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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year

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Big bros and period comforts; Steve Harrington x sister preteen reader

*Author’s note*

And here is yet another request that recently came to me so to the anon who asked for this, I hope you’ll find this in the tags when you go to search this up. Anyways like I said, while I do love seeing some romantic steve fics, I think he deserves some more platonic big bro fics cause let’s face it he may always be the babysitter but he’s sure as HELL one HELL of a damn good one and deserves to be a big brother.

Warnings: period descriptions, swearing, some angst, brotherly fluff, Steve being a good brother.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

___________________________________________________________

I tossed and turned in my bed feeling a cold sweat coming onto my brow. I have been feeling pain in my lower stomach since last night but I just labeled it to that Big Mac Steve got me last night but there was something in the back of my head that told me it wasn’t just the late night McDonald’s. I turned to my clock to see that it was just half past 6am.

I got up from my bed and went to the bathroom and when I pulled down my pants, I noticed how they were stained brown. What the hell?! I took them off and quickly closed and locked the bathroom door.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! This cannot be happening. Not now! Mom’s not even here to help me with this. I don’t know where she keeps her stuff at, hell she could’ve taken all of those stuff since she’s never home! I can’t-I can’t—I can’t do this right now!” I hissed as my lower stomach began to cramp up even more than it had all night.

I quickly sat on the toilet and did my business but I decided to just stay on it cause now my underwear was completely stained just like my pants.

“I can’t believe this is happening now. And why now? I wasn’t prepared for this. I can’t go to school like this. My insides are coming out of my outsides, my stomach is all in knots and cramping every ten seconds, I can’t do this!” I buried my face into my hands and felt tears burning in my eyes.

Great! Now I’m crying! I’m crying at the butt crack of dawn and all because of my stupid period finally decided to make its appearance right here and now with no one to help me through this.

“Hey (Y/n), you okay in there?” oh god no. And to make matters worse, Steve’s gonna find out. There is no way in hell I’m letting my brother anywhere near me in this state.

“Don’t come in here Steve!”

“I’m not. I just wanna know if you’re alright. You sounded pretty frantic just a bit ago.” Shit I forgot. Steve’s room is literally right across from the bathroom, he must’ve heard my frantic ranting earlier god why couldn’t I be quieter? Or better yet why can’t we have a soundproof bathroom?!

“I’m fine. Just go away now and don’t use this bathroom.”

“Sorry squirt but you do realize this is our bathroom. Not just yours.”

“You use this bathroom a lot longer than me and that’s just to do your stupid hair!” I snapped.

“First of all, cut the attitude. I get it’s early but there’s no need to throw a fit. Second, it’s not my fault mom and dad made us share a bathroom. And third, my hair is not stupid.”

“Steve just—leave me alone. I’ll be out soon okay, but just get out of here.”

“Fine. But if you’re not out in the next 20 minutes, I’m breaking down the door with my bat. And you know I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever your scary bat with nails. You take on a few Demogorgon’s and a few demodogs and you think you’re Hercules or something.” I said. I knew Steve probably was flipping me off and I heard the creaks of the floorboards leave the bathroom.

I turned towards my towel and wrapped it around my waist before peeking out the bathroom door just to be sure Steve was really gone. Once I knew he was, I quickly darted back to my bedroom, grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and raced back to the bathroom. I tried using toilet paper as a base to protect my underwear but it kept falling out or sticking out too far so I just decided to screw it and go bare.

Maybe if I just ignore it, it won’t leak or if I try to squeeze my legs together as tight as I could, maybe that’ll stop it from staining my underwear. I put on some new sweatpants and went downstairs to see Steve eating his breakfast.

“Finally done hogging the bathroom I see.”

“Haha you’re hilarious. Like I said, if either one of us is hogging the bathroom it’s use and your Farrah Faucet spray.”

“The threat still stands. I don’t care if you’re my little sister, you tell any of your nerdy friends about it, and like Henderson your ass is grass.”

“Whatever.” I said getting the count chocula. “Hey, do you know when mom’s coming back?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I said so now quit being a smartass. Do you or do you not know?” I snapped.

“You know I’m really not liking this sudden attitude (Y/n). You do realize I’m the older sibling around here.”

“Steve I’m serious just tell me when mom’s coming back!”

“I don’t know. You know her, sometimes she doesn’t call or even send us a letter to tell us when she’s staying on her business trips longer. Just like our old man.” I groaned and took my cereal upstairs. “Where are you going now?! Hey! (Y/n) I’m talking to you!”

“Well I’m through talking to you!”

“Hey!” he grabbed my arm roughly which caused me to drop my bowl of count chocula all over the floor.

“What the fuck Steve!?”

“Don’t turn this on me! Why are you acting like such a spoiled little brat!?”

“It’s none of your damn business!”

“When mom and dad are gone, that makes me in charge therefore what you do is my business!”

“This is basically child abandonment you’re not even 18 yet so you can’t legally watch over me for this period of time!”

“Whether we like it or not, that’s the way things are around here. Believe me I’ve dealt with it longer than you have. Now you have two options; tell me what’s wrong without the attitude, or you can continue to mope while I drag your ass to school.”

“Oh there’s no way I’m going to school today.”

“And why’s that?”

“I just am.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“People do it all the time.”

“But not you. Your only excuse is if you’re dead, sick or just came out of the hospital for broken bones. And you’re not either of the three.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?”

“You just wouldn’t.”

“Why? Because I’m stupid? Because I’m slow? I may not be as smart as you, but I’ll have you know that I—”

“This has nothing to do with scholastic intelligence Steve! This is because you’re a boy and I’m a girl so please don’t bother even trying to fix this because I know you won’t want to!” I took back my arm and immediately raced upstairs and slammed the bathroom door shut before feeling the tears coming down my face.

I slid down against the door until my butt hit the floor and I wept into my knees as I wrapped my arms around my legs. My shoulders shaking as I choked on some sobs.

Truthfully I hate fighting with my brother. We’ve been fighting for years ever since he became ‘King Steve’ and only just recently with the whole Upside down have we’ve tried to rebuild our relationship with each other.

Now thanks to my stupid period and damn hormones, I might’ve fucked everything up. I didn’t mean to snap at him but I knew he wouldn’t understand this. No guy would, hell just last year when I got with the guys after our first ever health class (when they separated all the guys and girls to talk about the reproduction stuff and how our bodies change and shit as we get older), Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will were all pretty scarred from it. So if they acted like that, how would my own brother act alone when I told him I finally started my period?

Knock. Knock.

“(N/n)?” Steve’s voice said in a more calming manner. “Did you—what you said back there, did you umm…..you know?” there was the awkwardness in his tone. He was starting to piece it together.

“What would you’re answer be if I said yes?” I asked as I wiped away my tears.

“Well…..I’d tell you that if you needed, you know the pads. There’s some in the bathroom vanity just above the towels.” Wait what?

“How did—”

“I had seen mom take the last remaining stuff she had before they left. I figured you’d need some just in case it happened now or something.”

“You—bought period pads?”

“Well I wasn’t gonna buy you those tampons. Not even I know how the hell they work. So if you’d think you’d be using those, think again.” I stood up and went over to the vanity closet and just as Steve said, on the shelf above the towels were some pads.

I reached up and took a box down and slowly opened it up. I took a pad out and took off the tape before unfolding it to reveal the pad inside.

“I think you first place it on the—”

“I can manage Steve!” I quickly interrupted him feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Don’t listen Steve!”

“Okay, okay my ears are covered.” I heard him say from behind the door.

“You swear it?”

“What was that? I can’t hear you my palms are practically sucking out my brains.” I rolled my eyes at him. I took the pad out of the sleeve and saw the wings tucked in under the tape. I placed the pad along the main part of my underwear and then removed the small square tape holding the wings in and then folded them over my underwear to make them stay. I pulled my underwear back up and then put my pants back on before coming out of the bathroom. There Steve stood against the right side of the door with his ears covered.

I tapped his elbow and he looked down at me and I motioned for him to uncover his ears. He did as I told him and he asked me.

“How you feel?”

“Like I got a diaper on.”

“Unfortunately that’s something you’ll have to get used to. Maybe next time we need to do a store run you can come with me and you can pick out—” I stopped him by exclaiming and shaking my head.

“Why are you the one talking about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh c’mon Steve, don’t pretend. I know you’re trying to pull off the supportive big brother card on the outside but on the inside, I know talking about this stuff is really making you uncomfortable. Squeamish even.” He hummed for a second before saying.

“Not really.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not, seriously. You think if I were that squeamish I would’ve bought you those pads in there?” I shrugged. “Well I’m wasn’t.”

“But didn’t you get weird looks when people saw you buying this stuff?”

