#I think they get married but it's not “traditional” or whatever the hell it's called | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laurfilijames · 2 months ago

Text

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #charlie hunnam #will miller x reader #will miller smut #will 'ironhead' miller #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam characters

184 notes · View notes

satoruwiki · 10 months ago

Note

Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)

omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…

͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol

n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.

Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.

Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.

Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.

Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.

Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).

Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.

Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.

Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)

Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk naoya #headcanon #jjk hcs #naoya x you #zenin naoya #naoya x reader #naoya zenin #naoya smut #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk zenin

698 notes · View notes

scriberye · 5 months ago

Text

🔞 Hunt

─────────────────────────── JAGO SEVATAR x GN!READER ⚠️🔞 Explicit Sexual Content, Predator/Prey, Violence, Blood It's a tradition on Nostramo for a groom to infiltrate and kidnap his future spouse from their family home. If he succeeds he's worthy, or he dies trying. a/n: Sevatar chases you around a ship. Good luck, Heretics!

You stand in the hangar bay of the 114th’s ship, trying to come to terms with what the hell just happened. Moments ago, Sevatar had announced over a ship-wide vox cast his intention to marry you. The next thing you knew, you were plucked from the Nightfall and transferred to another one of the smaller ships.

Tovac Tor, Captain of the 114st and the closest person Sevatar considered a friend, took it upon himself to act as your guardian, whatever that meant. “Stay close,” he orders you. “And follow me.”

You follow, taking the chance to look around the unfamiliar ship. Night Lords linger in the shadows, red lenses glinting and eager. There’s a strange lack of human crew, no lumbering servitors. They’re all strangely absent.

“Captain,” you call out, trying to get your ‘guardian’s’ attention. “Would you mind explaining this tradition to me?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Tovac hums thoughtfully, his pacing unchanging. He doesn’t even look back to acknowledge you. “It’s pretty simple. Sevatar is going to fight us to get to you, and if he wins you’ll be his cute little human spouse.”

“And if he doesn’t get to me?”

“He either succeeds or dies trying.” Tovac replies with a shrug, leading you onto the empty command deck. There’s not a soul here either, just the persistent hum of the ship’s system and flickering lights on the control panels.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” you ask.

“You’re full of questions.”

You shoot him a sour look. “Of course I am, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Backtalk. I see why he likes you,” Tovac remarks, a hint of amusement in his tone, adjusting the lightning claws on his gauntlets. “We moved them below deck. They’re not family so their participation is not required, and I can’t risk… collateral damage.”

That’s some relief. The crew is safe and not decorating some Night Lord’s armor.

Suddenly, the klaxons blare, signaling Sevatar’s arrival. You inch back, heart pounding, as Tovac takes a battle stance, energy crackling across his claws. His breathing quickens. You can see it in the way his armor moves. He’s excited.

The door slides open, and out from the shadows, Sevatar appears, blood still fresh on his armor. His chainglaive revs and snarls. A shiver runs down your spine. But those cold, dark eyes aren’t on you — they’re on Tovac, the last obstacle blocking him from getting to you.

“Run!” Tovac shouts, standing between you and Sevatar. You don’t need to be told twice. You turn and bolt from the command deck, escaping down another corridor with your heart pounding in your chest. The sound of their violent clash echoes behind you, fading as you get further away.

Your mind races, trying to think of what to do next. In your frantic searching, you find a storage room and dart inside, seeking a hiding spot. The room is cluttered with containers and equipment, and you squeeze yourself behind a stack of crates. There’s a maintenance hatch nearby, offering a potential escape route should you need it.

The door hisses open. Heavy ceramite footsteps echo in the room as he draws closer. They stop. Silence.

“You can’t hide from me,” he taunts you, his tone almost sing-song. “I will find you.”

And you know he’s right. Sevatar is relentless and you’re his favorite prey. Your breath catches as the footsteps come closer. You press yourself up against the wall, hands clamped over your mouth to stifle your breath.

The footsteps stop.

With a sudden, violent motion, Sevatar kicks the crate you’re hiding behind, sending it flying into others in a cacophony of noise.

“There you are,” Sevatar says. He towers over you, blood drip-drops from his armor onto the floor. He reaches up, releasing his helm with a hiss and tossing it aside, revealing the twisted smile on his handsome features. You bite your lip. He spots the hatch next to you.

“Oh, don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”

You slam your hand against the button, opening the hatch and throw yourself into the tunnel, scrambling to put as much distance between yourself and him. Sevatar reaches in after you, one massive hand feeling around as he reaches for you. He grabs your ankle in an ironclad grip and you let out a startled gasp.

He yanks you back through the hatch; you scream and claw at the metal for purchase, but to no avail. Sevatar tosses you onto the cold floor, and you push yourself up onto your hands, chest heaving.

“Jago…” you gasp, eyes wide. His eyes wander shamelessly over your body, hungry and possessive. His smile widens as looms over you, unlatching his codpiece and tossing it aside with a clatter.

His hands are on you in moments, ripping at your clothes and exposing your naked body to his gaze. You suppress a shudder as the cold gauntlets run up your legs, leaving angry red welts in their wake. You let out a small whimper. Sevatar squeezes the flesh of your thighs, forcing them open and up.

Sevatar looms over you, leaning down to press his cold-scarred lips against yours. It’s a shockingly tender kiss by Night Lord standards. But you fight back, not content to let Sevatar just have his win. You push against his chest, knowing full well that it’s futile against his size and the bulky armor.

You bite down on his lip — hard. The bitter tang of blood floods your mouth.

He recoils with a hiss. And to add insult to injury, you spit the blood out — it connects with his cheek, leaving a crimson streak. Oh. A dangerous glint ignites in Sevatar’s eyes, a delicious blend of predatory delight and dark amusement.

“Oh, little one, you are going to pay for that,” Sevatar says with a smirk. He rears back and grasps your waist, hauling you back and up onto his lap. You bite back the urge to moan, feeling the stiffness of his cock pressing against your thigh.

He forces the head of his cock into you, and slowly, painfully, sinks himself deeper into you. Each little thrust is deliberate and rough, making you feel every inch until you’re as full of him as your body will allow.

“O-oh! Fuck! Jago…!” you cry out, pushed the limits of where pain and pleasure mingle together. You grab onto his wrists, grounding yourself as you breathe through the overwhelming sensations.

“That’s it,” he says with a grin. “You’ll behave next time for your husband, won’t you?”

He starts to move inside you, his pace quickly becoming relentless and brutal. The storage room fills with the sound of heavy pants, and breathless gasps echoing off metallic walls. The crack and hum of his armor. Your torn clothes rustling. And the slap of skin as his hips pound into yours.

Sweat coats your skin, trickling down your forehead. Finally, it becomes unbearable; he pushes you over the edge, your body trembling and shaking as you cum with a cry of pleasure. Sevatar doesn’t stop though. He tightens his grip on your hips and jackhammers himself into you. With one final, brutal thrust, he stills, and a deep, satisfied groan echoes through the room as he fills you with his release.

Slowly, he pulls out of you and you collapse back onto the floor. The cold mingling with your sweat soaked skin and sending a chill through your spent body.

“Still with me, love?”

You hum weakly, lifting your hand enough in a half-hearted thumbs up. “That’s one way… to propose,” you say as your voice cracks, rough and strained from the screaming.

Sevatar laughs. He leans over you once again, kissing you again, and this time, you don’t bite him. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Let’s get you back to the Nightfall,” he murmurs, pecking your lips a few more times, “and I’ll drown you in the baths.”

Your laugh turns into a fit of coughing. Sevatar pulls away, your arms slipping from around him and he gazes at you in a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. He hunts down his missing codpiece and attaches it, before pulling his helm back over his head and sealing it with a hiss.

He returns to your side and scoops you into his arms. Exhausted, and a sticky, hot mess, you nestle in against him, soaking up the cold touch of his armor.

“If that was a traditional proposal, what’s a wedding look like?”

