#Nosy is getting his cards read

[kiwiplaetzchen]

*A Ravenclaw student with a hood over their head crouches in front of Nosy. They get out a bunch of similar looking rectangle pieces of parchment that barely fit in their hands. They start shuffling them.*

Shall we see what is in store for you today?

*They place two "cards" in front of the niffler, face down. And wait.*

Nosy looked the hooded figure up and down. They didn't seem particularly dangerous. Or even interesting at that. What was it that they were placing in front of Nosy? Paper? Nosy made a dubious expression.

Paper.

Really? For him, the Teal King? What a weird offering.

With a dramatic sigh, Nosy looked slightly disappointed and bored. He eyed the two cards placed before him and decided to take the right one, trying to throw it at the Ravenclaw. But the card didn’t have enough weight to achieve Nosy's desired effect and simply glided back to his feet, revealing the other side.

Nosy's eyes began to gleam. The little menace would always recognise this beautiful, shiny, shimmering light. Fire!

In a flash, Nosy snatched the card, turning his back to the hooded figure to admire it. So shiny. So captivating. The Niffler forgot everything else around him, lost in the mesmerising beauty of the shimmering card.

[remi-thirsts]

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?

pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world) content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc) wc: 1.4k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.

"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.

"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.

"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,

"What is your favorite position?"

Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.

"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"

"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.

"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.

Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.

"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.

"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'

"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.

"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."

"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.

"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.

-----

You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.

When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.

He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.

"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.

"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."

That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.

It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.

"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.

"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.

"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.

Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.

"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.

"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.

"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.

The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.

"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.

"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.

"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.

"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.

A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.

Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.

The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.

"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.

"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.

"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"

Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."

More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.

divider: @/plutism

[kenobers]

Jason Todd Headcanons

just a few thoughts that help inform the way i write this doof. it's linked below as well, but check out jason's spotify wrapped if you have a minute! ;-)

Samsung User

Jason says he likes his coffee dark, but secretly orders flavored lattes (see that one Hozier photo)

Puts cinnamon in his coffee grounds

He may have good taste in books, but he's got shit taste in movies

Loves a few basic safe picks - Fight Club, Pulp Fiction, things you might expect from someone like him

But his "Watch Again" list is all cheesy action movies and wacky comedies. Mark Wahlberg appears a little too often.

Doesn’t watch a lot of television, but sometimes likes to fall asleep to Family Guy or South Park

Has one ear piercing he got on a dare, done by either one of his brothers or one of the Outlaws

Good gift giver, but only wraps things in newspaper

Really terrible about remembering to take his medication

To the point that Dick and Tim got him one of those every day of the week pill boxes as a joke - but it's actually been incredibly helpful

Is a regular at his neighborhood corner store

To the point where the guys at the counter don’t even card him anymore

He's the type of man to sleep till noon, 1:30 on Sundays

If he's sharing a bed, he will snuggle up to you in his sleep

Snores

Unfortunately uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash

Has an high tolerance for weed, which annoys the hell out of him because he enjoys a joint but does not fuck with edibles

Every time he tries an edible, he stares at himself in the mirror for three hours and Does Not like it

Drunk Yapper

Beer Drinker

Doesn't always know his own strength

Not in the accidentally-break-someone's-arm type of way, but definitely in the sometimes-closes-the-door-too-hard-and-goes-"whoopsie daises!" type of way

Thankfully, he's become a pretty great handy man

Despite being a certified Car Guy, he did die at 15 and as a consequence is lowkey still how to drive a none military grade car (in other words, he's a shit driver) (but it's okay, he sticks to the motorcycle and public transportation)

He's not a hugger, but he is a leaner

Thrifts all of his clothes

Prefers to get his books from local indie/second-hand/new & used bookstores

But still has a Barnes & Nobles membership card

His bookshelf is not organized what-so-ever; it's started to operate as more of a gun rack while his books get stacked underneath his bed (he tells himself that this will make him get through his To Be Read list faster)

His top played song of last year was “Kiss Me Through The Phone” by Soulja Boy

His music taste can be divided into three primary playlists; East Coast Rap, Metal, Ear Worms

Is the family expert on the Gotham underground music scene

He isn’t big on social media at all, but he has a Twitter with like 15 followers he uses to keep an eye on whoever

(and also to keep up with music and book updates)

He’s occasionally very funny on it. But just occasionally.