“Some douchebag guys did, but when I told them it was for my little sister they shut up. Then next thing I knew, one of the store’s female employees told me to get you that brand of pads for a first time period.”

“That story true?”

“As true as the nose on my face. Listen,” he placed his hands on my shoulders and we looked at each other. “I know you wish mom were here. She could answer the questions I know that are going through your mind. And she could definitely answer them a lot better than I ever could. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. But you don’t have to be embarrassed about coming to me with these types of things. I had to sit through three years of health class just like I know you are doing right now when they first did it to you guys last year. They still do that thing where they separate you girls and boys and—”

“Yes Steve. They did it last year and we’re supposed to do it again in two weeks.”

“Okay and again they’ll do it when you go into 8th grade. But my point is, it’s biology. You’re not the only girl going through this, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier Steve. I was just—scared but also angry and god I don’t even know what other emotions. But I remembered how last year Dustin and the guys came out of that first health class and they had that thousand yard stare. Like they had been to hell and back, and that was before Will had even disappeared into the Upside down. I thought you’d get that same look or be so uncomfortable you wouldn’t even want to be near me.”

“Well unlike your friends, I’ve lived through this with many girls. Plus I’m more mature to handle that type of stuff than they are.” I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “I’ll allow that just for today. So besides starting your period, anything else bothering you? Cramps? Cold sweat?”

“I’ve been having bad cramps all night, didn’t really sleep well.”

“Okay, so back into bed with you missy. No school for you today.” He said guiding me back to my room.

“I thought you said—”

“Again making an exception. I’ll call the school and tell them you’re sick today.”

“Ahh man!”

“What you have a test or something?”

“No. But Max was gonna teach me some cool moves on her skateboard today.”

“Well she’s gonna have to suck it up and hear your excuse tomorrow. For now, into bed.” He removed the covers and it was then we both saw the stained brown spot on the bed.

“Oh god!” I exclaimed turning embarrassed.

“Hey no worries. Just change the sheets, like I said no big deal.” He tucked away my two main sheets before starting to remove the main bed sheet over my mattress and wadded it up before taking it out of the room. A few minutes passed and he came in with a new bedsheet and asked me, “Care to help me out with this?” I nodded and together we placed the new bed sheet over the mattress before placing my pillows and blankets back on the bed. “Alright, now that that’s taken care of, into bed.”

I did as he said and he tucked me back into bed.

“Need a heating pad? Nance used to say they always helped whenever her cramps got really bad.”

“Can it really do that?”

“Yeah something about extreme heat helps ease the muscles or something. I really can’t remember, maybe you could ask her next time you’re over at Mike’s.”

“You’d really allow me to talk to your ex-girlfriend?”

“There’s no law that says you can’t talk to her even after our breakup. Plus she did enjoy having you around, I’m sure she’d be happy to give you any advice on this kind of stuff.” I nodded. “So heating pad? Got any cravings? I’ve seen and heard some girls talk about their cravings for sweets, mainly chocolate. Would you like some?” I nodded. “Okay, back in a few.” He soon left my room once more.

Even after our intense spat this morning, once he understood what was happening he really was becoming a good big brother in helping out his little sister in her time of need. Not walking around eggshells or being super awkward about it, he understood and seemed to have everything I needed.

Soon he came back with the heating pad, some Hershey bars and a few bags of M&M’s, as well as some of my favorite movies.

“Okay so put this against your lower abdomen, and I’ll plug it up and switch it onto warm first. Then we’ll see if you want to go hotter or cooler.” He handed me the heating pad and I did as he said while we went over to my desk and plugged it into the socket just underneath my work desk.

He flipped the switch and soon I began to feel the warming sensation starting to come around my lower abdomen. I moaned in relief as I shut my eyes and held the heating pad closer to me. I felt something tap my forehead and I saw Steve holding one of the Hersey bars.

“Figured you’d want to eat this now before you pass out.” I took the bar from him and unwrapped it before taking a bite out of it. I don’t know whether it was the hormones or the enhanced senses from my period but this was the absolute, most heavenly thing I’ve ever had in my entire life (and I’ve been eating Hersey bars and kisses for as long as I can remember).

He set the rest of the candy at my bedside and he stroked my hair before telling me.

“I’m gonna quickly call the school and then get your sheets in the washer.”

“Directions are taped to the dryer.” I told him.

“I know, I know. God you let the washer overflow one time.”

“Twice. Remember the first time when mom and dad came early to see soap all across the hallway.”

“Right. But you just get some sleep okay kid?” I nodded. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead gingerly before brushing some of my hair out of my face. “I’ll check on you in a bit.”

“Thank you Steve.” I whispered before feeling the pull between consciousness and unconsciousness and the urge to sleep gripped tightly on me. And thanks to the heating pad, it was increasing greatly.

“You’re welcome (Y/n). Sleep well.” He then went over to the tv and turned it on and the last thing I heard was the opening to Lady and the Tramp playing in the background.

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lightning-writes · 4 months

Text

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 19/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: rue calls bucky (alt: nothing platonic happens after 12 am)

word count: 2150

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: none

a/n: we love a flirty bucky x rue moment! also some ruby lore!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

The clatter of his phone vibrating on the wooden floor makes him groan. Who the hell is calling him after midnight? He rolls over and sees the bleary image of Rue’s face.

Panic rises in his chest as he stands. He answers the phone with an alarmed, “Hello?”

“It’s a video call, friend, get me away from your ear.”

Bucky holds the phone out to see Rue in a bathroom. She has the phone propped behind the sink, rubbing something onto her face, and she looks down at the phone.

(He first notices her exposed stomach from the cropped tank top, then her pierced nipples again. He can’t presume her intention, but he doesn’t know which Rue’s getting tonight. And it makes his ears hot.)

“Jesus Christ, James,” she startles him out of his thoughts. The phone is in her hands now, her face close to the screen. “Look at those pectorals.”

Bucky looks down at his shirtlessness. Automatically, his hand flies up to cover himself.

In a muffle tone that he can only believe is to herself, she mutters, “I mean, I knew you were jacked, but goddamn.”

(Bucky has no idea how he should feel about this statement, but it certainly does make him feel something.)

She sets the phone back down and begins to braid her hair. To him, she says, “Vick has Frank over, so I thought I’d call you. I’m just getting ready for bed.” She peeks down at the phone. “Were you sleeping?”

“Kinda.” He wasn’t, but his answer is more acceptable than saying he was trying to find a comfortable spot on the floor of his nearly empty living room. “But, it’s fine.”

“Great.” She applies something else to her face, taking her time rubbing it into the skin. “I just had half a bottle of wine, so be prepared for that.”

(He makes a non-committal noise, wondering what drove her to drink.)

“Anyway, what’s up, how was your day?”

“Uh, fine?” He walks into his dark bedroom and finds a shirt. He doesn’t even have a lamp; he has to turn on the bright overhead light and frowns. He sits on his bed with only one pillow left. “How was yours?” he asks, unsure.

He watches her walk from the bathroom to her bedroom. She sits on the bed with a huff, and he notices the shelves above her headboard. Dried orange slices and small twinkling light hang from the bottom shelf, and he sees a plant vine that nearly brushes her head. Under the shelves, there are photographs taped to her wall, some people, some landscapes. He sees the shine of a still wrapped condom when he averts his eyes.

“Glad you asked.” She calls attention back down to her. “So, you know how I work at Waterway? Well, so did Maeve, until we broke up, so everyone working there knows our story and mostly everyone knows about the whole Dean situation. So, apparently, Maeve just posted her engagement to Instagram, and literally, Bucky, I kid you not, everyone on staff asked me about it. If I was sad about it, if I’d seen it. As if I didn’t block her on all my socials already! You’d think they’d have more decorum, but obviously not!”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky offers. He got lost in the rant for a moment, but he finds his way out by the end.

She plows through his sympathy. “So, I went– wait, are you… against hooking up or anything?”

“What?” He’s confused by the sharp turn of conversation.

“I mean, being from the 1940’s and all that,” she says impatiently, “I don’t want to offend you with my sexcapades.”

“You won’t,” he nearly laughs. “Trust me.”

(She pauses for too long a moment, and he wishes he knew what she was thinking.)

“Okay, so I went to this lesbian bar I’d gone to with Maeve once, and tried to hook up with someone, but I had no luck - I bet the loser vibes were just emanating off me - so I asked Vick if we could have a girls’ night. And she’d said yes, but then canceled at the last minute!” She brings the phone close to her face again, to whisper, “Frank asked her to dinner, and she thinks he’s going to propose soon, so I guess she’s jumping at every opportunity? I don’t know, I don’t believe in marriage.”