#warhammer #jago sevatarion #sevatar x reader #reader insert #wh30k

237 notes · View notes

wavesoutbeingtossed · 7 months ago

Text

To continue riffing on the marriage/tradition stuff because that’s one of the themes I’m obsessed with in her discography, it’s fascinating because it would be easy to reduce it to, “she’s adhering to patriarchal societal norms in chasing the traditional nuclear family and that’s why she throws herself into these relationships,” but it’s just so reductive to well, how human beings exist in the world. Just because it’s a societal pressure doesn’t mean some people don’t genuinely want to get married or have families.

Yes, she’s been singing about it right back to her first album when she as 16. Yes, her view on it has evolved, from marrying the sweet neighbor boy to the princess fairytale early on (debut/fearless), to the disillusionment that increasingly pushed it out of the narrative (speak now/red/1989), to slowly letting herself believe in forever again (rep), to seemingly actually committed (lover), to questioning what that means (folklore/evermore) to trying to reconcile what it means for her current life (midnights). Every relationship she experienced throughout those periods informed those views and how *she* pursued it.

I think what makes it so interesting on TTPD is that it is EVERYWHERE, as I mentioned in my previous post about it. And it’s unsettling because it’s not just in the setting we expect it to be — e.g. a long term partner she’d previously indicated she was ready to marry — but also in songs about a man who swooped in to save her when she was low only to break her apart, in thinly-veiled fantasies about strange bedfellow neighbours, another thinly-veiled story about marrying the person you want consequences be damned, in taunting your on again/off again partner in a bar (e.g. i want to smash your bike or be your wife).

And it’d be easy to chalk it up to, well she’s in her 30s and the clock is ticking, she’s just obsessive! And there’s a nugget there about women and their bodies and both the lauding and weaponization thereof and everything that personally I’m dying to talk about at some point. But when it comes down to it, I’m willing to bet that the reason why it’s everywhere is because THAT WAS HER LIFE. That was the plan she’d taken for granted for so long — and I don’t just mean in a general sense as a girl in the world — but in the very real, very tangible way she was living her life and in the circumstances that led to what would be written about in TTPD. By working out all these scenarios through her songs (and tbh in whatever she was doing IRL that inspired them), she was grappling with and grieving the loss of the life she thought was ahead of her. We’ve talked about how pervasive grief has been on her recent albums, in all kinds of forms, and I think this is kind of the culmination of all of those worries.

She’s not the girl with the paper ring and all’s well did not end well to end up with him. She’s not the girl who has his midnights after cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day. She couldn’t give him her wild or a child because it wasn’t enough. She may have even been the self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who is fucked in the head, but feels more like the one left out on the landing.

So in TTPD, she is all of these things. She’s the neglected wife whose husband cheats on her so she runs off with an old flame. She’s the one who gets the jewel on her ring finger and talks about babies because he says it’s love. She’s the woman whose partner once made a promise but never followed through. She’s the hell-raiser who follows love in a different kind of getaway car while the town calls her mad, consequences be damned, but joke’s on them because she gets the wedding in the end anyway. She’s the wife who feeds her cheating husband to the swamps of Florida. She gets swept off her feet by an old flame to run down the aisle. SHE’S the one who gets to decide if she’s gonna marry him or decimate him (be his wife or smash his bike). She’s the girl who didn’t become the wife while she watches the one that got away marry his. She’s the woman scorned who has to call the whole thing off. She’s the saucy girl who bets her new lover is gonna marry her for real. She’s sold off as chattel to the highest bidder in an arranged marriage. She’s the young girl starry-eyed with the dreams she grew up with only to have them go up in flames, leaving only her pen behind to turn it into art.

She navigates all these scenarios because in the end, she isn’t any of them and she is all of them. She’s mourning what she gave up, mourning what she’s already lost, mourning the time she feels she wasted and could have started over. She’s mourning any number of women she could have been if she’d just tried something else, but also mourning that ultimately much of this was out of her hands. She’s grappling with a past that can’t change and a future that doesn’t exist. Every one of these scenarios is a way her life could have gone with any number of different decisions, but in the end, none of that matters, because she is who she is and what happened happened.

Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the album; she’s not just processing the end of relationships, she’s processing her fame and career and health and harassment and trauma and struggles and misogyny and any number of things in frankly shocking ways. But, I think there’s also no denying that this very important thing — the step many young adults expect to take in their lives — precipitated a whole lot of what went on, and may have even had a domino effect on all the other issues explored. It’s raw and vulnerable and ugly and funny and human.

Anyway apparently I’m back and thinking.

#maybe i should not sleep more often #the tortured poets department #writing letters addressed to the fire

247 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 11 months ago

Text

First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly — always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air — earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #pure fluff #Christmas fic #all-American softie #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic

257 notes · View notes

softxsuki · 9 months ago

Note

hi!!! I saw your valentines letter event and wanted to request a little idea I had when I saw it! A prohero!katsuki and civilian fem!reader who are in an established relationship of a few years, maybe even married if it fits the plot better. He calls her “star” and is sending the letter from a foreign country while on a mission— maybe she gets it as a delivery with flowers.

The writing would consist of him admiring her little traits that she thinks go unnoticed, like a habit of her drawing little figures on notes she packs in his lunch. He’d be apologizing for not being there in person and wanting to make it up to her, he leaves a note to her at the end telling her to call him at a certain time, with a tiny drawing of his own.

idrk about a genre but like cute vibes that arent too cheesy😭🤞

-⭐️(idk if someone used that already🧍🏽‍♀️)

Bakugou's Love Letter To His Fiancée

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

Warnings: none? idk

Note: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you like your letter from Bakugou :)

It wasn’t easy being the fiancée of a pro hero. And moments like these were especially hard. Your soon to be husband and lover of several years was currently out of the country on an important mission.

It was torture trying to sleep at night wondering if he was okay or not. Contact was sparse since you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt him at an important time, so most of your conversations were made when he called you first.

Today was different though, it was Valentine’s Day. Walking through the streets and seeing all the couples walking hand in hand, all the ads on being in love, and countless vendors selling flowers and chocolates for people to buy and give to their significant other–it made you feel especially lonely.

Of course, Bakugou was never into these “idiotic” holiday traditions that he called a scam to get money from people, but every year he always gave in and treated you to dinner, taking the day to spend it with you, his love.

You sigh, walking past another couple walking with interlocked hands as the woman carries a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms. Right now you just wanted to be in Bakugou’s arms where he could hold you and whisper tender words in your ears in the privacy of your home–you missed him.

It was already the evening when you finally arrived back at your home for the day from work, trudging yourself up the stairs, but a package caught your eye. It was addressed to you, yet you couldn’t remember ordering anything for yourself.

You lift the box in your hands before looking at your surroundings like Bakuogu taught you, before opening the front door and entering your home. You lock the door before placing the box and your belongings on the kitchen counter, opening the box.

Inside is a beautiful bouquet of flowers along with a note that reads;

Y/N,

Happy Valentine’s Day, star. Can’t believe I’m doing this, but I walked past this flower shop during patrol in this country and these flowers reminded me of you. They kinda look like stars and coincidentally are called starflowers. Hopefully the shitty mail carriers listened to the fragile sticker on the box and they still look decent.

I’m sorry I can’t be there with you today, I’m sure you’re feeling lonely, hell…even I am and I don’t even like this stupid holiday or whatever. I miss your messages in my lunch along with those ridiculous drawings you add in. I miss waking up beside you and watching you rest peacefully before getting up for work, I miss having you in my arms. Dammit star, I miss you. I miss you like crazy, it’s taking everything in me not to just leave this mission to damn Deku and coming back home to you.

I want to make you my wife already, I want to be your husband, I want you. But I can't leave, not yet anyway. I’ll do what I can to get to you as soon as possible and I’ll make it up to you when I get back. We can go out and do whatever you want for the day, I’ll be all yours for the whole day with no interruptions, just say the word.

But for now, I hope those flowers make you feel at least a little loved. I love you…call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is, just call me. I’ll pick up. See you soon.

Kats.

You wipe the few tears that fell from your face after reading his letter, laughing a little at the small drawing he did at the bottom of the letter. His attempt at trying to draw for you like you always did for him. Cute. Who knew Bakugou could be so romantic? It was the first letter he had ever written you, and it was beautiful.

You quickly grab your phone and hit his contact name, giving him a call like he asked. After a few rings he picks up, sounding out of breath.

