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scuderiahoney · 2 months

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Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri, roommates!au

Masterlist

Summary: You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it. featuring dj!Lando for cece :) based on a blurb I wrote for my 1k celebration so if the first bit feels familiar that’s why! 7.4k words

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), illness, a breakup, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

Lando’s not expecting the phone call he gets from you. It’s late, too late, really, for him to even be awake, let alone for you to be calling. Oscar’s sitting on the couch next to him, gaming controller in hand, and when Lando swipes to answer the call, he mouths the words who is it? Lando mouths your name in reply, and Oscar’s half asleep flat expression turns into a look of concern. The three of you are roommates, but you’re gone for the night. Lando didn’t ask where you were going when you left.

“Hello?” He asks, waiting for your response.

There’s a sniffle, then a hiccupy gasp for air that has Lando sitting up straight in his seat. “Lan. Could you- fuck, m’sorry, just- d’you think you could pick me up?”

Lando stares widely at Oscar for a moment, heart clenching in his chest. You sound upset- more than upset, really. He stands up, already searching frantically for his keys.

“Yeah, love, of course,” he says as Oscar follows suit and stands up. “Should I bring Oscar?”

You sniffle again. “Yeah, please, just…”

“It’s okay. Send me your location, yeah? Take a deep breath, we’ll be there soon.”

You mumble something, and then you hang up on him. Lando shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up at Oscar, who’s holding the keys to his car. That works. Oscar heads for the door, while Lando makes a pit stop in the kitchen. When he meets his friend in the entryway, Oscar’s staring at him with confusion.

“She’s crying,” Lando says in explanation, holding a paper bag close to his chest.

They make it across town in record time. Oscar groans when they pull into the apartment complex you’d sent the location of.

“Isn’t this her boyfriend’s place?” He asks, brows furrowed.

Lando doesn’t get a chance to answer, because you step out of the front door, and they’re both distracted. Oscar swears under his breath, and Lando follows suit at the sight of you- you’re in a t-shirt and shorts. There’s snow on the ground. Oscar pulls his hoodie over his head just before you make it to the car door.

You climb into the backseat and collapse in on yourself. Both Lando and Oscar are turned towards you, and Lando’s sure their facial expressions are matching looks of concern. They both hand over their items without a word- Oscar’s hoodie, and Lando’s carton of ice cream and a spoon. You pull the hoodie over your head and open the ice cream.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Oscar says, voice low.

Lando nods. “Yeah. We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”

You nod and chew on your lower lip, and the light from the street lamp outside catches on the tear tracks on your cheeks. “He dumped me. Can we just go home?”

Lando reaches his hand back to squeeze yours. Your fingers are ice cold. “Of course,” he says softly.

As Oscar pulls away, he and Lando exchange a look of worry and anger. They’ve never liked your boyfriend, but they hate to see you hurting, too.

“Thanks,” you add, voice small in the backseat. You hold onto Lando’s hand tightly. “I knew I could count on you guys.”

Lando squeezes your hand again. You’re quiet most of the way back, and he lets it go. Oscar’s right to not push you to talk about it. That’ll come in its own time.

Oscar drives back to your shared apartment, pulling into a parking space in the garage. He gets out before Lando and slips around to the backseat, opening the door for you. The Aussie wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

When you all get upstairs, you collapse onto the couch. Lando follows suit, not wanting to leave your side. Oscar isn’t far behind. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, something quiet that Lando doesn’t pay attention to. He just watches you for signs of distress. You stare at the tv blankly and chip away at the ice cream with your spoon, leaning on Oscar as Lando leans on you. Slowly, the three of you melt into the couch, none of you wanting to break the silence and suggest going to bed.

…..

Oscar wakes up on the couch at 3 in the morning, and when he looks around, this awful feeling hits him. It’s like someone’s reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. You’re laying there, your head on his stomach, one of your arms over his thigh. Lando’s laying nearly on top of you- together, the three of you are like a stack of toppled dominoes. There are blankets strewn over all of you. Oscar can vaguely remember Lando’s attempt to cover all three of you up as you all began to drift off.

You’re fast asleep, and when Oscar peers down at you he can still see the tear tracks on your cheeks. He’s never liked your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, now, thank god- but breakups are awful no matter what. He’s got half a mind to go over and confront the guy, because who leaves their girlfriend- ex girlfriend- to walk out of their apartment in the dead of winter in a t-shirt and shorts? Even if you had broken up, he seemingly hadn’t given you the chance to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. Or maybe you hadn’t wanted to stay long enough.

Lando shifts in his sleep, pressing closer to you. It’s only now that Oscar notices Lando’s hand linked with yours, fingers knitted together on your stomach. A pang of something flares up in him at the sight, at how right it feels to have you both right here like this. He does his best to tamp it down. He brushes his fingers against your cheek tentatively, relaxing just a bit at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.

You nudge into the touch, eyelids just barely fluttering. Oscar wonders to himself how anyone could ever let you go. The sight of you in the backseat, teary eyed in his hoodie, is burned into the back of his brain. He’d do anything to keep you from ever crying again.

When he wakes up again, it’s much later in the morning. You and Lando are both gone, and something about that makes his heart clench. But he hears noise in the kitchen- Lando, talking to someone, the sound of food sizzling on the stove. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes before trudging his way over there.

Lando’s at the stove, cooking something that smells awfully delicious and makes Oscar’s stomach growl. You’re sitting on the counter nearby the way you always do, still in Oscar’s hoodie, hands folded in your lap. You’re the first one to spot him- you smile, but it’s subdued. There’s a tinge of sadness to it. Something aching behind your eyes.

“Morning,” he finally says.

Lando turns over his shoulder with a smile. “I was just about to send her to wake you,” he says. “I made breakfast.”

Oscar nods. “Thanks. Smells really good.”

He takes his normal spot on a stool at the kitchen island. He passes by both of you on the way there, and you reach out to squeeze his upper arm. He brushes a hand over your knee and smiles at you.

You’re quiet. Usually, you’d be chatting their ears off. But Lando plates up the food and distributes it without a word from you, and it has Oscar feeling sick to his stomach. You stay sitting on the counter, and you push the food around on your plate with one hand. Lando sits next to Oscar and exchanges a look with him.

Both boys clear their plates without a word from you. You’ve only taken a few bites. Oscar clears his throat as he clears his and Lando’s plates. Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

“I stand by what I said last night. We don’t have to talk,” he says. “But if you want to talk, we’re here.”

You shift and smile just a little. “Not much to talk about, really. The breakup has been coming for a long time, I think. So. It’s fine, really. Just weird, you know? We’d been dating for a year- that’s a year of my life… not wasted, but. Weird to lose someone like that so quickly.”

Both Oscar and Lando nod in understanding. You nod back. That’s that. If you don’t want to talk about it more, they won’t force you. It’s enough to know you’re safe at home, really.

…..

When Lando has his first DJ set after your break up, he begs you to come and watch. Much to his and Oscar’s surprise, you agree eagerly. They’d both thought it would be a harder fight. Lando’s been getting bigger and bigger DJ gigs- not enough to quit his day job yet, but enough to get excited about. You haven’t been to them recently, which had been a bit of a sore spot for Lando, though he’d tried not to let it on to you. So. If you want to go, he’s not going to question you on it.

On the way there, you size him up in the back of the Uber. You tug at the collar of his shirt.

“You’re too buttoned up,” you say, nose wrinkled.

Oscar laughs and nods. “Yeah, lose a button,” he adds.

He reaches over and undoes the top button of Lando’s shirt with nimble fingers, and great, now Lando’s sweating.

“Or two,” you chime in.

When you reach up and undo another button, Lando thinks the blush must be obvious on his cheeks now. It’s probably running down his neck, washing over his chest, just like the soft touch of your fingers against his skin.

“Why not three?” Oscar says, smirking.

Before he can undo the third one, Lando bats Oscar’s hand away and glares at him. Oscar’s had a shot before they left the apartment, pregaming because he hates crowds and loud places and social environments. He’s definitely a little tipsy, and because of that, he’s a bit more daring. It’s going to be the death of Lando.

By the time he’s halfway through the set, Lando’s gone and lost both of you in the crowd. He won’t lie, it makes him a bit nervous. He knows you were there one second, and then the next time he looked, you were both gone. He knows in his head Oscar won’t have let you out of his sight, but it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching. He thinks of his phone, down under the stage, itches to have it in his hand so he can text or call or find you, somehow.

When he finally climbs down and grabs his phone, it’s lit up with a bunch of notifications. He swipes past the ones from Max asking how late his set goes, past the ones from friends who stopped by, telling him how good he did. In the middle, there’s a text from Oscar.

Call when you’re done.

He calls. When Oscar answers, he gives him directions to meet the two of you in a bathroom and then promptly hangs up. Lando would be more concerned with the two of you apparently hiding out together in a bathroom if Oscar hadn’t told him about it. He doesn’t have the energy to let himself get jealous. He just heads towards the two of you. He knocks on the single bathroom door, calls out to Oscar, and it swings open.

“She had a little too much,” Oscar says.

Behind him, you’re kneeling next to the toilet, Oscar’s jacket underneath your knees. It’s such a sweet touch that it makes Lando’s heart ache- there’s just something about seeing Oscar taking care of you. But he does his best to focus and steps into the bathroom. Your hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Your skin is pale, and when you turn to look at Lando, your eyes are bloodshot. He hisses and turns to Oscar.

“I know, I know, I said I’d watch her-“ Oscar says, raising his hands defensively. “She’s good at pretending to be sober. Until she’s way too far gone, and then…”

“Lan!” you call out, high pitched and wobbly. “I love you.”

Lando widens his eyes at Oscar, who nods.

“There’s been a lot of that. About both of us. She was not happy when I pulled her out of sight of you.” Oscar sighs. “I can’t figure out if it’s just- you know, she loves her friends, or-“

Oscar trails off. Lando furrows his brows.

“Lan,” you repeat again, and he turns over his shoulder to look at you, then tries not to visibly wince. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, love,” he says, softly. “You done throwing up, you okay to move?”

You shrug, then nod. Great. Not super convincing. When he turns to Oscar, he winces. Lando drags a hand down his own face. Interrogating Oscar will have to wait- the first priority is to get the three of you out of there, hopefully without you throwing up on them. He sighs heavily and makes a plan in his head.

Lando’s not sure what god he pleased, what good karma he’s earned, but the three of you make it outside without you throwing up again. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then he and Oscar spend 5 minutes debating on whether walking or getting a ride would be better- you’re drunk and wobbly, but at least if you threw up, it’d be on the sidewalk. Oscar hates that idea, is worried about you tripping and falling on the way, about how they’ll manage to get you all the way back. You stand there and watch them argue, Oscar’s hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over.

“Boys, stop fighting,” you say hazily. “You’re both so pretty.”

Lando’s eyes go wide at that. He stares at Oscar, who seems to make a face that says I know. Lando turns to you. You’re smiling widely up at him, blinking glassy eyes and tilting your head. You reach out and tap your fingertip against his nose, then laugh. Lando swallows tightly.

Oscar uses his distraction to flag down a cab. Lando can’t find the energy to argue anymore. They’d normally put you in the middle, but this time they sit you next to the door, just in case you do need to throw up. You spend the entire ride with your head on Lando’s shoulder, and he can tell you’re starting to get drowsy just from the way you sag against him. When they climb out of the car, Oscar puts one of your arms over his shoulder, and Lando does the same on the other side.

By the time they get you up to the apartment and into the bathroom, you’re half asleep, leaning heavily on both of them. When your hand slips against the bare skin of his chest, he swallows tightly. Oscar puts toothpaste on the toothbrush for you, and Lando helps you brush your teeth, his hand wrapped around yours gently.

Then they head for your bedroom. Lando grabs you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from your dresser. He sets them on the bed and gets ready to leave the room so you can change, and then slaps his hand over his eyes when you start to take off your dress before he even gets the chance. He hears Oscar’s hand hit his own face, too.

“We live together,” you say, and Lando can practically hear your eye roll. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Lando sighs. “It is, and you’re drunk, so.”

You laugh. “I guess. I’m dressed now.”

Lando groans when he uncovers his eyes and spots the pair of shorts still on the bed. He puts one hand over Oscar’s eyes, one back over his own, and says, “Shorts. Now.”

You grumble something about taking them off later anyways, which has Lando melting into a puddle over the thought. He hears you shuffling around, and then you grab both of his wrists and tug them away from his and Oscar’s faces. You’re fully dressed this time, and you collapse backwards onto the bed.

“Will you guys stay till I fall asleep?” you ask, softly.

Both of them nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. You curl up in the middle, each of them on either side. Oscar lays a tentative hand on your shoulder, while Lando brushes hair from your face. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, melting into the bed.

When you do, Lando nods silently towards the door. Oscar nods in agreement, and they both slip out of the bedroom. Lando looks back to check on you as he shuts the door. You look peaceful, finally.

Oscar heads for the kitchen, and Lando follows. He reaches into the fridge and comes back with two cans of sparkling water, which Lando accepts eagerly. He’d been unaware of just how thirsty he was until that moment. He drinks half the can in one go and then looks at Oscar expectantly.

“I don’t know,” Oscar prefaces. “I’m not sure about anything. But. She couldn’t stop staring at you up on the stage, and she told me about ten times how pretty you were. And then she said it about me, too. To my face. And like, right after that she threw up, but.”

“But,” Lando repeats. “You saw something. Different than her just being a drunk mess.”

“It felt different,” Oscar says, softly. “Just. I can’t explain it.”

Lando nods. He presses his lips into a thin line. Oscar follows suit, rubbing his hand against the smooth surface of the countertop.

“What do we do?” Lando asks quietly. He feels wildly out of his depth here. “I mean. D’you think she has feelings for…”

Me? You? Lando’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be either. Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. In an ideal world, he knows what he’d like to happen here, but that’s a pipe dream. Unrealistic.

“She’s really vulnerable,” he says, before Oscar can even answer. “And like. That would really make a good roommate situation weird, right?”

Oscar laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. So. We just let it go.”

Oscar nods. There’s something in the look on his face that makes Lando think maybe there’s more to this. That they shouldn’t brush it off so easily. But it’s late, and he’s exhausted, and this topic feels so, so difficult to broach right now. So he claps Oscar on the shoulder with an open palm, and then disappears into his bedroom.

Lando’s avoidance of the subject doesn’t last long, because the next morning, before you wake up, Oscar corners him in the kitchen.

“We need to talk,” Oscar says, which is never a good sentence to hear at any hour, let alone before the sun has even risen.

Realistically, he should’ve known this was coming, because Oscar never willingly wakes up this early on a weekend. It’s still dark outside. Lando can barely make out Oscar’s facial expressions in the dim light. He flicks a light switch and watches the other man wince.

“Rude,” Oscar grumbles.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for starting off my morning with that sentence,” Lando defends. When Oscar frowns, he softens. “What’s up?”

As if he hadn’t expected to actually get to this point, Oscar shrinks in on himself. Lando leans against the counter and tilts his head. Oscar’s younger, but he’s usually the more mature one. It’s odd to see him so lost for what to say.

“Last night,” Oscar starts, chewing on his lip when he pauses. “She- I- I can’t stop thinking about…”

Lando’s gut wobbles. “About her. You like her. And you think she feels the same.”

There’s this weird jealousy in his chest. He’s jealous of both of you, he realizes, and he grips the counter behind him with his hand. He wants to be the one you like, and he wants to be the one Oscar’s into, too. He’s known it for a while, really, but this is the first time he’s had to confront it head on. And it’s - it’s a problem, probably. His best friends and his roommates. He can’t have both. Can’t have it all.

Oscar frowns and shakes his head. “No. Well. Yeah, but- it’s more than that. It’s.”

Lando tamps down the ache in his chest, plasters on a smile. “Oscar. It’s okay.”

“No,” Oscar says, dragging out the sound. “You don’t- you don’t get it.”

“You guys would make a cute couple,” Lando says quietly. “Like. Really, Osc, you’d be good together-“

“I don’t just want her,” Oscar interrupts, and Lando's heart skips a beat. “I don’t- fuck, it sounds crazy, but. I woke up that morning, after we picked her up, and you were both on the couch with me, and I just thought, yeah, this is how I want to wake up every day. And if that’s crazy then- forget I said anything, but-“

Lando clears his throat. “It’s not crazy.”

Oscar freezes, one hand halfway through his hair. “It’s not?”

Lando shakes his head and bites his lip. “No. I think I’ve been feeling the same. Just… I felt crazy, you know?”

Oscar nods. Lando can’t stop staring at him, at the red flush on his cheeks, the wide eyes. He reaches his foot out and nudges it against Oscar’s shin.

“I meant what I said last night, about her being vulnerable,” he says, and Oscar sighs heavily. “She needs friends right now. And she doesn’t need friends who are caught up in figuring out their feelings for each other and maybe her, too.”

Oscar huffs. “So we just…”

“Wait and see?” Lando asks sheepishly. “Feels shitty, I know, but our first priority is making sure she’s okay.”

Oscar nods. Lando nods back. And that’s that, for a while. And maybe for a while, it’s enough to know that Oscar feels it, too. To know he’s not alone.

…..

You know Lando well enough to know he’s not one to admit when he’s sick. You’d think he’d be the exact opposite, but he tends to try and tough it out until the very last minute. He hides it well, except when it comes to you and Oscar.

He’s getting ready for a DJ set nearly a month after the one where you’d gotten far too drunk. There’s loud music playing through the apartment as he eats dinner, dancing along to the beat. You sit on the kitchen counter in your usual spot, and Oscar stands next to you. You’re both watching Lando bounce around the room. He’s trying to convince you he’s fine without actually saying it. It’s not working.

He leaves the room for a moment, looking for his phone. Oscar looks up at you.

“He’s sick, isn’t he?” He asks.

You nod and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “Definitely.”

But Lando says nothing about not feeling well, so you do your hair and makeup and get into an Uber with him and Oscar to head for a club. You and Oscar exchange a glance when Lando presses his forehead to the window of the car. He’s mumbling along to the song that’s playing over the speakers. There’s sweat on his temple. You’re starting to worry.

He tumbles out of the car and into the club with you and Oscar in tow. Once the bright lights and loud music hit him, he perks up a bit. If you know him, you know it won’t last. He’s going to wear himself out during his set and then fall apart right after. He sends the two of you to the bar, tells you to put it on his tab. Oscar loops his hand in your arm to keep you close- you’re not complaining. Without saying anything to each other, you each order plain Cokes. Lando won’t question if there’s alcohol in it. You order him his go to drink- a gin & tonic, but ask the bartender to go light on the gin. You hand it off to him before he heads up for his set, and when he hesitates to kiss your cheek like he normally would, you eye him carefully.

“I’m fine,” he says, which tells you more than anything that he’s definitely not fine.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. You press the back of your hand to Lando’s forehead and sigh. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. He’s burning up.

“It’s a short set,” he says, slurred but loud enough to be heard over the thud of the bass. “I’ll be fine.”

You watch as he walks away. Oscar takes your arm in his hand again, pulls you away to a nearby booth. Normally, you love watching Lando’s sets, love listening to the music he’s chosen, and watching his face light up at the crowd’s reaction. But now, as he takes his place, you just feel worried. You can tell Oscar’s worried too, just from the way he drums his fingers against the table in an unsteady pattern. Normally the two of you would find yourselves out on the dance floor, especially when Lando plays the songs he knows you both love, but you can’t find it in you tonight.

When he stumbles off stage from his set, he’s grinning ear to ear, but his eyes are half closed and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin that you know isn’t from the dj-ing. You and Oscar stand to meet him, and you brush damp curls from his forehead to check his temperature again. He feels even worse. Oscar winces as Lando sways in front of the two of you.

“Let's get you home,” you suggest, and he just nods.

When you get back to the apartment, you deposit Lando on the couch. Oscar stays with him, pulling a blanket over Lando and propping him up with pillows. You head for the bathroom first and open the medicine cabinet.

“Lan, what’s wrong?” You call out.

You hear his disoriented grumbling. Oscar translates. “He says he’s fine.”

You lean out into the living room and fix Lando with a glare. “Shut up. You need medicine. What’s wrong?”

He sighs and sinks into the couch. “Sore throat. Headache. Little bit of a cough.”

You nod and return to the surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet. You grab the cold medicine that describes his symptoms the best and head back to the living room. Lando has the blanket wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, and he has his head resting on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s running his hand up and down Lando’s upper arm, a look of concern on his face.

You hand Oscar the medicine. “Here. Give him a dose, will you? I’m gonna heat up some soup or something.”

“M’not a baby,” Lando mutters.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Oscar teases gently.

Though the medicine cabinet was well stocked, the kitchen is less so. None of you like grocery shopping. You manage to find a can of chicken soup in the back of a cupboard, and it’s not expired, so you heat it up quickly. You return to the living room with the soup and a large glass of water.

Lando is fully tucked into Oscar’s side now, draped messily across the other boy. You sigh at the sight, at the way Oscar runs his hand through Lando’s hair, at the content little smile on Lando’s lips. Even when he’s sick, this is enough to bring him comfort. You wonder, then, if you could be enough, too. The memories pass through your brain- the way they’ve both taken care of you after your break up. Now it’s your chance to return the favor.

You sit down on the couch on Lando’s other side. Oscar takes the bowl of soup from you carefully, and then you hold the glass of water up to Lando’s lips. He sips carefully, then pulls away with a soft sigh. His cheeks are rosy red, and he shivers. You and Oscar both wince in sympathy.

“You should’ve told us,” Oscar says, quietly. “Should’ve canceled the set.”

Lando shrugs and elbows him lightly. “Got through it, didn’t I? Can’t go around canceling sets if I’m gonna make it big, can I?”

You roll your eyes and nudge the Brit slightly. “Your health is more important than you making it big,” you chide.

He turns to look at you, gaze hazy but still amused. “Mm. You won’t be saying that when I’ve got enough money to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.”

“Is that your plan?” Oscar asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

Lando closes his eyes and nods. “You two can be my sugar babies,” he asserts. “Never work another day in your life.”

“Okay, Norris,” you say, biting back a laugh. “Eat your soup.”

He does as he’s told, melting back into the couch as he holds the bowl and spoon in shaky hands. Oscar keeps his hands on the bowl, too, just to be safe. To show your support, you lean against Lando’s shoulder to help prop him up. As much as you hate to see him not feeling well, you think that maybe you could get used to this.

You tuck him into his bed later that night. Oscar’s next to you, having carried him into the bedroom from the living room. Lando was pretty much dead weight, high on cold medicine and his fever and so, so out of it. You pull the covers up to his chin and smooth sweaty hair from his forehead. You cringe at the clammy feeling, and Oscar laughs.

Lando blinks up at both of you with heavy eyes. “Meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?” You ask.

He lets his eyelids fall closed. “Gonna take care of you two. The same way you take care of me. I think abou’ it all the time.”

He yawns, turns his head, and falls asleep nearly immediately after that, lips barely parted, chest rising and falling smoothly. You feel frozen for a moment. He looks so peaceful. He wants to take care of you. Your heart is pounding.

Oscar wraps his hand around your elbow and squeezes softly. “He’ll be okay.”

He thinks you’re worried. You don’t know how to tell him that Lando being sick isn’t the problem. The what’s got you all mixed up inside is the way Lando says it so easily. Never work another day in your life. I think about it all the time.

You swallow and back away from the bed, because you have the strongest urge to crawl right in next to him and drag Oscar right with you, until you’re all curled up in a pile together. You can’t do that. Oscar leads you out to the living room. You think he knows something’s up, because he doesn’t let go of you the whole time, but he doesn’t say anything either. You need to shake this feeling. You can’t think about them like this. It won’t end well.

“I’ll make us some popcorn, yeah?” Oscar suggests. “We can watch Bake Off.”

You nod as you make your way over to the couch. You try to tell yourself you should keep your distance, should sit far away from him. But when he sits down and pulls you into his chest, you can’t help but sigh happily.

“When we inevitably catch whatever he has,” you say, “we’re gonna need more chicken noodle soup.”

…..

Oscar comes home from work one day a few weeks later, and finds the two of you in the living room- a pretty normal occurrence lately. You’re laid out on the couch, your ankles in Lando’s lap. You smile up at him happily, and he laughs. He’s glad to see you, honestly, both of you. He’s had a rough day. This is exactly what he needed to come home to.

“Comfy?” He asks.

You nod eagerly. “We saved some pizza for you. It’s in the kitchen.”

He snorts. “Gee. Thanks. Couldn’t wait till I got home?”

You pout up at him. “I was hungry.”

Lando nods in agreement. “She was being whiny, Osc, had to feed her.”

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, leaning over to ruffle your hair. You press into the touch, like a cat. “And then I’ll have dinner.”

“Ooh, take a shower beer,” you suggest.

Lando laughs. “I was gonna say the exact same thing.”

Without even thinking, Oscar leans over the couch and kisses both of your foreheads. “Geniuses, the both of you.”

Neither you or Lando seem to question it, or the blush on his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try to explain.

By the time he finishes showering, and finishes his shower beer, a bit of the stress has melted away. He sighs heavily when he steps out, towel dries his hair, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He eats a slice of pizza, cold, in the kitchen.

When he makes it back to the living room, you’re curled up in Lando’s arms, halfway in his lap. He grumbles, not even realizing he’s making the noise until you look up at him. You throw one arm out wide, beckoning him close. Lando looks up with a happy, soft smile and pats the open space on his chest. And really, Oscar’s had a shit day, and the spot between Lando’s jaw and chest looks quite cozy, and if he’s being invited, then-

He collapses into the two of you, slips his arm around you and presses the side of his face to Lando’s chest. Oscar takes a deep breath, smells Lando’s cologne and your perfume, the intoxicating mix of both of you, and closes his eyes. He feels someone’s finger drag down the slope of his nose, and another hand brushes his hair from his forehead.