“Didn’t you prop–”

“Anyway,” she says dramatically, giving him a hard look through the screen. He suppresses a grin. “So, while they were out - which I’d like to point out, it was ten o’clock when this happened - Dean came over, like he fucking knew I was alone and rejected, and he dropped off my stuff I’d left at his apartment. And I told him I’m not returning shit because it’s not like I’m keeping fucking tabs on all the belongings in my house!”

Bucky notes how much she swears but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he asks, “Is that a normal thing to do?”

“Have you ever watched a ‘90’s sitcom?” Rue scoffs. She’s now laying in her bed. She brushes the end of her braid over her face idly.

“Actually–”

She doesn’t let him finish. “So, after he left, I had my wine, I did my skincare, and I called you – lucky you!”

“Lucky me.” He tucks his arm behind his head. She watches him with another expression he can’t place. “Aren’t you tired, after all that?”

She sighs, her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Honestly, my brain won’t shut up.”

“I can’t sleep, either,” he confesses after a beat.

(He’s tempted to tell her he can come over or they could go somewhere, but he doesn’t want to fluster her, like she’s been.)

“Give me a house tour,” she declares unprompted. She’s laying on her side, giving him a playfully stern face. “You’ve been to my place, but I’ve never seen yours.”

“You didn’t give me a tour.”

“You didn’t ask for one.”

He rolls his eyes, schooling his amused look. “There isn’t much to see,” he admits.

“I demand entertainment, Barnes,” she pounds a fist into her bed.

(His brain stalls when she calls him by his last name.)

Bucky gets up and turns the front facing camera to his bedroom. He has a dresser, a laundry hamper, and a nightstand. He doesn’t give commentary as he enters the living room, showing his TV, still on, his record player, its speakers, and his small couch. He discreetly kicks away his sleeping setup on the floor as he moves to the kitchen. Rue watches, quietly, drinking from a cup with a familiar bird logo.

“That’s it,” he suppresses a yawn as he sits on the couch. “I told you, not much to see.”

“Oh, but it definitely entertained me,” she says. She looks sleepy, too; her blinks are slower. “Were you watching something?”

“Whatever’s on at,” he checks the time, “at two in the morning.”

“Hmmm,” she hums. He passes a hand through his still shower-damp hair. She then sits up. “Wait, did you get a haircut?”

He’s startled, fingers still combing through his hair. “...uh, yes?”

“You know, if I knew calling you was just going to be a thirst trap, I would have prepared better.” She pauses. “A thirst trap is–”

“Yeah, I actually know what that one means,” he interrupts.

(He briefly wonders what she meant by prepared. He also wonders how long they’ll continue this dance. WIll it end in a grand finale or will the song scratch to a stop?)

She gives him a curious look. “So, you know what you’re doing.”

He shrugs, “I’m just existing.”

“Well, exist less hot when I’m too drunk.” She flops back, dramatically throwing a hand over her forehead. “You know, this is what got us into the Thanksgiving mess in the first place.”

“Is that right?”

“It looks nice, your hair,” she ignores his comment, “I mean, it looked nice before, but…”

She yawns. He yawns.

There’s a long stretch of silence between them, and Bucky wonders if he should be the responsible one to call it a night.

“Can I tell you a secret, Buck?”

“Are you sure you want to do that? In light of the Thanksgiving incident?” She gives him a flat look, and he gives her a soft smile. “Yeah, Rue, I want to hear your secret.”

“I’m… miserable.”

(Her whisper breaks him.)

“I’m miserable, and I deserve it.” She wipes a tear curling down her cheek with the end of her braid. “I’m miserable, and I deserve it, and there’s nothing you can say to make me think otherwise.”

“Okay,” he responds too casually. She gives him a sharp look. “You know, if you were calling to have a pity party, I would have prepared better.” She tries to mask her amusement blooming behind her mad features. “I would have put up a banner… or maybe, some balloons–”

She huffs. “Okay, I get it.”

“I think…” Bucky pauses, eyes avoiding the screen to fully form his thoughts. “You don’t deserve to feel miserable.” He looks at her then, and shrugs a shoulder. “If you did, you wouldn’t.”

“Go on.”

He chuckles. “If you did deserve it, if you really were a bad person, I don’t think you would feel so miserable. Your misery is… it’s your guilt. I mean… you know what you did wasn’t great, and you actually feel bad about it.”

“All right, big boy, we get it. You go to therapy.”

“You studied therapy,” he counters.

(He pointedly ignores her ‘big boy’ comment.)

“Yeah, okay, but it wasn’t like it was my first choice,” she retorts. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you this before because I know you have paranoid tendencies, but it seems like I’m a sinking ship and, apparently, a glutton for punishment, so I’m gonna tell you–”

“That’s a big preamble for you telling me you almost worked for Shield.”

Rue props herself up with her elbow, again, staring at him so intensely, it almost looks like the video is frozen.

“How could you have possibly known that? That’s super confidential.”

(Bucky had left the gym immediately after receiving the call from The Toad. He met with him at Red Hook Pier, in the rainy night, because better safe than sorry.

“Soldier,” the Toad greeted him in Russian.

Bucky hands him the envelope thick with cash. “That’s not me anymore.”

He hands Bucky the envelope of information with a knowing look. “You will always be a soldier, even if you aren’t the Winter Soldier.”

“Anything I need to know?”

“How do the Americans say it,” he says in English, accent thick and stumbling, “‘The call is coming from inside the house’?”)

He just says, “I’m a former spy.”

“You don’t even know my last name,” she protests.

“Is that right, Ruby David?” he challenges.

He watches realization spread across her features. “Okay, fine, I should have guessed you’d do this. Re: paranoid.”

“Prepared.”

“Distrusting.”

“Vigilant.”

“So, what else did you find?” she asks abruptly.

He’s quick to answer, “What are you worried I’d find?”

“Not worried.” She fiddles with her braid. “Just… curious. I’ve been pretty much an open book, other than the Shield stuff.”

To be fair, she’s telling the truth there. Aside from standard information about her and her family, Bucky mostly found information about her rebellion throughout high school, skipping class, failing class, getting caught smoking all over campus. He saw she’d been arrested at the age of twenty for protesting and a string of bar fights. She also had a long list of lovers, ranging from her age to much older, in quick succession. She’d been paid for her relationships, something the Toad called a “sugar baby”.

Her history with Shield had been brief and mostly one-sided. She’d done a lot of research into finding out whether they actually existed and how she could join them. When she’d been accepted, she had started training… and had backed out a week before initiation. It aligns with what she’d said about taking in her brother.

By the time Mikey had moved out, Hydra would have been outed, and Shield had dissolved.

(Bucky had been there for that one.)

“Yeah, you’ve been pretty honest,” he finally says.

She hums, eyes blinking slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Bucky is picking up the bedding from the ground and transferring it to his bed as her eyes are downcast. He settles into bed and sighs. “I get why you didn’t. I wouldn’t have told me either.”

Her lips quirk a soft smile. And she yawns again. And he follows. A hush falls between them, just the sound of them breathing. Bucky feels his eyelids grow heavier. The glow of the TV outside casts a dim glow into the bedroom,

“I should get going,” she finally sighs. “I have work at seven tomorrow morning.”

“In three hours,” he corrects.

“Fuck.” She turns on her side. She repeats, “I should sleep.”

Bucky mirrors her. “So, go to sleep.”

“You first.”

Bucky closes his eyes and pretends to snore. He hears her surprised giggle, and he catches her biting her lip as she gazes at him.

“Stay on the line.”

“Okay.” He switches his phone to his other hand. “Good night, Ruby.”

“Sweet dreams, James.”

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landinrris · 4 months

Note

I need to get my soapbox out for this one. I can’t not agree with you more on the twinklaren and mctwinks terms. It just gets my knickers in a twist for multiple reasons.

1) twink is historically meant to be a thin, white, young gay man.

A)While neither driver has declared their sexuality publicly, Oscar is in a straight relationship with a women, and it doesn’t feel right to use a gay term to refer to him. Lando has dated at least one woman in the past and has never said anything different. I really don’t like using a term for a gay man for Lando since there is so much open speculation about his sexuality and using the term seems like a presumption on our part. If he is something other than straight, he can make it public or not in his own time.

B) Using a term that refers to the body shape of anyone male/female/other doesn’t feel great either. Especially since they are not the stereotypical thinness of a twink. They are incredibly fit muscular young men who spend a lot of time and effort on their physical fitness for their jobs. I don’t think we should be referring to their body shapes in general but especially not calling them them as thin/waifish as that promotes a muscular body standard for men who have a thinner body type that is difficult to obtain.

2)I know shipping them is popular, but the use of twink makes certain assumptions about their sexuality and is strong on the shipping side of things. I personally feel that shipping should stay in rpf and certain online communities and not in spaces they can see. When I see these terms used in instagram or twitter under the official McLaren accounts it feels icky. The whole Oscar heart eyes thing under Mclarens instagram account is out of control.