“Kats? Are you okay? Did I call at a bad time?”

“Nope, perfect timing actually, just finished working out. I guess the package arrived? Did you like it?”

“Of course I did,” I cry out, “I wasn’t expecting that at all. Thank you, it was a great surprise.”

He laughs on the other end, feeling proud of making his girl happy, going on and on about how you shouldn’t have expected anything less from him.

“Hmm and that drawing was cute as well,” you tease, and he starts grumbling on the other end of the line, muttering for you to hush.

As you spoke to him on the phone, you felt the loneliness slowly leave your body, it was nice to just talk to him like this even if you couldn’t be together. Hearing his voice was still comforting.

“Alright, I should probably head out, it’s nearing midnight now and I have the night patrol tonight, so I have to get going. You made sure to lock the door when you got in right?” He asks, the sound of him shuffling into his hero suit fills your ears.

“Of course I did. It’s locked and the alarm is on. Go be a hero,” you smile to yourself, “I love you. I’ll talk to you later”

“Good girl. I love you too, talk to you soon.”

And then the line went dead, your heart doing a little loop at his choice of words.

Though you couldn’t spend the day of love with your lover, you were glad that he thought of you and sent you something that made him think of you. It was definitely another Valentine’s Day you’d remember, but you couldn’t wait for him to finally return home so you could be in his arms again.

Posted: 2/14/2024

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #mha x you #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n

73 notes · View notes

ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

Text

Spending Thanksgiving with Matt 🍁 (Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

A/N: So I'm gonna confess right now that I'm from the UK and not American, but my flatmate is and she has been cooking up a Thanksgiving feast all day - so this is how I'm spending the holiday... writing safely on the couch, and staying out of the kitchen 😅 Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate!

Warnings: Faint smutty references, references to alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff, I think that's it.

Masterlist

You and Matt have had a variety of Thanksgivings together, each one completely different, so you don’t really have any set traditions.

It’s more about spending the day with the people you care about, even if for just an hour, so you can share your gratitude at having them in your life. Or that’s what you tell Matt when he tries to argue that he doesn’t see what’s so important about the holiday.

“But sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me, Matthew Murdock. I just want five minutes with you to eat some stupid Pumpkin Pie and pretend to be normal. Ok? Please? Else I’ll just have to come out on patrol with you so I can annoy you into coming home.”

Needless to say, Matt gives in pretty quickly once you start begging. So, you both make the promise to honour that, even if it’s late or if the world seems intent of getting in the way. You will at least get to spend some time together, being grateful and taking a moment to celebrate what you’ve built together.

That has led to some pretty interesting holidays together over the past few years.

For instance, you’ve had one Thanksgiving where you’ve been sat in his office working on an important case, eating whatever take-out you’ve been able to find that was still open during the holiday.

It was like so many other days you’d spent together but you make the best of it, with Foggy and Karen insisting you have the Macey’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on in the background on a laptop.

You also take it in turns to go around and list the things you’re grateful for between chunks of research - and you all have a lot to be thankful for.

Another Thanksgiving was spent at Foggy’s parents’, after they’d insisted on hosting you all at their shop.

You spent the day eating more food than you could possibly imagine and enjoying the Nelson family chaos.

Matt may have pretended not to be excited at the prospect of sharing the day with the Nelson clan, but you could see the way he lit up the entire time you were there. Hell, you thought he was about the explode with happiness when the youngest Nelsons decided to start clambering over him and telling them about school and their plans for Christmas that year.

Matt has always had a soft spot for children and you can’t wait to start a family of your own to spend the holiday with - something Foggy’s parents seemed to be encouraging too, considering how they clucked and fussed over their boys.

In fact, they lectured both Foggy and Matt on how they didn’t seem to be eating enough and that they needed to settle down and get married sooner rather than later.

“She’s a keeper, Matthew,” Mrs Nelson had teased, not too subtly. “You boys should both put rings on these gorgeous women. What are you waiting for?”

Thankfully, Matt and Foggy were saved from answering by the sounds of cursing coming from the kitchen as something began to smell a lot like it was burning.

“Ah, a lecture from my loving mother. Now it’s a true Nelson holiday,” Foggy had groaned, reaching for the nearest un-opened beer. He had been quick to hand one to you, Karen, and Marci as well. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you’d laughed, a chorus ringing out from the group of amazing human beings you now called yours.

The following year you made sure to host them at your place. Yep, your place. As in both you and Matt had decided to move in together and now shared the apartment you called home.

Somehow, by a divine miracle, Matt had managed to have the day off, not being caught in the middle of some crazy life or death situation that would steal him away. Instead, he had somehow taken on the role of sous-chef and was surprisingly talented at it.

You blamed his blood-hound like senses for telling him what the perfect amount of certain ingredients was, or when something was ready in the oven.

“You could use more sage in that - and oh, I think the pie is done.”

“Damn, Matt. You’ve been holding out on me. All this time I’ve been living with a gourmet chef and we’ve been living off take-out?”

Matt laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips by way of apology. “I’d hardly call myself gourmet, but I’ll take the compliment.”

There is clearly no end to his talents.

Speaking of talents, Matt soon tries to use his other talents as you’re both pressed together in the confines of the kitchen, weaving in and out of each other, hands brushing… hips bumping…

It takes a lot of self-control on your part to remind him you had guests coming in a matter of minutes.

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m just trying to show you have grateful I am for you. That’s the point of the holiday, right?” he purrs, his devious smile all too tempting.

“Well - as tempting as that is, and I swear if we hadn’t spent all morning preparing this dinner I would be dragging your ass over to bed - but you’re gonna have to save this show of gratitude for later, Matt.”

“Now who’s not being festive?”

You’re quick to swipe at him with the dish towel but he’s faster, saved by the knock at the door that announces your guests had finally arrived. He ducks past you, making for the door and hastily ushers everyone inside.

What follows is probably the best Thanksgiving you’ve ever had and the group photo Foggy insists on taking at the end of the night is soon framed and put pride-of-place on your bedside table.

You ate until your sides hurt. You drank until the bottles ran dry. You laughed until tears poured from your eyes.

By the time you and Matt actually do make it to bed that night you feel like you're floating.

"Thank you for today," he whispered, much to your surprise. You knew deep down he wasn't always the biggest fan of holidays, a lifetime of trauma and a never ending quest to protect his city had taken the sheen off of them long ago... or, it had, until he'd met you. Now, he could see the appeal of them. Of spending them celebrating with you.

You brought a light back into his life, as well as a reminder of what he was actually fighting for, and fighting to protect, every time he put on the mask.

"I love you... Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Matt."

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #marvel #marvel x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil x reader #thesilentmage #charlie cox #matthew murdock #foggy nelson #karen page #daredevil netflix #thanksgiving

108 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 1 year ago

Note

💌 anon…NOT talking about dottore??? yes but no he’s always gonna be mentioned bc i have some thoughts

but! it’s childe’s birthday. i think that man would 100% always be bringing his reader home to his parents, and if they were his childhood friend that would be even better 👀 (he definitely was the kind of kid to propose or be like ‘youre def gonna be my spouse in the future :)) u cant date anyone else!!!’ and he takes it SERIOUSLY).

on dottore…there was a trend going around on “fanart trope of you meeting your partners younger self” and we technically already have that with fragile reader! probably holding tiny zandy in their hands and clutching him close to read him something (to help keep their development sharp!) unless it gets painful but…dottore meeting younger reader (like akademiya reader) and just getting a little sad bc he misses his reader being able to do whatever they wanted freely. Even if that meant he had to get jealous because “how dare they set up reader with another lab partner for this project. theyre *my* lab partner for life” and for life it is :)

- 💌

💌 ANON BACK AGAIN WITH SUPERIOR TOP-TIER THOUGHTS!!