“Bad day?” You ask.

He’s exhausted, and everything is a bit hazy feeling. Syrupy and slow. He could fall asleep like this, probably. You sound a million miles away, and also like you’re tucked away in his chest, like he’d like for you to always be. Close and protected.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really bad day.”

A thumb brushes over his cheek. There’s a hand in his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He lets out a fluttering sigh.

“Poor baby,” you say. He thinks the hand on his face is yours, the hand in his hair, Lando’s. “We just gotta wait for Lan to make it big, yeah? ‘nd then me and you can be his sugar babies, let him pay for everything. Just like he promised.”

Oscar laughs and rubs his cheek against Lando’s chest in some sort of nod. He can feel Lando laughing, too, high pitched and breathless. His hand squeezes at your hip, where it landed when he sat down.

“I’d take such good care of the two of you,” Lando says, quietly.

Oscar knows how much truth the words hold, and suddenly his stomach aches with want. Because Lando already takes care of both of you and him any way he can, and Oscar does it for you and Lando, too, and they both wish they could do it even more so. Could kiss away your tears, could hold your hand when you cross the street. He wants it. So does Lando.

“You already do,” you say, even quieter.

Oscar feels Lando’s breath hitch in his chest. He opens one eye and finds your eyes closed, your hand pressed to his cheek. Lando’s hand, banded around Oscar’s back, squeezes softly. Oscar holds his breath.

You shrug, like you know they’re watching without even opening your eyes.

“You both do,” you add. “Picked me up when I called, checked on me ever since…” you sigh and bury your face deeper into Lando’s chest. Oscar reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand tentatively. “Couldn’t ask for more.”

Even on the worst of days, Oscar thinks that maybe you’re right. He couldn’t ask for more. He’s got everything right here.

…..

A few nights later, Lando wakes up to the creak of the door, and his eyes fly open. He turns to look and finds you standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Love?” Lando asks, quietly. It’s the dead of night. “You alright?”

You shrug and sigh. “Can we cuddle?”

He blinks and nods, wonder fleetingly if he should go and get Oscar, because this feels unfair, but- then you step backwards, walking away. You must want to go to your bed, must feel more comfortable there. Lando slips out of his bed, takes his phone with him, and follows after you. His confusion grows when you don’t stop at the door to your bedroom. You walk right past and head for Oscar’s room. You open the door, and Lando looks past you to the warm glow of the lamp Oscar always forgets to turn off, to his sleeping form.

“You’re easier to wake up,” you say, softly.

Lando blinks wildly as you trudge your way over to the bed. “Love?”

“Want cuddles,” you state as you climb into the bed next to Oscar, who’s snoring softly. “From both of you. Come on.”

And, well. You should probably all talk about this, really. But you’re already tucking yourself under the blankets, and Oscar looks cute, and Lando’s so, so tired, and he wants cuddles, too, so. He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. You grin and roll towards Oscar, who finally shifts awake at the motion.

“Hi?” He says, confused, sleep coating his voice.

You don’t bother to explain, just slip an arm around him and curl close. Lando sits down on the edge of the bed and makes eye contact with Oscar, who seems frozen between confusion and happiness.

“She wanted cuddles,” Lando explains. “From both of us. I’m easier to wake up, apparently.”

Oscar shrugs and nods. He rolls towards you and throws his arm over your middle. His fingers motion towards Lando, who breathes a sigh of relief. Sure, they’ve talked, but there was always a chance Oscar changed his mind, or that this would be weird. But, if he’s offering…

Lando crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh when he lays down next to you, and he can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. He slips his arm around you, his skin brushing against Oscar’s, too. Oscar presses a kiss to your forehead. Lando bites back a flare of jealousy, and he’s not even sure which one of you he’s jealous of. Then Oscar brushes his fingertips against his bicep, a soft, gentle touch that reminds him he’s part of this, too. Lando kisses the back of your neck and closes his eyes, already sleepy again.

…..

When Oscar wakes up the next morning, you and Lando are still in his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief at that, having been worried one of you would wake up and panic and leave. He watches the two of you for a few moments before he lets his eyes slip closed again. The weight of your head on his chest is comforting, and the soft rise and fall of Lando’s ribs under his hand is even more so. It’s rare that he’s awake before either of you unless he has to be up early.

He opens one eye again, just to look, just to take it in. Lando’s head is pressed against your shoulder, the top of his forehead and his mass of curly hair just visible to Oscar. He could get used to this. He’d like to wake up like this all the time, the three of you all wrapped up together. And maybe that’s wishful thinking, but for at least one morning, he gets to have it.

If he wasn’t so worried he’d wake you up and spoil the moment, he’d trace the lines of your face with his fingertips and draw patterns on your shoulders. He’d do it to Lando, too- shove his tank top up until he could touch the bare skin of his ribs, run his fingers over the bumps. But he wants this to last as long as possible, so he just lays there and stares.

Eventually, you start to stir, and with you, so does Lando. It’s strange, the way it makes Oscar’s heart clench in his chest. He wants so badly for both of you to just stay right here, with him. If he could hold you both in his arms like this forever he would.

When you open your eyes, you smile softly at him. Lando shifts behind you and opens one eye, and the same soft smile slips across his lips. You press yourself farther into Oscar, and reach a hand behind you to pull Lando close.

“My boys,” you say, quietly. “My favorite boys.”

And. That’s when it hits Oscar, like a punch to the chest. There’s something in the way you say it, something about the look on your face. He just knows. He knows because he sees it in himself, in Lando. He doesn’t need to talk about it right this second, doesn’t need to ask. He just knows you feel it too. So he leans up and over, hears the way Lando’s holding his breath. He moves his hand and presses his lips to your cheek, to your warm, soft skin. Then he does the same to Lando. You smile even wider. Lando, not one to be left out, does the same to you, then Oscar, leaving his skin burning. You follow suit, and your lips are warm against Oscar’s jaw. He thinks maybe he’s in heaven.

The three of you fall back asleep in a tighter pile, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. There’ll be time to talk later. For now, it’s enough to just know.

…..

A month later, you’re in the front of the crowd at Lando’s DJ set, watching with wide, bright eyes. He has three buttons undone, the work of you and Oscar during the car ride over to the club. He’s grinning down at you as someone hands him a shot, and then he tosses it back with a grimace. You wonder if he sees the stars in your eyes as you look up at him.

Oscar’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He has a drink in his other hand- your drink, taken from your own grip when you started moving your hands to the music. His nose is pressed behind your ear, and when he speaks, his breath tickles against your skin and makes you shiver.

“Y’know, he said he’d take care of us,” Oscar says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but just barely. “But all I can think of right now are all the ways I wanna take care of him.”

You laugh, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s the unbuttoned shirt,” you tell him, gesturing at your other boyfriend. “S’like kryptonite.”

Never mind the fact that the shirt’s only unbuttoned because of the two of you. Oscar laughs and squeezes his arm around your middle. Lando tilts his head at the two of you, like he knows exactly what you’re up to.

“Yeah,” Oscar agrees. “But that’s less buttons for us to deal with later.”

You nod in agreement. “Good point.”

When Lando’s shirt is laying on the floor later, next to Oscar’s shirt and your dress, and you’re all slumped together on the bed in a pile, you remember what Oscar said earlier and laugh. Neither of them bother to ask what you’re laughing about. They just kiss your cheeks and join in with laughter of their own.

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1 (if your blog is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!)

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lev1hei1chou · 1 month

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Caught

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 551 Synopsis: Gojo lies about his location Masterlist

The latest mission had been really intense, adrenaline-fueled, and downright exhausting. But for you, the thought of finally getting home to your little family kept you going. With a quick check-in, you called Satoru, hoping to hear the comforting sound of your husband's voice and perhaps a few adorable ramblings from your little child.

"Hey, babe, how's it going?" you greeted Gojo over the phone, hoping to hear the familiar warmth in his voice.

"Hey there baby, everything's good here. Just putting C/N to bed," Gojo replied casually.

Relief washed over you. "Oh, that's great! I miss you guys so much. I can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, we miss you too," Gojo said, his voice slightly distracted.

You frowned. "Are you sure everything's okay? You sound a bit off."

"No, love, everything's fine. We're just here, at home, all rolled up and cozy in bed," Gojo reassured, his tone a tad too chipper.

"Well alright then! I'll see you guys soon. Love you."

Something didn't add up. You glanced at the map on your phone, which showed Gojo's location tagged in a cafeteria nearby. Suspicion crept in, and you decided to investigate.

As you entered the cafeteria, you spotted Gojo sitting at a table, chatting away with someone you couldn't see from your position, far from the cozy confines of home as he claimed. Confused, you dialed Gojo's number again.

"Hey, Satoru, where are you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"At home, of course," he replied without missing a beat.

You narrowed your eyes, your gaze fixed on Gojo. "Really? Because it looks like you're in a cafeteria."

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. "Uh what are you talking about? Must be a glitch in the GPS or something. Definitely home, just enjoying some quality time with our little one."

You sighed, not buying Gojo's flimsy excuse for a second. Determined to catch him red-handed, you made your way quietly behind him. As you stood behind your husband, your child caught sight of you and froze, their eyes widening in panic.

Gojo continued chatting, unaware of your presence behind him. "You know, your mom can be so strict sometimes. Always making sure everything's in order, no room for fun."

You couldn't help but roll their eyes at Gojo's comment. But before you could confront him, your child subtly signaled towards your direction, prompting your husband to turn around.

The moment Gojo laid eyes on you, his expression morphed from nonchalant to downright mushy. "Well, look who's here! Isn't it my favorite person in the world?"

"Gojo Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to feign seriousness, but couldn't fight the urge to smile at his sudden change in demeanor.

Gojo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, you caught me. We may have wanted a little break from bedtime duty."

"And you thought hanging out in a cafeteria was the best way to do that?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, since you're here, why don't you join us? We were just about to grab some snacks."

You couldn't help but laugh at Gojo's antics. "Fine, but only because I missed you guys too much."

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

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I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion x f!reader #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x f! reader #astarion ancunin

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furifurii · 8 months

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since you, the reader has school going for you, you rarely play honkai star rail.

the characters would always wonder where you went, or what you were doing outside of their world. they can still hear your voice, but very, very faintly. they would sometimes hear a name they would not recognize and idk, maybe just go:

"who the hell is diluc and why is he so hot??"

they would also listen in to your conversations whenever they would hear your voice. even if it's you talking to yourself about history, or you talking to your friends about things unrelated to their world. they wouldn't really mind. maybe just a little bit.

but when you go back to the game, the characters would be overjoyed and would try to make you stay there longer.

even going as far as to secretly double the stellar jades you would receive during quests or missions. and missing the excitement of pulling for new characters, you would gladly warp for the new characters on limited banners.

they would ask silver wolf to hack into the system to boost your chances of getting a character or the light cone you were pulling for. they would push each other aside just so they can appear on your screen for you to gush over how you got another copy of a character or celebrating when you got all of the eidolons of one character that you really liked.

just seeing you being happy just makes them want to spoil you even more, just so you will stay playing with them, forever.

but when you suddenly stopped playing the game while they were trying their hardest to give you what you wanted, you realised, oh, there's school tomorrow. so you decided to turn off the game for the time being and go to sleep.

but they couldn't let you go just like that! that would be ridiculous.

for a few days just before you played the game again, the cast begged for anyone who could take them to your world. just sitting idly on your device's screen and listen to your voice wasn't cutting it anymore.

they want to see— they needed to see you, to actually have an actual conversation with you and not just talk to you through this game's script. it wasn't enough for them to be living behind the screen for you to just watch, they wanted to show you that they are actual tangible beings that call you their "creator" .

the main character had begged herta to do something about this, and she complied without any argument, to their confusion. usually she would be saying stuff like how she would just 'give up in the middle of it' ,, but she.. didn't? nonetheless, they were grateful to have herta agree with creating a portal to your world.

as soon as the characters caught wind of this, they were ecstatic. they had left their duties just to hop on the astral express and to herta's space station, to finally see you, to meet you.

in herta's office, it was packed with all the playable characters, waiting. some patiently waiting, some, not so much.

to see opposing groups of people being in the same room and not being at each other's throats were such a random thing to see, but they didn't care about that, no no, they only cared about you.

you, their "creator".. how could they miss this opportunity to be meeting their own creator, the one who gave them life, something to live for.

as herta was finishing up some parts of the portal, you were sound asleep in your bed, snoring away in your weird sleeping position.

well, until you felt your blanket started to move with sudden gusts of wind. you heard a really loud thump, it didn't come from any rooms of your house, it didn't sound muffled when it happened. so it's,, in your room. but oh, would you look at that, your room is so dark you couldn't locate your phone which was usually near you to use it as a flashlight.

but what's that? you heard a voice , a very, very familiar voice.

———

yeah naur... i can't do this,, this sounds terrible i'm so sorry you had to read this sobsosb i am so soso sorryr

#honkai star rail #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #honkai star rail x you #help how do i tag this??#first post omgggg :wacky face emoji:#i wrote this when i was literally going cross-eyed trying to stay up #stan the jacket in the corner of my room as my motivation to stay up <33

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bowlofsoob · 8 months

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SOOBIN AS YOUR MUTUAL THAT YOU HATE IRL — part one

part two

soobin x gender neutral reader

you and “steve” have been mutuals on twitter for almost a year as you both run bebe rexha fan accounts. he uses a fake name and you guys get along well, you talk to him more than your irl friends atp. on the other hand you and soobin don’t get along irl after constantly competing for the number one spot on the academic leaderboard. since then he always gives you a rbf and says he finds you too obnoxious. but that all changes when you finally decide to meet your favorite oomf in person.

notes; this could be an entire smau lowk but i’m lazy so take the part one and part two xx

later that week

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐་༘

Your stomach was swarming with nerves as you made your way inside the cafe, the scent of freshly made coffee and sweaty college students surrounding you as you slid into line. Admittedly, you never thought you’d get the chance to meet Steve, or whatever his actual name was, he was just your cute internet friend and nothing would ever happen. That was, until today.

It was a bit embarrassing that you stared at the selfie he’d sent for longer than you should’ve. It was difficult to comprehend the boy you’d been talking to for so long was hiding such a pretty figure.

You eye the display of cakes and decide to pick one up for the both of you as Steve had already promised to get you guys coffee. You felt bad going empty handed after finally meeting him.

You reach down to grab onto the last chocolate slice and your hands meet another. Usually, you’d let it slide and choose something else even though you touched it first. But, when you looked to your left and locked eyes with your self-proclaimed enemy, Choi Soobin, those thoughts washed away. You were going to fight for that slice of mediocre cake.

“Not you again,” Soobin sighed, tugging the slice towards him, “Don’t be obnoxious.”

“Says you,” you scoff, tightly grabbing onto the plate, “Why are you always so rude towards me?”

“Ask yourself the same thing,” Soobin replies, his large hands tugging the cake closer towards him, “Choose something else.”

“You choose something else, I got to it first!”

“Ok and?” Soobin questions, like the little shit he is.

“Fine, just take it,” you sigh, not wanting to make Steve wait. But as you let go of the cake and step back you notice Soobin’s outfit. He was adorned in clothes that oddly resembled the photo Steve had sent you.

“You made me lose my appetite,” Soobin mutters, dropping the cake and shuffling past you. You shake off the familiarity and make your way towards the back. Most men wore the same clothes, it was nothing.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You eye the walls of the cafe until you come across the tiled design. You start scouring the seats for someone that resembled Steve but the only person in your vicinity was Soobin.

You inch your way closer towards him with morbid curiosity, hoping that your suspicions would be proved wrong. But as you got closer the drinks on the table and location of your rival were too similar to the photo Steve had sent you.

Unfortunately, Soobin locked eyes with you.

“What do you want? Are you here to apologize?” he questions, playing with the straw of his drink as he barely give you a glance.

“Steve?” you tentatively ask, your voice hoarse from the nerves. This couldn’t be happening.

Soobin pauses.

“What?” he slowly asks, turning to look at you, “What did you call me?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “Are you pagebebe?”

“What…,” he starts, catching on, “You’re bebeyn4lyfe?”

Your username sounds foreign on his tongue but it was him. Soobin was your steve. Your beloved Steve was the same guy you’ve been on bad terms with all year. Just your luck.

Before Soobin could comprehend anything or you could answer, you decide to do the most mature thing anyone would do in that situation.

You run.

And he doesn’t follow.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#txt smau #txt x reader #soobin x gender neutral reader #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin x yn #soobin x male reader #soobin x y/n #soobin smau #soobin texts #txt x gender neutral reader #txt x gn reader

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tainted-liquor · 6 months

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✮ 4th Baby Mama‧₊˚ ⋅ 「15.10.23」 ft. Earth42 Miles G. Morales

ingredients; Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles!

Listen, ik you said make it just one, but a part 2 is going to be made lol

It was a warm day out in Brooklyn, New York. The air gently caressed and kissed your skin, leaving your blue plaid skirt flowing as you trekked through the messy streets of Brooklyn. You paid no attention to the gunshots, explosions, or any of the...cherry-wine tinted 'spills' coming from a random trash bag in the alley. You mumbled along to the music you had blasting through your blue metallic beats, putting a slight pep in your step as Summer Walker spoke to your soul.

"I wanna start wit' yo mama, she shoulda whooped yo ass..." you grunted, giggling to yourself before swinging open the massive oak doors to Brooklyn Visions Academy. You felt rather giddy about the day ahead, knowing that you would be getting robotic babies as part of your home economics class. The problem was that you didn't know who you would be partnered with. It was all shits and giggles, and you were pretty sure the task would be as easy as ever. No matter who you were partnered with! Right?

No.

You made your way to the locker, checking your lashes and light makeup in the small mirror you had placed in the top right corner before placing all your unnecessary materials inside the navy blue metal. You did a quick fluff of your slick low bun and threw on your clear-framed glasses. You opened up your spearmint mentos gum, popping two small pieces in your mouth before closing your locker and proceeding through the bustling halls to find your friends. You lowered your headphones down to your neck, pausing the music and locating your girls all crowded together in what sounded like frantic whispers and sharp giggles. Catching up to the rest of the group, you merged into their tight circle to see what was going on as they all looked down at each other's phones.

"Yooo, what's happening? What y'all lookin' at?" You inquired whilst pulling out your phone and opening your school email. You turned your head to face your friend, Tierra, watching as the cyber-blue hue illuminated her facial features as she stared down at her screen with a hand over her mouth. Layla spoke up, nudging you gently so you could see what she was talking about, "They picked the partners for the...the fuckin' baby project at random!" She giggled, tears pricking her waterline as she flipped her screen to show you what was on her phone. You scanned through the list, eyes widening when you came across your name right next to Miles'.

"WHAT!" You shouted, breaking out into laughter with the rest of the group. "They paired me with my fuckin' ex, at least you got that quiet kid!" Tierra grunted, whacking you on the shoulder with a rolled-up homework assignment. You nearly fell on the floor, gripping Katie's shoulder while she held up upright. The idea of raising a baby, real or not, with a stranger sounded hilarious. You weren't mad, but he wasn't exactly the partner you wanted. You originally hoped for one of your girlfriends, or maybe even a cute guy from the basketball team that you could yap about later. But alas, the forms were out and the choices were final, so there was nothing more that you could do.

You were familiar with Miles; saying hi to him now and again in the hallways and always getting the same upward nod in the process. He was known to be an adept artist who wasn't big on having a large circle of friends, but that didn't mean he was weird. You held your stomach as you wiped your tears, easing into the steady flow of conversation your friends began to hold before it was time for you to head to your advisory. You waved bye to your friends before heading to Mrs. Thomas’ classroom for said advisory, where she covered the school's upcoming events and big tests we needed to be ready for. You fiddled and played with a loose curl in your bun, pulling it down and watching as it sprang back up at an instantaneous rate.

The room was dull and filled with nothing but sleep until the bell rang, signaling for everyone to file out to their next class. You hastily grabbed your things, panicking slightly at the fact that in the next 30 minutes, you would be classified as a ‘mother’. The classroom was warm and comfortable, allowing your nerves to relax slightly as you sat in your usual seat. It didn’t take long for more voices to pour in, loud gossip and strained laughter filling the room as everyone took their respective seats. ”Girl this class finna be the death of me…how we havin’ kids at 8:35 in the morning!” Your friend Jayda mumbled, finally sitting down next to you as your teacher prepared to start today’s lesson.

“Nah that’s what I’m saying…Like, tell me how I got-” you began, cutting yourself off as soon as Ms. Kaylee cleared her throat and stood up from her desk with a warm smile. She spoke, her voice cutting clearly through the silence that hung over the room like a mistletoe over a pair with chemistry as thick as butter, “Alright, everyone! I’m sure you saw the email about your partners for your week-long project, but in case you didn’t have time or missed a couple of lessons I’ll go over everything for a couple minutes before we get started with our gender reveal!” You tensed in your seat, looking over at Jayda with wide eyes and an upside-down smile. The classroom door came swinging open, revealing a Miles who had a tiny matte-black bandage right next to his lip. His uniform jacket was missing, his tie askew, and his sleeves were rolled up to his upper bicep, displaying a ton of tiny scratches and a small bruise above the curve of his elbow.

The teacher glared at him for what felt like a minute, calmly pulling him to the side to discuss his entrance while you glared at him, too. But you weren’t staring because he was a disruption to the classroom. He looked delicious like this…when he was finally out of his usual blue school hoodie and grey slacks. You watched as he nodded at the teacher, towering over her 5’4 stature before you felt a light tap on your arm.

“Ayo, stop drooling girl we see you” Jayda laughed, giving her a firm eye-roll as you watched Miles stroll back to his desk and sit down. Ms. Kaylee let go of a deep sigh, shaking her head before continuing with her speech. She gave a brief explanation of what it was that we’d be doing, what the final goal was, and how we would be graded on our project. She clapped her hands together, setting out a bunch of baby holders and car seats before rolling out a massive case labeled ‘RealCare’. “Alright! When I call you and your partner's name, please come up and grab one bath bomb and a pail of water”

The people around you made quick work of finding their partners and grabbing the necessary supplies between chortles and hushed conversation. Your chest felt heavy as you talked Jayda’s ear off, nearing the order of people that you last saw on the Google form she had emailed you earlier. You perked up as soon as you heard your name, turning around to see Ms. Kaylee check off two spaces on her clipboard before beckoning the both of you to come up and grab your things. You sighed, getting up from your desk and grabbing a plain white bath bomb and a small beach pale filled with lukewarm water while Miles grunted and grabbed a car seat, muscles tensing and flexing under the weight of the surprisingly heavy chunk of plastic. He turned over to look at you, nodding his head back to his desk as a signal for you to follow him while you waited for the teacher to finish reading out the pairs.

“Wassup, Miles” you beamed, pulling up a chair in front of his desk so you could sit face-to-face with him while you placed the sunny yellow pale on the desk, holding the bath bomb as delicately as possible in your cupped hands. He nodded upward, setting the car seat on the floor next to him and cracking his knuckles. His skin was perfectly smooth, his braids laid neatly at the tip of his collarbones and he had a skinny but lean build on him. It wasn’t long after you took note of him avoiding your gaze that the teacher spoke up, instructing you to all drop your bath bombs in the pail of water and then rinse your hands at the sink. You squealed in anticipation, making sure that Miles was watching as you dropped the chalky white bath bomb into the sparkling clear water.

The bucket exploded with color, white foam suddenly turning into shades of bright pink and pastel fuchsia. You beamed from ear to ear, pure joy and excitement illuminating your face as you joined the rest of the class in their shouts of joy, exclaiming their ‘babies’ gender at the top of their lungs. Miles smiled slightly, nodding with a content expression before he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Shortly after everyone's joyful exclamation, the teacher wasted no time in collecting everyone's attention and going over the plan for the next week. “You will need to devise a custody plan with your partner, so this means exchange numbers or whatever you need to do now. You may now all come up and select your baby” Ms. Kaylee explained and gestured to the now-open box.

You went up with Miles, quickly scooping up a pretty baby doll with deep brown skin and curly brown hair. You analyzed her little face, taking in her deep black eyes and light pink headband that came with her matching pink onesie while Miles got your baby bag full of supplies and wristbands. Miles cleared his throat, holding up his phone before mumbling “Just send me what days you want me to get her and I’ll make it work.”

You nodded, putting your number in his contacts and vice versa. “Actually,” he stated, gently taking the baby from your arms and hoisting up the bright pink baby bag. “I got her until lunch today. I’ll come find you and we’ll work sum’ out,” he shrugged as you handed him back his phone.

“Oh aight, bet. What we naming her?” You asked, attempting to reach for the car seat, but being instantly denied by Miles. “Uhh…” he mumbled, visibly blanking at the idea of having to name his baby. “Uhh…Anylah?” He smirked, attempting to cover up the fact he just thought of a name on the spot. You looked him up and down, playing over how the name sounded in your mind before nodding slowly. Miles let go of a deep breath, posture relaxing only a fraction before he reached into the bag to put on both of your orange wristbands.

“Aight, I’ll catch you at lunch,” Miles stated, making his way out of the classroom with a heavy load of baby items and a fake baby. You made your way to your remaining 4 classes, internally groaning at how fast the time was passing by.