3)I am a straight female. Using a term that is from the gay community and that I don’t know the deep history and meaning up just feels icky as well. I would never go up to one of my gay friends and say “oh you are such a twink” so why would I think it’s okay to use it online?

My suggestion for a change. I think we can still keep the whole fun word play, but just change it a bit. Turn it into McTwins and TwinClaren. They do have similar features and similar mannerism. The twinning is cute, and doesn’t have any underlying commentary on their sexuality or body types. It’s almost more brotherly, the idea of twin brothers. It would take a lot of the ick out of it for me.

Anyway, stepping down from my soapbox now. Sorry for the rant

This sums up a lot of my feelings really well. I love your soapbox and you should never get down.

Among all the points you listed here, I never go into comment sections because it's always a hellhole, but seeing you say people comment twink- and heart-eyed-related things makes me want to die. People (both fandom and admins at this point) lose boundaries more and more every day.

I personally don't ship Lando and Oscar (though that's not news), nor do I think they really even look like each other apart from both being young white guys with dark hair, but a change in how people refer to them as a pair would be welcome in my eyes. I will personally keep tagging their joint things with "sibling behavior" because you're right, their relationship is very brotherly in my eyes.

#ask

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Hey guys,

I want to clarify some things in case I haven’t been clear enough about them before. Lately I have gotten masses on asks that are just plain weird and it’s making me uncomfortable and I am pretty fed up, so also sorry for the rant. But like I said countless times already, most people don’t really check for this anyway, I still think it should be said and are gonna include it in my FAQ.

1. I don’t want to roleplay with you. No matter how nice, experienced, careful you are, I have no interest in RPing, I never did it and never will do it probably. I don’t consent to being roleplayed at and it’s not okay to send me messages in yandere RP talking about how you’ll kill people that wrong me or adore me so much you want to kill my family and keep me to yourself. I am not sure where someone would get the idea from to think that’s okay to send to anyone, but if you don’t have the social maturity to know that you can’t just say that to someone, I pity you. I only write yandere. I don’t want to live in those fantasies and I especially don’t want people harrassing me to engage in their roleplay. Especially not without warning. No means no, also through messenger or on any other blog of mine, and I will not reconsider no matter how many asks I am being sent. Go to a proper roleplaying blog and interact with them.

2. If you are a minor and think you absolutely have to be on my blog, then don’t interact with me. I don’t allow you on my blog, so if you think this is where your internet rebellion needs to happen then leave me out of it. I am not responsible for you or your internet use and I don’t want to interact with, and I say that with all due respect, people who don’t match my age. I turn 25 soon, I have no reasons and no intentions to talk to teenagers. I will block you if I find out, but I don’t have the time and energy to go through every follower to check. It’s simply not that important to me to play parental supervision for kids that do what they want anyway and haven’t matured enough to understand they are not welcome. If you have to be on my blog, at least be quiet and don’t interact with me via asks and comments.

3. Stop telling me what to with my blog unless I ask for help. It has occured more than a couple dozen times now that people think they should tell me I should censor words because they don’t like them, cut my stories at points they think would make better endings, or change my layout? If I didn’t ask, who does anyone think they are to tell me what to do? I already relent so much whenever someone tells me to tag literally anything as if this is Ao3 and you don’t have an ask/warnings on top you should have read first. I even relent when people tell me to put a read more for barely 1k words, even though they don’t know how much that stops the post from being seen and acknowledged (no shit, read more’s actually kill engagement). And yes, there are the well-meant messages who alert me to problems with links or the like and I am glad to fix these, but otherwise, who asked? If someone is so unhappy with my posts then leave, I am not keeping you locked here. Same goes for my masterpost. I know it’s outdated. It haunts me every day, I hate it so much. Never wanted to do it, so leave me alone until I have time and peace to go through posts and add links to it. Use the search functions/tags, please be a bit more respectful to me and my time and do some work for yourself. It’s not my job to hand out everything on a silver platter.

4. I don’t do requests that obviously are OCs or compliant darlings. Seriously, why do we still have to go over this? Pay me when my commissions are open, or leave me alone. I just don’t like it. The internet is free, my time and sanity isn’t. I won’t create your OC for you just because you make your reader super detailed and ask me how reactions would be to them/from them. I don’t know how your OC would react, seems like a job for you to figure it out. And for the compliant darling, I understand that it can be a fine line between the two, but no matter if romantically, platonically, etc. If your darling is absolutely fine with all the yandere behavior then send the request to someone else. I don’t care for it. I’ll just trash it upon receiving. Maybe on that note, please don’t send me requests that aren’t yandere either. Don’t make me tap my username to remind you it’s a yandere blog. It’s not supposed to be wholesome and cushy and cute unless you feel a hint of dread and murderous intent.

And like always, don’t send requests twice, ask me for updates, tell me your negative opinion on my choices, ask for part 2′s and add unnecessary smut to your requests. I know not everyone has my sickness of overthinking things 7 times before sending them to someone, but? Treat me like a human and not your personal writing AI? Thanks.

#Admin #PSA

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welcometocrapvale · 1 year

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Wrote a silly little fic.

You have a place with us

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson

Additional Tags: Meeting the Parents, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life

Language: English

Word count: 3322

Summary:

Steve is meeting Eddie's uncle. Once there, he realizes he already knew him (sort of).

Notes:

Additional warnings: Steve gets in a car crash, but nothing bad happens. There is a small reference to the HIV/AIDS crisis.

This may be a bit discombobulated. I've been very scatterbrained and this idea came to me in my sleep.

I did my best to check grammar and spelling, but this is not beta read. Sorry for any mistakes.

I haven't finished a fic since the year started. I owe a fic to someone. I've been working on it, but things have been hard. I'm sorry =(

Steve was fighting a stubborn strand of hair in the bathroom. The door was open, and he could see Robin picking cookie crumbs from his bed. He had told her to get a plate. She had promised to be careful. He knew he would be sweeping after her anyway, but some effort into preventing it would have been nice. Especially considering how nervous he was.

"Hey dingus, stop it! Your hair looks nice. It may fall if you continue doing that," she said, giving up on her task. Steve dropped his comb, giving up too.

"Fuck," he laughed, with an edge of nervousness on his breaths. "I just want to make a good impression. I'm good with parents! Parents love me! But maybe uncles won't? Maybe when you're a guy dating a guy there are other expectations? Eddie said Wayne is okay with him dating a man but… it's still scary, you know?" Robin nodded. "Of course you do!" Steve slapped his forehead.

He was ranting.

Usually, Robin was the one doing that.

"It's uncharted territory," Steve gave her a questioning look. "Unexplored. Unknown! You don't know what's going to happen… But you have experience! It's not exactly the same, but you have practice. I've witnessed how quickly parents fall for your charms! I'm sure you've got this. Just try to relax and be yourself."

Robin had moved closer to him and slapped his shoulder, encouraging.

"Thanks, Rob," Steve smiled, rubbing his neck. He was still nervous, but Robin's pep talk was nice.

"Now take me home and go to Eddie's. Better not be late," Robin added, undoing what little she had accomplished.

Steve was a bundle of nerves again. Fumbling for his keys and almost dropping the apple pie he had made. The crust was store-bought, but he had made the filling from scratch. Eddie said apple pie was Wayne's favorite. He would get vanilla ice cream on his way there.

So he dropped Robin off at her place, went for ice cream, and drove to Eddie's place. It was a nice cozy house that the government had provided them, along with a nice sum of hush money.

Steve had also received a check. It didn't have a date, so he was waiting for his 21st birthday to open an independent bank account.

As Steve was taking a turn, another car came at him, driving over the speed limit and in the wrong direction. Everything felt slowed down, and yet he didn't have a chance to react. He saw the car driving towards him and the next thing he knew he was being pulled out of his car by paramedics.

Why?

Why did this have to happen today?

"What's important about today?" Someone asked. Had he been talking aloud? Shit.

"What's your name?" The same person asked again.

"Steve," he replied.

"What's your surname, Steve?"

"Harrington. My name's Steve Harrington," he winced at that. Or was it at the pain he felt on his left shoulder? Maybe both. He didn't like how his full name sounded anymore.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"It's August 26th."

"Can you open your eyes?"

Steve slowly did. Why did he have them closed? Oh, yeah, the light had made his head hurt. It was dimmer now. Sunset? Fuck.

"What time is it?" Steve asked.

"Twenty minutes past seven," came the reply a few seconds later.

"Shit," he closed his eyes again. "Sorry," He added, not wanting to be reprimanded for his language.

"Shit feels like an understatement in a moment like this," the paramedic laughed, making Steve chuckle.