Ahhh yes 😫😫 Going to see Childe's family has become kind of a tradition for you, you go to them to celebrate the holidays, birthdays, or literally for no special reason at all, etc. Courtesy of Childe who always escorts you on the boat ride there, and is telling you the whole time how excited they are to see you and that they've missed you so much! (You saw them last month)

Omfg childhood friend Childe 💖 THE ANGST + FLUFF POTENTIAL... Going from little kids playing in the snow to when he falls in the Abyss and he starts acting way different and you get kind of pushed away when he joins the Fatui and you think he doesn't like you much anymore/doesn't remember that oath he made as kids...😶 But yea DEFINITELY It's very emphasized how Childe neverrr breaks promises so when he promises that to you, he's being 100% serious and he always fulfills his promises... Dw the Fatui is covering the costs for the wedding! Also consider: Childe + promise rings, I think he'd want to wait to marry you after a lot of the hardcore Fatui stuff dies down just for your safety so he gifts you that ring as a reminder to wait for him 💖💖

NOT U HITTING ME WITH THE DOT FLUFF TO ANGST... 😧 But omg... I can just imagine little Zandy sitting on fragile reader's lap as they read him a story! Well sometimes the story is a lengthy textbook but that's fine since you gotta keep your brain active sometimes!

For story purposes... let's just say an experiment went wrong... and Dottore suddenly sees the familiar grounds of the Akademiya in front of his very eyes, more specifically the library, and most importantly, you. You, who donned the familiar green, gold, and white hues of the Akademiya's uniform. You, who were hanging off a ladder looking for a book on the high shelves like it was no big deal. You, who were smiling and giggling even though you probably had a 20-page essay due before midnight. You, who looked so happy... just like how he remembered you. Ah, how many centuries ago that was. It seems even he must grow weak to time sometimes.

... And then his eyes travel down to some person calling for you. Who the hell is that? Why are you working with someone besides him? And then he thinks, this scene is probably from before he got to know you. But still...

He idly wonders if he killed that pest in the past, but he can't remember because he doesn't care about his irrelevant victims.

#smooches talks #💌 anon #fragile reader <3 #childe love notes <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #i need to write childe childhood crush eventually...#forever thank you to 🎐 anon for creating zandy ily🙏🫶#UGHHH DOTTORE ANGST HITS ME SO GOOODDD #i for one love dottore angst despite how terrible that sounds LMFAOO WAIT #i just loveee the idea of a cold unfeeling heartless guy somehow becoming sad #it's just so good bc u can see how much u mean to him that you managed to make him a guy who feels no remorse sad #tfw u cant use commas in the tags 😔

59 notes · View notes

shepherds-of-haven · 11 months ago

Note

I just played Chapter 8 and your worldbuilding was absolutely insanee, it's one of my favourite chapters so far. Could we also have Senua facts and lore, she was such a fascinating character.

Ah, that's so good to hear, I was hoping reception to Chapter 8 would be positive! 🥰 Thank you so much for your kind words!

As for Senua (I love her, she's a badass), I gave more details about here in the Q&A here, which I'll copy-paste below!

Could you tell us more about Senua? She's such a great character! I couldn't help but wonder when reading about her if she is, perchance, a distance ancestor of Red? (The irony in that would be amazing! Poor Red missing out on that adventure but actually being somewhat related to Senua? lol)

Yay, I'm so glad you liked her! I wondered if her character would be more divisive given all the shit she puts MC's party through, but I personally love her! XD Unfortunately, the "real" Senua never married or had children, so she's not related to Red! I imagine that she was the only child to commoner parents who didn't really have a strong Gift themselves (I'm getting the vibe that they were cloth merchants or something like that). Around the age of six, her unusually strong magic would have started manifesting itself, so after consulting with some local teachers, her parents decided to send her to the Mage academy Stavastre. Interestingly, I think she wouldn't have completed her education there, probably running away as a teen of seventeen before earning her graduation robes because she would have been frustrated by how stifling and traditional she felt the teaching style was; Senua was a pioneer and maverick even from a young age, and coupled with her enormous Gift, she would have insisted on experimenting with magic in ways that would have made her instructors extremely uneasy or disapproving. So probably in a fit of pique after failing another class or something like that, she ran off in a "fuck the system" rebel move and probably would have traveled around for a while, doing whatever the hell she wanted. I could see her working as a blacksmith's apprentice, a sailor on a merchant barge, a keeper at a menagerie--whatever captured her fancy! She was enormously inquisitive and her mind was hungry for everything: experiences, knowledge, meeting people, new sights and sounds, what have you.

Eventually, however, she would have settled a bit more in temperament and realized that her true calling lay with magic. Returning to Stavastre wouldn't have been an option (she was also quite hardheaded and prideful), but hearing about Archmage Tangriel and the things that Saenreth was pioneering (they would have been on the absolute frontier of magic), she would have been eager to join people she perceived to be more like herself (innovative, fearless, radical, revolutionary) and would have joined the Crystal Tournament in order to secure her entrance. Notably, she wouldn't have been part of an official delegation the same way the Adepts from other schools were, which would have made them treat her a bit coolly (this gets translated into how MC and their group feel as outsiders during their Crystal Tournament); if Senua was strong enough to enter the tournament essentially on her own and without the backing of a school, the others would have considered her a threat or would have looked down on her for being so unconventional. But she would have swept the competition, and you know the rest from there!

After she left Saenreth, I'm not sure what happened to Senua. If you find Archmage Tangriel's journal at the bottom of the Cave of Many Mouths, he includes a page addressing her and voices deep regrets over sending her away. A few years after she leaves, of course, is when he enters the reclusive part of his life and ultimately withdraws from the teaching and public life entirely, living in his tower with mostly only the companionship of his spirits and a few apprentices. The doors of Saenreth ultimately closed as a school, and it was some time later that the Archmage--in his experiments to perfect a method of translocation that didn't require you to have been to your destination before--vanished entirely.

As for Senua... we know she went to Armalenthieh, and it's my guess that she became an instructor there, with all the connections and resources and recommendations and accolades Tangriel would have provided her with. But probably the scandal of their rumored affair would have caught up with her even there, and she probably wouldn't have fit in as well as she could have among the staff there anyway, preferring to be left to her own devices and teaching only because it was required of her to keep her position. Although still strong-minded, she would have become more and more solitary as time went on, until one day someone discovered that her office was empty and that Senua had simply... left. The history books don't say what happened to her after that!

#Shepherds of Haven #Senua #chapter 8 #spoilers #heavy #alpha build #alpha preview

34 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 2 years ago

Note

destroyer chris and reader like cheers? maybe she ran away from a wedding and ends up at his bar

pairing: bar owner destroyer!chris x reader

She didn't know how she'd ended up here. She'd grown up happy, or at least, happy-ish. Her parents weren't rich but they weren't at the bottom of the feed chain, they'd help her get into an Ivy League school and somehow in the middle, they'd gotten distracted. They'd gotten distracted by having a daughter marry into a wealthy family, the lifestyle that came with old money and soon enough, she found herself trying to make a relationship work just to make her parents happy - after all, didn't her parents deserve this after doing so much for her? She didn't know, but just like she found herself trying to make a relationship work, she was now finding herself escaping from a window. She should've called it off, she should've stopped this the moment she noticed she didn't even like the dress or her fiancé for all that matter.

She didn't know where she was, she didn't know this place, this town, this city. It had all been picked to match a tradition which she didn't even understand and now she was walking across a dirt road trying to hail a taxi, even though she barely had money to get back home. She didn’t know when but at some point she began crying, she was cold, she was tired and all she wanted to go is go back home. Maybe her roommate could lend her some money so she could fly back home or she could come and pick her up. She just needed a phone, she just needed to find a phone to call her. After what felt like walking for miles, her feet numb from the white heels, she spotted a small biker bar and it seemed as if she reached oasis. However, once she stepped inside, it was if all eyes were on her.

- Look at that, Bill. - she heard a male voice followed by a whistle. - A pretty little bride.

- Come on, girlie, come seat with us.

She had stupidly thought that perhaps this bar would have a standing phone - at least they always do in movies. Yet again, perhaps it had been naive of hers to base of her safety on movie knowledge. She felt stupid, ridiculous that she didn’t thought about what to do if her plan A didn’t work.

- If you’re not gonna buy something, you gonna have to leave. - a man from behind the bar spoke up. She locked eyes with him and he honestly did not look like he would help her. In all honesty, he looked like the kind of man she would avoid on the street. His hair was shaved on the sides and his fingers covered in bulky silver rings, she would’ve definitely avoid him if this was any situation. - Hey, Diane Chambers, you listening to me?