“She ain’t even tell us these fuckin babies cry…I didn’t know that shit made noise! It started going off in the library!” Your friend Jayda moaned, attempting to shush her fussy baby she named Mariah. “The fuck you mean you didn’t know they cried…it was literally in the paper she gave us about the babies?” You asked, looking at her like she had a second head. She shrugged, eyeing you with slightly widened eyes and a smirk to silently convey that she didn’t read the forms. “JAYDA!” You giggled, half-shoving her as you opened up the doors to the cafeteria. The line was nothing short of demonic, so you decided to hop a couple of places forward with your friends who had already made it to the cafeteria.

The food was mediocre, but at least it was edible. You sat with your girls for a good 5 minutes, enjoying your food and conversing with each other before you spotted Miles making his way over. He held the baby like a football, making space for himself at your table with a low “excuse me” in between you and Tierra. “Aight so my schedule is weird cuz I have work some days, but I’ll make it work what days should I get this thing?” He asked, his voice low and stoic as he began typing away in the notes app on his phone. You gave him a playful glare, attempting to push down the smirk that was forming on your face. “Don’t call her a thing, this is your daughter,” you joked with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But you can take…Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday!” You exclaimed, taking the baby from Miles and checking your calendar. Great, Wednesday!

“My daughter huh? Aight, I gotchu,” he sniggered before tucking his phone in his back pocket. He tapped on the table, shooting you a wink you swear you hallucinated before retreating to his group of homies without another word. Your head dropped down to your fake baby, fighting back a smirk as you submerged yourself back in your conversation.

Whatever you thought this project was going to be, you certainly didn’t anticipate anything from the road ahead.

It was 1 AM, and your arms felt sore from the constant rocking of this baby that weighed nothing less than 7 pounds. You changed what felt like 4 diapers, fed her for almost 20 minutes, and spent your night pacing through your kitchen to calm her down. You whined along with the baby, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be finished soon. You grabbed your phone from your shorts pocket, quickly dialing up Miles as a last attempt. You felt like you were intruding on his private life, but something in this goddamn world has to give.

The phone rang twice, sighing to yourself when you heard the familiar ringtone come to an abrupt stop. There was rustling, what sounded like a low breathy grunt, before Miles picked up the phone. “Yo…what’s good, whatchu need?” he mumbled, his voice sounding sickeningly velvety as he attempted to shake the sleep from his vocal cords. “Uh, hey. Anylah won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…Can you come help, please?” You winced, balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. He made a low noise that sounded like a cross of a low hum of approval, and a groan of missed sleep before he got up, stretched, threw on a quick hoodie, and knotted his sweats. “I’ll be over in like…a couple minutes” he grumbled, hanging up almost as soon as you could say “thanks.”

He knocked at your front door not even five minutes later, leaving you to drown in his shadow as he stood over you with a tired, blank, and semi-serious expression. The frosty air from the outdoors nipped at any inch of skin it could find purchase, leaving you to beckon him inside the door as quickly as possible. You handed him the crying infant, watching as his eyes widened by a fraction before returning to their initial low post. “Damn, not even a hello?” He chuckled as he took a wailing Anylah in his arms, rocking the baby at an oddly specific angle. “I know you didn’t just pull up to my crib talkin’ like someone's absent baby father…” you joked, rolling your eyes and taking your respective place back on the couch.

“Hello, Morales.” You commented, leaning your head on his shoulder sleepily as he sat next to you on the couch. He nodded, somehow managing to hush the baby within the first 45 seconds of holding her. You huffed, feeling slightly irritated at how he managed to finish what you were attempting to do for over an hour in only a minute. “You were rocking her…too fast,” he slurred, clearly tired as he attempted to hold his eyes open. You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep, attempting to reach for the baby before ultimately clocking out for the night.

You woke up feeling groggy, sluggish, and plagued by a small migraine. Both Anylah and Miles were nowhere to be found, feeling around for your phone only to grab a purple sticky note stuck to the back of your phone case.

‘Went back home.’

You sighed, shooting Miles a text immediately that let him know to not disappear like that with the doll. You got ready for school, taking a scalding hot shower and repeating your daily routine of thoroughly scrubbing and exfoliating your face. You threw on your uniform, prioritizing the aesthetic of your uniform as you tugged on some rather cutesy slouch socks. You skipped breakfast at home, opting to grab something from the cafeteria before slipping out the front door and facing the cold air once again. Damn, this day was bound to be long as hell.

You reached school, giggling at your phone down the street as you ‘bickered’ back and forth with Miles.

‘alr alr mb. I didnt think it thru.’

‘Fym you didn’t think it through? I thought I was finna fail’

‘u actin like sb baby mama rn.’

‘Ntm now’

‘my fault’

You powered off your phone, jamming the smooth plastic case into the deep pockets of your black shorts under your school skirt. Today you had a class on burping babies and how to properly dress them for the winter, eagerly anticipating the cute little coats they’d provide for your shared babydoll. You took your seat, silently doodling in your notebook until you heard the familiar cold tone fade into the classroom. “Qué quieres decir? Esta mi mamá del bebé es ahí mismo,” he chuckled, carrying both the baby bag in one hand and Anylah in the other. “Baby mama is craaazy…” the boy he was talking to muttered, looking utterly tired and vaguely annoyed.

He took his seat next to you, giving you an upward nod as he cradled Anylah in one arm while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone with the other.

“Not you calling me your baby mother…”

"It's funny"

Tags ♡

@ashsostrangee @chessboxx @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #e42 miles x black!reader #e42 miles #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader

581 notes · View notes

fookinfandoms · 2 years

Text

Angel of the Morning | Tangerine

pairing: tangerine x female reader

plot: Part Two to All in a Days Work!

Not edited, I’ll do it later.

warnings: language, mentions of blood, violence, they’re assassins idk what you expect tbh, Smut! Unprotected* P in V, dirty talk, rough seggs.

taglist: @jonnae17 @caotica-e-quieta @ashyyslashy @imslimshadey @or1on-writes @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch @sweetangerinee @marv3lwhor3 @m00nkn1ghts @hello1276 @revenstaz @deceitfuldeviln @piechans @stickyllamapersonatree @dangoo1o @idk-what-to-name-this127 @stevebuckysdoll @crystal-jack-asripines @isuwhw818 @noz4a22 @dogsandrocketsocks @rowen-mp3 @ivedonemywaiting13 @queenofstarsanddarkness @miraosu @mistonk @white-wolf-buckaroo @rickiisrad @duuckyfuzz @piechans @chanooopy @potentially-kinetic @adrienette715 @feralforfruit @mushywutty @blackparacosm @sugarpenchant @justshutupmars @cuddlyklaus

The bar was lowly lit, the occasional drunk pondering around the place like it was heaven. It smelt of an old wood and spilt alcohol, the occasional stickiness of the countertop making your drink look less appetising. A dingy place like this meant no cameras, no security and no angry men with guns.

It was nice.

You were still in France, having left Paris for a smaller and less populated area. Your payment was successfully in your account with next to no issues, and a plane ticket back home had been booked with your name on it. So why were you even here?

You knew why, and you knew he had tracked you down. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. He was alone, that you knew for a fact. It was unusual for the fruity twins to be separated, which is why you weren’t in the least bit worried. If he wanted to, he could’ve sniped you from the building across the road, hell, he could’ve paid a drunk to slip something in your drink.

But he didn’t.

Instead he had pinged your phone to your exact location. He had styled his hair a little differently, and he even tucked his shirt in a little tighter than usual.

Tangerine was nervous.

Your smirk into your drink as a familiar body took to the seat next to yours, his hand raising to order a scotch and another beer. He stood out like sore thumb, his accent sounding stronger as he gives a thumbs up to the bartender.

“Been waiting long darling?” He gives you a quick glance, his eyebrow quirked with his usual cockiness.

You turn your head, taking in the assassins appearance as he slides the new beer to in front of you. He gets comfortable on the stool, his arms resting on the counter as he faces you.

Holding up your current bottle, you shake it a little, showing there was only a few sips taken. “Not long at all.”

“S’good then, how’s my intel?” He chuckles at his own joke, watching as you take a look around at the dimly lit building for any listening ears. You lean forward, your eyes narrowing with a humorous glint.

“How’s the head? You retort, your hand raising to flick at his forehead. He winces at the feeling, knowing he had no way at hiding the bruise that currently resided on his skin.

“You can ask me that later,” Tangerine quipped, noticing the way your eyebrow raised at the innuendo. “Don’t you worry.”

“Later huh?” You elbow at him gently. “And here I thought you were going to take me into a back alley and put one in the back of my head.”

“Haven’t decided against it yet,” It was clear he was joking at the way his lips curved into a small smile. “Besides, whose to say Lemon isn’t waitin’ around the corner with a frying pan right now.”

“Because Lemon is currently sitting in room fourteen of hotel étoile, and he’s just ordered room service,” It was your turn to smile at his shocked expression, and Tangerine didn’t know what to think. How easy were they to track? How did you know about the room service. “What? You think I’m the only one here who can be traced? Please.”

He sits there with his mouth slightly open, wondering if he should contact his brother and rearrange his stay. But as you begin to chuckle next to him, Tangerine knew that you weren’t a threat, nor did you have any hits out on the two of them.

He exhales loudly, his head quirking to the side as he takes a sip of his scotch. Tangerine had read your file, of course you would’ve done your research before staying put in such an open location. You had the whole situation under control before he had even stepped foot in the bar.

Clever.

“Why didn’t you go home?” The Englishman chooses to change the subject much to your enjoyment, and you shrug at him in response. He takes another swig at his drink as you finally answer.

“Guess I needed some vitamin C.” Tangerine chokes on his scotch, immediately wiping at his chin with the back of his sleeve as you wink at him. Maybe it was the beer talking, or maybe it was the last few days finally weighing in on the two of you.

You had been thinking about the fucker with a 70’s pornstache since you had left him on the kitchen floor.

Maybe it was the way he looked underneath the flickering neon signs, but god he looked good. The pulsing adrenaline he had left in your veins when you were both tussling in the kitchen, sure - he had left a nasty bruise on your stomach, but you had given him a few more reminders on his own.

The two of you talk for awhile, Tangerine having taken his jacket off to cover your bare shoulders during your second beer. He didn’t seem as bitter about the whole frying-pan-to-the-forehead ordeal than you thought, choosing to see the humour in it now more than anything.

You almost felt guilty, but considering he and his brother were only offered a quarter of what you were paid - you would’ve been stupid to refuse the job.

He talks about his brother, and it warms you seeing how highly he spoke of him. Having a partner was something you never considered - let alone a sibling, so it was clear the two of them had a serious bond. Tangerine was careful with what he admitted, just as you were with your own backstory.

You told him how you had been in the job since you were eighteen, having been handled by Xan and his team since the moment you became Angel.

You told him where the name had come from, mentioning how your first ever job was pretending to be an Angel in a Christmas play in order to take out the king pin who had organised the event. It annoyed you at first, until you realised there were people out there with alias such as Tangerine, so you really couldn’t complain.

He laughed loudly at that, bringing up the nickname you had given the two of them upon first meeting. The ‘Fruity Twins’, it had irked him at first, but he realised then he would let you joke about anything at his expense if it meant he saw you laugh.

Tangerine was now showing you his tattoos, having noticed you observing them when his had pinned his sleeves back. You asked about various scars surrounding them, nodding along as he told you about every job that had caused them.

He pointed at one on your collarbone, and you told him it was actually from your childhood, and any scars from work were hidden behind clothes.

He didn’t miss the hint with that one.

A wide grin falls upon his lips as he notices your eyes lingering on his ring clad fingers, his hands tensing under your gaze. “If you want to get out of here love, all you have to do is ask.”

You feel your skin heat up at question. Tangerine studies the way your lips turn upward as you think over his words, and it isn’t until you look into his eyes that Tangerine’s blood begins rushing in all directions.

It’s always the eyes. You don’t break eye contact, it was nearly impossible when he stared into your soul with such a darkened gaze. He shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here. The two of you were supposed to be at each others throats.

So why did you want him in yours so bad?

You should be with anybody else but him. You weren’t scared by any means, hell, the mere thought of the man was enough to excite you, let alone having him in front of you eye fucking you like you were his last meal - And how could he tell you that you were the only thing on his mind the entire time you two were apart?

Lemon blamed the concussion, told him he was thinking with his cock and not his brain, but Tangerine knew he had to see you again - even if you were dangerous.

The two of you should be taking each other out, no doubt paying off someone else’s bounty. You were the last person he should trust, just as he was the last person you should be taking back to your hotel.

You nod at him. Tangerine stands, holding his arm out for you as your free hand pulls his jacket tighter over you. He keeps you close as you leave, his arm wrapped around your waist in a gentle grip.

It felt like hours as the two of you walked in a comforting silence. He let you lead the way, not knowing where it was that you were staying. Tangerine wanted so badly to press you against any nearest surface and kiss you, to feel you against his body like you had done to him in that kitchen.

But he was a gentlemen, and he knew it would be more comfortable to throw you on a bed than it would a bricked surface.

It was nice walking the streets, rarely did you get to enjoy another countries quiet time, let alone with someone at your side. Deep down, you felt that Tangerine felt the same, noticing the way his hands would squeeze at your sides as you walked.

By the time the two of you had found your hotel and entered the elevator, Tangerine was already beginning his playful touches. His fingers began sliding from their position on your hip to your rear, his hand cupping your cheek as you pressed your floor.

He kept his attention on the doors as you squirmed a little, feeling the goosebumps on your skin with every gentle touch.

You see him smirk in the corner of your eye, and you match it, pulling your hand forward to glide over his crotch slowly. Tangerine’s smirk immediately disappears, and his head whips to yours as you give him an innocent smile.

“Are we playin’ dirty love?” He mumbles down at you, his eyes closing a little as you apply a little pressure to his clothed cock.

“Are you complaining?” You ask. Tangerine shakes his head eagerly, cursing aloud as the elevator doors open to an empty hallway.

You find yourself pressed against your rooms door before its even clicked shut, his lips hungrily meeting your own. Your mind instantly is taken back to a few days ago, revelling in the way he pushes into you like you were going to disappear.

The hair above his lip tickles at your skin - and you had nearly forgotten the feeling. It was unusual, but not uncomfortable. His calloused hand cups your jaw, tilting your head so you’re at a better angle to match his pace.

Tangerine pulls away for a gasp of air, his free hand sliding his jacket from over your shoulders to meet the carpeted floor. You’re panting, your chest rising quickly as the larger man props his arms against the door above your head.

“Been thinkin’ about these lips all week darling,” He groans, his own breath coming out laboured. “You been thinkin’ ‘bout me?”

You nod, choosing not to speak. You were worried you would end up telling him to strip then and there. Tangerine didn’t exactly look like someone who liked taking orders.

Maybe he would learn.

His lips press back to yours, his tongue gliding along your lips in a silent beg to let him in. He groaned against your lips, your skin feeling soft and warm against his own, and Tangerine pulled you away from the door. His arms rope around the small of your back, warmth pouring over you in a wave that suffocated you so perfectly.

He parts from you again, the air leaving your lungs in a small sigh. He eyes you, his blue eyes roaming over you in a clouded gaze. You feel his rings pressing into your skin, and Tangerine leans down once again, leaving you to release a soft moan as he bites at the skin on your neck.

Your hands press against his broad chest, scratching at the material of his shirt as he continues nipping at your throat - no doubt leaving marks. The heat in your lower stomach grew with every kiss, the throbbing ache between your thighs beginning to dominate your thoughts.

It wasn’t like you to let someone control a scene, so as Tangerine was distracted with the zipper of your dress, you push him away, letting him fall to the bed below. He sat upright immediately, his breathing just as erratic as yours.

He’s about to speak when you’re on him again, pushing him down and straddling his broad thighs. His hands reach under your dress instantly, his fingers dancing with the flesh of your ass and the lace of your panties.

“Fuck,” He curses through clenched teeth. Tangerine couldn’t get over how beautiful you looked, your lips swollen and your clothes askew. “I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

You chuckle down at him, your eyes half lidded. “Yeah?” You whisper softly, flashing the fruit a sweet smile. You grind against him, biting your lip at the groan that escapes his lips. “How bad?”

“God,” He keens, feeling his cock straining against his pants. “K-Keep movin’ like that Angel.”

“Who would’ve thought you would be so needy.” You tease, and it was then that you saw the gears turn in Tangerines eyes.

You had already bested him once, made him feel smaller than anyone had done so in a very, very long time. The bruise on his forehead was a reminder every time he had woken up this past week. He wasn’t going to let you control this time too, not if he could help it.

He was good with his hands, you’ll give him that. Tangerine had grabbed at the waistline of your dress, tearing at the fabric until it pooled around the blankets at your side. Your eyes were wide at the action, whereas Tangerine’s eyes were on your bra covered breasts. He had a quick glimpse of them before when you had hidden a usb in there, and the man grinned as you sat upright.

“Do you have any idea how much that cost?” You gasped, staring at the designer name in pieces.

He sits upright with you, your chest now pressed against his. He grins at your expression, knowing you weren’t entirely as pissed off as you attempted to show. “You’ve got a million in the account love, I’m sure you can buy more.”

Asshole.

You don’t respond, knowing it’ll be an insult more than a complaint. Tangerine glides his fingers over the bare skin of your back, and your eyes close at the feeling. “What to do with you hm?” He mutters, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

He wanted to be rough. He wanted to take you then and there.

But you just felt so good like this, touching him and grinding against him like he was the last man on earth.

He continues his exploration on your skin before he’s cupping your face, kissing you a little softer than before. His moustache again tickles at your cheeks, causing you to grin against his lips. He’s quick to soften your sounds, nipping at your lip to grant his tongue entrance.

You’re gripping at the ends of his shirt, pulling at the fabric and loosening it. Your hands slip under, and it was your turn to run your hands over the hard muscle that lay beneath. “Take it off.” You mumble in between kisses.

“You could rip it?” He jokes, pulling away to meet your unamused expression. He shrugs, pulling his shirt up and over his body. The fabric joins his jacket on the floor, and you don’t hide the raised eyebrow as his tongue darts out as he attempts to kick his shoes off.

“You’re not as scary as your file makes you out to be,” You reach behind you, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the ground. “You’re just a little softy aren’t you?”

Tangerine’s eyes immediately land on your breasts, his head jerking to the side as he exhales. “There’s nothin’ little about me love.” He leans forward, taking a nipple into his mouth before you can reply.

Yeah.

You could feel him beneath you.

It’s definitely not a gun in his pants.

Your hands wound their way into his hair, tugging as he bites at the skin of your breast. “Fuck.” Your head falls back with a moan.

He decided then and there that he could listen to your pretty noises forever.

He wants more.

As beautiful as you looked on his lap, Tangerine was done letting you believe you had the upper hand. His cock was hard in his pants, almost straining against the rough material in a need for release. With a gasp, you find yourself thrown onto your back, Tangerine’s hands on either side of your head as he pins your lower half beneath him.

“That’s better,” He releases you for a quick moment, however keeping his eyes on you as he unbuckles his belt. “Bit quiet there Angel, you alright?”

You nod, not able to stop yourself from ogling at the view above you. Various scars covered his abdomen, a tattoo resting on his pec, a familiar bruise resided on his hip, disappearing towards his back.

Your doing, naturally.

“Look at the mess you’re making love,” Tangerine nods towards your panties, chuckling at the way you squirm under his gaze. “What a fuckin’ sight that is.”

He goes to lean forward, when you grab his shoulder, shaking your head. He gives you a confused look, and you curse loudly. “I want you, now.”

“And you’ll have me,” Again he goes to kiss above your pubic bone, scratching his chin along your lace underwear. “Just want a taste, that’s all.”

“Mmf - please, just fuck me already.” God you wouldn’t blame him for mocking you, who were you right now? You barely recognised your own voice.

“What’s the rush?” He taunts, that cocky voice of his stronger than ever. “Not that I’m complainin’, begging looks good you.”

“And you’ll good on me,” You groan as Tangerine rips your underwear, lifting your ass slightly to pull it away. “Stop ripping my fucking clothes.”

He sniggers, drinking in your now naked state. Your pupils dilated, lips swollen and skin flushed with heat.

An angel.

The corner of your lips twitched, your tongue swiping over the skin as you nod towards Tangerine’s crotch. “Need help?”

His zipper was undone, the bulge of his cock flush against his underwear. He shakes his head, taking the time to stand and remove his pants completely. Before you could say his name, the man was back on top of you, his palm spread on your throat before grasping at your hair as you moaned at the sensation.

Tangerine wanted to watch you come undone. He wanted to watch your eyelashes flutter as you hit your high and screamed his name. He wanted his name to be the only thought on your mind. “So beautiful,” He sighs against your throat, groaning as you grind against him like a broken record. “A real fuckin’ angel.”

His cock rests against your thigh - thick, hard and throbbing. You part your legs, letting him rest between you more comfortably as his own hard thighs cover yours. Your hips roll into his, and you grinned at the delicious sound he let out as his tip swept over your cunt.

Your skin burned under his touch, and Tangerine tilts his head, mumbling your name against your cheek before bringing his lips to yours once more. You sigh into his mouth, the sound disappearing under his own groans. His cock bumps over your slit and your hips shift, brushing his head through your wetness as Tangerine reaches down with a free hand, lining himself up.

Your head hits the pillow as he slides in, and it felt like the air had been taken from your lungs as you felt the mouthwatering burn of his size. He curses loudly as his hips snap against yours in a hard thrust, bottoming out.

“Fuck,” He grunts with a lick of your lips. “D’you feel that? D’you have any idea how fucking good you feel? Squeezin’ me l-like -“

You clench around him, cutting him off from his rambling. Tangerine repositions his arms before he slowly pulls out, revelling in the soft whines leaving your swollen mouth at the action. He let you enjoy his teasing thrusts for a little longer before he began thrusting harder, your words becoming incoherent as his pace quickened.

His pounding is hard and definitive, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to hold on. He just feels so heavy and he makes you feel so unbearably full.

“O-Oh god.” Your eyes squeeze shut, and Tangerine kisses at your cheek - an almost sweet action in comparison to the assault he’s hailing on your pussy.

“Just me Angel,” He grunts, a playful tone behind his usual gruff voice. “Just me.”

Tangerine finds a steady rhythm, his thrusts bringing his hard body flush against yours in a dire need to feel your heat. One thrust lands just perfectly, a loud moan forcing its way out as he laughs against you.

“Yeah?” He taunts as he mimics the sound, noticing the way you just manage to roll your eyes at him. “Oh we can’t have that now.” His voice was merely a whisper as he says your name, a shudder running through your body as you clench around him, causing his own hips to shudder in return.

He fucked into you at such a pace that you knew he had ruined you for anybody else. It was his goal, to mark you and leave you wanting everything he could give. Tangerine felt you squeeze around him again, the lewd sounds of his cock pushing into your soaked cunt making his thoughts clouded.

His finger just glides over your clit as you come undone, cumming on his cock with an arched back and raise of your hips. His eyes widen at the sight, a charmed smile on his cheeks as your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Good girl,” He laughs down at you, continuing his thrusts. “Aren’t you just gorgeous.”

Tangerine’s breathless, his attention solely on the way you shake beneath him, your breasts bouncing as you climax. He can feel the own pulse of his dick throbbing as you squeeze around him, and as his name leaves your lips in a silent prayer he too comes undone. He cums inside of you with a final snap of his hips, his body shuddering as he curses loudly. His head rests against your shoulder as he stills, his grunts like music to your ears.

He rests on you gently before pulling out, the immediate empty feeling making you sigh as he rolls onto his back beside you. “Fuckin’ hell.” His breathing was sharp, a slight sheen on sweat on his chest.

You just stared at him in a comfortable silence as you attempted to find your bearings, watching as Tangerine grabs your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. “You with me?”

You nod at him with a smile, and he chuckles, a cocky grin finding it’s home. “S’good, because we aren’t done.”

“What?” You almost whine, and he sits up, gripping at your waist and dragging you closer to him.

“Head darling,” He looks at you like you’re the one not making any sense. “Gotta give you somethin’ to ask me about in the mornin’ yeah?”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine smut #tangerine fic #tangerine bullet train #all in a days work #fookinfandoms #bullet train smut

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save-the-villainous-cat · 4 months

Note

Villain who actually used to be sinister and obnoxious is now an AMNESIAC lil softie😩😩😩

For whatever reason, the villain blocked the hero's hit perfectly. Not only that, but when the hero went in for a kick, the villain managed to throw them off balance. Before the hero could fall to the ground, the villain caught them, arm around the hero's waist, pulling them closer than decency allowed.

The villain's eyes widened and a gasp escaped them. Despite the hero's blush, they tried to look grumpy and annoyed - as so often - but the villain could tell it was just for show. What a night. They were exhausted and confused.

"Sorry," the villain whispered. "I almost hit you."

They pulled themselves up and with them the hero.

"No, it's fine, it's good." As soon as possible, the hero took a step back and the villain still felt the warmth of their waist on their fingertips. Was it possible to yearn for someone they had forgotten? Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe they hadn't forgotten the hero at all. They remembered parts of them, not the whole picture but the most beautiful pieces, it seemed.

"I'm sorry if I-"

"Your muscle memory seems to be pretty good. I think you learnt how to fight at a very young age. Which is...sad." The hero looked at them and their face softened. Suddenly, the villain felt a familiar pain in their chest. Something was hitting close to home. "But you're not as aggressive as before. We need to work on that."

"I appreciate that you want to help me, really. But I think I don't want to be violent," the villain said. The hero touched their own chin, thinking intensively. That was familiar too.

"I've told you a lot of people want you dead," the hero said slowly. "Killing you would turn the whole city upside down. Every criminal tries to be on top of the whole network."