"I was on my way to dinner with a friend," Steve said. "To meet hi… her family."

"I'm sure her family will understand your circumstances," the paramedic said. Steve hummed. He really hoped Wayne and Eddie wouldn’t get mad at him.

The paramedic checked his vision, his reflexes, and his breathing. It looked like he only had a dislocated shoulder, and his car hadn't been too damaged. An ugly indent on the driver's door and some scratches.

The paramedics wouldn't let him go, though. He saw a payphone across the street and got permission to use it. He called Robin. She would never forgive him if he didn't call her first. She was worried and offered to have her parents drive her to wherever he was, but he lovingly declined. He asked her to call Eddie, though. She said she didn't have his number. Steve knew it by heart. Robin teased him about it, and then he ran out of credit.

He felt better after talking to her. The paramedic asked him if he had called his friend. He just nodded.

They fixed his shoulder and put his arm in a sling.

They had to wait for the police to fill in an incident report. He was glad the ambulance had been quick to arrive.

He wondered what Eddie and Wayne were thinking about him right now. He hoped he didn't disappoint them.

Waiting also gave him time to worry about his parents' reaction to the accident. His father would be furious. His mom wouldn't say anything. She would just look at him with pity and embarrassment.

He would have to take some extra hours at work to afford the car repairs.

He sat in the ambulance, sipping water while he waited. Seeing Hopper drive up to him usually meant some kind of trouble (mostly being called out for his house parties), but now he was glad to see a familiar face. If he had to deal with the police, he was glad it was Jim Hopper.

They filled in the report for a hit and run. There had been no other casualties (human or material). Steve was glad about that. His car had insurance, but it was in his father’s name, and he didn’t want to alert him.

He knew it was ridiculous to be afraid. The accident hadn’t been his fault. But he knew that wouldn’t matter. The man would find a way to blame him.

“Are you okay, kiddo?” Hopper asked softly, placing a hand over his good shoulder. He had seen Hopper’s softer side when talking to El, but having that worried stare directed at him was weird.

“Yeah,” he nodded and gave the man a soft smile.

“Do you want me to take you home? I’ll have your car towed to the station to get some pictures for the report. Then we can take it to your place or a shop.”

“Okay, yeah. But not home. I was on my way to Eddie’s,” Steve said, rubbing his neck nervously.

“Okay. I can take you there, kid.”

“Thanks,” Steve said and turned to thank the paramedics too.

He and Hopper walked silently to the police car. As they passed next to his poor battered car, he noticed a bundle in the passenger seat.

“My pie!” He exclaimed, startling Hopper, who gave him a questioning look. “I made an apple pie. It’s still there! I had completely forgotten about it.”

“Well, that’s lucky,” Hopper chuckled.

“I guess,” Steve let out a breathy laugh and carefully took the pie and ice cream through the open window.

“Can I have a slice?”

“I’ll make you one.”

“You don’t have to,” Hopper quickly backtracked.

“I know. I want to. You didn’t have to personally come because of a car accident without any casualties,” Steve said, intently looking at him.

Hopper laughed and nodded.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” the chief admitted.

“Thanks,” Steve said as they got into the car.

“You and the Munson kid have kept in touch, then?”

“Yeah. An unlikely friendship, I know.”

“Not more unlikely than you and Henderson, or you and Sinclair,” Hopper said.

“True. True. At least he’s my age,” Steve laughed.

They drove in awkward silence for a bit. Hopper turned on the radio. Steve hummed, trying to keep still so as not to drop the pie he was hugging against his body with his good arm. He could feel the cold from the ice cream tub on his stomach. He hoped it wasn’t soup by now.

Thankfully, the drive was quite short.

“Do you have a drive home?” Hopper asked as he was stopping in front of the Munson’s house.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thank you, chief,” Steve said, struggling to open the door and balance the pie. Hopper was unfastening his seat belt to help, but Eddie came running out of the house and hurried to Steve’s side.

“Oh, man, are you okay?!”

“Yeah, all good, don’t worry, Eds,” Steve nodded.

“Your arm!”

“It’ll be okay. Take this, please,” Steve requested, handing Eddie the bag with pie and ice cream.

“Thank you again, Hopper,” Steve said, standing outside the car.

“No problem, kid. Take care. You too, Munson. Don’t get in any trouble.”

“When have I ever?” Eddie exclaimed, acting wounded by the suggestion. Hopper and Steve laughed. Steve closed the door of the car, and hopper drove away.

“Stevie, you didn’t have to come. A phone call would've been enough!”

“I hope it’s not too late for dinner? I brought dessert,” Steve smiled nervously.

“Dinner is the least of my worries! Wayne was a bit angry, but after Robin called, he became worried. I think he will be glad to see you.”

“That’s good,” Steve laughed. “I’m okay, I swear. I dislocated my shoulder, and they recommended keeping it in a sling for a few weeks, but that’s all.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded and led Steve inside the house.

Wayne was sitting on the couch watching the news, a bottle of beer in his hand. When he saw Steve crossing the threshold, he quickly stood up and greeted him.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay, kid,” the man said.

“Thanks,” Steve offered his right hand for a handshake. Wayne took it. “I’m sorry I kept you guys waiting.”

“I thought you were flunking on my boy, but after your friend called, I was more worried about your well-being,” Wayne admitted. “Eddie wanted to drive around to find you. I told him we should wait for you to call. I didn’t expect you would show up after a car crash!”

“Well. I made pie, didn’t want it to go to waste,” Steve laughed, slightly on edge.

“Thank you, Steve,” Wayne smiled, but his eyes had a sad glimmer. “You two sit. I’ll reheat the food.”

Steve and Eddie nodded. Eddie told Steve to sit and put the ice cream in the freezer and the pie on the kitchen counter.

Eddie sat next to Steve on the couch and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Steve visibly relaxed, gave Eddie a smile, and put his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, Wayne called them to the table.

“This looks delicious,” Steve said, sitting down next to Eddie. It was a simple meal. Mashed potatoes, pork chop, and some steamed veggies. But it was clearly homemade and smelled like garlic and other spices.

“No need to butter me up with empty compliments,” Wayne said, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was serious.

“I mean it. It looks and smells amazing,” Steve doubled down.

“Wayne is always downplaying his cooking skills. Compared to the things I cook, this is like dining at Enzo’s,” Eddie laughed.

“If you consider Spaghettios and crushed Doritos dinner, anything will be comparable to fine dining, kid,” Wayne and Steve laughed. Eddie acted offended. “Well, dig in,” Wayne prompted them and took a bite of his food.

Dinner was indeed delicious. And less tense than Steve had imagined. Wayne wasn’t the kind to ask loads of questions, but Steve could feel his intense gaze scrutinizing his every move.

He trusted his actions. Not so much his words. They got jumbled, especially when he was nervous. But he was good at showing his feelings. And he had nothing but love for Eddie. He hoped Wayne would see that.

It was crazy how fast things had gone with Eddie. Sometimes he felt scared by how good it was. Eddie had confessed he’d had a crush on Steve since his freshman year. It had been so embarrassing for him, he said. The school freak having a crush on the popular guy? Mortifying. Not anymore, of course. Now Eddie knew him. He had witnessed Steve biting a demobat, for god’s sake. No one could blame him. Steve had laughed at the rant until his stomach hurt.

Steve gave them some more details about the crash. Then they talked about work, their weekend plans, and sports. Wayne was a football fan, but he also enjoyed basketball. It felt good to have something in common with the man.

Eddie cleared the table as they talked and then disappeared into the kitchen. After a few minutes, he came back with dessert.

“That looks good!” Wayne exclaimed.

“Eddie said apple was your favorite, sir,” Steve said, nervously running his hands through his hair. “I hope you like it.”

“It’s delicious, Steve,” Wayne said after trying it. “You should come around for dinner more often,” Steve smiled shyly into his plate.

When they were done eating, Steve insisted on helping clean the dishes, but Wayne refused. He allowed him to help clear out the table and said he would handle the dishes the next day.

He saw a familiar keychain hanging on a hook next to the light switch in the kitchen. It was a plastic Garfield figurine. The paint was chipped, and it was a bit dirty, but it was very familiar to him. He remembered when his parents were having their pool built. One of the contractors carried that keychain.

This had been almost fifteen years ago. He’d been a kid. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t recognized the man? He had always been nice to him. Steve was curious about the work the men were doing and would sneak around to watch them. His parents would get angry and tell him not to bother the workers, but the man with the Garfield keychain would always say he didn’t mind and explain what they were doing, taking care Steve kept away from danger.