She didn’t know why and once she felt the first warm tear roll down her cheeks, all she could feel is embarrassment, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop the tears from coming down. She’d gotten herself in a mess and she didn’t know what to do, she just wanted to go back to her flat, she just wanted to go back to the flat.

- Hey, come on, stop crying. - she hadn’t noticed that he’d crossed the bar to meet her. - Please, stop crying. You’re killing the mood and driving away costumers.

- I’m sorry. - she attempted to stop crying, but the tears were still running down her face and the hiccups were still present.

- Jesus, woman, your guy dumped you or something?

- I ran away and I thought that there would be a phone so I could call my roommate, I’m so sorry ...

- Didn’t think your plan through, did you?

- Didn’t you think about costumer service before taking a job here?

- This is my bar, doll. I can do whatever the heck I deem fit. Hell, I can put you outside if I want to.

- I just need to call my roommate and I’ll be out of your hair, not that you have much to begin with.

- I’ll do anything to see you out of my bar. - he grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans, handing it over to her. - Come on, I don’t want to see your and your horrible dress for much longer.

- Thank you.

Her roommate sounded too excited that her friend was no longer engaged, a bit too excited; yet Y/N couldn’t really complain. All she wanted was to run away from this place, to be somewhere else and even if that was Georgia’s run down car. She finished the call feeling slightly calmer than before. She just needed Georgia to come pick her up so she wouldn’t come back to that hellish wedding and make the worse mistake of her life.

- Here. - he placed a pint of Coke in front of her. - Your friend coming to pick you up?

- She said so but with New York traffic.

- I don’t think she’ll actually get here. Fucking storm going towards New York last I checked.

- Do you take pleasure in torturing me? Isn’t it enough that I’m in an awful wedding dress in a biker bar? Isn’t that enough?

- Could be worse. - he took his phone back. - I would start to try and look for a motel if I were you.

Chris, on the other hand, found himself entranced by the woman. Sure, the fact that she was wearing a white wedding dress that seemed to swallow her made her very noticeable - but there was something else he couldn’t put his finger on. The time passed, the customers started to leave but she remained there, staring at the frosted glass in front of her. The sun went down and she continued there, staring at her glass as the wind and the rain fell faster than before. Deep within her she knew the rude bartender was probably right and she was about to have to go outside in the pouring rain. The last customer left, the only two people remaining being her and the bartender.

- You want me to drop you at the motel? - he mumbled as he finished polishing some glasses. - It ain’t much but usually they have free bedrooms.

- I can’t. - she sighed. - I left my phone and my wallet at the bridal suite. Unless they accept a wedding dress as a form of payment, I am fucked.

- Didn’t think that exit through, did ya?

- Are you gonna keep telling me that? You think if I had thought anything through I would’ve gone ahead with this marriage?

- Fella can’t be that bad. Call him, I’m sure he’d let you crash in your bridal suite.

- He’s probably thinking about how he can sue me for running away from the wedding at this moment.

- You’re a pain, Diane Chambers. - he walked away from the bar, sitting in front of her. - Maybe you can make a pillow out of all that fabric.

- Thank you for your phone. - she got up. - I have to go and figure out where I’m staying until Georgia comes.

- You’re not gonna find anything close by. The motel is a 30 minute car-drive and it is pouring rain outside. Just stay here until your friend comes to pick you up.

- I don’t need your pity.

- Oh, doll, I don’t pity you. Spoiled rich girl ran away from her wedding? I’m laughing at you, yet at the same time, I don’t want ‘ya dying anywhere near my bar and bringing bad publicity.

- Bad publicity? To a biker bar? That’s rich.

- Offer is fading every second.

- I guess.

He guided her upstairs where a few doors were locked. She wondered if this had been a bed and breakfast before or if he had attempted to turn it into a bed and breakfast ad had quit. Whatever reason it was, she was happy to find a warm bed awaiting her, a soft place to land and forget that she was still wearing her wedding clothing.

- Thank you. - she mumbled. - I will pay you once I get my wallet.

- I seriously doubt it, doll. Anyway, we open at 6AM, you’ll probably hear it.

- That’s ok.

- Well ... - he puts his hands in his pockets. - Goodnight, Diane Chambers.

- My name’s Y/N. - she said. - I’d rather you call me Y/N.

- Chris. Anyway, my bedroom is two doors down the hall if you need me.

(...)

The day broke, yet she did not wake up with the sound of the glasses clinking and everyone cheering and drinking until she heard a knock on her door. She groaned, yawning as she got up from the pillow, her legs twisted in the fabric of her wedding dress as another knock was heard. God, was someone dying?

- Y/N. - a familiar voice had her slightly more alert. - There’s a jittery nightmare of a woman looking for you.

- Georgia! - she mumbled happily to herself, getting up from the bed and opening the door to see Chris standing there in a very low cut shirt. Low cut enough to make her cheeks heat. - Is it Georgia?

- Whoever it is, get her out my bar.

She rushed down the stairs to find her friend, looking confused and worried about where she was. Georgia had always been a indie bar sort of person, Y/N guessed a biker bar was not something she’d be interested in, unless she found someone attractive or interesting enough to keep her around.

- Oh god, you’re alive. - she rushed to hug her friend. - That dress is an absolute disgrace! I’m so glad I RSVP no to your wedding.

- If you’d gone you would’ve saved me the hassle.

- You know I hate your fiancé ... well, ex-fiancé now but don’t worry, I got a moving company to get whatever’s yours from his flat, and your bridesmaids got you your phone and wallet.

- Thanks, G. I’m sorry you had to drive down so early.

- Would’ve been here earlier if it wasn’t for shitty New York weather. Anyway, should we get going? We can get McDonalds on the way home.

- As long as you two are out of my bar. - Chris snickered from behind them. - Try not to run away from any more weddings, Diane Chambers.

- Who’s Diane Chambers? - Georgia turned towards Y/N.

- Nevermind. - Y/N sighed. - Thank you, Chris. Really, I’m really thankful.

- Whatever. - he mumbled.

(...)

Running a bar was easy, Chris found. It didn’t take much brain power as most customers were too drunk or too busy in their own thoughts to cause him any trouble. Days were the same and he was alright with it, he was alright with serving alcohol and peanuts and cleaning glasses. It was much better than his past position and despite bikers gathering a bad rep, they didn’t cause him that much trouble.

- Heard the little bride spent the night here. - Bill looked at him through his beer glass. - Did you have fun?

- Wouldn’t you like to know, Bill?

- Wouldn’t hurt ‘ya to sleep with a nice lady every once in a while.

- I gotta save all the ladies for you, Bill. - he smirked. - Besides, the last thing I need is a spoiled rich girl in my bed.

- That’s not very nice. - he turned towards the source of the voice to see her standing there. He almost didn’t recognise her not in her wedding dress. Instead of the copious amounts of lace and silk, she was dress in smart clothing, a tight black pencil skirt and a white see through blouse. Heck, Chris was almost sure he could smell her perfume and it was doing ... things to him. - You would be so lucky to a spoiled rich girl in your bed.

- It’s the little bride. - Bill turned around in his seat. - Came back from me, sweets?

- Drink your beer. - Chris rolled his eyes. - Diane Chambers, you clean up nice. Run away from a meeting this time?

- I came to pay you. - she took her wallet from her bag. - How much is it for the night?

- I don’t need your charity.

- It’s not charity. I’m paying you for your services.

- Well, I don’t need it. - he shrugged.

- I’d like another Coke then. - she sat down. - Would you like something, sir? I’m buying.

- You should come around more often. - Bill happily got another beer.

Chris wasn’t sure when it became part of his routine to see her in his bar every Friday night. She clearly didn’t fit, always walking in her smart clothing, looking like a sheep in a wolf’s den. The usual bikers had taken a liking to her, treating her like their daughter but Chris was yet to warm up to her. They were not similar, she was a lawyer at a prestigious law firm and he, well, he ran a bar.

- Why do you have so many bedrooms upstairs? - she asked as he finished cleaning up some glasses.

- Came with the place when I bought it.

- You could make a little bed and a breakfast. 30 minutes away from New York, people would like it.