"Can't I just, I dunno, retire?"

"If you want criminals to take over and burn everything down to prove that they are the one on top of the food chain...sure." The hero took in a deep breath. "It's hard to admit but I need you. This city needs you. You keep things organized. You cause damage, yes, but if it wasn't you, it would be five different criminals at five different locations and I don't have the time nor the energy for that."

"Seems like I was a big deal before they fried my brain," the villain said. From what they had been told, they had been a horrible human being. They didn't really miss not remembering.

But there was one thing they wished they hadn't forgotten.

One person.

"You have no idea," the hero whispered. They were quiet for a moment but the villain was sensing that their annoyed and grumpy mask was slipping from their face. "Sometimes it feels pretty lonely. We used to talk about that every now and then."

"We used to talk?" the villain asked, even though they knew they hadn't always tried to murder the hero. Trying to remember was like going through mist and when they had seen the hero for the first time again, it had felt like a warm light in the middle of all the thick fog was calling them.

The hero smiled.

"Most of the time you tried to make me join you. You loved taking me hostage."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing." The villain was disgusted at their own actions. What on earth had driven them to such drastic measures? It was like the villain from the past was someone else.

"...no, of course it wasn't a good thing. It was...different." The hero cleared their throat. "Talking to you was refreshing in a sense. I don't know, it is hard to explain. Our relationship was difficult."

"Like a love-hate-thing?" The hero looked at them but didn't say anything. That was enough of an answer for the villain and acid started to burn their throat. So, the hero had liked them and now they seemed annoyed by them.

What if the hero had liked their old version more? The villain that was violent and aggressive? What if the hero wouldn't like how they were now? What if the hero absolutely loathed them now because they weren't the right villain?

"I was taught not to show any emotions to my enemies. I think that has made me quite bitter but you challenged that. I was angry at you and I hated you a lot of the time. But in your soft moments I loved your voice. I loved your thoughts. I loved when you were kind to me. When you decided to saved me before death could take me. I loved it when you talked to me and argued with me without being an asshole. And those mixed feelings for you conflicted me."

And now? The villain's heart was beating in their chest, loud enough, they swore, for the hero to hear.

"Of course, I knew you wouldn't understand it. You were doing this for your own benefits. You were a strategist, after all. It is more complicated now for me. You're someone I like a little too much."

"You've been waiting to get that off your chest, haven't you?" The hero looked at the ground and back at the villain. Their ears were red and they closed their hands into fists over and over again. They closed their eyes, swallowed.

"I know training can get tiresome and-"

"I remember talking to you. You're pretty much the only thing I remember. Little details. What you look like. What you smell like. Honestly, I thought we were married when I saw you for the first time after waking up." The hero's blush stretched over their cheeks. "Maybe you can give me some more tips? Punches and kicks, I mean."

"Y-yeah of course." The villain smiled softly.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Text

call me.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you & eddie have fun together while you’re apart for the night. first in the “when i think about you, i touch myself” tie-in trilogy.

word count: 6k

warnings: phone sex, male & female masturbation, dildo play, use of a polaroid camera, nipple play, lots of dirty talk, basically just pure filth.

a/n: i hope yall like this one! it is the first of a trilogy that will be tied into my “when i think about you, i touch myself” series. if you haven’t read that yet, you should definitely check it out! however, you don’t have to be familiar with it to enjoy these fics.

minors dni!!

—————————————————-

Three months had passed since you started dating Eddie Munson.

That fateful day, when he’d walked in on you touching yourself to him, still felt like only yesterday. The two of you were inseparable, more than you had been as friends, and spent every available moment together. He would sometimes spend the night at your place, and often fucked you in some new, exciting location there before the two of you slept. Other times, you would go to his trailer, often when Wayne was gone so that you had privacy. Eddie would practice guitar, or start working on a new campaign for Hellfire Club, but would often get so distracted that he ended up nailing you on some surface in his room. Other times, the two of you were content to just lie in bed, sharing a joint or cigarette and making out lazily as you did so, basking in each other’s company. Being with Eddie was never boring, in any capacity, which made it even more difficult to be apart.

That happened to be the case on this particular night. You had to work late, and since he had to go to school the next day for Hellfire Club (which were days he definitely did not skip), you optioned out of going over. Doing so would ensure the two of you being up half the night, which wouldn’t be good for either of you the following morning. You did promise to call when you got home, however, so you went to your room and changed out of your clothes, throwing on his Judas Priest shirt and a pair of black lace cheeky panties. Once you were ready, you plopped onto your bed, grabbing your bedside phone and dialing Eddie’s number.

It rang for so long that you almost hung up. You thought that maybe he’d gone out, or was playing music and couldn’t hear the phone, or had fallen asleep early. The thought of any of those scenarios made you a little sad; you really missed him, and you wanted to hear his voice before you turned in for the night. You sighed, ready to admit defeat and hang up the phone. Before you could, though, you heard the click of a phone being answered, and then Eddie’s voice was in your ear.

“Hello?” he said, his voice raspy with sleep. “Who’s this?”

“Eddie?” you asked, twirling the phone cord in your fingers. “Hey, it’s me.”

“y/n, hey!” Eddie said happily, sounding a lot perkier than moments before. “Jesus, what time is it?!”

“Just past nine,” you replied with a soft smile. “Did I wake you? You sound tired.”

“Nah, he said, but you weren’t quite convinced. “I was just dozing a little. Going over some last minute stuff for this campaign tomorrow wore me out.”

“Should I let you go, so that you can get some rest?” you asked. “You really should sleep, so that you can get up in the morning.”

“No,” he insisted, quite firmly. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you all evening. I’m really fine, I swear.”

“I believe you,” you said, grinning into the phone as you continued toying with the cord. “I’ve been looking forward to it as well.”

“I wish you were here right now, though,” Eddie said, chuckling breathlessly. “Uncle Wayne is gone for the night, and I really miss that pretty pussy of yours.”

You shivered, a soft whimper falling past your lips. “If you didn’t have to be up early, I’d come over with bells on.”

“Put them on your boobs,” Eddie joked, and both of you laughed. “Nah, but seriously. I really wish you were here.”

“Me, too,” you said with a sigh. “Being away from you is absolute torture.”

“The worst kind,” Eddie agreed. “But anyway, how was your night?”

“Super slow,” you said, crossing your legs together. “Boring as hell without one of your ‘special visits.’”

“Oh, those,” he said, with a knowing smile in his tone. “The visits that involve us fucking like rabbits in the parking lot or a supply closet?”

“Those are the ones,” you said, biting your lip at some of those memories. His hands on your thighs as he held you up against the supply closet wall, his ringed fingers around your throat as he absolutely railed you in the back of his van in the parking lot, his breath hot in your ear as he fucked you behind the building because he was jealous of someone flirting with you… “I did daydream a lot about you, though, but had to stop doing that after awhile.”

“Why?” Eddie asked.

“Because,” you said, smirking and biting your lip, “it was starting to make me really, really wet.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed softly. “Poor baby, though. Bet you were wishing I would come in, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said. “How did your night go? Aside from all the exhausting D&D stuff.”

“The same as yours, pretty much,” he said. “I played some guitar, looked over the campaign for a little bit, and then I…well, I guess you could say I had to take a break.”

“How’s come?” you asked.

“I had to jerk off,” he answered, a smirk in his voice.

“Oh?” you said, rolling onto your stomach. “What got you going so badly that you had to do that?”

“You did,” he answered. “I kept imagining you, naked and holding my guitar as I took pictures. I imagined throwing you onto the bed, and eating your pussy until you begged me to stop because it hurt so damn good. I thought of fucking you from behind, choking you while I made you suck your own cum off of my fingers. I thought of making you cum repeatedly on my dick, making a huge mess all over my sheets every damn time.”

“Shit,” you said, a throbbing ache settling between your thighs at the very thought. “That’s so hot, not gonna lie.”

“It’s been so lonely without you here,” Eddie said with a dramatic sigh. “I miss how fucking good it feels to be inside of you.”

“Is that all you miss?” you teased.

“Nah, I really miss those tits, too,” he said with a laugh. “Come on, I miss you. All of you.”

“You’re ridiculous sometimes,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Well, right now, I’m ridiculously horny, so…” he said, and you could hear his fingers drumming against something; the table by the phone, most likely. “Seriously, I’m gonna start humping one of these chairs soon, if I don’t get some kind of relief.”

“Maybe we should fix that,” you suggested, lying on your back again and staring at the ceiling. “Do you remember how I told you, awhile back, that phone sex was a fantasy I always wanted to try?”

“Oh, I could never forget,” Eddie said. “I’ve always been curious about it, too.”

“We have a good opportunity tonight,” you pointed out. “We’re apart, so what better time to give it a shot than right now?”

“You’re right,” he said, and after a thoughtful pause: “How should we do it?”

“I want you to start off by telling me exactly what you would do to me if we were together,” you said. “We can just see where it goes from there.”

“You really wanna go there, huh?” Eddie asked, and you could hear a smile in his voice again.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Come on, Eddie. Tell me?”

“I guess that depends on what you’re wearing right now,” he said. “Tell me that.”

“Your Judas Priest shirt and black lace panties,” you replied. “Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”

“God, that’s hot as shit,” he said. “No bra, I assume?”

“You’d be correct,” you said, running your fingers between your breasts at the mention. “How about you? What are you wearing?”

“Just a pair of boxers,” he said. “So, tell me, how are those tits looking right now? Are the nipples poking through the fabric the way I like?”

“Yeah,” you said, tracing over one breast with a soft hiss. “Your shirt feels so damn good against them, which made them pretty hard.”

“Shit, y/n,” he breathed. “Well, let’s just say that if we were together right now, I’d be sucking on them, biting them, tugging the nipples in my teeth. Your tits are my favorite part of you, do you know that?”

“You may have mentioned it once,” you said with a giggle. “Or maybe fifty times.”

“I remember how wet you got when I tore your shirt the first time we had sex,” he said. “I also remember how fucking horny I got when I first laid eyes on your chest. I honestly didn’t think my dick could have been any harder, but I seriously underestimated how perfect those tits were. I would love to have those pretty nipples in my mouth right now. Sucking, licking, biting, swirling my tongue…Hearing those filthy moans as I do it.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, your hand instinctively squeezing your breast through the shirt. “Keep going.”

“I’d roll the other nipple in my fingers for a little bit,” he said. “Maybe even start fingering you after awhile, once your pussy is wet enough. I know you well enough by now to know that won’t take long, so I would start that fairly quickly. Two fingers, pushed in to the rings, making those dirty, wet sounds we both love so much. Fucking you, curling against that spot inside of you that drives you wild, all while I tease you about how wet you are for me. Still sucking on those nipples as I do all of it to you.”

You whined pleasurably, reaching under the shirt with your free hand to play with your nipple. You exhaled shakily, biting back a moan as you rolled the small bud between your fingers. He continued talking about what he would do to your breasts & your cunt, and you imagined that your fingers were his mouth instead. You were getting more aroused at that point, your panties clinging to you as you listened to him speak. His sleepy voice was insanely hot, and it really helped you in what you were doing. You moaned a bit louder into the phone when he began talking about kissing down your stomach, and cursed yourself for giving him the satisfaction so soon. You knew what was coming, and you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was extremely amused.

“Having fun over there?” he teased. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m playing with my tits and imagining that it’s you doing it,” you said, arching a little as you tugged your other nipple in your fingers. “Your mouth, your fingers, picturing what you would look like as you suck on them.”

“Are you wet?” Eddie asked, his voice coming out in a breath.

“Yeah,” you said, grinning into the receiver. “Not as wet as I’m about to be, though, right?”

“You mean when I talk about eating your pussy?” Eddie asked, laughing as your breath audibly hitched. “Yeah, I thought so. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have my head between your legs now. Tasting you, feeling you clench around my fingers, seeing how fucking wet you’re getting for me. I would start low and work my way to your clit, my tongue dragging through your cunt, before moving back down. Imagine if I got that tongue piercing that I keep talking about.”

“Oh, dear God,” you whimpered, tracing lazy circles over your clit through your panties. “You know how hot I think that would be.”

“I promise that I’ll get one someday,” he said. “For now, though, stay on your back for me. I want you to imagine my mouth all over your pussy, my tongue fucking into you, your thighs quaking around my head as I suck your clit, all while you moan for me. Shit, those moans of yours always get me going. Moan for me right now, y/n.”

You rubbed circles over your clit through your panties, moaning just like he wanted. You dipped your fingers in the side of them for only a moment, but you enjoyed the delicious feeling of the friction over your panties even more. You groaned as hotly as possible while you played with your clit, head falling back against the pillows as you did so. “Eddie…”

“Fuck, like that,” Eddie groaned. “That’s my good girl.”

“I love it so much when you go down on me,” you said. “You always look so pretty, and it feels so fucking good. You’re really amazing at it; no one has ever made me cum harder from that than you.”

“That’s really good for my ego,” he joked. “Tell me your favorite part about it.”

“Looking down and seeing you gazing back from between my legs,” you replied, fingers still grazing your clit. “Feeling your mouth on my clit, sometimes seeing your tongue dragging through the rest of my pussy, feeling your fingers deep inside of me, your hair falling in your eyes and sometimes tickling my thighs and around my cunt, seeing your hands gripping my thighs or playing with my tits. I love all of it so damn much.”

“You forgot the part where I tell you how hard I get just from eating you out,” Eddie teased. “How good my rings feel as they pound against your pussy, and how hot you think it is when I beat off while you flood my face.”

“All of that is so good, too,” you said. “Especially the part where you have to jerk off, because I’m turning you on so much that you need some kind of relief.”

“I fucking love when you cum on my tongue,” he said. “The way you grind on my face just before, holding my mouth against you by my hair while you do it. You always taste so much sweeter right before you cum, too, and when you actually do cum? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so goddamn amazing in my entire life. I’m getting hard right now just thinking about that alone.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, squirming a bit as you ghosted your clit with your fingertips. “The thought of you eating my pussy gets you rock fucking hard, huh?”

“Hell yeah it does,” Eddie replied. “I’m telling you, I could probably hammer a nail right now with the wood I’m getting.”

“How charming,” you joked.

“It does get me really fucking going, though, jokes aside,” he said. “I’m curious; what would you do to me right now, if we were together?”

“I’d love to suck your cock,” you said, your hand delving into the waistband of your panties. They were soaked, as was your cunt, your fingers gathering the wetness on your fingers and spreading it through your folds as you whined. “If I were there, I’d drop to my knees, pull your cock out, and lick from your balls to the tip, sucking on it for a minute as I look up at you. I’d kiss all over your shaft, with those sloppy, wet kisses that you love so much, all while making eye contact with you. Maybe I’d even squeeze your balls, palming them as I swirl my tongue around the head of your cock.”

“Jesus,” he panted. “You know how much I love it when you do that shit. Your mouth is a gift from the gods, I swear.”

“But you love my throat even more,” you said. “You love it when I deep throat you, or when I let you fuck my throat. I know it gets you off so hard when I choke on your cock, Eddie. I know you love seeing me drooling around your dick, or my makeup running down my face, if I wore any that day. You love how fucking messy I am when I suck you off, just like your own personal porn star.”

“I do love that,” he agreed, his breath caught in his throat. “You’re always hot as hell when you suck dick.”

“And let’s not forget how hard you came in your pants that time I was grinding in your lap,” you said with a breathy laugh. “My bare, wet pussy, dry humping you through your boxers. I’ve never seen you cum faster, and there was so much of it.”

“Because that was hot as shit,” he said. “I was hard as fuck, watching your tits as you moved along my cock. I love it when you give me a lapdance like that.”

“I’m not sure I would call it that, but sure,” you joked with another giggle. Your fingers glided through your slick folds, mewling shakily into the receiver. “Wanna know something that I’d love for you to do?”

“What?” Eddie asked, his own breathing slightly uneven.

“Cum on my tits after you fuck them,” you said, tracing slow, lazy circles against your clit at the thought of it. “Thinking about it is getting me so much wetter, Eddie. I can just feel your hard, thick, throbbing cock between them, or rubbing over my nipples, so warm and already leaking precum…”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said with a shuddering breath. “Keep talking like that, fuck.”

“I’d let you rub your cock on my nipples and all over my tits,” you said breathlessly. You were touching yourself even quicker now, fingers traveling through your folds at a decent pace. Your fingers trailed upward, stopping just below your clit as you cursed under your breath. “Every time you thrust toward my face, I’d lick the tip of your cock. Maybe I’d even pull you closer so that I could suck you off for a second.”

“y/n,” Eddie said, mewling softly. “Fuck, that’s so goddamn filthy.”

“Your balls would be so heavy, wouldn’t they?” you asked, moaning and arching a little as you pressed a finger inside of your sopping cunt. “Just aching to cum all over my pretty, perfect tits that you adore so much.”

“Yes,” he panted. “God, please.”

“And you can snap a Polaroid of them covered in cum to add to our little collection under your bed,” you said with a giggle. “You can take it out and jerk off to it when I’m not there. Just my boobs, covered in so much cum after you fucked them so hard. I might even gather some on my fingers, and put them in my mouth. Tasting you, mimicking a blowjob…Maybe you could take a photo of that, too.”

“Fucking Christ on a cross,” Eddie hissed. “Are you touching yourself yet?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m fucking myself on one finger right now.”

“Just like always,” he teased, then asked: “In or out of the panties?”

“In,” you said, smirking into the phone. “For now, at least.”

“Leave the panties on,” he instructed. “Don’t take them off until I say that you can. How wet are you now?”

“Extremely,” you answered. “My panties are drenched through, and my fingers are soaked. I’m so horny right now, Eddie.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, inhaling shakily. “Listen to what I tell you, okay? I want you to do everything that I say.”

“Okay,” you said, too lost in lust to argue or come up with some witty, sarcastic comment. “I’m listening.”

“Are you still fingering yourself in your panties?”

“Yeah, just like you asked me to.”

“Good. I want you to add a second finger, and then fuck yourself slowly with them.”

You did so, using your middle & ring fingers of your dominant hand. You cried out, back lifting slightly as they filled your sopping, needy cunt. Eddie cursed on the other end, hissing the dirty words as you pushed your fingers in to the final knuckle. Your cunt squeezed them, and you felt more wetness spreading as you began thrusting them slowly. You moaned at the sensation, clutching the phone in your free hand as you mewled. Eddie’s breathing was picking up on the other end, and you closed your eyes as he spoke again.

“Imagine that your fingers are mine,” he said, his voice even raspier now from lust. “I know they are a poor substitute, but humor me. My fingers are filling that beautiful, wet pussy, fucking you so goddamn hard that you feel as though you might die from how good it feels. Fuck yourself harder for me, sweetheart. Just the way you like when I do it.”

You began doing it as he said, moaning heavily as you imagine his hands. Those calloused fingers, the metallic heaviness of his rings, his palm against your clit as he fucked you on them from the correct angle, the thickness of his fingers…All of it was fucking delicious. He was right, in that your hands could never compare to the magic of his, but your imagination was just as great of an asset. You finger yourself even harder, picturing all of the filthy things his hands had ever done to you in the process. You ground your clit against your palm, head lolling against the pillows as the memories played in your mind. Wetness pooled in your panties, and Eddie’s labored breathing broke through your train of thought.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, voice a breathy moan as you whimpered. Your fingers curled inside of you, hitting your sweet spot as you moaned. “Oh, fuck, that’s my girl. Add another finger for me; fill your tight little cunt as much as possible for me.”

Your index finger joined the other two, and you groaned filthily as they stretched your walls further. He fell silent as he listened to you, the only sounds from him being his heavy breathing. You fingered yourself quickly, roughly, writhing as your moans fell into the receiver. “Eddie…Eddie…”

“Goddamn,” he breathed, exhaling in an uneven mewl. “Put the phone on your shoulder, and balance it. Use the hand that’s holding it and play with one of your nipples. Keep fingering yourself as you do it.”

You did as instructed, moaning hotly as you began rolling your nipple between your fingers beneath the shirt. The wet sounds of your fingers inside of your pussy fill the air, and Eddie moaned softly as he listened to them. You squirmed, back lifting off the mattress as you imagined his full, soft lips and velvety tongue around your nipple as his fingers pounded into you. You tugged the small bud, pinching it between your fingers as you hissed. More filthy noises fell from your lips, and Eddie’s breath had become far more ragged with the occasional groan. You chuckled breathlessly, still working both hands as you moaned again.

“Are you touching yourself, too?” you asked, the very thought causing another jolt of arousal to go straight to your pussy.

“I’m palming myself through my boxers for now,” he replied, his voice thick with mounting desire. “My dick is so hard right now that it’s actually painful. All because I can’t get the image of you playing with yourself out of my head, and those fucking sounds you’re making aren’t helping, either.”

“Mmm, you’re welcome, then,” you purred.

“I keep seeing that first day day we had sex, when I walked in on you touching yourself,” he said, groaning pleasurably. “The way you were fingering yourself under the blanket, how you kept moaning my name, the way your nipples poked through your shirt…”

“I’ll bet you think about that a lot when you’re alone, huh?” you asked, crying out in ecstasy as your fingers worked relentlessly. “How wet I was before you even touched me, how I got myself off so hard to you, and how you basically lived the porn dream of fucking me after.”

“Yes,” he panted, whimpering softly. “You’re such a good, dirty girl, y/n. I want you to get naked for me. Put the phone down, and take my shirt & your panties off.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You set the phone aside, ridding yourself of the drenched panties and the shirt. When you held the phone to your ear again and announced that the clothes were gone, he was hissing on his end. He told you to get a pillow and put it between your legs, and you did so in haste. You began grinding against it, pretending that it was his thigh as he’d told you, and more hot, dirty groans came past your lips as you did so.

“You have the hottest fucking moans I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” he said, whistling. “It never ceases to amaze me.”

“Eddie,” you moaned, grinding your clit against your pillow a bit harder. You whine, riding the side of the pillow as you grip the phone tightly. “I really wish this was your thigh. I’d love to fucking soak it, just like I’m doing to this pillow right now.”

“Stop, y/n,” he demanded, and you stilled your hips with reluctance. “I want you to go back to fingering yourself. Want you to make a big mess all over them when you cum.”

You rolled onto your back, and put your fingers inside again–three, just like before. You moaned loudly for his benefit, smirking as you did so, your fingers thrusting harder than before. You knew one thing that he enjoyed hearing every time you played with yourself in front of him, and decided to incorporate it. “I can’t wait to feel you throbbing inside of me as you fuck me so hard. I want you to fill me as much as you can when you cum. I want to feel it leaking down my thighs, and I want you to clean up the mess with your tongue when we’re both finished.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, and you could hear the faint sounds of him jerking off. “I’ll bet you’re so goddamn wet right now, hm? Take a picture with your fingers inside of you; I want to add it to my collection.”

“Hold on,” you said, setting the phone down so that you could grab the Polaroid camera that he gifted you a while back. You lie on the bed, pushing your fingers inside again with a hot mewl. You held the camera in one hand, the timer set as you wait for it to snap the photo. Once it does, you take hold of the picture and set the camera aside, waiting for the photo to develop as you picked the phone up. “All done. I made sure my fingers were as deep as possible, and that you could see just how soaking wet you really have me right now.”

“Mmm, good girl,” he praised, and the sounds of him beating his cock are a bit louder. “Hold the phone to your pussy. I wanna hear you fingering yourself.”

A smirk spread over your lips, and you told him to wait. You held the phone as close to your cunt as possible, and began fucking yourself at a hard, rough pace. The wet, obscene sounds of it echo into the receiver, and you knew that he was getting the earful that he wanted. You moaned as filthy as possible, mostly for his benefit, but also due to how fucking hot all of this was. You imagined his fingers rotating & scissoring in the way that drove you into a frenzy, crying out as you did so. You slammed them inside of you, making sure that the sounds were still loud enough for Eddie to hear. You brought the phone to your ear, wanting to check in with him, and were delighted to hear that he was moaning. He was also jerking off a bit faster at that point, by the sound of it.

“You’re hotter than any porn star in the world,” Eddie said. “One day, I’m going to film you fucking yourself before I pound the absolute shit out of you.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said, humming as you slowed your movements. “I’ll bet your cock is twitching right now, huh? So desperate to cum, picturing me getting destroyed by your fingers. I’ll bet you can practically taste my pussy, too, can’t you? I’ll bet you wish your face was soaking from eating me out, or that I cum so much around your cock that you’re absolutely drenched in it.”

“Jesus goddamn Christ,” he hissed, a breathy moan in your ear as he does so. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

“What is it?”

“Find that toy for me. You know the one I’m talking about?”

“I think so. The one that I said kinda resembles your cock?”

“That’s the one. Go get it for me.”

Once again, you got out of bed to search for the dildo in question. It took a minute to find, but you discovered it within a box in your lingerie drawer. You hopped onto the bed, flat on your back as you held the phone up. “Got it.”

“Rub it through your pussy for me,” he said with a low groan. “Imagine that I’m rubbing my cock through it before I push inside of you. Getting my dick wet, spreading your cum all over that pretty pussy before I pound you.”

You massaged the tip of the dildo through your folds, picturing his cock like he’d asked. It felt as close to the real thing as would do, and your clit began to throb as you circled the tip of the toy over it. “Eddie…”

“Slap it against your pussy,” Eddie demanded. “The way I always do with mine.”