The man had come back a few times to work on other things around the house, and then they suddenly changed to someone else. Wayne had been in the middle of installing an electric garage door, and from one to the next, they hired someone new. Steve remembers asking his parents about the man and them telling him to forget about him. Doing so wasn’t so easy. The man had paid more attention to him than his parents. Even allowing him to help. He would sit next to Wayne and hand him tools, screws, and bolts.

“Mr. Munson?” Steve said, his voice trembling. They were sitting in the living room now, sipping on drinks (non-alcoholic for Eddie and Steve).

“Please, call me Wayne. None of that sir or Mr. thing.”

Steve nodded and swallowed.

“You worked for my parents when I was a kid, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Wayne said, looking at him with surprise. “I didn’t think you’d remember! That was before Eddie came to live with me.”

“You were very kind to me. That’s hard to forget,” Steve laughed nervously.

“I remember your parents yelling at you for being curious. You were a good assistant,” Wayne smiled warmly.

“Thanks for being so patient with me,” Steve said, looking at his lap. Eddie intertwined their fingers and squeezed his hand gently.

“You were very well behaved! Barely tested my patience. This guy, on the other hand…” Wayne trailed off laughing and pointing at Eddie, who made an affronted noise.

Steve chuckled.

“You stopped working for them very suddenly. Did something bad happen?” Steve regretted his question immediately. Wayne’s expression became closed. Almost ashamed.

The man sighed and ran a hand through his face.

“Yeah… I got in a fight with some guys calling a young boy some nasty words. Things Eddie’s been called too. Then people started calling me that, and your parents didn’t want me around anymore.”

Steve’s eyes opened in surprise. He could feel them prickle, getting teary. He knew his parents wouldn’t be accepting of homosexuality. He shouldn’t be surprised by this. His dad had used those words as an insult many times. It was still painful, though.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, letting go of Eddie’s hand to dry his unshed tears.

“It’s not your fault, Steve. Eddie’s parents were the same. That’s why I took him in,” Wayne said. Steve nodded. Eddie had told him how he had ended up living with his uncle. “There’s room for you here with us if you ever need it,” the man added.

“Thanks,” Steve said, voice strained. Eddie squeezed his shoulder and nodded.

“You’re a good one, Steve,” Wayne said, stood up, and messed his hair. “I really hope neither of you does the other wrong. I don’t mean to tell you you have to be together forever, just… don’t hurt each other.”

The man stood up, finished his beer, and kissed both their foreheads on his way to the kitchen.

Eddie beamed at Steve, and Steve laughed through a few tears that rolled down his face.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy. If you need anything, I’ll be in my room,” Wayne said, walking past them.

“Thank you, Wayne,” Steve said, smiling.

“Do I need to give you guys the sex talk?”

Eddie grimaced and shook his head. Steve laughed.

“We’re good. Use protection, get tested frequently. No risk of pregnancy for us,” Steve said, feeling more relaxed after the talk.

“Good, good. I’m still too young to be a grandpa,” Wayne replied, laughing. This took Eddie out of his horror, sending him into a fit of giggles.

Wayne waved goodbye to them, and they found a comfortable position to cuddle on the couch.

“I didn’t know Wayne had worked in your house,” Eddie said. “He never mentioned it.”

“Maybe he didn’t think it was relevant?” Steve suggested.

“He knew about my crush on you, though.”

“He did?” Steve was genuinely surprised. He had always found it hard to talk to his parents about his feelings. They had always found out about his girlfriends through other people.

“I could not stop talking about the pretty boy in my P.E. class. I must’ve been so annoying,” Eddie laughed nervously.

“That’s not surprising,” Steve teased. Eddie carefully nudged him on the ribs with his elbow.

“I guess he didn’t want to talk about it. I think he lost a lot of clients after those rumors started. He did tell me that’s why he started working at the factory,” Eddie said, frowning thoughtfully. Steve hummed.

“That’s bullshit,” Steve said, getting angry.

“Uh?”

“Losing clients because of rumors about your private life. His work was good! Why do they care?”

“People say lots of nasty things about gay people, Steve. Especially gay men. Not only those mean words… they say we are pedophiles, kidnappers, that we want to make everyone like us… And now, with the virus, the idea that we are contagious is even more present…”

They sighed in unison.

“Sorry…” Steve said, not knowing what else to add.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Stevie,” Eddie said and kissed him.

“It’s unfair, though,” Steve said.

“I know.”

Steve rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie ran his hands through Steve’s hair. They stayed like that, in silence, watching TV until they fell asleep.

Steve dreamt of the two of them sharing a home, cooking together, a small child sitting on the ground playing with a stuffed Garfield.

He woke up to learn that Wayne had turned off the TV and put a blanket over them. He could smell coffee and toast. He smiled and felt Eddie tighten the grip around his waist. It was nice to feel there was a place for him, with people who loved and accepted him.

#steddie #steddie fic

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peaky-shelby · 1 year

Note

OKAY HI

I still have plenty more commenting to do but just gonna put it out here cause I just need to say it lmao. I adore Taylor so so much. She feels like a very well rounded character with her flaws, strong points, insecurities etc. And its evident as well how both her and Kylian are so similar which is also why they butt heads sooo much. Both have an ego that’s backed up by their skills and both, altho aware of each other’s skills, just cannot full on 100% admit that (and they might not anytime soon even tho Kylian is slowly warming up to her).

But like ugh the circumstances that surround them is the real tragedy of their dynamic. The media, Taylor’s position at psg and being his literal boss, the whole JW blog thing, her own insecurities/fears with football and lord knows how much harsher the media is with women than men esp since Kylian is the Football Prince. There’s just so much at stake for her than him and that just means taylor might not ever be a hundred percent real with him. they can have all the moments they want behind closed doors but unfortunately a very real world is waiting outside for them that will be absolutely unforgiving (mostly for her).

Taylor already had to give up football due to something out of her control once before and sucks to see that this ‘relationship’ with kyks could cause her the same pain and I just don’t know how she will ever recover from that. It could cause a loooot of blaming Kylian (even tho he’s not really at fault) which in turn leads to him being a symbol of everything she lost (and everything she could achieve). Someone with a temperament like Taylor’s, that would be a very hard pill to swallow fam.

AND regarding that recent poll, (I know u didn’t ask for opinions!!) but fr I just do not see them having a happy ending. AT LEAST NOT RIGHT NOW. Maybe some years down the road where they don’t have such a huge impact on each other’s career and don’t have such heavy ties with each other. then they can also discover if they like each other because of who they are OR was it just a very intoxicating dynamic that rived up each other’s motors (lmao sorry I didn’t know how else to word it).

ANYWAYS SORRY FOR THE LONG RANT I HOPE SOME OF IT MADE SENSE. Reading New Romantics makes me feel like im back in literature class, analyzing every single word and I love it <3. Cannot wait for the next update and uhh yeah ily. Tag me pls <3

Me everytime someone takes the time to write a long review and theory:

EXCUSE ME MATE,,, YOUVE MADE MY HEART GOO BOOM BOOM AGAIN I LOVE YOU SM😭

I'm in awe of the way you understand the characters and pick on the details. It makes me feel like I'm doing something right and like i have to up my game at the same time. The things you noted are true, it's not about confirming or denying that the situation is very fragile, especially for Taylor.

Please keep ranting away because honestly this sort of messages melt my heart and get my brain going and also make me wanna do better for every single one of you that has wasted even a minute on my work.

Now about the ending obviously I'm not saying anything but anyone is allowed to send opinions and i love seeing them. If anything they are incredibly helpful.

Ones again, i appreciate you with all my heart. Your work is one of the first i read on this fandom so this means a thousand times more to me. Thank you for everything!!

Love you xx

#newromanticsfic

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kurlyfrasier · 2 years

Text

Love Unknown (Part 3)

Most patient Nonny in the entire world! I have finally, FINALLY, finished your request! I hope you enjoy it and I profusely apologize for the wait (I am also sorry to anyone else who has been waiting). You are AMAZING, my friend!

Pairing: Raph x Reader

The Request (includes obvious warnings): its about angst, (spoiler), fight, blood and (spoiler again). ok, raph had a fight with reader so he say bad things to her, so he listens music (ZAYN & Sia - Dusk Till Dawn) because he was sad and crying but she could never hate raph, so after raph… (I’m leaving this part out of the request so there’s not so many spoilers) ….so he goes to reader and they make up. (possible trigger warning in tags that I took out of this request; may have to expand tags to see it)

A/N: I actually don’t watch any of the TMNT series’ so I know nothing about Destructor X (I’m assuming that’s who you wanted as the villain. I had to look it up). So, I took the liberty of changing the villain to one I know a tiny, itty bitty bit more about. I sincerely apologize if this ruins it for you. Also, this is a first draft.