- It’s in the middle of nowhere, little lawyer Diane.

- Would it kill you to call me Y/N?

- Yes, actually. - he shrugged. - Should you be heading back home?

- I guess maybe I should call you Sam Malone. You’re just as a much of an asshole. - she smiled.

- Ooo ... mean. - he chuckled. - Hanging out here is not gonna find you a new fiancé.

- Being this grumpy won’t find you a fiancée either.

- Don’t need a lady all up on my business.

- If I didn’t know you better, I’d say someone broke your non-existent heart.

He placed a glass back on the shelf in a rather forceful manner, ignoring her. Y/N furrowed her brows, looking around the empty bar and wondering if she’d hit a soft spot.

- Who broke your heart? - she asked, softly this time.

- I thought you said I had a non-existent heart, Y/N.

- Y/N? Wow, I must’ve hit a really painful spot for you to call me by my name. - she attempted to lightened the mood but it didn’t work. Instead, he continued drying and polishing his glasses. - I’m sorry if I hurt you, Chris. I didn’t mean to.

- My fianceé took a page from your book and ran away from our wedding.

- Oh ...

- With my best friend. Got the money from the wedding refunds and the deposit from the house and bought this bar. Trust me, I don’t need a lady all up in my business, specially if they all run away at weddings.

- Is that why you were rude to me when I first came here?

- Don’t be over conceited. I was rude to you because you get in my nerves.

- Well, I can’t get that much on your nerves if you offered me to stay and still let me drink here.

- The only reason I let you drink here is because Bill likes you around.

- Sure. - she got up from her seat, picking her bag. - Well, goodnight, Chris.

- Diane? - he called up to her. - You coming next week?

- I don’t know. - she smirked. - Maybe.

- Don’t be a pain and arrive 5 minutes before closure or I’ll throw you off one day.

- Goodnight, Chris.

- Goodnight, Y/N.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #destroyer!chris #au!sebastian stan

127 notes · View notes

frogs-with-tea · 10 months ago

Note

I think the One Piece Sound idea is Galaxy-brained. It has so much potential! The setting can be so rich, both in scenery and emotion: they’re all seeing the water and the sky and the forest all the time, but they all grew up there and they’re kinda stuck there so they don’t notice the beauty unless something brings their attention to it. And the potential for the characters! The main crew are 20-somethings living in a tourist trap - the older adults are going to consider their minimum-wage dead-end jobs (or lack thereof, looking at Luffy, king of the bums as far as they’re concerned) to be a sign of their laziness or whatever.

I’d like to think that Nami runs scams on the boardwalk to fleece tourists as legally as possible. She supports Luffy’s search for the One Piece bc she wants to be rich and famous.

I’d like to think Luffy is the goofy guy selling t-shirts out of Usopp’s van with absolutely incredible good luck (no matter what happens, he always bounces back). He’s always at every single one of Zoro’s kendo tournaments: he was the only person cheering Zoro on at Zoro’s first competition, where he foolishly challenged the current champion and got his ass beat to hell. Zoro calls him captain as an inside joke between them; they were friends first out of the group and they are each others ride-or-die. Everybody thinks Luffy is just a childlike dumbass until Luffy sets out to challenge and take down cruelty and greed in the town.

Since he was young, Sanji wanted to go to culinary school but he’s afraid to leave the town: ‘Zeff needs me, the restaurant needs me’. (‘If I leave, the Vinsmokes will find me’) After Zoro gets pregnant, Zeff is on Sanji’s ass constantly about mating/marrying the Cactus. Zeff’s views are a little old fashioned but his heart is in the right place. Sanji has the self-esteem of a flea so he’s really conflicted about it. When he finds out that people are looking down on Zoro bc he got knocked up by ‘just a line cook’ he goes nuclear (I’m thinking about a parallel between this mis-characterization of him and his bounty posters in canon being caricatures of him)

Usopp runs a “Ghost Tour!” that is 200% bullshit and he changes up the locations and stories every couple months. It is the highest-rated attraction on Trip Advisor for the town.

Robin works at the library and she’s got an extremely morbid sense of humor, which terrifies Luffy/Usopp/Chopper BUT she’s doing a lot of the reading research on the treasure and she helps in the search a lot.

Anyway, all of this is to say I think you’ve got a really winning concept on your hands and I wish you all the luck and energy to see it through!

Hey there!! It makes me really excited to hear that you're so passionate about my AU ideas!! I've actually laid out a lot of my ideas on my personal blog @spock-smokes-weed, all under the tag #one piece sound au.

My ideas for Nami and Usopp is that they would be the ones experiencing the most "my life is in a rut" type feelings since they don't have much outside of work and the straw hats. Nami works at a bait shop with her sister, cus I thought it would be fun to position Nami in the old-school economy of the town, fishing. I thought it would be a fun setting for Nami cus she's both a getting dirty with her hands kind of person and a girly girl. With Usopp, in my mind, he's that one friend who's always bouncing from job to job. If this AU is about early 20s eunni, then we all have a friend that can't seem to find a job that makes them happy or they can tolerate. Usopp is an artist at heart and a big personality, I think he'd find it hard to get fulfillment bussing tables or washing cars.

Luffy is pretty straightforward. Living in his van with his dog (Chopper), being a menace to society.

And honestly, I don't see Zeff being the traditional type at all or would give Sanji any grief about marrying Zoro. Since he exclusively hires ex-cons to work on his staff, and already has a non-traditional family with Sanji, I can't see him thinking marriage would solve any issues between Sanji and Zoro. Zeff is a big feature in the story and Sanji's biggest pillar of support, but his advice mainly comes down to "just do the right thing and take responsibility." He just wants Sanji to step up as a father and not run out like Judge did to him. Sanji doesn't react to Zoro being pregnant well (at first. he's terrified of being a father, and that causes him to lash out) and Zeff very much gives him some tough love about stepping up and taking responsibility for his actions.

And for a note about the Vinsmokes, with this AU I'm not looking for a pure 1:1 with canon. So they might be evil royalty in canon, but since I'm taking inspiration from slice-of-life, I'd rather refit them to fit tropes from that genre. I have two posts on Judge specifically and my ideas for his roll in the story, but the TL;DR is that he's a narcissistic deadbeat who only resurfaces in Sanji's life to take advantage of him and ask for money.

As for the other straw hats, I have a post here about where I think they'd fit into the town.

Also, I have a post about Zoro's focus of the story, mainly being his battle with his strength and masculinity and his struggle with the judgment he gets from the town around him.

This was all super long but I just get so excited when ppl say they like my au and all I want to do is share all the ideas I have cataloged (both on here and in my brain)

#ask box #non art #one piece #one piece sound au #sorry it took me a min to get to this '#you can only do embedded links on desk top and i was at work all day

9 notes · View notes

pickledpascal · 1 year ago

Text

Lover

Chapter Two: You Need to Calm Down

Warnings: was meant to be fluff kind of turned into a whump, drunk jensen/nesnej, sexual themes/jokes

Word Count: 3.7k

Lover Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Jensen never thought he'd have a bachelor party again. Well, to be fair, he never thought he'd be getting married again. And like most marriage traditions, a bachelor party was needed. However, he drew the line at strip clubs. Not only did he not need Avery thinking he was cheating on her in some capacity but Jensen truly had no desire to even look at other women besides his fiancée.

So, as Jensen's best man, Misha simply treated him to a hole-in-the-wall bar so he could get drunk out of his mind. Strangely, it was the same one Jensen came to with Avery. Andrés was manning the bar again.

About an hour into their little endeavor, Misha started to notice Nesnej was coming out. Jensen had been downing shots with Misha's encouragement while Josh and Mercer simply watched, amused. Whatever was in them—it was a tequila but Misha didn't know what kind—was strong because Jensen wasn't a lightweight. When he said he could drink like Dean, he wasn't lying.

Eventually, Jensen made his way onto the dancefloor where Rich and Rob were. They weren't exactly dancing, just talking with each other with a bit of a sway in their step so Jensen decided to join them. He stumbled a bit as he danced, not horribly, not enough for Misha or the rest of the guys to be concerned for him.

Then a song came on. Back On 74 by Jungle. Jensen's lip began to quiver. "Avery listens to this…" He started getting choked up, tears welling at the edges of his eyes.