You did so, loving the wet sounds that it was making. He moaned as he also heard, and then he was telling you to push it inside to the hilt. You pressed it into your cunt and cried out, feeling so full and stretched out as you clenched instinctively. The toy was as long and thick as Eddie’s cock, but it still could never come close to the real thing. The warmth of his cock, the way it pulsated inside of you as he came, how good it felt when he set on a good pace–no toy could ever replicate that. It was doing a well enough job tonight, but damn, if you didn’t want Eddie terribly right then.

“Eddie, you feel so fucking good,” you breathed, hearing a soft mewl from his end. “I fucking love your cock.”

“Is it the biggest one you’ve ever had?” he asked, smugness in his voice.

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, thrusting the toy deeply and fucking yourself quickly. “I know that I’m probably the tightest, wettest, sweetest pussy you’ve ever had, too, huh?”

“You bet you are,” he said. “Fuck yourself nice and hard, sweetheart. Imagine that it’s my cock, and that I’m just railing you.”

You thrust the dildo further inside, setting a steady rhythm. You brought yourself back to a recent memory with Eddie, one that took place at Reefer Rick’s only days before. The two of you had wanted a change of scenery and a new place to have sex, and settled on that particular location. You were looking for adventurous sex, and oh man, did that happen. Eddie pounded you on the kitchen table, so hard that the damn thing collapsed under your bodies. Neither of you cared in the moment, and Eddie didn’t stop as he threw your legs up to absolutely RUIN your cunt. You moaned hotly at the memory, feeling fresh wetness coming around the dildo as you fucked yourself at the same hard pace that Eddie had in Reefer Rick’s kitchen.

“Let me hear it,” Eddie panted. “Please, fuck, let me hear you fucking yourself on that thing.”

You placed the phone next to your pussy again, just as you had when you were fingering yourself. The dildo sounded much filthier than your fingers had, and the noises that it made only fueled your lust. You began moaning his name repeatedly, and after a couple of minutes, you brought the phone to your ear. Eddie’s breathing was ragged, he was groaning loudly, and you could hear him fucking his fist at a faster speed. He whined, and you mewled as you tightened your pussy around the toy.

“Enjoying yourself, too, huh?” you teased, chuckling around a groan as you positioned the dildo at an angle to slam directly into your g-spot. “I wish you could feel how wet I am because of this, Eddie. It’s going to be a hell of a mess to clean up later.”

“I never thought that I’d be jealous of a goddamn toy,” Eddie joked. “I keep seeing your face as I fuck you, how hot you look on my dick as I do it. My hand is no match, but that image alone is going to make me cum so hard in a second.”

“Can’t wait to hear that,” you said, moaning filthily as the dildo slammed inside of you. “Eddie…”

“Oh God, please,” he begged. “Say my name, baby. Moan it just like that when you cum.”

“Wanna know what I’d love right now?” you asked. “For you to choke me while you fuck me. I love when you use my pussy like it only exists for you. I love feeling you cum inside of me. I love being sore for days because of how hard you fucked me. I need it so damn much right now.”

“Believe me,” he said. “Next time I see you, you’re getting fucked so damn hard. Rub that clit for me as you fuck the dildo. I want you to cum around it.”

You cradled the phone on your shoulder, so that you could use both hands. One thrust the toy as quickly as possible, while the other rubbed hard circles on your clit. Between everything you felt, and listening to everything Eddie was doing on the other end, you came undone rather swiftly. Your orgasm hit hard, and you moaned his name the way he’d wanted as euphoria rained down on you. You made quite a mess as you predicted, the bed below already wet. Your body felt as though it were supercharged, your head swimming in bliss as you contracted around the dildo.

The phone had slipped from your shoulder in the commotion, and you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear Eddie’s own climax. He moaned loudly, hotly, and you couldn’t help but mewl in response. You could just see him right now–head thrown back, dark hair a mess, eyes squeezed shut, cum on his stomach and in his fist, hips bucking into his hand as he came. You whined at the mental image, withdrawing the dilso and feeling so much wetness coming with it. It pooled beneath you, creating an even wetter spot as you tried to move out of it. You were both panting into the phone, trying to regain yourselves, too blissed out to care about much else.

“Take another photo for me,” Eddie said after a moment’s silence.

“Of what?”

“You, licking that toy clean.”

You smirked, and decided to indulge him. You snapped the photo, your tongue licking the underside as you looked into the camera, your tits on full display for him, too. You sat it beside the Polaroid that you took earlier, the one of you fucking yourself on your fingers, before announcing to him that it was done. He chuckled into the phone, before speaking in a sleepy, thick voice.

“Good girl,” he said. “Fuck, that’s my dirty girl.”

“How messy did it get over there?” you asked with a giggle.

“Oh, you know me,” he replied, and it sounded as if he were using a towel to clean himself. “I’m always making a big one. Between both of us, it’s a wonder that we haven't gone through a million mattresses by now.”

You laughed, rolling onto your side. “I love you so much, you crazy bastard.”

“I love you more, you absolute goddess,” Eddie replied. “I’m really glad you woke me up.”

“Oh, so I did wake you up,” you said, amused. “I knew it.”

“I meant from my doze,” he insisted, but you could hear a smile in his voice. “I was just snoozing.”

“Sure,” you said skeptically. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”

“I expect to see those pictures as soon as possible,” he said. “Preferably next time I see you.”

“You know it,” you said, biting your lip. “You have a promise of your own to deliver on, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Filming me touching myself before you fuck me,” you said. “I think we could make a hell of a good sex tape, don’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea the shit I’ve got planned for that,” he said, and you could hear the wicked smirk in his voice. “Give me a few days, and you’ll find out.”

________________ taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @2spock @andvys @eddiemunsn @jamie-fairest @lunatictardis @xbreezymeadowsx @fallinginfinitelyinlove @brighteyedbushybrowed @cailaif @filthy-gorgeous @dammitclaflin @kennyhamter @manicformunson @singledadharrington @mypoisonedvine @escapedtohawkins @eddieharriingtonriington @punkprongs @ches-86 @widowwebs @nanamunath @doomsdaybby @dahliassins @ahoysailorsteve @veryoddsocks @thelittleblackbat @beefybuckrrito

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4

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ravenromanova · 8 months

Text

Kitten

Parings- Natasha x female reader

warnings ⚠️ - SMUT!! mdni! 18+ mommy kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, nicknames (kitten,mommy), Top!Natasha, Bottom!reader

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!

(If this post an the others i post feel a little familiar its because im reposting them from my old account)

your p.o.v

As the sun peaked through the window of the room around me i slowly come to rubbing my eyes. I lay there til my alarm goes off because i always end up waking up before it anyways so i just sit til it goes off. The room is filled by the sound of my alarm as it goes off and i reluctantly turn it off slipping out of my bed. Before i go and get ready for my day i make my bed placing the black and red pillows on top of the black sheets and comforter. After i straighten up my bed i groggly walk into my bathroom doing my routine consisting of brushing my teeth and hair, throwing my hair in a braid, very light makeup and whatever training clothes my eyes land on.

Once im content with how i look i make my way out of my room and walk into the kitchen of the Avengers tower. I make my way over to the fresh pot of coffee that instantly brews more coffee once the old pot is done courtesy of Mr. Anthony Stark. After i finish making my coffee i walk over to the fridge staring in whats in it trying to decide what i want. 5 minutes go by when i suddenly feel two petite hands rest on my waist. As the smirk starts to form on my lips im suddenly overcome by chills as the person whispers into my ear.

"good morning kitten." she says completely taking me aback as my breathe hitches and i turn to face her my hands now in the same place that hers are resting. " good morning to you to Ms widow." i say the smirk growing more and more upon my lips. Me and nat have been together for well over a year but kept it a secret. Its only recently been that we've started to show a little more PDA around the group to kinda ease them into the idea of us being together. Its just been a little hand holding here and there along with sweet kisses on the cheek and maybe some casual sexual remarks as well. But in all honesty no one has asked anything about what is going on with us which is a surprise.

Me and nat just stand in that position for what seems like forever but in reality its been like 5 minutes but thats the affect nat has on me. I swear whenever we are together i forget everything bad ive ever went through. Me and her went through the same thing... the red room. We met in training and we started sparring all the time to the point where we were perfectly in sync. Eventually that lead to us being partnered up together whenever they needed us. Since we were together so much feelings evolved faster than we could understand but thats what happens when you are in captivity with someone for over 2 decades. After nat escaped the red room and joined the avengers she had asked Director Fury to help locate and find me. Natasha tried to find me once she left but she had no luck so she enlisted help from the Director and the Avengers to help her do so. Once they found me and natasha came into the room where i was held she saw me as a shell of the person i once was. What natasha didnt know was that after she escaped the red room they had attempted to find her through me. They did everything in their power to try to get me to give up where she was but i didnt know. They eventually gave up and just used me as a punching bag for whenever they were mad because a mission went south.

But after nat found me and i joined the Avengers i started working on what i had been through and getting through it the best i could nat being the one to really get me through it. All the feelings came back once we started sparring with each other again and one drunken hook up lead to the most amazing relationship me or nat have ever known. It was complete and udder bliss anytime we kissed, our hands touched and dont even get me stated on her eyes her beautiful fucking eyes that i could get lost in forever and just not care.

"kitten?" she said looking at me confused since i just stood there daydreaming "you okay my love?" she questions again as i regain my thoughts.

" yes baby im okay i was just thinking about us and how much i love you and just everything about you" i say gripping her waist a little tighter and bringing her as close as possible before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

" everything you say? how about we ditch training and you show me how much you really love me." she says looking at me with i can only describe as siren eyes. i swear this woman could get me to do anything she wants just by giving me that look. as i stare as her in complete shock at how bold shes being i just shake my head til it almost rolls off my neck and with that she pulls me upstairs to my room.

We make it upstairs and before i can even speak she pushes me onto the bed straddling me her legs on each side of me. She doesnt waste anytime as she tears the clothes from my body and throws them on the floor. Almost instantly she starts attacking my neck leaving all kinds of marks on me not caring if they are able to be seen or not.

" baby please dont tease me." i say breathlessly and i move her hand down to my underwear and directing her hand where i want it to be. Again she wastes no time as she rips off my underwear and spreading my legs and looking in between them with a hungry look in her eyes. She kisses my thighs and leaves marks as i move underneath her in pleasure. She takes her fingers and runs them up and down my core i jump slightly when she does at the feeling of her ice cold fingers. Eventually she attaches her mouth to my most sensitive spot and starts sucking as she adds to fingers in me.

" OH FUCK BABY!" i shout at the suddenness of her actions and i can already feel myself getting to my climax as she keeps going. I grab her hair in my hand and start grinding my hips against her face earning a moan from natasha. she adds a third finger and my insides really go crazy this time as she licks me and keeps pumping in and out of me hitting all the right spots all at once.

" right there baby... d-dont stop please" i manage to choke out in between my already hard breaths.

" you like when i fuck you like this kitten? hmm? you like that huh?" she says coming up to my face as she attacks my neck again while still going in and out of me. i shake my head eagerly

"words kitten use your words or else mommy doesnt know if shes pleasing you the way she should be. so now be a good girl and use that pretty mouth and speak." as she says that i can feel myself getting close to my climax. she has never spoken to me like that and i want her to all the time now.

" yes mommy it feels so good. im so close for you please dont stop." i say basically panting as i try to spit the words out wanting her keep going.

" thats such a good girl using your words for me." she says going back in between my thighs going back to sucking my spot and i grab her hair again bucking my hips as if ive never felt her fuck me before. she starts pumping into me again and i can feel myself clench around her fingers

" oh i can feel you getting close baby. you gonna cum for me? gonna be a good girl?" she asks me as i grip the sheets as tight as possible

" yes baby i-im gon-im gonna c-CUM!" i scream as i reach my climax my back arching as i sit there panting and dripping in sweat. she licks her fingers clean after i finished. she goes to get a towel to clean me up but i put it on the bed and bring her close to me instead

" that was amazing" i say placing a kiss on her lips

" but i thought i was supposed to show YOU how much I loved you." i laugh as i say to the red haired beauty in front of me.

" yea well i couldnt help myself my dominate side took over as soon as i saw you in the kitchen" she says kissing my forehead as i smile

" come on let me clean you up kitten." she says grabbing the towel and cleaning me up. after that i get dressed in clean clothes and we spend the night in our own world.

" i love you (y/n)" she says taking my hand into hers

" i love you more nat" i say cuddling into her.

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on other sites

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #blackwidow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha fanfic #fluff #smut #female reader

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fuxuannie · 10 months

Text

╭₊˚ ๑︰babysitting sigwinne :)

:★: relationship : wriothesley x g-neutral reader

:★: warnings : none! fluff

:★: a/n : saw a pretty mf and took my chances 🦕 disclaimer : i'll be going with the popular hc that hes nearsighted / blind but if what i write is incorrect or innacurate, please let me know & i'll immediately change what i've written! i'm always welcome to constructive criticism especially in areas im unfamiliar with. i talked with a partially blind friend to help me with this huhu.

You really didn't know what to expect when your boyfriend WRIOTHESLEY tells you that he's coming over.

He could be happy, angry, sad, it's just really hard to tell his mood over paper.

But when you hear that doorbell, you walk over to the door and see him standing there but.. there's a child holding his hand? "Hi!" The little bunny girl waved, smiling brightly however when your eyes shift back to your dearest lover - he seems exhausted, almost the verge of passing out.

"Hello!" You reply with a smile, watching Wriothesley let go of her hand, trudge past you and on his way to your very comfortable couch. "What's your name?" You inquired to the little lady. "I'm Sigwinnie, but I know all about you (name)! Mr. Wriothesley talks about you very fondly."

You couldn't help but feel your heart squeeze at the idea of him talking about you so sweetly, you move away from the door to let Sigwinne in and look at her surroundings - familiarizing herself with the home. "So, do you mind telling me why you're here? Since my boyfriend seems just about dead on my couch."

"I can hear you."

"Great! You can answer."

Picking Sigwinne up into one of your arms, you approach the couch and stand infront of him with your free hand on your hip. "So?"

"Tired."

"I'll kick you out. Explain."

You can hear a defeated groan into the couch cushions. "I have to take care of her, but work came up.. I'm really exhausted but I really didn't want to disturb you like this." He mumbles softly, a hand through his hair while sighing.

Already knowing how much your boyfriend works, you were happy to do this for him and Sigwinne seemed to be a very behaved child at heart. "Alright, rest well." You murmur, bowing down to kiss his forehead softly.

. . . . 💐 . . . .

A few hours pass, Wriothesley is awoken by the sounds of giggling in the distance. His eyes take a moment to adjust, rubbing them softly as he yawns. He looks over to the table to what seems to be a bunch of markers and papers, all depicting what seems to be a happy family.

"Shhh! You're gonna wake him up!"

His head turns to what he can remember to be the general location of the kitchen, hearing hushed giggles followed by the sound of cups clanking.

Of course, it doesn't sound like anything that could cause trouble, but he may aswell check what's happening. Due to the fact he has your home layout memorized, he really has no struggle navigating through the furniture and towards the kitchen.

At first the sight is a blur, what seems to be Sigwinne in your arms reaching up for something in your pantry until a little 'Oop!-' escapes your lips when you realize you've been caught.

Wriothesley takes a moment to adjust his eyes, taking a few steps closer until your smile comes into clear view. "Good morning!" You giggled, the girl in your arms waving enthusiastically as a greeting.

Maybe he's yet to properly process anything, but the sight of you and Sigwinne getting along makes his heart melt. It's adorable to see the light peeking from the windows into the scenery of the kitchen and almost illuminating you in his vision.

"Ah- well- um.. Good morning." He murmurs, turning his head away as he feels that oh so familiar warmth on his cheeks. "Are you blushing???"

To shift the topic, "What were both of you doing?" He asks, remembering the giggles and whispering he had heard. "Oh! We wanted to make you tea."

He then feels a tug on his sleeve, looking down at the Sigwinne who had the sweetest smile on her face. "Tea!"

He hovers his hand over the cup and chuckles.

"I prefer my tea hot, this is ice cold. This is one of your drinks, isn't it?"

"Huuuh?! Not fair! How does he always know.." Sigwinne pouted, her ears flopping downwards in defeat.

You ruffle her hair with a smile. "Oh well, we tried."

"You were apart of this?"

"Noooooo..?"

Wriothesley pulled you by the waist and buried his face into your neck, his laughter echoed into your as his breath tickled your neck. "You really are a handful.."

"Are you guys gonna kiss?"

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #gi x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader

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dancingtotuyo · 3 months

Text

Overtime

Joel Miller x F!reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel fight over the remote as adults do.

Warnings/Tags: language, established relationship, handjob (M receiving), some restraint, insinuated that Joel is larger than reader (he can move you around), implied sex, football references, Joel and reader being menaces to eachother

Words: 1165

Notes: Let’s try this again! Tumblr flagged the first one (tumblr you prude!) written for @iamasaddie’s moodboard game! I had so much fun writing this! And seeing everyone else’s creative genius with their moodboards! Huge shoutout to my love and fellow sportsball enthusiast, Angela @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, for letting me talk through stuff and beta reading! And last but not least, @saradika for the divider!

Joel is used to lazy Sunday afternoons on the couch. Typically committing Saturdays for errands and projects, he’s tried to use Sundays as a day to spend time with Sarah, but she’s out of town with her best friend until this evening. Which is how Joel finds himself spread out on the couch, the warm sun pulling through your window on the other side of town.

The tv hums with the voices of the sportscasters over the Cowboys’ game. He can hear you bustling around in your bedroom, two threads keeping him tied to consciousness.

There’s the distinct sound of your footsteps and the channel switching as the broadcaster’s voices change. They’re leading into the late game.

“I was watching that,” Joel says, gruffly.

“You’re sleeping.”

“Am not.” Joel runs a hand over his face, slowly blinking his eyes open. “Just resting my eyes.”

You let out a huff of laughter. “Okay, Dad.”

He eyes your backside as you’re engrossed in the pregame commentary. Dressed in the familiar light blue of your well worn Houston Oilers shirt, a smile spreads across his face. “Is that really what you want to call me?”

You flip him off.

Joel bites back a laugh. He reaches out, pinching your bottom firmly between two fingers. You squeal, spinning to face him. “Joel Miller,” you say, crossing your arms.

“C’mon, Sweetheart. The Oilers left Texas years ago. They ain’t even the Oilers anymore,” he prods, knowing he’ll get a rise out of you. “Turn the Cowboys game back on. It’s almost over.”

“My aligiance is not dependent on the location of my team.” You stick your tongue out. “The cowgirls should’ve put the Giants away by now. Not that you would have noticed.”

“Rude.” He scowls.

“My house, my rules, Miller.”

He lets out a sound that reminds you of a growl and before you have time to tease him about it, his arms are around you, pulling you down to the couch with him. You laugh as his lips press to your neck right where you like it.

Your laughter quickly turns into a soft moan as your head dips against his shoulder. His fingers skirt under the hem of your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach. “You like that baby?”

You nod your head as soft whimpers fall from your lips. Joel chuckles again. His arm slips around your waist, tugging you flush against him.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear, fingertips trailing down your wrist.

If you thought you couldn’t melt anymore, you’re wrong. Something akin to a whine escapes your lips as you turn your head to kiss him. You’re so close to his lips when his slow chuckle turns to a laugh and the tv remote slips from your grasp.

He flips the station back just as the Cowboys are kicking off for overtime. Before you can react, he tosses it across the room, holding you against him.

“You jackass!” You strain against him, trying to break free.

“I’m just trying to finish my game.”

“You barely started it before you passed out.”

“Wasn’t sleepin.” Joel’s voice is still gruff in your ear.

You try to wiggle free, but it’s useless. He knows from more than enough experience how to keep you in one spot.

You get more anxious as the minutes tick by, shifting as you can between his legs.

“They’re about to kick off,” you fuss at him.

“Overtime will be done soon.” He pats your thigh placatingly. “We’ll turn on your Oilers’ game then, or whatever they’re calling themselves now.”

You roll your eyes.“The Titians?” You shift again.

“I know my teams, Sweetheart.” Joel nips at your earlobe, eyes trained ahead. “And quit shiftin.”

You furrow your brow, until it hits you, literally. His cock presses into your back as a slow smirk spreads across your face. “Why? Is this affecting you?”

You rub against him more intentionally this time. His breath grows ragged in your ear. His hands move to your hips, desperate to stop your motions. He’s not going to let you win the game.

Try as he might, he doesn't have the sheer strength to keep you immobile. Your hands drop to his thighs, fingers trailing the inner seam of his jeans.

You glance behind you. Joel refuses to look at you, a slight twitch in his set jaw. You’re not sure he’s actually absorbing the game anymore.

Your hand creeps up, landing between the two of you as you palm his erection.

He lets out a low groan, gripping your wrist. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

You smirk. “Who said I couldn’t?”

He groans, back hitting the couch, but keeps a hold of your non-dominant hand, tethering you to him.

You pop open the button of his jeans and his cock springs free. You raise an eyebrow at him. “This is a new development.”

“Had to make things easier for you.” He winks.

You scoff, tracing a vein with your finger tips. “Such a pretty little cock.”

“Little?” He teases. “Ain’t nothing little here, Sweetheart.”

You spit in your free hand before gripping him. You run a finger over his tip, spreading out the precum that’s begun to leak. Joel’s head hits the couch with a low groan.

Using your tongue and hands, you waste no time working him to the edge. You’re far enough into your relationship to know how to get Joel off with quick efficiency.

His hips thrust up. “Fuck, Just like that, Sweetheart. You know how I like it.”

His eyes are closed, chest heaving with desire. He’s all but forgotten about the heated overtime match playing on the TV.

You could finish him off right here. Two quick moves and you know he’d make a mess right here, but his grip on your wrist loosens just enough for you to slip free.

The moment your warmth is gone, Joel’s eyes open. He’s dazed, looking blissed out on your couch. He makes eye contact with you, and you shoot him a wink before flipping the station once again to your football game.

Joel groans, rising to his feet. Laughter settles in your bones. He’s trying to look menacing, but his features are still clouded in lust and desire.

“That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“Neither was turning off my game in my house.”

He rips the remote from your hands, tossing it to the couch. He grabs your hips, spinning you toward the wall.

Your hands spread out against the dry wall with a thud, breath catching in your throat as heat floods your body. “Suppose I need to teach you a lesson now, Sweetheart.” He drags out the nickname as if there’s nothing sweet about you.

Shivers rush down your spine. You’re not sure how much of a lesson he teaches you, but it’s worth missing the first quarter.

Joel doesn’t know how his game ends until the halftime report and quite frankly, he doesn’t care.

#✏️ game #joel miller #the last of us #Joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x you #pedro pascal #tlou #mature #pedrostories #Pedro stories #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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wardenparker · 21 days

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Surprises, vomiting, anxiety, spectacularly bad decision making, talking of children/pregnancy. Morning sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, consensual choking, light dom/sub play, rough sex. Summary: Your 30th birthday is not at all what you expected. Not at at all. Notes: Beloved darlings, please forgive any errors I might have missed. Ya girl has had another busy week, but at least the sickness has lifted!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

It’s been a perfect, magical day in Marcus’s opinion. Waking up with you and spending the entire day together hasn’t tamed the desire to be with you, it’s only fanned that desire. Now he gets to watch you get ready for the party, stopping by his apartment to pick up a suit, you had both decided that he would change here at the inn with you.

“So, is this place actually a pub or did my mother book something swanky and just lie through her teeth?” You ask, eyes gliding down his frame as you slip into your least worn little black dress for the party. It’s the one you always think is just a little too festive or too vintage, and it always gets swapped out for something more reasonable. Marcus had insisted you wear it when he heard you say ‘too’ anything.

He smirks slightly and debates on whether or not to tell you. “You have to be surprised, but yes.” He chuckles. “I think Round Robin counts as a pub.”

“It is not Round Robin.” It gets a laugh out of you, though, making you snort inelegantly as you struggle to zip your dress. “Their food doesn’t meet Dad’s approval. He’d never okay it.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we are actually going to Statesman.” He admits with a grin, moving over to zip up the back of your dress for you and kissing your shoulder when he’s done.

“Statesman…” In the second it takes you to search your memory for why that name sounds familiar, you light up. “Like The Statesman Club? I’ve always wanted to try that place!”

“Good.” He grins at you and picks up your necklace to help you put it on. “We will try all the fancy whiskeys we want.”

“Well now I just feel positively spoiled.” Partially from the choice of location, but also Marcus being such a gentleman.

“It is your birthday.” He reminds you, sliding the chain around your neck. “You should be spoiled.”

“And when it’s your birthday, you’ll be spoiled too,” you promise him, grinning at his reflection in the mirror.

“We can cross that bridge later.” His hands rest on your shoulders gently. “Tonight is about you.”

"Are you still okay with me telling everyone?" If he's not then you'll keep your soulmate status to yourself tonight, or for however long he wants to keep that particular fact private.

“Of course I am.” He stares at you in the mirror, unable to believe what a lucky bastard he is. “You never need to worry about that.”

"I just thought I should check." You beam at him, turning around in his arms to wrap your own around his neck and kiss him. "Seemed polite to me."

“Shout it from the rooftop and splash it in the Post.” He urges you. “I will happily agree and brag to everyone who asks.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you seriously consider doing just that but figure somebody at The Post will have a field day writing their own little editorial about it when it becomes public knowledge. "I love you, too."

“I love you.” He promises and bites his lip. “Do you want your birthday present now? Or at the party?”

"You didn't have to get me anything." There's no chance he would have listened to you if you had protested beforehand, but you still do. Just having him is gift enough.

He scoffs and lifts a brow, waiting for your real answer.

The burn in your cheeks is enough, and you grin again, unrepentantly. "Is there enough time to do it now?"