Disclaimer: I own no TMNT anything, nor do I know any NYC geography, song belongs to Zayn & Sia, and last - but not least - Nonny owns this lovely, specific request! Honestly, I could do SO MUCH with this and it was hard to choose how to go about it. Last thing, I promise: If anyone thinks of a better title, PLEASE SHARE IT cuz I am terrible at coming up with titles.

Word Count: 957

Raph shot up, heart thudding, and lungs gasping for air as his eyes adjusted to his bedside lamp light.

“Good. You’re up,” Leo stated as he walked by, looking ready for their nightly vigilante routine. “Time to go topside.”

“Can’t,” Raph quickly replied, his brain catching up with reality as he swiftly got out of bed and ran for the dojo, dodging his brother as he left his room.

It was a dream.

“You what?” Leo called after him. Raph could imagine the scrunched up, confused look on his brother’s face.

A nightmare.

“Got somethin’ I gotta do,'' he hollered without looking back. For once, Leo didn’t try to get the last word in.

A night terror, really.

Raph half expected pouring rain as he opened the manhole, but found the city dry. The cloudless sky was a balm to his raging soul, calming his still pounding heart. Once on a roof he could clearly see the sunset on the horizon and headed your way. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, heedless of anyone that could see him below. All he could think of was getting to you as fast as possible. He had to make sure you were okay. That you were safe and unharmed. Visions of the nightmare ran through his mind on repeat, causing him to stumble. If he stopped he didn’t think he would make it. If he stopped, Karai might get to you.

One last leap had him landing on your rooftop.

A couple of fire escapes down had him outside your bedroom.

He paused, unsure of where he stood with you after the argument that morning. Uncertain if you would even be home. He started pacing in the small space. Two, maybe three steps had him turning back around. Again and again he paced; back and forth, back and forth as his mind spun. What should he do? There was no way you would want him there.

He should’ve called.

Or texted.

Or someth-

“Raph?” Your voice, calm and curious, had him spinning to face you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is everything okay?” You asked, inwardly cringing at the tremor in your voice as you climbed through the window and onto the fire escape to join him. Raph only paced when he was worried or ranting, so the question was mostly out of politeness, giving him the choice to open up if he wanted.

“You’re okay,” he breathed out so quietly you thought maybe you weren’t meant to hear it, but you nodded in reply anyway as his frantic gaze looked you up and down, hands in fists. “You’re really okay.”

“Yeah,” a nervous giggle escaped with the word as you took a tentative step toward him, an arm reaching out from habit before you stopped yourself. You weren’t sure where you stood with him after the argument from earlier in the day and didn’t want to cross any lines there may now be between you two. “Are you okay? You look kinda shook up.”

“Yeah- I mean-” he sighed, sounding heavy and frustrated as his fists finally relaxed, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, looking unsure of himself - which was odd. “Look swee’heart, I’m sorry.” His hand fell to his side, but you barely noticed, focusing on the new pet name. ‘Shorty’, you had heard plenty of times. And ‘pipsqueak’. But never something so loving. Never something that made it seem like you guys were more. The thought had your heart pounding in your chest and suddenly you were worried that he could have super hearing and-

“For everything. I was a real jerk this morning- and look-” he leaned down to your eye level and gently grabbed your shoulders, bringing you back to the conversation. “You gotta promise me somthin’.”

When you stayed silent for a beat too long he shook you just enough to make sure you were paying attention.

“Promise me, (y/n).”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah. Anything.”

“If you eva - and I mean eva - get taken by The Foot or Karai or anybody who’s an enemy you gotta tell ‘em whateva they wanna know. Okay?”

“What?” Your face scrunched in confusion and you shook your head, wishing Raph’s heavy hands would let go so you could back away from this nonsense. “No,” you whispered out. If you ever got taken, which was unlikely in your mind, you wouldn’t dare betray the boys like that. “Why would I ever-”

“Please,” Raph pleaded, voice breaking. “I can’t- I need-” he choked out.

“Raph,” you said softly, heart beating frantically for whole new reasons as you slowly raised your hands to grip his wrists in comfort. For you or for him, you weren’t sure. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Nothin’,” he straightened up, breaking your hold on him, his eyes focusing on everything other than you. “I fell asleep, is all, and-”

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you,” you finished for him, taking a confident step forward. You settled a hand on his plastron, hoping it conveyed everything you’ve ever wanted to say to him. That you would never judge him. That you love how protective he is. That you would always be there for him. That you love him.

Your touch finally had him making eye contact with you, eyes begging and broken.

“I just gotta know your safe, swee’heart,” he said, eyes shuttering as he took a deep, calming breath. “I can’t live- I don’t know what I’d do if- please don’t hate me.”

You jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck, heart breaking at his words. “Raph, I could never hate you,” tears fell unbidden as you continued. “I love you.”

His return embrace calmed your pounding heart, answering the question you had always wished for but never let yourself think was possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Want to read more by me? Click here to see my masterlist!

#tmnt #writing #fanfic #raph #leo #raph x reader #emotions #no violence in this part

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mystifiicd · 2 years

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Some people found Stephen’s behavior to Christine in the movie extremely selfish. I somewhat disagree with that. She was basically one of the only things to anchor him. I don’t see how people can make it seem that he was in the wrong to ask why they didn’t work out or his soft side with 838 Christine, who also was struggling with loss of 838 Stephen. Hell, if I was Stephen, I wouldn’t even went to the wedding, let alone see the woman being in a life without that connection anymore. I think Dr. West’s comment really ate at him, all full of spite to Stephen because West lost his cats and brother. Basically a way to get back at Stephen, which is petty as hell. Stephen really doesn’t have too much support in his life. There’s Wong and Christine ( and he forgot Peter so yeah ). That’s basically it. He’s so bad at social connection, as like in the comics as well. ( Him being heartsick over Clea leaving him is also a point that I would loosely use here ).

And by the end of the movie, he said his peace and moved on for good. That he can open up to people and relationships. That people come and go. That it’s out of his hands sometimes, like with Mordo who was one of the first people to give Stephen a chance only later to turn to an antagonist. And learning, that it’s okay and that things like that happen. Also, he know that ‘getting the girl’ isn’t the only thing that can give him happiness. It’s like what Christine in the first movie said to him. That life has meaning without him being a surgeon anymore. But this time is letting one of his anchor’s go and moving on to find new people to form relationships with. Once again learning that it’s sometimes not about him. Sorry this was brought by a Stephen fan in the tag claiming to hate him in the movie. Makes me wonder if they are truly a fan of his to begin with. I bet if it was any other character, their story in this movie would be praised. Anyways, sorry for the long rant and analysis, but being a Stephen Strange fan is so exhausting sometimes. If people can defend Wanda, then it’s fair game to do the same with other characters.

#long post: tw #rant: tw #ds 2 spoilers;;#dsitmom spoilers;;#doctor strange in the multiverse of madness spoilers;;#doctor strange 2 spoilers;;#[ you're a wizard. a what?? OOC ]#death: tw

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fangedfaefreak · 2 years

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TW: Going to rant about Christianity for a hot second, fyi. I will be quoting verses. I just don’t want to put this on my main in case the guy I argued with sends his buddies after that account bc I really shouldn’t have argued but I did, so🤷🏻 Call me a chicken for blocking them, but I am already triggered and on edge and I’m not about to make it 20x worse. Religion is sooo fucky for us and I really don’t need to keep surrounding myself in that pile of garbage. Putting a read more bc I definitely get blasphemous and I know some religious trauma folks follow our sys account and could see this AND some Christians follow us there too. (I love you, I know you’re not like the ones that hurt us.) This post is made by Vivian, btw. Duh, it’s my account lol.

Got in an argument on main with a Christian🙄

“My book of fables that I often take as absolute truth and completely out of context despite it being written and mistranslated so many times it’s not funny AND I will only use the parts that will further MY agenda and ignore the rest. So here you go: witches are evil.”

Okay. But you wear cotton blend shirts, I’m sure? And have eaten shrimp?

And man, I sure know that Christians enjoy ritual prostitution! That’s literally considered ritually offensive! (Kings 14:23) Doesn’t stop them though! :))) Because why would it?

Not to mention in Christianity it literally says that the Old Testament, while it should still be considered, should not be followed. Rather, the New Testament should be followed. That’s why Christianity has the New Testament rather than just the Old like Jewish folks.

“But Vivi! The New Testament talks about witches too!”

Yeah, they sure do.

In Revelations 22:15 it says that witches will not receive eternal life. (Which…why the fuck would they care about the Christian eternal life anyway lmfao) “Outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.”

Weird, I sure know a lot of Christians who fall under that category^^ And yet they still preach and use their religion to get what they want. Fucking disgusting!