"Woah, Jensen, buddy, what's up?" Rob patted his back when he noticed he looked sad. Not just sad. Devastated. "You alright?"

Jensen wiped at his eyes a little and shook his head. "I miss my wife," He whined in a light slur. "I wanna see her." Something about him being drunk made him feel sappy and immensely sad he was nowhere near his fiancée. "Can we go see her?"

"No, bud, I don't think we can." Rob said as gently as possible, rubbing his shoulder slightly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jensen broke down crying. His shoulder started to shake with his sobs and he almost dropped to his knees before Rob and Rich held onto him to keep him on his feet.

Misha came rushing over with Jacob and Josh behind him. "Woah, what the hell happened?" The bar was crowded enough they didn't bat an eye at a grown man breaking down crying.

"I want my wife." Jensen pouted, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

Misha swallowed. He didn’t want this night to be ruined just because Jensen was bawling his eyes out about how he couldn’t be near Avery. "Okay, uh, yeah. We can take you to her."

Like a switch, Jensen's eyes lit up. "Really?" He took a breath.

Jacob looked at Misha weirdly. The older man motioned for him to call his sister. Jacob pursed his lips and then sighed as he tried to find a more quiet place in the bar.

When Avery picked up the phone, it was after a couple tried and Jacob could hear a Beyoncé song on the other line. It was more muffled than he expected. She had to be in the bathroom or something. "Wassup, kid, having too much fun?" She asked. He could hear the smirk in her voice.

Avery and her friends were at a queer bar. It was Drag Race night so there were a lot of popular queens. Jacob couldn't blame her for not picking up at the first ring or even the third.

"Jensen's having… a moment," Jacob said, glancing back at Jensen. He looked to be on the verge of tears again.

Jacob could hear Avery shifting her phone to her other ear. "What kind of moment?"

"Well, uh," Jensen had made his way to the bar top with the help of Josh and Rob. Rich and Josh switched places. "Can we come to you? You'll be able to see."

"Woah, okay." He could hear the surprise in her voice. "Yeah, sure. But, um… can you tell me what's going on?"

Jacob shook his head with a laugh as he watched Jensen sob on Misha's shoulder. "He misses you. A lot."

Avery got off the phone with her brother a little after that and went back into the club. They had a booth near the stage. No one was up there at the moment, needing a little time between performers which gave a lot of other queers in the club a chance to dance.

"What happened?" Elena asked, taking a sip from a cherry-flavored mocktail.

"Jensen got royally hammered. And apparently was begging to see me to the point he started crying." Avery explained as she slipped back into the booth. She took a sip from her drink.

Tessa started laughing, shaking her head. She didn't imagine Jensen was that whipped on Avery but, then again, there were no words for the magnitude of how much Jensen was in love with her.

After a few minutes of talking among her friends, Avery spotted Jensen and the guys walking through the door. He was stumbling and mainly relied on Misha to stand upright. She had to stifle a laugh. Her first full glimpse of Nesnej. She'd seen glimpses of him almost tipsy but not to this extent.

As Jensen and Misha made their way to their booth, Jensen's eyes widened at the sight of Avery. "Who's that?" She could hear him whisper to Misha. Avery was surprised Jensen got this drunk. Enough for him to forget they were in a relationship. "Are you single?" He rasped.

"Uh, no. Not exactly." Avery answered, an amused smile on her lips.

Jensen's eyes started leaking with tears again. "You're not?" He sniffled, not even trying to fight the tears. Jay and Elena had a fit of giggles while Tessa threw her head back in a full laugh. Their other two friends, Maddie and Mackenzie were trying their hardest not to laugh.

"Yeah… I got a finacée." Avery smiled softly as Misha let Jensen fall into the booth next to her. "He's pretty cute," She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Jensen involuntarily pushed his face into her shoulder, taking a deep breath of her body wash. She always smelled nice. This time, similar to how he would imagine a cactus fruit would smell. "Has the most gorgeous green eyes, symmetrical freckles, a nice beard." Avery brushed her knuckles against Jensen's jaw, feeling the scratchiness of his beard.

Jensen lifted his head. His brain took a moment to fully boot up as he thought about who that could be. "Is he… me?"

Avery chuckled and nodded. Jensen's eyes widened before he dove in for a kiss. Avery could taste the tequila on his lips. The kiss itself was sloppy and haphazard, bad enough that Avery had to pull away and wipe her mouth. He frowned at her, burying his head back in her shoulder.

"It's weird to see him so cuddly. Not to say he wasn't already but this is different." Mackenzie whispered to Tessa.

Elena heard and nodded at them. "Imagine having to basically live with them."

"Oh, yeah, they're insufferable sometimes." Jay agreed, shaking their head. "Oh, Avery I love you ever so much! I'm gonna take your cock so far down my throat!" They mocked, grabbing onto Elena as if she were Avery.

Tessa snorted, shaking her head while Mackenzie's mouth hung open. She was shocked but amused nonetheless.

Avery stared at them, giving them a death glare before her attention was captured by the lights in the club dimming. The stage was lit and out came Sasha Colby. Avery's eyes widened. She came out wearing some sort of jeweled bra and panty set that hugged her figure in all the right ways. Her hair was a fiery ginger color, long enough that it stopped just above her lower back.

Sasha Colby was one of Avery's first queer crushes. She partly blamed it on the fact that Sasha was a trans girl too.

Feeling compelled, Avery climbed over Jensen to get a spot nearer to the stage. The man went to stand to follow her, reaching a hand out but was immediately pushed back down by Josh's hand. "You can barely stand, man." He then motioned for Mackenzie to grab some water for their brother. She nodded and went to the bar.

Jensen pouted as he watched Avery have a religious experience. He wanted to be the object of her affection. All the time. He wanted her touch, gentle and careful across his skin. The way her thumb brushed against his cheek, tracing his freckles. Or how she'd hook her finger under his chin for a kiss. It was able to bring out parts of him he hadn't thought were possible before.

Seemingly, Sasha noticed her immediately among the other queers in the front of her. All of them were screaming and clamoring for her attention while she danced. Sasha touched Avery's face, lip-syncing straight to her.

Taste me, drink my soul

Show me all the things that I shouldn't know

When there's a blue moon on the rise

It felt like everything and everyone else had just melted away. And then Sasha planted a kiss to Avery's forehead and, just like that, she was gone. Onto the rest of the performance. Avery's knees felt weak and she tried her best to keep herself standing. Religious experience? More like she reached Nirvana and her spirit was taken out of her body before it was thrust back inside.

—---

Dealing with a drunk Jensen proved to be a lot. Avery was glad Elena had driven and was sober so they could be driven home. Jensen had his hands all over Avery on the drive back to their apartment as well as on the elevator ride. He tried kissing at her neck once they were inside their apartment but his coordination was off to the point Avery could easily push him off.

"C'mon, honey, you need a bath." Avery hoisted Jensen up, holding his waist against her side as she guided him into the bathroom. For quite the big guy, he was slippery when he wanted to be.

Jensen pouted. "Sweetheart," He whined as Avery set him on the closed toilet seat. "I don't need a bath."

"You smell like tequila and you need to get a little sober before bed." Avery countered, brushing a hand through his hair which he immediately leaned into. Was she like this when she was drunk? Jensen hadn't said much about her little stunt at graduation, just that he helped her into bed for the night. "Now, I'm gonna run the water then help you get undressed. Okay?"

Jensen bit the inside of his cheek with disappointment but nodded. "You're so pretty…" He sighed, watching as Avery rolled up her sleeves and twisted the knob on the shower.

Avery couldn't help the smile that made it onto her lips. Years ago—maybe even just last year—hearing that from Jensen would've made her collapse. She turned to face Jensen again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, cupping his face. "You're pretty, too." She started to slide her hands down to the buttons of his shirt and began to undo them.

"You think so?" Jensen's voice wasn't teasing, it was fond and a bit hopeful. Something about what happened back at the club made his drunk mind jealous. Jealous that Avery would rather be with Sasha than him.