“Of course there is.” He promises and pulls out the gift he had put in his jacket pocket. It might be too much too soon, but he couldn’t resist.

The small jewelry box all tied up in ribbon in his hand is unmistakable, but you tilt your head slightly and look up at him curiously. "Really?" A book maybe, or flowers, or even something a little nerdy and sweet – all of those things you would have accepted easily. But jewelry is a very big gesture for a relationship that is so new.

“You said you also jump in quickly and I— well, it’s what I’m thinking.” Marcus hopes you don’t hate it.

You take the little box from him carefully and untie the carefully done ivory ribbon. The hinge of the box is tight, like it's barely been used, and when it snaps open in your fingers you gasp softly at the shining, shimmering ring inside. An eternity ring of sparkling heart-shaped stones set in white gold reflects the light in your room beautifully. "Marcus?"

“It’s a promise ring.” It seems like a childish thing at first, but he wanted you to know how serious he is. “The prelude for what is to come.”

And just like that, your heart swells for him all over again, and the surety that you made the right choice is ingrained in you. "I'll never take it off."

“If it fits.” He jokes, taking the box from you and plucking the ring out of its velvety crevice. “This is my promise to you, my soulmate.” He whispers as he takes your hand. “One day I will marry you. We will build a life together of mutual respect and love. We will be happy and I will always cherish you.”

"Am I allowed to promise you the same thing?" You watch in awe as the band slips easily onto your finger and you flex your fingers to see if it will shake free. When it doesn't, you beam at him all over again. "To promise to love and cherish you and be your partner while we build this relationship?"

“Absolutely.” He smiles softly and leans in to press his lips to yours gently. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.”

"We should go." Even whispering against his lips, you feel giddy and giggly in the moment. "Before I drag you back into bed and make you even more promises."

“Promises, promises.” He teases. “That is for tonight when we are both a little tipsy, very handsy, and more than a little in love with the idea of being together.”

The drive out to The Statesman Club goes easily and quickly, with Agent Bailey following behind you all the way. From the amount of cars in the parking lot it's obvious that your mother had Marcus bring you to the party after everyone had arrived – or if not then there are a huge amount of people coming tonight. "Seems like an awful lot of fuss," you hum, slipping your hand into Marcus's when he opens your door.

“You’re worth the fuss.” He reminds you, helping you out of the car and he can’t help but admire you. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning.”

"That's just because I'm happy," you insist, tugging him toward the front of the building. "And because you look absolutely stunning yourself, so I'm just reflecting it back at you."

He chuckles, knowing that he could argue that but it’s your birthday and he can’t argue with the birthday girl. “Remember, you can’t butter me up anymore.” He jokes. “My bag is already at your place; I’m going home with you.”

"What if I'm just telling the truth?" It's like walking on Cloud 9 as you go hand-in-hand with him up to the front door. There's a desk inside with a woman in all black, and she smiles to see you coming – clearly expecting you but too professional to do more than smile.

Marcus gives his name as if he were the one setting the reservation, but they know where to guide you. “Good evening.” She moves from behind the desk to come out beside you. “My name is Ginger and I will be escorting you inside.”

"Thank you, Ginger." It's all very dramatic, you think, but you still follow the woman around a corner and past the main dining room, up a flight of stairs that is dimly lit to put focus on decades and decades of Statesman ads that ends in a set of double doors. This must be their private function room, because the moment she pushes open the doors, all hell breaks loose.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” Is screamed at you in various pitches and volumes, making you jump slightly even if you had been anticipating it. Marcus laughs, drawing you into the circus of a room as your friends and family press close.

“This is what not overdoing it looks like, huh Mom?” You’re laughing, though, and hug her first out of everybody in the room. You know how impossible it is for her to get to do anything personal already so it’s doubly amazing that she not only put this together but managed to attend.

“Of course it is.” She hugs you fiercely and tears up slightly as she remembers the day you slipped into the world. “It’s small compared to the inauguration party.”

“Which inauguration party?” There were three official ones and then plenty of other unofficial, and you smirk at her even when you pull back. “I can’t believe this place let you book in. It must be crawling with Secret Service.”

“Just a few.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’m the President. It’s time I stop letting the office run my life.”

“Well, thank you.” That resolve won’t last because it can’t, but you’re glad that it is here for tonight.

Your father is next to swoop in for a hug, cooing over his baby being all grown up, and you groan playfully because he gets like this every single time one of you has a birthday. You, Alex, and June all get fussed over equally and it’s actually kind of sweet. Tonight, though, you reach back and take your soulmate’s hand. “You guys remember Marcus?” Of course they do, but you’re still going to be polite about it.

“Sir. Ma’am.” Marcus would offer his hand, but you are currently holding it. “Nice to see you again.”

"Very nice to see you again, Marcus." Having dispensed with Agent Pike except for formalities, the president smiles. "And very punctual. I like that."

“Timing was important tonight.” He agrees, squeezing your hand gently. “The birthday girl needed to be here for the party to really begin.”

"Then let's get this party started." The phrase sounds just as odd and stilted coming out of her mouth as she thought it would, but that doesn't matter. "Make sure you say hi to everyone, Birdie. And try whatever you want to drink. But I think you'll like both cocktails."

Marcus smiles and nods toward the private bar for the party, a fit cowboy with a mustache behind the counter with a toothy smile and a name tag with ‘Jack’ on it. “Shall we go get a drink before you mingle?”

"Absolutely." Whatever your parents have picked out is always good, and you want nothing more than to get the night started.

“What do you want to have?” Marcus asks as he reads the small, personalized cocktail menu that is being served exclusively tonight in addition to the regular drinks.

"The Sour Red sounds good." Cranberry and cherry in a whiskey sour sounds like a great way to start the night.

"It sounds great." A voice from beside you huffs, and you squeal with delight to see your best friend appear out of nowhere next to you. Sydney grins and envelops you into a gigantic hug, as Marcus smirks proudly behind you.

“You look amazing!” The soft, flowing maternity dress is the first of its kind you’ve seen her wear and it looks gorgeous on her, making her look like a work of art. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She insists, shaking her head at you. “Juan said he’s going to treat you to lunch when he comes back, and he’s so sorry.”

“Absolute sap of a man,” you huff, laughing affectionately. Juan really does treat you like a little sister sometimes and it’s very sweet. “He doesn’t have to do that. But…if he really wants to…” you glance back at Marcus with a giddy smile. “Why don’t we plan a double date?”

“That sounds good.” Marcus nods. “What do you think, Sydney?” He’s willing to do whatever you want and having a night with the other couple would be nice.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” She’s already nodding, clutching her ginger ale in one hand and grinning to see the two of you together like this. “That will be awesome.”

“I’ll order the drinks so you ladies can talk?” Marcus orders, squeezing your hand when you nod and moving up to the bartender.

"I don't know if I said it enough, but you did the amazingly last night. The wedding was perfect." You hug her again, always mindful of your growing goddaughter between you. "I owe you."

“It was all thanks to you.” She reminds you with a soft hug. “Looks like you had a good evening after the wedding party left.”

"Maybe." The meager protest has your cheeks on fire immediately, and you bury your face in your hands. "He's...god, Syd, he's absolutely incredible."

“Really?” She lights up, happy that you are so enthralled with your soulmate. “So you had a really good night?”

"I need you to promise me that you're going to react in the most normal way you've ever reacted to anything in your life," you murmur, intentionally lowering your voice and glancing around furtively. "Most boring reaction ever. Promise?"

“Boring – absolutely.” She nods eagerly, aware you’re about to bust unless you spill whatever secret has you positively glowing. “He’s the best you’ve ever had? Hung like a horse?” She guesses playfully.

"Haven't actually had sex yet, but yes to the second." The smirk that breaks over your face is unapologetic, but you clear your throat, and intentionally reach out to hold your best friend's hand with the ring Marcus gifted you a mere hour ago glinting in the club's lighting. "Most normal and boring you've ever been," you remind her quietly.

Her frown when she feels something makes her look down and then her eyes bug out wide, making her look like a cartoon character for a brief moment. The smallest squeak comes out before she buttons up her lip and her entire body seems to vibrate in energy as her gaze darts back up to you.

"It's a promise ring." As quietly as you can when Sydney is practically buzzing out of control, you're still grinning from ear to ear. "I told you he's incredible."

“I can’t believe— okay, I can.” She huffs quietly and as discreetly as she can, she’s looking at the ring. “Honey, it’s beautiful.” She whispers softly, melting and giving Marcus Pike all the brownie points for romance.

"I don't know when he had time to get it," you admit, trying not to bring too much attention to the piece of jewelry and end up having to explain it to a whole room full of people. "We were together all day."

“He must have bought it the day he went golfing with Michael.” Sydney guessed with small, dreamy sigh. “They were talking about Michael’s buying a wedding day gift for Joyce. He was planning on jewelry.”

“That must have been it.” It’s even dreamier, then, in your mind. Because that truly was the very beginning of things.

“He’s got good taste.” She hums in approval. “This is the real deal.”

"It's the first time in my life that I've really felt like I'm on the same page as my partner," you gush to her, right before Marcus comes over with your drinks.

“One Sour Red for you.” Marcus hands you the drink. “And I ordered the Sweet Delight for me so we can also try it.” He has no problem sharing drinks with you.

The second cocktail on the specialties list was something like a cross between a sweet tea and a mint julep, and since you had fully intended on trying both, he seems to have read your mind. "Perfect." Him, the whole day, tonight, all of it.

“Great.” He holds up the Sweet Delight in a toast. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.” He smiles. “May your thirties be the beginning of the greatest adventures of your life.”

"I have a feeling they will be." You hold up your Sour Red and Sydney adds her ginger ale to the coast, making the three of you a very happy trio.

“Now, I don’t want to monopolize your night.” Marcus insists after taking a drink. “I can hold your purse, but you need to talk to people and if you want me to keep Sydney company, I’m good with that.”

"I'm going to use having to find you as an excuse to get out of saying hello when I start to burn out." It looks like your mother has assembled a few dozen people here tonight and you know you're going to need to take a break from all the chit chat at least a couple of times. "Thank you, love."

“Absolutely.” He smiles at you in reassurance. “Just lift your glass and I’ll come rescue you.”

“Okay.” Leaning up, you leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth and whisper an “I love you” before you scoot away.

Marcus watches you walk away with the look of a man completely besotted with his soulmate. “I love you too.” He murmurs after you.

“That didn’t take long at all.” Sydney grins, sipping her soda like she’s won the lottery.

“Too quick?” He glances back at your best friend and wonders if she worries about you jumping in too fast with him despite being your soulmate.

“Not for her.” She chuckles quietly. “Hell, even Juan and I knew within about two days that he was going to come back East with me after we met. It’s just…it’s nice to see someone moving her speed with her. Supporting her at light speed, ya know?”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” He promises Syd with a solemn vow.

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Her smile turns determined and icy. “Because if you do? Juan knows exactly how to make sure no one ever finds your body. And I think you value life too much to risk the wrath of her best friend and her siblings. Don’t underestimate little Junie.”

Marcus doesn’t scoff, nor does he chuckle and brush it off. He takes a sip of his drink and looks at your best friend squarely. “I won’t, and I never piss off the people who cook food.” He tells her. “They have ingenious ways for disposing of a body.”

“She’s been through a lot of shitty relationships.” Sydney confides. She’s glad to see Marcus taking this talk seriously. Sam had laughed and waved her off. “Listen to her, treat her well, and buy her flowers. That girl loves getting flowers.”

“What are her favorites?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you want out of this relationship.

“Camellias, roses, gerber daisies…” Sydney grins. “I’ll text you a list.”

“Please do.” Marcus can do roses anytime, but he wants to give flowers that let you know that he’s just thinking about you. Ones that put a smile on your face. “And her favorite bath soaps and scents.”

“I’ll have a list of favorites and least favorites ready for you tomorrow,” she promises. “But I have a big one for you, first.”

“What’s that?” He knows Sydney likes him, thinks that he will be good for you, so it’s best that he stay on her good side.

"I've never seen her prouder to be out with a partner than she was with you at that State dinner," Sydney tells him honestly. "She gets skittish about the spotlight, but she collected every single paper that had a picture of the two of you. It's..." she smiles, actually, and her eyes find you in the crowd of family and friends around the room. "It's a kind of confidence that is new for her, but I think it's great."

Marcus follows her gaze and his own face softens and he takes on a slightly sappy smile. “I only want to support her and prop her up.” He promises your best friend earnestly. “Whatever she wants to do.”

"She has the career she wants. And now the right partner." Syd flashes a beaming grin. "Next up is the wedding and kids, Pike. I hope you're ready for a deluge of family fun."

“I’ve always wanted kids.” He admits quietly, pushing one hand into a pocket. Taking another sip and his eyes follow you around the room. “Don’t mind a wedding, but I’m more concerned about the life we build rather than the wedding we have.”

"She says she doesn't care about a wedding. That it's the marriage that counts. And she does mean it." More than anything, Sydney needs Marcus to know that this isn't any shallowness on your part, it's something she's observed. "But I see the way she moons over every single bride that comes through the inn. She wants someone to make a fuss over her without her having to ask for it. It's why she's been sighing over this birthday party like it's unnecessary but has been talking about it nonstop. Because she deserves to feel special, but she feels guilty asking for it."

“I want her to have exactly what she wants.” Marcus smiles at the idea. “The fairytale. The happily ever after.”

Nudging Marcus with her elbow, Sydney's cup of happiness is positively overflowing for you in this moment. "I have a good feeling about this."

“I hope so. Because I’m taking her to meet my folks in a few weeks.” He tells her with a grin.

Syd’s jaw drops on a disbelieving laugh. “You got her to take time off work?”

“Is that some kind of minor miracle?” He asks with a slightly proud smirk if it is. “I asked if she wanted to come and she agreed.”

“There’s nothing minor about it.” She cackles with absolute glee, knowing Juan will be just as thrilled as she is. “She hasn’t taken a vacation day in seven years. Not even for campaign events. You’ve just advised sainthood.”

“Jesus.” He whistles quietly and has a renewed admiration for your drive. “Then I’ll make sure that she relaxes and soaks up the sun while we are gone.” He grins. “Texas is the perfect place for it.”

“Perfect.” Syd grins, and holds up her glass to toast him. “Take care of our girl, Marcus. I know you will.”

“Of course I will.” Marcus watches as you discreetly lift your empty glass. “Op,” he grins back at her and lifts his own glass. “Duty calls.”

It's just a little later, while Marcus is deep into conversation with your father about something or other that you didn't quite catch, you're slowly sipping your second drink when the nearby door opens to admit a new arrival.

Sam Chase walks into the pub, straightening his jacket and smiling a bright smile at anyone who turns his way. Looking over the crowd and finding you as he scans and lifting a hand in a wave before moving towards you.

It's a surprise to see him, even if you did say that you wanted to stay friends, but you walk toward him with square shoulders and sure steps. More than ever, you know you made the right decision, and you're mature enough not to say a thing about it and just let things move forward. "Sam." When he moves forward to hug you, you let him just like you would let any other friend. "What a surprise. Are you feeling better?"

"I am." He wouldn't miss tonight for the world, not when he realized what he needed to do. He accepts the hug and squeezes you gently to him, admiring your perfume. He's missed that smell. "Happy birthday, Birdie." He uses your nickname so rarely, preferring your name, but tonight is about showing growth.

"Thank you." You're glad to not see a gift in his hands. It's almost a reprieve because you had feared he might do something overly intimate as a gesture if he did actually come. "There's some fun cocktails but the bar is open, and lots of food being passed around. I think cake is happening in just a little bit."

"That's good." He pulls back and smiles at you. "It's good to see you, I've missed talking to you."

"It's good to see you, too." Unfortunately you can't say you've missed him as much as he seems to have missed you, but the last few weeks have been so important for you. "I'm glad you came." At least that is true.

"I know you are making the rounds, so I will get a drink." Sam knows that he has to show that he is more accepting of your way of doing things and he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. "I will get a drink and then talk to you later?"

"That sounds like a good plan," you nod, motioning toward the bar. "I know you're not a whiskey guy, but they do have some nice wines stocked tonight. And champagne. Mom insisted."

"I'll see you soon." He promises, sure that the champagne is meant for the toasting of your birthday after the cake. You will be thrilled to drink it because of another celebration as well.

Alex and David are nearby and you gravitate toward them naturally, glad for some supportive faces in the sea of comfortable and uncomfortable acquaintances. Your mother had really gone all-out with the guest list.

Despite his own conversation, Marcus has kept an eye on you, frowning slightly when he sees Sam arrive. He’s not jealous, but he knows that it would be uncomfortable to you since you had broken up.

"Well that looked fun," your brother grumbles, putting an arm around your shoulders lazily when you pace over to him and his boyfriend. "Mm," you roll your eyes discreetly. "So fun. It's my own fault for saying I wanted to stay friends. I just thought...it's a very adult thing to do. And he didn't do anything wrong, really."

“He did everything wrong.” Alex snorts, rolling his eyes at you. “You just were so busy making it work you couldn’t see that.”

"You guys could have said something earlier, ya know." Still, you shrug and take a sip of your drink. "Not that it matters now."

“You were happy…ish.” Alex arches a brow at you. “Tell me you would have listened.” He challenges, knowing how stubborn you are.

"Listen to you?" Rolling your eyes dramatically for show, you wave a hand dismissively. "Of course not. Maybe David, but not you."

Both men laugh and David winks at you. “That’s my girl.” He teases.

"Everything will be fine." You're definitely reassuring yourself, not them, but that's okay. "Eat. Drink. Be merry. That's the name of the game tonight."

“Of course it is.” Alex leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “Happy birthday sis.” He hums. “You look happy with your soulmate.”

“As happy as you are with yours.” For everything that Alex and David have gone through together, you know the light at the end of their tunnel is going to be so incredibly bright and wonderful. There isn’t a second of doubt in your mind. “He, um…he’s taking me to Texas in a couple of weeks. To meet his family.”

“Really?” Alex is surprised but he’s quickly grinning as he looks around to find Marcus watching you for a moment. Checking in on you from across the room. “Well slap my ass and call me a cowboy.”

"I'll leave that to David," you reply, snorting at the image. "But yes. Really. And I'm excited, so don't ruin it."

“You better wear a cowboy hat when you ride him.” Alex chuckles quietly and winks at you. “They say everything’s bigger in Texas.”

"I swear to god." Groaning with the ire that only a sister can truly feel, you stick your tongue out at your brother and make a face. "I'm walking away now, but you're ridiculous."

“You know I love you!” He cups one hand around his mouth to call out after you, laughing while his soulmate rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath about sibling relationships.

"Sweetheart," your mother grabs you in passing, seeing that you're headed for Marcus and not wanting to delay you too long. "Cake soon?"

"Sure, Mom." Pausing long enough to squeeze her hand, you nod to indicate you're willing to just go with the flow. The night will last however long it lasts and you're grateful for every second you get to spend with your friends. Thankfully, it seems like cake cutting won't be the very end of the night.

“How is my pretty party girl?” Marcus asks as you draw closer, pulling you to his side and swapping his full drink with your empty one. “You should try this Statesman Blackberry Reserve.” He urges you. “It’s probably the smoothest whiskey I’ve ever had in my life.”

"You trying to get me drunk, Pike?" You tease, accepting the glass and trying a sip – which earns a happy moan from you. "You're already coming home with me. You have stuff at my place."

“But you’re cute when you’re relaxed.” He jokes, smirking slightly considering that you’ve already had a conversation about drunk sex and somnophilia so you are both on the same page about what’s acceptable.

"You're always cute." Relaxed is a good word. You aren't drunk at all. Not even tipsy. But you are definitely relaxed. "Mom's going to have the cake brought out soon. Brace yourself for a deeply embarrassing speech of some kind."

Laughing quietly, he nods. “Of course. Would it not be a family birthday party if there wasn’t an embarrassing speech?”

"In this family?" You snort, barely managing to smother the sound as your mother's voice comes over a microphone so that the whole room can hear her. "Never. But that's my cue."

“Go knock them dead, hummingbird.” He whispers in encouragement and takes your drink from your hand so you can walk up beside her. It’s your night, your time to shine.

As Sydney has pointed out, the spotlight is not necessarily where you thrive. You do step up next to your mother, though, and wave awkwardly with a dopey smile on your face as she talks. The predicted speech is just as embarrassing as you thought it would be, but it’s easier to smile knowing Marcus is out there watching just a few feet away.

Now is the time. Sam watches as you demure to the crowd and duck your head in embarrassment as your mother finishes up your happy birthday speech. He straightens his tie and reaches into his pocket to pull out your gift before he edges towards the front of the room where you and your mother are standing.

Honestly if you had noticed, you might have said something. Or you might have at least looked at him questioningly. But you’re too busy avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes while people applaud a speech about you to realize that Sam has walked right up to where you and your mother are standing.

His entire relationship with you, he had watched you secretly moon over ‘grand gestures’. Sniffling during Hallmark moves or rom coms, smiling like a crazy woman when a proposal happens at your inn. This will be perfect. Your mother arches a brow when he asks for the microphone, but she hands it over anyway. “Good evening everyone, Birdie…” he begins, having carefully written out and rehearsed this speech several times. Preparing for it just as studiously as he would have a political debate.

“Sam…?” Anxiety rises like bile in the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the confusion. What in the hell?

Marcus frowns at the way that Sam turns and kneels in front of you. A collective gasp coming from the crowd pierces his heart and it’s compounded by the way you cover your mouth. Looking just like a scene from a romantic film. His gut churns and confusion and doubt makes the blood start pounding in his ears.

“Get up!” As soon as you can gather your own thoughts to get beyond shock and utter horror, you lurch forward to grab Sam and yank him up off his one stupid knee. “What the hell are you doing?” You hiss, well aware that all eyes are on you but having rocketed past giving a shit out of pure anger.

“I’m making up for my lack of spontaneity, giving you the grand gesture.” Sam smiles proudly and opens the box to show you the elaborate diamond ring that he had bought for you. “I love you, and I want to show you that I am here. You are more important than anything else.”

“Don’t do this.” Even if your voice is low, the shaking of your head is universal, and the few gasps over the opening of the jewelry box are minimally muffled when you reach out and snap the little box closed again immediately. “We broke up. Walk away and return the ring.” The urge to cry and flee is almost overwhelming but you have to make him stop.

“We had a fight, a foolish one.” Sam tells you beseechingly. “One I take complete blame for. But we are so good together. Don’t throw it away because I was too blinded by my pride.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” you tell him flatly, although you do feel bad that you clearly didn’t articulate well enough that the relationship is over and has been for two weeks now. “Please just walk away? I’m not taking you back. Tonight or ever, do you understand?” Even with your heart in your stomach, lurching there like a stone in acid, you can’t bring yourself to be cruel. You’re just desperate to be clear and get it through his head.

Sam frowns and looks around at the people who have started to go from excited to embarrassed for him. “Why?” He asks quietly. “This is what we talked about. What you wanted to plan for? Now you say no?”

“Plans changed. Maybe I changed, I don’t know.” You didn’t. And you know you didn’t. But it seems kinder to say that than to point out that your eyes are opened to how imbalanced your relationship was. “I found my person, Sam. I’m sorry that it isn’t you, but please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“You’re really going to say no?” Sam looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “In front of all these people?” The microphone has been forgotten at his side, the conversation just between the two of you and he glances over to see Marcus Pike walking away in the crowd.

“I don’t even understand why you thought it was okay to ask.” It’s completely ruined the night rather than just being embarrassing, but one thing is obvious: Sam has turned out to be one of those men who won’t back down at the very worst of times. “No. Absolutely not. I’m with someone else and I love him. End of story.” Like the punctuation that ends a sentence, you hold up your hand to show him the ring Marcus put there just hours ago. “You should leave, Sam.”

He feels like he’s going to be sick. Unable to breathe in that second where a ring is produced and he knows if he doesn’t escape, find air, he might have a heart attack or something. It’s happening again. This time it’s even worse than before because it’s his soulmate. Marcus turns and pushes through the crowd. Hauling ass for the nearest exit as discreetly as he can while everyone else watches the romantic gesture ahead of them. Unable to hear anything but the tattoo of his heart beating out of his chest as he disappears out of the bar.

He doesn’t hear the next round of gasps inside as your birthday has turned into a farce. He doesn’t see Sam rage or crumble. He doesn’t stand and bear witness to you declaring your love for your soulmate in front of dozens of people. All he knows is that he has to get away, but he’s barely at the bottom of the stairs when you go barreling after him. “Marcus!” Thank god June saw him moving blindly through the crowd, she had pointed you in the right direction. “Marcus!”

It’s still crisp and cool when the sun goes down, hitting the doors and gasping like a drowning man when the frosty air hits him and after two gulps, he’s lurching for the bushes. He’s not so drunk he’s puking, he’s so emotional he can’t keep down the drinks and appetizers curdling on his stomach.

“Marcus, wait!” You have no idea what set of doors this is, but you saw him go through it, so you go too, almost twisting your ankle in the heels you’re wearing in the process. “Oh my god.” The second you see him, you’re moving again, reaching for his bent frame and trying to soothe him somehow. The best you can think of is cooing his name and rubbing your hand over his broad back gently.

Agent Bailey is hot on your heels, bursting through the door seconds later and on high alert. “I’m fine—” Marcus grunts, twisting away from you as he continues to empty his stomach. “’m fine.” He coughs and retches one more time before he can catch his breath. “Go back— I—I—” he pants out.