And this is not bashing on every single Christian ever, there are a lot of good Christians that don’t use their religion to push their own agenda, but it’s just so gross to see these people on tumblr of all places, especially since they tagged their original post as witchcraft rather than fucking Christian tags. Like I’m sorry I don’t wanna see that on my dash, you’re not going to magically convert me by calling me a heathen and saying I’m going to hell and that I have daddy issues.🙄 Get a grip on your fucking ego holy shit.

I can cherry-pick verses too. Easy peasy. We studied the Bible obsessively for years. Then we realized how fucked it all was and how much hatefulness comes from people misusing it. No thank you.

Gonna try to tag the religious trauma tags and tw tags but I’m turning off reblogs in case any assholes try to clown on this vent post.

-Vivi

#religion tw #religious tw #religious trauma tw #personal post #vivian #🦷#gonna avoid the x tian tags as much as possible because I don’t want to get shit on here either #do not interact #likes okay I don’t want comments though #this is a rant and a vent through and through

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frogtanii · 3 years

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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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fredshufflepuff · 3 years

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Hii :)

Could I request a Marauders x Reader where the Marauders spent a lot of time without her and she feels like they don’t love her anymore or like they are just using her for sex.

But with a happy ending :)

Have a great day !!!

always love you || r.l x j.p x s.b ✧˖*°࿐

summary: the boys have been ignoring you for the past few days, making you wonder what you did wrong.

a/n: my first marauders imagine, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

warnings: poly!relationship, fem!reader, pet names, little angst, mentions of sex BUT NO ACTUAL SEX, crying, lots of fluff, feeling sad??? man idk

word count: idk a lot of words. LMAO SORRY it’s 1,468

you sat at the gryffindor table with wondering eyes, trying to find where your boyfriends could be as you nibbled on a piece of toast.

they’d usually meet you at breakfast, remus being the first one up, followed by james and then some time later sirius.

but when they never came, your stomach dropped and your mood soured. this was the third time they’ve skipped out on breakfast, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe this was your fault.

the boys loved to eat, no matter how busy or stressed they were, they would always join you for a quick snack.

but not recently.

recently you’ve felt like they’ve been avoiding you.

it was a crazy and paranoid thought, but these past few days have just been proving your suspicion.

“james!” you called out, the speckled boy snapping his head towards you with wide eyes, he looked just like a dear in the headlights.

you made your way through the sea of students, pushing lightly past students to get to the boy.

“hi jamesie” you smiled once you finally got to him, your arms wrapping around his torso out of instinct.

“h-hi” he stutter out, your eyebrows knitting together at his voice change. james never stuttered, unless he was hiding something.

“what’s wrong?”

“i just, havetogo” he rushed out, your arms dropping from his waist as he spun on his heel and walked off.

now you really felt like shit. why was he so jumpy? why was he so nervous? especially around you.

you couldn’t help but think back to the last time you hung out with the boys, the three of them fucking you in a broom closet after classes.

your stomach seemed to sink, not flutter when you thought about your last interaction with them. usually you’d be flustered, a little giggly maybe, but you just felt disgusted.

did you do something wrong during that intimate moment? maybe you did something they didn’t like, or said something that turned them off.

oh my god, did you turn them off? were they no longer attracted to you? is that why james tensed up when you hugged him?

you hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt your face get wet, your hands quickly and aggressively wiping under your eyes.

you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, and decide right there and then that the boys didn’t love you anymore. but it was hard, hard to see anything other than that.

throughout the day you kept yourself busy, going to your dorm to eat and hiding in the library to do your work—not like anyone was looking for you anyways.

“i saw her go in just minutes ago!” sirius whisper shouted, the boys standing outside your door debating on what to do.

they saw you brush past them in the common room without saying a word, no kisses or hugs, no anything.

which was extremely unusual of you. you were always affectionate with them, asking them how their days were while cuddling them in bed, something the boys loved and always looked forward too.

“are you sure?” james asked, sirius thumping him up side the head with a scowl, “of course i am!”

“sirius! knock it off” remus scolded, your boys bickering back and forth with each other—only waking you from your nap.

“i’m going to go in, stay here and don’t kill each other.”

you quickly turned on your side and closed your eyes, pretending you were asleep to avoid any type of interaction.

the door creaked open slowly, making you cringe to yourself as footsteps entered the room.

“y/n? love, are you awake?” remus’s soft voice spoke, the door closing behind him as he made his way over to the bed.

“pup, i know when you’re sleeping” he said, the mattress dipping as a hand cupped the side of your face.

“i’m sleeping” you mumbled, sarcasm laced in your words as you turned to stuff your face in the pillow.

remus’s face twisted in confusion, surprised by your sudden attitude towards him. you never acted like that towards him. james? somethings if he got on your nerves but it was rare. sirius? all the time.

but you never dared to with remus. he was the more gentle and soft one of the three boys, always giving you the opportunity to explain yourself and tell him what’s going on.

“what’s the problem, pup? why the attitude?” he asked, not wanting his temper to get the best of him.

something was obviously bothering you, he needed to comfort you, not snap at you for the way you were talking to him.

“do you love me anymore?”

your voice was muffled by the pillow but remus could hear you clearly, his heart dropping as soon as those words had left your mouth.

“do i love you anymore?! of course i do, i’ve never stopped. what made you think i didn’t?”

his hand dropped to your arm, urging you to look at him. but when you did, his stomach dropped when he saw the tears clouding your glossy eyes.

“oh baby” he cooed, not wasting anytime in bringing you into a much needed hug, his warming embrace comforting you immediately, “don’t cry, darling. just tell me what’s been on that pretty little mind of yours, tell me how i can help.”

“you’ll think i’m stupid...” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest as wet tears stained his school shirt.

“you aren’t stupid, puppy. and neither are your feelings” he assured, his large hand resting on the small of your back while the other stroked your hair, something that always calmed you.

“i just...i-i thought you fell out of love with me because you’ve been avoiding me. not intentionally i guess, but james was definitely odd with me, l-like he didn’t want to be around m-me” your voice cracked, the thought of your boys not loving you back clouding your thoughts.

remus sighed lowly after your mini rant, your heart clenching as you couldn’t help but look up at him.

“w-what?” you asked, really not wanting to know what he had to say, as you only feared for the worst.

“james wants to be around you, everyone does. but i told him to stay away” he said, your eyebrows knitting together as your mouth opened slightly, but remus had cut you off, “you know jamesie can’t keep a secret for the life of him.”

“mhm” you nodded, “b-but what secret?”

“our anniversary is coming up—me, padfoot and prongs wanted to surprise you with a nice, relaxing dinner in the astronomy tower. i just didn’t want james accidentally ruining the surprise—but, i guess i just did that, didn’t i?” remus laughed to himself, his explanation making your heart swell but break at the same time.

they were planning a dinner for you? you felt like shit, instead of letting them do their thing without question, you assumed the worst. you assumed they didn’t love you anymore and were only using you for one thing, sex.

“i’m sorry, remus” you whispered, his eyes widening as he quickly comforted you. “no, pup. you have no reason to be sorry.”

“b-but i-”

“did nothing wrong. you had every right to get upset, i should’ve taped prongs mouth shut instead of keep him away” he said, half joking as you giggled stiffly.

“so...you aren’t mad?” you asked, your boyfriend tucking a piece of lose hair behind your ear before kissing the tip of your nose.

“i could never be mad at you, pup. i love you so much.”

“i love you too, remus” you smiled, cuddling into his chest as he hugged you tightly.

“can we come in now?”

“almost forgot about those knuckle heads” remus mumbled, another giggle leaving your lips as your two boys entered the room.

“everything okay in here, pup?” james asked, a pout on his face when he noticed the tears stained into your cheeks.

“now it is” you smiled assuringly, ushering for him to join you along with sirius.

“although i think you look hot covered in tears, i don’t like you feeling unloved” sirius said, speaking up as he sat next to you, his hand column to on your back.

“i never said unloved...just-”

“hey, it was only a few days” remus cut off, the pad of his thumb running under your eye softly, “but i promise you we’ll do everything for you to feel included. even if that involves planning a date for our girl.”

“which, just by the way, i didn’t spoil this time!” james pointed out, a smile on your face as remus shoved him playfully.

“you all owe me kisses from the last three days” you said, turning around in remus’s lap so you could toss your legs over sirius’s thighs, a warm smile on his face.

“we’ll do more than that, pup. don’t you worry.”

marauders tag list 🏷 @fjorelaant @drachoesimp @msmb @pinkandblueblurbs @roonilwazlibswhore @dlmmdl @dagirlintheback @onyourgoddamnleft @moonyinthelight @iamnibbsi @samineisntmyname @amourtentiaa @elizabethrosedarling @authorb @justasmolballofstress @persephonestoad @letmereadpls @escapingrealitybyreading

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

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@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

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