Avery stopped fiddling with the buttons once they were all undone. "Of course I do." She looked into his eyes, seeing something she didn't like. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I-I dunno," Jensen glanced down at his lap, his voice shaky. He tried to push whatever he felt down but he felt another wave of tears coming on. Avery tilted his head up to look at her and he crumbled. "W-Would you rather be with a girl than me?"

Avery blinked. Maybe she was a bit too into Sasha but it was Sasha Colby. She couldn't help the way she felt in the moment but that was nothing compared to what she felt every day with Jensen. "No, no, no, Jensen. Of course not. I like girls and I like Sasha but I don't know her. Not like I know you." Avery caressed Jensen's cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "You're special to me, honey. You're so sweet and gentle like… I don't know, a bear or something. You're beautiful, too. I love you so much. So much. Sometimes I feel like my chest might explode." She admitted softly, pursing her lips.

"Look at me, please," Avery whispered. Jensen complied. His eyes fluttered open to meet hers, jaw clenching slightly. "You know I love you, right? I was just a bit starstruck. You are the only person I want to get married to. The only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. You being a guy or girl doesn't fucking matter. You know that?"

Jensen swallowed thickly and nodded. He knew that but there was a part of him, the sober him that wondered that very thing from time to time. But it was put to rest. Avery frowned as she pulled him close, holding the back of his head. He breathed her in, wrapping his arms around her body as he squeezed her tight.

"I know," Jensen sighed softly, more as confirmation to himself. "I know."

Avery pulled away slightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Help me get your clothes off?" She asked gently as Jensen let her go. "You'll feel a lot better when you're clean and in bed."

Jensen gave her a nod as he pushed his shirt off his shoulders while Avery unbuckled his pants and pushed them off. She left him to take off his socks and boxers while she felt for the temperature of the water. A crisp, warm temperature. Exactly what Jensen needed.

"You want any bath bombs or anything?" Avery glanced behind her. She had a few underneath the sink but she couldn't recall exactly where they were.

"No," Jensen murmured as he stepped inside the tub and sat down. Avery held a hand out in case he accidentally tripped. But he seemed to slowly be coming back into a normal headspace. "Well… maybe." He admitted. "Uh, honey and saguaro is nice."

Avery's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She didn't have a honey and saguaro bath bomb or bath salts. Then she saw the body wash sitting on the side of the tub opposite to her. Her body wash. Specifically, the one she used today. She smiled softly. Jensen wanted to smell like her.

"Okay, how about I shampoo and condition your hair first then body wash? Hm?" Avery leaned over the side of the tub and gave Jensen a small smile.

Jensen tipped his head in her direction and stared at her. "Yeah, okay." The idea of her hands in his hair sounded amazing and his tone reflected that.

He adjusted his position in the tub so Avery could massage the shampoo into his hair. Yet again, Jensen chose Avery's shampoo instead of his own. She'd run out of it every few months because of the length of her hair so she'd change up the scent. This time it was sweet peach and nectar. Before that, it was citrus and herbal musk. They never smelled particularly masculine or feminine. They just smelled nice. A lot better than whatever he bought. Overly manly with notes of bourbon and firewood. Jensen couldn't remember the name of it.

He needed to switch over to Avery's brand. Nearly every hygiene product she owned was from the same company. Shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, sunscreen, facial cleanser—hell, even her toothpaste.

"I love you." Jensen mumbled as Avery washed the shampoo out of his hair. She grabbed the removable shower head and tried to make sure there wasn't a drop left of foam. The touch calmed him, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Avery set the shower head back in its place and pressed a kiss to Jensen's cheek. "I love you too."

Jensen lifted an arm out of the tub and cupped her cheek. "You're so…" He tried to think of the right words. "Beautiful. Patient. Loving…" That sounded about right. "I can't imagine life without you anymore." He breathed.

Avery pressed a kiss to Jensen's palm, grabbing his arm to set it back down. "Me neither." She began to work her conditioner into his hair.

The massage felt pretty nice. Not as good as when it was on his scalp but Avery was adamant about conditioner only going on the end of a person's hair, not all over. Jensen couldn't argue, he did the same thing. And was a little too drunk to argue anyway.

"I don't understand," Jensen mumbled.

"Understand what?" Avery asked softly, letting the conditioner sit for a few minutes.

Jensen glanced at Avery. "Why do you treat me… like this? Like…" He pursed his lips. That intoxicated brain of his was opening up but it was also hard for him to speak properly or even think of any words longer than a couple of letters. "L-Like I'm delicate. Like I-I need to be pampered." It wasn't a bad thing by any means but Jensen hadn't had a relationship like that before. Where, in most intimate cases, he was the one getting spoiled. Getting shown so much love that he didn't know what to do with it.

"I think you deserve it." Avery shrugged. "And, I dunno, I guess I like doing it." It was that simple.

She liked doing it. Jensen pushed the palm of his hand to his nose as he sniffled. "I'm just crying a lot tonight, huh?" He tried to joke. His brain was a little fuzzy from before but something in his body knew this wasn't the first time.

"It's good to let go sometimes." Avery hummed, leaning her head against Jensen's. She didn't care that he was wet, just that he felt some semblance of comfort. "Crying is a release. I mean, I think we all deserve a good cry every now and then."

Jensen chuckled softly, the water sloshing slightly as his body moved with the laugh. "You're weirdly wise for someone so young." Sometimes, Jensen thought this was all fate. That he was going to learn more about life and himself from someone so much younger than him.

Avery had lived such an interesting and, quite frankly, scarring life in such a small amount of time, and yet she was more or less unscathed. She had her moments. Moments of breaking down and crying and wondering why she couldn't have parents who loved her. Parents who, at the very least, thought she was wonderful. Maybe then she would've been good enough. But then she'd take a look around at the life she built. All by herself. Elena, Jacob, Nate, Mercer, Jay, and Sammy were her family. No one else was. They made her life complete.

And then Jensen appeared in her life and made that little family a little bigger. A lot bigger. Now Avery had Misha, Felicia, Ruth, Rob, and Rich.

After Jensen was properly cleaned and dressed, Avery set him in bed. He was surprised when she was able to pick him up in the first place. That muscle wasn't just for show apparently. She lifted the covers over Jensen's body and smiled a little when he grabbed one of her fluffier blankets to have as well. He looked up at Avery as she got undressed for the night.

"You're way too adorable to be forty-five." Avery commented as she got in bed next to Jensen. His hair was dry but it stuck up in all different directions, adding to her comment.

Jensen pushed his face into her chest, appreciating the extra cushion for his head. "Thanks." Avery let out a laugh as she wrapped her arms around him. He had quite the night and she wouldn't deny him some extra comfort.

Minutes passed before Jensen spoke up again. Avery thought he'd gone to sleep since his breathing slowed but maybe he was just calm. "I can't believe I'm marrying you." He mumbled. Avery couldn't either. "You're the first person who I'd ever… After the divorce." Instead of alcohol, his brain got fuzzy from sleep.

"I know, honey. I know." Avery pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

She knew some details of Jensen's divorce but not many. Just that they settled on it together and that he had quite a hard time finding anyone afterward—she knew that from Misha. He was strictly single for two years—as far as Avery knew, Jensen hadn't had any one-night stands or flings—before they met. She also knew that time was a bit hard for Jensen. He had Danneel nearly every day of his life for years and that was suddenly just gone.

Avery hadn't had a romantic relationship that lasted that long before but she imagined how it would feel if Elena and her just stopped being friends all of a sudden. She'd miss her. Miss the kind of relationship she had with her and feel like she'd never have anything like that again.

But Jensen met her. And everything felt okay again. More than okay. It was amazing.

"I can't believe it either." Avery whispered, looking up at the ceiling. Her life looked drastically different. More in the past few months than the last few years. And not all of it was due to Jensen.

Well, a lot of it. Her book sales were steady because he phoned in quite a few friends.

Jensen nuzzled underneath Avery's jaw. "You're gonna be my wife." He said it in a dreamy tone that made her heart flutter. Then it'd be true when he said it to someone else rather than a slip of his tongue.

"And you're gonna be my husband." Avery brushed her hand through his hair. It was still a little damp.

"Yeah." Jensen sighed happily.

------

taglist: @nancymcl

taglist open here !!

13 notes · View notes