“You’re not fine.” In the three seconds you can think straight, you turn around to find Agent Bailey a few feet away. “Can you find us some water?” You ask her, not sure what’s caused Marcus to be so sick but sure that he’s going to feel worse if he can’t rinse his mouth.

It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable leaving you, but after a second, she’s nodding and stepping away while speaking into her earpiece.

“It’s okay, baby…” Whether or not that’s true is yet to be determined, but Marcus is obviously in distress and you’re just trying to soothe him as best you can. “Was it something you drank? Or—or ate?” Or was it my ex-boyfriend ruining the entire fucking night for literally everyone?

Marcus closes his eyes, swallowing down another wave of bile and shakes his head. “No— I—” he can’t even articulate the rambling thoughts in his head right now. He feels like he’s lost again and yet you are standing in front of him. Are you here to give him the ring back?

“It’s okay, don’t talk until you’re ready.” While you still have one hand moving on his back, you just try to keep calm and hopefully help him calm down in the process. “Agent Bailey’s finding you some water and we can sit out here for as long as you need, okay?”

“Why—” he swallows and closes his eyes. “Why are you out here?” His voice is steadier, gaining control over his emotions again. “Your party is inside.”

"You are out here." The question makes no sense to you and you're probably looking at him like he has three heads, but at least that's an honest reaction. "Fuck the party. You're more important."

“No, I’m not.” Marcus opens his eyes, looking up at the stars and he has to know. “Did you say yes?”

A single beat of confusion bleeds away to absolutely seething disbelief and your hand stops moving on his back even though you don't step away. "How can you even think I—" And all at once it melts away as recognition dawns and the despair on his face becomes clear. Teresa. Teresa is why he's asking. Why he's afraid and why he's so anxious that he's throwing up in the bushes behind the building. "Marcus, no. Of course not. I didn't even let him ask the damn question. He's a self-centered moron who didn't take being broken up with well, and more importantly there is the fact that I love you."

“You were with him for a year.” Marcus reminds you, wanting so badly to believe you and yet it’s still just beyond his grasp.

"Lots of people are in relationships for longer than they should be," you reason, trying to keep his eyes even with the heartbreak that is obvious in them. "I love you, Marcus Pike. You're my soulmate, and I would trade every single second that I spent with Sam in a heartbeat if it meant getting to change all those memories to ones that include you."

“I’m sorry.” The apology is automatic, closing his eyes again and biting his lip. “This is— I shouldn’t have come out here. I shouldn’t have left your party.”

"You needed air, and you needed to clear your head." If you turn things around and put yourself in his shoes? You'd be losing it in the bushes, too. Thankfully, that is when Agent Bailey appears with a sealed bottle of water and she hands it off to you silently. "I'm sorry I ever said I wanted to stay friends with that man. Hopefully the fact that Secret Service escorted him off the grounds will get it through his head." Gently, though, you tip your head at Marcus and offer him a smile. "If not, I'm pretty sure that showing him your promise ring and loudly declaring how much I love you to about sixty people has probably done it."

“You did?” Marcus frowns slightly, confused as to when you managed to do that before rushing after him.

"I did." You nod slightly, one hand seeking his cheek to try to offer some kind of comforting touch. "And then I realized you weren't standing next to Sydney anymore, and I bolted after you."

“I—" he leans into the touch more than he realizes. “I can’t believe you did that.” He huffs softly.

"You said I could shout it from the rooftops." The reminder comes with a soft smile, as you see Marcus finally start to calm down a little and grapple with reality. "So I did."

“You have to be pretty pissed off at me.” He rationalizes. “All that talk and I’m puking my guts out when someone proposes to you on your birthday. In front of all your friends and family.”

"Baby, if one of your exes had shown up to your party and proposed, I assure you I also would have lost my shit. If not my dinner." Holding up the water bottle, you don't step away from him for a second. "We can stay out here as long as you need to, we can go back in, or we can go home. Whatever you need."

“You need to go back in.” Marcus tells you quietly. “You can’t just leave. All of those people are here for you.”

"I'm not leaving you." In the long run or the short, that sentence is the same.

“I’m not saying you leave me.” He looks at you again and reaches for the hand that isn’t on his back. “Let’s go back inside.”

"We'll sit and sip some water, and if your stomach is still turning we don't have to eat anything else." There is a more than minor chance that people will come up to you both for the rest of the night to want to talk about your soulmate status, but that can't be avoided.

He sighs softly. “You know why I was throwing up.” He challenges softly. “I was having a moment of extreme anxiety.”

"That doesn't mean you'll want to eat anything else, or that your stomach isn't still unsettled." Thankfully he wasn't panicked enough to drop your clutch, so he still has it in one hand and you take it from him carefully. "Here. I have mints and Tums stashed in here. Do you want one, the other, or both?"

He frowns slightly, unused to being fussed over unless it was his mother. “Both.” He decides. “I think.”

"We can do that." Mint Tums and Altoids are produced from your purse without further ceremony, and you wait until he steadies himself and chews his mints before you open your arms to offer him a hug.

He stares at you for a moment before he accepts the hug and pulls you close. “Are you okay, hummingbird?”

"I'm pissed at that idiot for upsetting you, but I'm okay." If he had said you should just go home, you would have gone with him in a heartbeat. Going back into that party sounds daunting at the very least. "What a fucking idiot. I'm just grateful I managed to catch you before you got too far."

“I just needed some air.” Marcus doesn’t know if he would have left, he hadn’t really been thinking— just reacting.

"If you get overwhelmed or anxious again, do you promise to tell me?" He takes your hand and a step or two toward the door at your side, but that doesn't mean he's totally ready to go in.

“I just—” he knows he owes you an explanation. “It felt like history was repeating itself. This time I was getting a front row seat.” He frowns slightly and looks down at the ring on your finger. “And the only thing that I could think of was how much worse it was because it was my soulmate.”

"You're absolutely entitled to have an anxious reaction to what just happened." With his hand in yours, you give it a squeeze and soothe your other hand over his arm. "Is there something I can do to reassure you? Or is this something that's just going to take time to work through?"

“It was just a flash in the pan thing.” Marcus assures you. “But I’ll talk to my therapist about it. So it doesn’t work into something between us.”

"Okay." He's working on himself, and honestly that might be one of the sexiest things about him. For now, though, you squeeze his hand again and head back into the building. "But if there is something I can do, or if I do something that I don't realize makes you anxious, will you tell me? I never want to make our time together stressful or triggering."

“I promise I will let you know.” He is thankful you understand why he freaked out, instead of just assuming he didn’t trust you. “I’m sorry that your birthday was…interrupted.”

"That is absolutely not your fault." It isn't. At all. And you would hate for him to feel that any of the blame is on his shoulders when it lies squarely with Sam. "Just...people are going to have questions. I did flash the ring, so we're going to have a lot of curiosity."

“I’m assuming this wasn’t the way you wanted to announce your soulmate status?” He asks wryly. “Why did Sam think he could win you over by proposing?”

"I think he thought that if he went for the grand gesture, I would just crumble." You sigh as you walk together, climbing the stairs slowly. "If not for you, I might have. I might have settled, instead of realizing that real love is something much more spectacular. Something worth holding out for."

“I’m glad you didn’t settle.” Marcus admits, looking over at you. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. Forget about me, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” At the top of the stairs you kiss his cheek and hold his hand a little tighter. “Now that I’ve met you, I could never forget about you.”

It’s a little surreal to be a priority, making Marcus flush a little more than he probably would, given that he had just doubted you and been proven spectacularly wrong. He’ll definitely call his therapist on Monday.

“Are you ready?” The doors are right in front of you, but you still check in with him first. “If you’re not, it’s okay. I’ll say good night and we’ll go home. Not questions asked.”

“No, I’m not going to ruin the rest of your night.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get a fresh drink.”

Marcus's stubbornness isn't something you want to start an argument about, but after tonight you're definitely going to take tomorrow very easy. "It's not the night any of us had planned, that's for damn sure."

“I would hope not.” He snorts and his hand squeezes yours again, now feeling guilty about leaving you while you dealt with Sam. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

"You don't need to be, but I appreciate that. He took all of us off guard." With a confirming nod from Marcus, you push the door to the event hall open and come face to face with a room full of guests who are all a flutter. Your mother still has the microphone in her hand but it seems to be off, and she makes her way toward you immediately with a deep frown etched in her features.

“Birdie.” She is almost sighing in relief when she spots you again. “You ran off, almost losing your detail.” She scolds quietly before she softens. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

"I needed some air." The gentle lie covers the fact that you actually went running after Marcus, but no one can blame you for having a big reaction to what happened. "That was insane."

The president gives a very unpresidential snort. “You think?” She huffs. “I cannot believe that man thought proposing after you broke up was a good idea. I mean, I know he had mentioned something when you were still together, but-“ Realizing who she is saying this in front of, she snaps her jaw closed and sends Marcus a polite smile. “Thank you for being with her.”

"It's not exactly how I was going to tell you about the promise ring," you admit, leaning in to Marcus's side when he offers your mother an agreeing nod. As though to say 'of course' without letting her know that it was actually you who was there for him.

“You seem overjoyed to wear it.” She observes, smiling slightly at the way you are leaning into the man beside you. Drawing comfort and offering it at the same time.

"I am." Without hesitation, and with great pride, in fact. "And I apologize in advance, but I'm going to miss a family dinner in a few weeks. Marcus is bringing me to Texas to meet his family."

“Really?” Her eyes widen slightly and shift over to Marcus as she reappraises him through a new lens. This has just change from potential to reality. “Well.” She smiles. “I am sure that they will love you.”

“We’ll make sure all the plans are approved by Agent Bailey, but…” Glancing up at Marcus beside you, your stomach flips and your hearts pounds. As off kilter as tonight has gone, he’s still standing here beside you. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take your detail out to Texas.” Your mother considers, looking at Marcus to see what he thinks. “After all, you will be traveling with a federal agent.” She taps the microphone. “Would be bring your weapon and credential when you fly?” She asks him. Marcus nods immediately. “I always bring them.” He explains. “In case I get called out for a case. I don’t have to fly back to D.C.”

“We’ll be near the Dallas field office anyway,” you offer, having cruised around Marcus’s hometown on Google maps with him over a phone call when he was in London and noting the office as you went.

Your mother glances over at Agent Bailey and within seconds, the agent is joining the three of you. “What do you think, Agent Bailey?” She asks, wanting her professional opinion before she makes her decision.

“I would feel more comfortable if it was me, Ma’am.” Agent Bailey shifts in place, as if apologizing to you with her body language. “I’ll station at the field office and be on call. It’s a middle ground, if you will.”

“Birdie?” Your mother glances over at you to see what you think. “How does that sound?”

“That’s fine with me as long as long as it’s okay with Marcus.” You nod, appreciating your agent’s candor. “I trust Agent Bailey more than some strangers.”

“Whatever is needed for Birdie’s safety.” Marcus agrees. “Although, there’s plenty of room for you at the compound.” He tells Agent Bailey. “There’s no need for you to stay in Dallas. Please. Come stay with us.”

“We’ll coordinate with the Dallas office and make arrangements official.” Agent Bailey assures your small group. “Now…I believe there is a cake to be cut, ma’am?”

“Oh shit.” Marcus’s eyes widen when he realizes that you haven’t even had your cake. “Yeah, sweetheart, you need to have your birthday cake.”

“We got a little distracted from the point of the night, I think.” Still placing the blame for that squarely on one person’s shoulders, you offer your mother a smile anyway. “What do you say we get this party back on track?”

“Are you sure?” She glances back and forth between you and Marcus. “There will be a lot of questions.”

“I know there will be.” And you swallow, wondering if it will overwhelm Marcus and make him second guess choosing you. “But I would rather get ahead of the rumor mill.”

“Then perhaps you should announce your soulmate status.” She offers quietly. “People heard you talk about finding happiness, but they don’t know why you’ve moved on so quickly.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you remind her, just as quietly but feeling a bit childish. That’s what freedom of affection is about. Your choice. “But I will anyway. Because I’m proud of him.”

“What you decide to do is up to you.” She agrees. “I should have had security stop Congressman Chase at the door.”

“Hindsight, Mom.” The best you can do is shrug. “I shouldn’t have said I wanted to stay friends. It’s done now.”

“Yes…” she huffs slightly, knowing that her opinion of the congressman just dropped considerably after his display tonight.

“Why don’t you give me that,” you motion to the microphone in her hand. “And I’ll talk…and you get the cake?”

“That is your decision, Birdie.” She hands you the microphone and Marcus frowns. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to say something.” Taking the microphone from her, you offer Marcus a lopsided smile before you click on the power button. “Are you ready for this?”

“Whenever you are.” It’s still a theory in his mind, not tangible. You don’t have to declare this—him— it’s enough that you want to be with him.

“I love you.” It’s just a soft hum, but you squeeze his hand before you click the microphone on and raise it to your mouth. “I hope everyone enjoyed the floor show,” you joke, bringing people’s attention back to the front of the room.

Marcus would have let go of your hand, to give you the spotlight alone, but you don’t let go. Making him give a soft smile as everyone looks at you and consequentially, him.

"I didn't think it was going to be necessary to make an announcement out of this, but clearly the fact didn't get through some people's heads." Still trying for the joke, you take a look around the room. Family, friends, co-workers and family friends all surround you with attentive expressions. "It's been a little over a month now, since I met Marcus Pike." Squeezing his hand gently, you smile at the man beside you and exhale nervously. Stage fright be damned. He is more important than nerves. "And it gave me a lot to think about. How happy I was with the current state of my life and my relationship, or how I imaged my future. It became fairly clear to me that I didn't want to envision any future for myself that didn't have Marcus playing a starring role. Which makes sense..." Breathe. You can do it. Just breathe. "Considering he's my soulmate."

Marcus gives a small wave and a somewhat lopsided grin that he is completely unaware of how charming it is. Listening to the murmurs and gasps of surprise as he knows that he’s under increased scrutiny.

"I know I've always been outspoken about freedom of affection." There are more murmurs – agreement from your loved ones. "And this is what I'm choosing. I am choosing to love my soulmate, and to start building a future with him. Apparently that was a difficult reality for my ex-boyfriend to swallow, but I hope you'll all join me in having a slice of birthday cake and celebrating love and happiness until they kick us out of this place."

Marcus could not have said it better himself, so he doesn’t speak. He just lifts your joined hands and kisses the back of yours gently.

Clicking off the microphone again, you hand it off to one of the uniformed wait staff and turn around to find a rolling table with a sizeable two-tier cake on it. Your father is there with a smile on his face and the knife ready for you to pick up. One ceremonial cut into the cake gets a cheer from the crowd and then it's Alex's voice that starts everyone singing Happy Birthday just as loudly as possible.

Marcus is happy that the celebration has turned back towards you and not the proposal. Singing along with the chorus of the song, he grins when you duck your head slightly in embarrassment.

"Thank god that's over," you huff with a laugh, as the waiter rolls the cake away to slice it properly and people start to mill about again instead of just staring at you. Or worse, singing at you. There's a dab of frosting on your finger and you suck it into your mouth with curiosity before perking up immediately. "Mm, cream cheese frosting!"

“Cream cheese frosting is your favorite?” He asks curiously, smiling at your obvious delight.

"Cake is my favorite." The grin on your face doesn't even have a hint of irony to it. "But if you made me choose? Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is pretty much the top of the list."

“As it should be.” Marcus snorts and shoots you a grin. “But, have you ever had a chilled, key lime cake with cream cheese frosting on a hot Texas day?”

"Please tell me that's something your family does," you groan happily. "Because that sounds amazing."

“My aunt makes one every time I come home.” He promises. “I’ve already gotten the text from her asking if I would want her to make one. I always say yes, but she still asks.”

"Your aunt is now at the very top of my favorite people list." The grin on your face comes with burning cheeks, and you lean into Marcus's side with a sigh. "After you, of course."

“Until you taste my mom’s strawberry daiquiri pie.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your nose.

"Are we going to eat our way through this visit? Because I am completely ready for that." The small reprieve you've been given from the curiosity of your friends and family has apparently ended, and the first waiter with a tray of plates of cake comes out and Malachi saunters up to grab a slice right after you.

“You’ll work it off.” He promises with a grin at the concierge as he smirks with the cake in his hand. “Malachi, how are you this evening?” He asks with a slight chuckle. “A little drama filled, right?”

“More than a little.” Malachi deftly balances a small dessert plan with a glass of champagne in one hand, but his other reaches out to Marcus. “I guess we’ll be seeing you more around the inn?”

Marcus shakes the man’s hand, sensing that despite his aloof mannerisms, he cares deeply about you and the inn. “I hope that’s alright?”

"If she's happy, I'm happy." The younger man chuckles fondly. "Everybody wants their boss in a good mood, right?"

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees with a grin. “I will try to stay out of your way and keep her in a good mood, what do you say?”

"Sounds like a very good plan." Malachi's eyes spell mischief, just like always, but he cares about you far too much to pretend he isn't genuinely over the moon for you to have finally found the right person to be with.

You huff playfully and Marcus turns his grin towards you. “I have to promise not to distract you from work too much.” He reminds you. “You have an inn to run.”

"Mal says he's happy now," you tease." But he's going to have to run the place for me while we're in Texas. That'll teach him."

“A lover’s getaway already?” His brow shoots up and his lips curl in the same direction. “And here I was thinking that you were taking this slow.”

"Family visit." Though it's technically a correction, it's only a small one. If anything, meeting your soulmate's family is even more important than just a little getaway. "We'll go over everything and I know you'll be just fine. But...yes. A getaway."

“Good.” Malachi sniffs. “You deserve to go somewhere other than Maryland.”

There are other people milling around, wanting to give their best wishes or simply curious to get a closer look at Marcus, and Malachi slips back off into the crowd with a wink and a smile. If this is the rest of the party, you reflect with a glance up at Marcus as you fork up a first bite of cake, that won't be so bad at all.

There are so many people who care about you. Some are just curious and he’s sure that there will be gossip reported on the night, but most everyone who comes up to you genuinely cares. He smiles and shakes hands. Listening to how they know you and saves the information for the next time he sees them. Never leaving your side until he needs to refresh your drink.

By the time the end of the night arrives, you're so grateful to slip away. The fact that you and Marcus have planned a lazy day for tomorrow is deeply necessary. Switching to nonalcoholic drinks after the toast with your cake means neither of you is drunk but you're definitely still tangled around each other after loading the trunk of Marcus's car with various boxes and bags (even though you insisted on no gifts). Good nights are said and Agent Bailey climbs into her car to follow you back to the inn as you and Marcus sigh at finally being alone again in his car.

“I don’t know if that’s the best possible outcome for your birthday, or the worst.” Marcus chuckles, reaching for your hand once he buckled his seatbelt. “Opinions, comments, concerns?”

"Aside from the bit in the middle that I would prefer to never think about again?" You glance up at him beside you and offer him a smile. "Everything else was perfect."

“He was desperate.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “I know why. You are amazing and he’s lost you.” He wonders what he would have done if you had chosen him, if it had been him in Sam’s shoes. He’s let everyone else go, but it’s different now. You are his soulmate.

“Nobody ever treated me like I was ‘amazing’ ,” you tell him honestly, sitting back in your seat when he starts his car up. “Or maybe that’s part of what being a soulmate is. A shared definition of how to treat someone well.”

He doesn’t like the idea that no one has treated you like you deserve, frowning slightly. “Well, the moment I don’t, you just correct me.”

“Same goes for you, you know.” Your hand works its way into his over the gear shift to stay tangled in him even while he drives.

“I don’t think you will be a problem, sweetheart.” He smiles as he glances over at you and then back at the road to the rearview mirror. “Agent Bailey staying again? Or is someone else taking over?”

"Agent Sisson should be at the inn when we get there." His grace and understanding in regards to your security detail is deeply appreciated. You really can't say how much. "It was nice of you to offer for her to stay on the compound when we go see your parents."

“There’s always people coming and going, family and friends. It will make her feel better and maybe she will enjoy herself too.” Marcus rationalizes. “There’s plenty of room. No need for a boring hotel.”

"It will be a nice change," you agree. The darkened streets of Washington DC are lit to blazing with artificial light but it's still fairly quiet for a Saturday night. "I feel bad that there aren't more places for her to hang out at my apartment."

“I would offer my apartment, the second bedroom is my office and across the entire living room from my bedroom.” Marcus chuckles.

"We'll have to split the difference sometimes. Use both places." Tilting your head, you flash him a cheeky grin as he drives. "Until we start building, of course."

“Honestly, whatever is easier for you.” Marcus isn’t about to sleep without you if he can manage it. “I do not mind your apartment at all.”

"We'll see what works best for us. I'm sure there will be days when it will be easier for you to be closer to the office or days when I need to be close to the inn just in case." His flexibility is such a boon, and you squeeze his hand gently. "As long as I get to sleep next to you, we'll make it work."

“That was my thoughts exactly.” Marcus chuckles quietly, amazed at how the two of you just fit together. He had always heard of it, been envious of it on a subconscious level, but now he’s basking in this newfound joy.

"I hope you already told your parents you're bringing me," you laugh softly. "Because I told a lot of people tonight."

“I’m sure there will be something about in a gossip column tomorrow.” He has accepted that, has no issue with it as long as he gets to have you. It’s a requirement of it, to be public. He’s got nothing to hide anyway. He’s used to it from his own childhood. “I’ve told them.” He promises.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me what your Dad does.” It’s an open question but a good one, especially where it keeps your mind from idling on the fact that at this time last night, Marcus was fingering you in your bathtub and promising to do more tonight.

His brow shoots up and he almost laughs, but you are asking the question seriously. “Oh, he’s retired now.” Marcus promises, grinning slightly.

“Oh?” That’s surprising, though you’re not sure why. Maybe just because you hadn’t been expecting it. “Is he much older than your mother? Or…I don’t know…military? They retire early sometimes, don’t they?”

He does chuckle now and he stops at the red light. “Birdie, my dad is Matthew Pike.” He wonders if you might not have heard of him during his active years in the MLB. “Nicknamed Stryker for the number of strikeouts he would average throwing a game.”

The silence in the car is deafening for the few seconds it takes your mind to catch up with what he’s saying and for your jaw to come up off the floor, but when you can finally think again the first thing out of your mouth is: “No fucking way!”

Marcus belly laughs this time, squeezing your hand and glancing over at you before the light changes and he starts to drive again. “Fucking way.” He promises.

“Wait…” Rolling back through all of the assorted baseball facts in your mind, you somehow manage to come up with just a few Matthew Pike tidbits and get excited all over again. “So you’re not originally from Texas then!” You exclaim, fully shifting into fan girl mode. “He was playing for the Cardinals when you were born, wasn’t he?”

“Cardinals and then he was with Montreal, the Yankees, then Texas.” Marcus nods, grinning at the sheer happiness in your voice.

“I always thought it would have been so cool to live all over like that when I was a kid.” At the time it had never occurred to you that things like having Sydney come with you would have been impossible, it just sounded neat. “That’s the absolute coolest bomb you ever could have dropped on me and I’m so jealous.”

Marcus laughs. “Well, after dad retired, he bought the land out in Texas – no, he already started buying it during his time with Texas – and we made it the ‘Pike compound’.” He snorts. “Kind of like the Kennedy Compound, but not on Cape Cod.”

“There is no room for a family compound in Philly.” The very idea of it makes you laugh, and you grin at him. “Well now I extra can’t wait to meet your parents.”

“Oh….its tradition, by the way.” Marcus tosses you a smirk. “We play at least one game of baseball when we are home.”

“No fucking way.” This time there is awe in your voice and your eyes are wide with giddy excitement. “You have the absolute coolest family, you know that, right?”

“You say that now.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’ve never heard the trash talking the Pike family doles out when playing sports.”

“Don’t care,” you tell him with confidence. “It’s still awesome. Your family is awesome.”

“I think so.” He agrees, happy that his family tradition doesn’t seem weird or lame to you. It had started as a way for the cousins and brothers and sisters to play baseball with the famous MLB star and turned into a tradition that everyone could enjoy, even if they were watching from the seats.

“It’s going to be a blast.” The absolute confidence in your voice won’t hear of anything different. Texas is going to be a fantastic trip.

“They are going to love you.” He promises with a small laugh. “Expect a million questions though.”

“I’m fine with that,” you promise him steadily. “As long as your dad doesn’t mind me fangirling just a tiny bit.”

He smirks. “There’s been a change in his retirement, by the way.” He tells you. “He’s been signed to be the pitching coach for the Rangers. So you can pick his brain.”

“Ok, so fangirling a lot.” Both of you laugh, enjoying the easiness and eagerness of it.

“At least you know you won’t be roped into awkward conversations. You just mention something about baseball and it will become a family topic quick.” Marcus warns.

“Got it.” You hum. He takes the exit for Alexandria and you look over at his profile. “Speaking of which? You’re now invited to family dinners.”

“I am?” Marcus lifts a brow in surprise. “When did that happen?”

“Right before we left the party.” A bit of your lip comes with hoping he doesn’t feel intimidated by where those dinners are. “Mom said there’s no pressure, but you’re welcome.”

“I would be honored to attended….when I can.” Even though it’s an extreme honor, he still had commitments to his job that sometimes cannot be shifted. “I will promise that I’ll come to as many as I can.”

“Work always comes first.” Everyone in your family can understand and agree to that, which is something that helps you breathe more deeply. “David has a standing invitation, too. But his boss has him working Friday nights right now.”

“That’s not fun.” Marcus sends you a small smile. “I better brush up on my small talk.”

“Brush up on American history.” That’s your best advice, but you’re ecstatic he even wants to think about it. “The more obscure the better. When we run out of things to talk about, Mom starts quizzing us on the weird stuff.”

