). You took the last citizenship test needed and passed with flying colours.

Since then, you’ve left the Smithsonian and relocated to the Jeffersonian, acting as the official liaison to the FBI’s art department in a permanent position. Not long after receiving your green card, you and Marcus hosted a wedding reception where your mom finally got to meet your husband. It was there that Rachel finally gave you the wedding photos. The one she took of you and Marcus right before the kiss that made you husband and wife hangs in your bedroom, showing the mutual love and awe that you and Marcus share for each other long before either of you fully realized it.

Your honeymoon, taken a month after you received full citizenship, was nothing short of magical. Marcus took you to Mallorca and you spent two weeks soaking up the sun (that is, once you broke in the bed a few times together once you arrived at the villa you were renting).

You and Marcus are a team. A true husband and wife. Sure, you have problems every now and again, but it’s nothing that you can’t solve together. You’re a team, and nothing is hidden from each other, always on the same page as each other.

Divorce has become a running joke between you; it’s the last thing either of you wants. You’re happy together, you’re going to spend the rest of your lives together. He feels like home, he’s a steady, sturdy force in your life that you were missing up until marrying him. And you’re the same for him. You never thought it would end up this way, but you’re so glad and so lucky that it did. You are married to your best friend. Life can’t be sweeter than that.

The End

--- taglist in reblog.

#pedro pascal #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #my fic #my writing #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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