“Play online Jeopardy trivia.” Marcus snorts. “Got it.”

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, baby,” you hum with a laugh.

“You laugh, but mom love Jeopardy.” He huffs playfully. “She wanted to go on the celebrity edition when dad was invited. She was pissed that he turned it down.”

“Our mothers will have at least one thing to bond over, then.” The idea is sweet, actually, and you grin. “If we ever lose them, we’ll find them yelling answers at Jeopardy together.”

“I will be very intrigued to find out how they like each other.” Marcus admits as he turns into the driveway for the inn. “I think we will be in trouble.”

“Maybe.” It makes you smile, though, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be home again. “But I think it will be a good kind of trouble.”

The plans for the super special birthday sex had been unanimously voted against once you were back at the inn. Marcus wouldn’t have said a word, but you were the one to broach the subject and admitted that you just wanted to fall asleep in his arms, emotionally drained from the tumultuous events of the evening. He feels guilty, he really does, but he had also been relieved, although stirring now with you still asleep is a moment he can treasure.

Yesterday you had been the one to watch him fondly, tracing the sunlight on his features and letting you savor the sight of him beside you. The morning after your birthday is the opposite. Marcus watches you dream as the sun rises higher overhead. If you knew, you might be slightly embarrassed about the spot of drool on your pillow, but as it is you’re having dreams far too wonderful to care.

You sleep with your mouth open and it’s cute. Marcus smiles as he brushes his fingers over your skin gently, listening to soft sigh that comes from you as you curl further into him.

In your dreams, he’s already curled around you. Which probably accounts for the soft moan you breathe deep inside your sleep.

“Sweetheart?” Marcus nuzzles his nose against your cheek and smiles when your brow furrows gently.

The sound of his voice in the waking world pulls you out of it, and even though you hum softly in protest of waking up, you shift to snuggle closer to him in bed.

He hums softly, running his hand up and down your back. “You can still sleep, I just want to know if I can touch you.”

“Mmmmm.” Stretching like a contented kitten, you manage to crack one eye open and smile at him sleepily. “I wanna be awake for that, though.”

“You could always wake up to it.” He chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss.

The warm blanket of his affection is far more powerful than the comforter covering both of you, and you’re simultaneously annoyed that he’ll have to strip you out of your nightgown and lazily eager to see if he just doesn’t bother. Moaning softly against his lips, you shift ever closer. “I’m yours.”

You are his. His heart stutters and he hums against your lips. Moving the kiss down your jaw, he shuffles his hips down to start sliding down under the sheets.

There’s a surreal quality to it, like you’re still dreaming even when you know you aren’t. But the morning glow settling over everything is so much better than your dreams had been. It’s like you’re floating on a cloud, and the only thing anchoring you to the ground or any kind of reality is just Marcus.

Your nightgown is between you, but he doesn’t view it as hinderance. Too busy nuzzling you through it as he kisses down your chest and pulls down the collar of the gown over one breast.

The bowing arch of your back into his touch is so natural that you barely notice that you’re chasing his mouth rather than his hands. It’s just your body singing insistently for more when he’s barely getting started.

You respond so easily to him, your warm skin heating up even more as he mouths and kisses the skin around your breast until he finally latches on to your nipple lazily, grabbing against your sweet smelling skin. Your breathy sigh is pitched up, and the leisurely curl of your arms around his shoulders holds him in close to you to encourage him to explore any and all parts of you. Sensitive nipples have always been a boon as far as arousal goes, but Marcus’s magic tongue is nothing to discount.

Listening to your sweet sighs is something he can do forever. Licking and sucking gently, combined with the a sometimes sharp nip of his teeth, builds a tension that vibrates beneath the surface of your body.

Your fingers comb through his hair as you drift on a cloud that keeps you somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Every atom in your body is fully aware and aroused but the sweet dream of this morning makes it still feel like a dream. Holding him close to your chest as he explores to his heart’s content has you squeezing your thighs together already, the buzzing arousal feeling thick and sticky at the apex of your thighs.

"So sweet, perfect." Marcus praises softly between suckles. His hands sliding under your gown to stroke your hip. "You taste perfect, my love."

The happy buzz vibrating right under your skin makes you giggle at that as you squirm underneath him. “And you haven’t even tasted the best part yet.”

“Hmmmm, I’m going to get there.” Marcus promises. “This isn’t a race. I could spend alllll day discovering your body with my tongue and hands before I even use my cock.”

A moan of agreement parts your lips and you end up grinning as he mouths at your skin, nipping and licking everywhere he pleases. “The flea market will still be there next weekend.”

“Maybe we should get out of bed then.” He pauses, head under the sheet and waits for you to squirm. “Right? We can’t miss the flea market.”

“Are you serious?” He’s probably not, but you still lift the sheet to look him in the eyes. If he actually wants to stop, then of course you will. But you have a feel he’s just being a tease again.

He smirks, and looks up at you innocently while sticking his tongue out to trace around your areola. "What do you think?" He hums.

“I’m not going to pressuring you into anything,” you qualify, although he basically has you whining. “But I am gonna have to take care of myself in the shower if you want to stop.”

"That would be a horrible precedent to set in our first weekend together." Marcus flicks his tongue over your aching nipple and then hums when you gasp out as his teeth scrap over it. "Don't you think? We've already postponed this too many times."

It’s almost too much to bear, the way he teases with words and touches and kisses all at once, but you manage to huff at him. “If I drown you when you get down there, it’s only because I’ve been thinking about this every waking second for weeks.”

“Worth it.” He promises with a grin. “It had been so hard not to jerk off thinking about you while I was in London. Especially knowing you were all soft, wet and sweet smelling from your baths with me.”

“Do you know how many times I almost got myself off in those damn baths?” Your soft groan is almost agonized. “I should have. Just moaned into the phone and let you know how badly I want you.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches against the bed, trapped there as he continues to work his way down. “I wouldn’t have minded.” He admits. “Listening to your orgasm and imagining how you look.” He bites his lip. “You look gorgeous.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” He kisses further down your torso and you hum in approval. “Can’t wait to see how wrecked you look when you cum in me.”

“I had a screening while I was in London.” Marcus admits quietly. “After Vanessa broke up with me. I always do after a relationship ends. Just in case.”

“I do too.” A little bit of a sheepish laugh follows. “Turns out it’s really easy to get good healthcare when your Mom is President.”

Marcus chuckles against your belly button before kissing it. “I bet.” He hums. “No one needs a leaked doctor office visit where the First Princess has an STI.”

“I only like that nickname because it came from the night with you,” you confess, fingers running through his short fair fondly. “I hope you know that.”

“So how about I just call you Princess?” Marcus’s voice drops about two octaves and he smirks at you wickedly.

“As long as I’m your princess.” Although, your sigh immediately gives away what that tone in his voice fires to you.

“Is there any other kind of Princess you would be?” He sends you a wink as he trails his tongue over your hip.

“Not anymore.” Your head falls back on your pillow in relief at that fact, and you fling off the sheet to get to watch him. “Not now that I have you.”

Pleasure races down his spine and he shuffles slightly lower. “I am yours.”

“Glad we—” The moan that cuts off your thought when you feel Marcus’s breath at the apex of your open thighs is deep and curls up from your toes. “Agree.”

He chuckles and doesn’t hesitate to use his fingers to spread your lips apart and he coos as he gets the first good look at your weeping sex. “So pretty.” He praises before he decides the best way to taste you is to slowly drag his tongue along your soaked slit.

“Oh fuck.” Even when you were expecting it, the delicate touch has your eyelids fluttering shut and your chest heaving. Your curse sounds like the most beautiful praise to his ears, moaning at that and the silky, tangy taste of your cunt. Letting his tongue slowly flick along your folds and go where the natural curves of your lips take him. “Never going out again,” you vow, letting a breathy whine vibrate on your tongue.

Marcus chuckles into your folds, keeping pressure on the most sensitive parts of you as he explores. He’s meticulous. Once he’s set himself to the task of learning you, absolutely nothing can or will possibly drag him away. The more you squirm, the firmer his hold becomes. But the more you pant and moan and coo his name into the morning light? Marcus is eager.

The sheet being pulled away allows him to watch you. Enjoying the way you writhe and squirm under his touch. Humming against your skin as you whimper his name prettily.

There's no possible explanation beyond Marcus having a three-foot-long tongue, because the way he feels like he's everywhere at once is the most beautiful kind of overwhelming. There's a solid chance he's just been licking into you and sucking at your clit for hours from how boneless you are, but the first tightening of the knotted arousal at the bottom of your spine heralding the first orgasm of the day reminds you just how quickly he's actually gotten here. You only feel like you've been on this cloud of ecstasy for forever.

Marcus feels your thighs starts to tense around his head. Tightening his grip of your hips as he continues to overwhelm you gently.

“Baby—” Breathless gasps begin to take over as your whole body seems to tighten in response to the mounting pleasure. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

He doesn’t dare pull away, not wanting to give you a seconds break from the flick of his tongue. Groaning into you and coaxing you to cum for him.

Marcus’s name is a chant on your lips as you fall apart, tipping off the peak of the mountain of pleasure and swan diving down into the swimming ecstasy that Marcus is drawing out of you with lips and teeth and hands.

Your breathless cry of his name is followed by the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen. Your back arches, eyes closed, one hand tangled into his hair and the other gripping the sheets. It’s beautiful and erotic, a pure work of live art that is priceless to him.

For a few seconds after it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and then you sink back into the mattress with a sigh. You still have one hand in his hair and it rubs gently, begging him to climb up your body so you can kiss him.

It takes a few minutes, Marcus liking to be thorough when he is working a woman down from her high. Kissing the swollen skin gently before his mouth starts a slow journey back up to yours. By the time he gets up to your lips you’re practically whining for that kiss, happily letting him sink down on top of you when he gets there. His body covers yours perfect, fitting into every grove like he was made for you – because he was. His lips molding to yours in a soft yet sensuous kiss that consumes both of you in the growing morning light.

The valley between your thighs is the perfect place for him to rest, and you cradle him against your body as easily as if you were welcoming him home. What they say about intimacy between soulmates seems to be abundantly clear to you in this moment — it really is the deepest feeling of connection you’ve ever had.

Marcus revels in the feel, sliding his tongue against yours and he pushes his arms under yours to hold you close. It’s almost lazy, the way you sink against each other, but Marcus’s cock trapped between your bodies isn’t going to let either of you get distracted from the wonderful the track that you’re on.

His knuckles brush your cheek and when he finally pulls away, he’s grinning at you. “Good morning.”

"Cheeky," you hum at him, although you're grinning too. "Making me cum that hard and then acting all cute and innocent."

“That was hard?” He tilts his head and smirks slightly, teasing you. “I thought that was a good place to start.”

"Marcus Reid Pike." Eyeing him with a skeptical huff, you ruffle his hair again and end up laughing. "I'm all for that. Just give me a second to recover."

He laughs, coming back down to smother you in affectionate kisses to hear you squeal. “No recovery time!” He commands playfully.

"Such a demanding lover!" You faux-scold, laughing and clinging to him as you squeal and squirm in his arms. Marcus laughs like an evil villain and rocks his hips, grinding his cock against your mound.

"Fuck." It earns him a whimper from your lips, your whole body lighting up all over again at the contact.The playfulness ebbs away and is replaced by a moment of silent desire passing through both of you. Leaning in again, his lips press against yours once more. When you shift this time, your feet are flat on the bed and your knees end up bracketing his hips, encouraging him closer and letting him rest in the cradle of your thighs.

“Ready for more?” He hums, ducking his head to kiss your pulse. “I thought my little Hummingbird needed to recover?”

"I have reconsidered," you inform him, with the air of someone making a very serious and important political decision. "And instead insist on more."

“Ahhhh.” He pops his head up and makes a very loft expression appear on his own face as his hips tilt back and the head of his cock catches on your slick entrance. “A wise choice.” He rasps out, pushing forward to start breaking you open. “Princess.”

Your own noise is best described as a whine, somewhere in between a sharp gasp and a plaintive begging for as much as he's willing to give you. Your legs find their way up higher on his hips to invite him to bury himself in your heat, and even though you were just kissing him seconds ago, you swear he's managed to find a way to loom over you with the perfect expression of desire on his face.

You are exquisite, perfect. Marcus can’t even find enough words to describe how the moment he slides into you wraps around his heart and imprints into his soul. The same soul that is fused with yours. He’s always heard that you feel so much deeper with your soulmate and he’s happy to learn that it’s true.

For a few long seconds, the two of you are content to adjust to each other. No sharp, awkward movements. No wiggling or shifting. The angle is already perfect and Marcus is fully seated inside your body without a single moment of hesitation or difficulty. There’s just a feeling of coming home that you’re basking in until he starts to move.

Starting slow is the only way to do this. Not because he’s afraid of hurting you, but because he doesn’t want to leave you. Feeling like he just stay buried inside your honeyed walls and be perfectly content. The first time he draws his hips back, a low groan falls from his lips. Your real name following that.

There are octaves of difference in your responses. Where Marcus’s groan comes from somewhere deep in his soul, your high whine of pleasure is its own ethereal sound. Once those sounds break free, it seems like a release cord has been pulled — and every pleasurable sound, pure of encouragement, and moan of praise is sure to come tumbling out after it.

It’s never been like this. Never reached into his body and tugged at his soul like this. He should feel guilty but he can’t. Not when every slow thrust is met with an eagerness that shows your own enthusiasm.

Each thrust from Marcus comes with a lift or a roll of your hips, meeting him at the center of the movement to create an exquisite rhythm between the two of you. It's the ebb and flow of the ocean between your bodies as the pace increases and the warmth of the sun heats your skin even further.

It’s beautiful, but he can tell that it’s not enough. Your fingernails dig into his skin, only to release a second later as if you are afraid of marking him. Your body asking for more than the gentle lovemaking. “Let me-“ Marcus kisses you again. “Do you want to try a different position?”

With his cock buried to the hilt inside you like it is, he could probably suggest murder and you'd agree with breathless enthusiasm. "Anything," you nod emphatically and soothe the light fingernail marks you accidentally left on his shoulder.

“Let me know if you don’t like something, Princess.” Marcus murmurs seriously. “This is about both of us.”

"I promise." Right now all you care about is that he doesn't leave the heat of your little cocoon for too long, but you're willing to try just about anything once.

Marcus pulls back and he tries to shift without pulling out of you. Almost succeeding, but smirking slightly when you whimper as his cock falls out. Pushing his legs under your hips, he lifts your left leg onto his shoulder and shimmy’s closer.

There's no thrusting in this position, but as Marcus slides inside you again he leans back the intensity of just grinding against each other makes you moan out and reach to grip Marcus's ankle by your head. He loves how deep he feels, how your walls simply flutter around him. “So good baby.” Marcus groans. “How does it feel?”

"So good baby." Echoing him with a whimper, the hand of yours that isn't clinging to him is somewhere between fisting the sheets and exploring your own body while his hips grind into yours. "You like watching me writhe, gorgeous?"

“Yes.” The word falls like a prayer from his lips, breathless as he watches you. His heart galloping like he’s running a marathon and he can only hope that it’s half as good for you.

"You wanna see me touch myself?" The angle is perfect for it. For him to watch you on your back as he rolls his hips against yours and makes both of you shudder in response. Your free hand squeezes mercilessly at one of your tits, pawing it and twisting the nipple with enough force to make you moan sharply.

“Show me what you like.” Marcus growls out the order, his cock pulsing violently inside your walls as his body responds to the idea.

Anchoring yourself to him was like clinging to life when he first slid inside you in this position, but now you can take your hand away and put it to much better use rubbing decisive, tight circles around your clit to give Marcus a gorgeous show of you indulging in your own body at the same time he fucks you.

His eyes keep roaming. Taking in your hand squeezing and manipulating your breast, the tight circles you rub around your clit. All finding it to be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen as his cock grinds into you. The end of the shaft the only part of it he can see.

Watching Marcus practically salivate over the sight of you is worth not being able to kiss him in this position. Every time he lifts his hips his cock scrubs against your g-spot and your back arches just a little bit more, rocketing you straight toward the second orgasm of the morning.

“That how you like it baby?” Marcus groans when you clench down around him, providing the perfect pressure. “What else do you like? Tell me. Want to give it to you.”

“Want you to — oh fuck — fucking wreck me.” What started out as beautiful, slow, sensual lovemaking has quickly picked up speed and intensity. Like something inside the two of you just released out of nowhere. “Claim me.”

“Fuck” Marcus growls from the very pit of his stomach and he manages to push to his knees by folding them under and looming over you. “You want it rough?”

Simply knowing the man is broad doesn’t do justice to the way he looms over you now. There is power in his strength and yet a deep confidence that he would never, never hurt you. You know Marcus can be gentle and sensual — but you also want to see what it’s like when he’s rough. “Absolutely.”

Your leg is up on his shoulder so when he lunges forward, it’s pressed back to your body. Trapped between the two of you and pinning your hand so you can’t move it from your clit. His hand slaps the side of your thigh sharply and he replaces the hand on your tit with his own, the next thrust more of a sharp snap of his hips.

Permission seems to be all he needed, having no issue taking charge or throwing some power into his thrusts. It pushes you up the bed and has you moaning out all over again. If you had neighbors, they would definitely be complaining. Instead, you just make a mental note to get an extra treat for your agents in apology for how much of this they’re going to start hearing.

“Tell me what else you want.” He demands through gritted teeth and he slides one hand up to rest on the hollow of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze. “This?”

The whimper he earns from you with that suggestion is almost pitiable, but having one of your favorite things to watch in porn that you've never tried before just offered to you – it makes you impossibly wetter and that impending orgasm come even closer. "I – fuck – please?" You beg, knowing you sound pitiful but not caring in the least.

“Hold onto my hand Princess.” Marcus orders roughly. “Squeeze twice quickly if you need me to stop.” He knows that it’s hard to talk sometimes and he wants you to be safe. If this is the kind of experience you want sometimes, you will need to discuss safe words and other safety precautions. Later.

It's possibly the most obedient you've ever been in your life and you put your hand over his wrist and squeeze it twice quickly to show him that you understand. "Like that. I love you, baby."

“I love you too.” He grunts, snapping his hips forward as he squeezes your windpipe for the first time. It’s not hard, but it’s firm enough to cut your air intake in half.

If he was worried even for a second that this might be going out on a limb or that you agreed to it just because you thought it would please him, that worry slides away instantly. As soon as he squeezes, your eyes rolls back in pleasure and your cunt squeezes his cock tight, flooding him with another rush of arousal.

“Holy shit, holy shit. You like that?” He groans, squeezing a little harder. “Yeah you do.” He hisses. “Open your mouth for me, Princess.”

You really fucking do like it, and the instinct for obedience it seems to ingrain in you has you opening your mouth immediately.

It’s a testament to his core training that he can take his other hand off the bed. Holding himself up as he presses his thumb to your tongue and hooks your jaw open even more as he continues to pound into you. “Suck.” He growls.

It might be the single sexiest thing you've ever seen. The way he practically blocks out the sun with the bulk of him and narrows down your entire world to only him feels incredible. Just swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking it deeper into your mouth has you all the way to the edge of pleasure; but it's when Marcus growls again that you completely lose control, cumming so hard you feel like the world has gone white at the edges.

His blood pressure shoots through the roof and he’s pretty sure that you’ve just soaked the bed underneath you in the most intense orgasm he’s ever witnessed. Panting out your name as he continues to rock into you at an unhinged pace to intensify the pleasure.

If you could you’d beg him to join you. Moan praise and encouragements and tell him with complete honesty how incredibly well he’s fucking you. But being at his mercy like this means your best option is putting all your focus into lavishing the digit in your mouth in attention and bearing down on his cock in earnest any time he’s inside you.

“Fuck baby, fuck baby.” Marcus can’t keep up the growling when he feels like shouting at how hard you are squeezing him. “Gonna cum, gonna – fuck, fill up that little pussy.” He hisses, his hips stutter for a few thrusts before he is burying himself deep.

You practically have to catch him when he falls over the edge after you, just making sure that he doesn’t collapse in such a way that your heads knock together or he accidentally puts too much weight toward the one side of the bed you’ve ended up closer to. You let go of his wrist when his grip on your throat loosens, letting him slump into your body and wrapping that arm around his shoulders to hold him close as he rides out his orgasm.

It’s the most intense feeling Marcus has ever felt in his life. Bigger than any rush of adrenaline or dose of serotonin. For one heart stopping moment, he’s almost afraid that he’s had a heart attack. Body shaking with pleasure as he pours himself into you completely. It’s as if your bodies, as well as your souls, merge.

You dust soft kisses on his cheeks and along his jaw, reveling in the feeling of being completely full of him while he catches his breath.

“How are you feeling?” When he can think, Marcus pulls back to start checking in with you. His hand softening in its touch and he caresses your throat gently. He hadn’t been too rough, but he likes to make a fuss, especially when sex takes a turn like it did this morning.

“Fantastic.” You admit with only a hint of sheepishness in the way you smile at him and your hands caress his back and shoulders. “You?”

“Amazing.” He assures you softly. “Anything you didn’t quite like? Wanted more of?”

“I didn’t want to stop in the middle and ask how you felt about biting or scratching,” you admit. It feels silly to say since he paused to check in with you about getting rough, but you’re being honest. “And…I think we should talk about safe words?”

“We should.” Marcus agrees. “Expectations and needs are important to address as well.”

“I didn’t anticipate rough morning sex the first time,” you giggle, brushing sweat-matted hair from his forehead. “My mistake.”

“That was okay, right?” His soft brown eyes turned worried as he wonders if he overstepped for the first time you were together.

“Baby.” The worry on his face has you reaching for his immediately and pressing kisses to his lips. “It was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

“Okay.” He sighs in relief. “I just didn’t want to overstep our first time.”

“Not at all.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose punctuates the promise. “As long as you enjoyed it, too. Sex should be about both of our pleasure.”

“I enjoyed myself.” Marcus admits with an embarrassed grin. “I enjoy getting a little rougher or darker depending on how my partner feels about it.”

“It’s not an every time thing,” you agree, enjoying the way Marcus almost blushes over admitting his pleasure, “but when you’re in the mood it’s so much fun.”

“I can completely agree.” He hums as he shifts to move off of you.

“Do you still want to go to the flea market today?” You’re up for anything. As long as you get to spend the day with him, everything is golden.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, cupping your cheek. “Your birthday was emotional and I just want to give you a day to enjoy.”

"I just want you. As cheesy as that sounds." Reaching up to peck a kiss on his lips, you shift off the bed along with him despite still-wobbly legs. "Let's take a shower and head to the flea market just like we planned. If something else strikes our fancy then we'll switch gears when we think of it?"

“That sounds like a perfect day to me.” Marcus quickly follows you, holding onto your waist as you go into the bathroom. “Shower together?”

"Absolutely." Naked Marcus is rapidly becoming one of your favorite versions of him, and you fully plan on pampering him in the shower in thanks for fucking you senseless. Seems like a fair trade in your mind.

He hums in approval and moves towards the shower stall to turn on the water while you take care of your after sex business. “Do I need to leave for you to use the bathroom?” He asks, aware that it might not be something you like to do— peeing in front of a partner.

"Not on my account." While some girls might be squeamish about that, you're not one of them. "If you can be inside me, you can stand to be in the room while I pee. That's my feeling, anyway."

“Sound logic to me.” He can’t argue with it. “Especially since one day I’ll be in a delivery room as you give birth to our children.”

"And you need to be okay with bodily functions way before that day comes." Hearing him be on the same page as you is both an enormous relief and absolutely thrilling at the same time and you flash him a grin. "Can I...tell you about the dream I had last night? Without you thinking I'm an absolute crazy person?"

“You can tell me anything, always.” He promises, returning your grin easily and reaching for the towels that are neatly folded on a shelf. “I want us to share anything and everything. For us to be more than just soulmates. Friends too.”

"To be fair, we were friends for a whole month before anything happened," you remind him. The shower is already starting to steam the bathroom mirror but you instinctively wash your hands after you finish on the toilet. "We were f-w-y. Friends with yearning."

“Lots of yearning.” Marcus can agree and he opens the door to let you step into the shower. “Tell me about your dream, Princess.”

"It was about us." Stepping under the hot water with him right behind you, you sigh and lean back under the hot spray. "We had..." A small laugh escapes you and you shake your head. "We had four kids, a big, beautiful Golden Retriever, and we were living in a beautiful little house that looked like a converted barn. It was the most beautiful little domestic vision and I almost didn't want to wake up, except I knew that you were there for real right next to me."

“Four kids, huh?” He grins as he wraps his arms around you and slides his hands up to cup your breasts. “These will be off limits for a long time then.”

"Your fault for telling me twins run in your family," you huff at him, though you arch into his touch immediately. "It got in my subconscious."

“I kind of like the idea of four.” He admits, whispering into your ear. “Two for each of us to corral.” He jokes. “We’ll need a big bed for Sunday morning snuggles when they are young.”

"California king and great big blankets for them to cuddle under." The image is a sweet one, and it conjures up lazy morning and plenty of giggling kiddos in your mind. "And the dog, to cap it all off. Because you know the dog will corral them and be their favourite playmate."

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees, chuckling himself. “And shedding everywhere, getting muddy with them. Shrieking when he flings water all over them after a bath.”

You both laugh as you start to wash up, reaching for soap and for washcloths and maneuvering around each other in the shower that was definitely not built for two. "So thank you for a beautiful dream and a beautiful wake up."

“It was absolutely my pleasure.” Marcus puffs proudly. “Every single second of it.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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