Just Online enough to know who Trisha Paytas is, not Online enough to know who ClubChalamet is

He got his GED once he joined the family again

and yes, they threw him a little party to celebrate

Has the BatChat on silent, but still checks it regularly

Terrible texter; you’ll either hear back from him immediately or in three weeks time

“srry didn’t see this”

(he did see this, he just got anxiety about it)

Has a lot of anxiety about smalls things like that

Especially when it comes to the Bat Family

He’s not always sure where he stands with everyone - if they like him, trust him, want him there

Paranoid that they’re nosy because they secretly think he’s going to go rogue again

Has to constantly remind himself that they’re just nosy the same way that he’s nosy - because this is literally a family of detectives

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 10

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Bet/Game/Contest

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader

Warnings/tags: misogyny/catcalling/dude being a creep and asshole (not Dean), duelling, canon-typical violence, Dean being a dork, I'm putting a warning here for cringe/stalker/gross behaviour from the asshole,

Summary: Whilst perusing a stall at the renfair you encounter a guy that just won't leave you be, when Dean overhears. As penance for coming to your "rescue", he's challenged to a duel for your hand.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: I just loved writing this one. I actually went and re-watched the episode before I wrote it after I had the idea💀 I was stuck on this prompt for a while. I was thinking of pie eating contests (duh-doy) and bets with Loki but nothing seemed good enough. But I hope you enjoy reading! - Love, Grem 💜

As always, likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! 💜

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Smoke wafted in-between the stalls and tents of Ye Olde Marketplace, the smell of meats, mead and treats making your mouth water. This was your second renaissance fair and you were determined to make it worthwhile. You were an elf this time around, not necessarily LARPing but just in costume; the whole nine yards with flowers in your hair, glitter on your cheeks and of course, pointed ears. Your outfit complimented your body excellently as well as your elven "character". Layered skirts and flowy bouse with your body adorned in earth-toned accessories, it was no wonder you were stared at by other fair goers.

One in particular had followed you from stall to stall. You tried blocking him out but the skin-crawling feeling of being watched had you on edge. You picked up a crystal at one of the stalls ran by a guy in a comical wizard hat and a long grey beard, reading the miniscule cursive card on the stand amongst the crystals. You couldn't make out every word but you thought it read something about keeping bad energies at bay.

You really needed that right now.

"Mi'lady." A voice said from beside you, making you jump. It was that guy. You can't control your facial expression as you cringe at him.

"Hi." You mutter and turn away. You secretly hope that all of the anti-douchebag crystals are out in full force because this is not something you do not want to be dealing with today.

"What doth bring a fair maiden such as yourself to a place such as this?"

His voice is grating and you suppress a shiver, opting to continue browsing instead of answering. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Hey!" The guy begins, reaching a hand out to you. "I'm talking to yo-"

You turn as you see his hand reaching towards you, ready to chew him out for being a creep, but another hand halted his hand in its tracks. Your eyes widen as you follow your rescuer's hand all the way up his arm to his face. He's dressed as some sort of knight, loose shirt and some chainmail, but his features have a stormy look to them as he glares at the guy who'd been following you. You melt into a puddle; handsome doesn't even begin to cover how damn good this guy looked. Even if he did have powdered sugar on his cheek.

"This guy bothering you?" His voice is gruff and stern, green eyes meeting yours and you find you can't quite say anything.

"Uh, well -"

"I wasn't doing anything - I was here first!" The creep protests and the look on your face says it all; you're disgusted and unimpressed.

You look back to your knight with no shining armour. "Yeah. He's bothering me."

"I declare a duel!" The creep says loudly and a few passers-by slow down to nosy in on the conversation. "For the lady's hand."

"Dude," Your hero sighs, looking incredulous at him as you roll your eyes with repulsion. "Give it a rest. Just take your damn potions and go."

The creep unsheathes a wooden sword and points it at your hero, who half-heartedly shrugs with an exasperated "really?". The creep jabs him in the chest once. He doesn't quite get to the second jab as his sword is smacked out of the way and a swift punch lands perfectly in the square of his face.

With a sickening crack he slumps to the ground, clutching a bleeding nose. You can't help but feel a little smug at the sight and your heart swoons just a little at the scene you've just experienced. A handsome knight coming to rescue a damsel in distress.

"Come on," You say to your knight, nodding to one of the other colourful stalls. "I believe I owe you a drink for rescuing me."

You set down two butter-beers on a picnic table, and jostle a brown paper bag of freshly made mini donuts in the middle. The smell that wafts from the bag is sickening - and you reach in and pop one into your mouth as soon as you're seated.

Your knight, who you found that his name was Dean, took a sip from the buttery stein in front of him, making a grunt of approval and immediately swigging more.

"Thanks again," You say over your own glass. "You fight for a maiden's honour a lot?" “It’s what I do. Saving people.” He looks like he’s about to add something else, but clears his throat, looking sheepish. “It’s a family thing, ya know?” “Hm.” You don’t know whether it’s the LARPing or if he’s being genuine, but your heart flutters again and you can't help but smile at him. He's stuffing two mini donuts into his mouth but when he catches you smiling at him, he attempts to smile back but his cheeks are too full and when you laugh at him his cheeks go pink.

"Well, cheers!" You raise your stein and clink it with his. The conversation ebbs and flows naturally and you soon find yourself engrossed in his family history - well, his character's family history - about monsters and demons and angels. It's so well-thought out you're almost embarrassed to not have anything so detailed.

After Dean's phone rings as you're traversing stalls together (nearly three hours later) and a very curt conversation with someone on the other end, Dean gives you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, duty calls." He sighs, tucking his phone away into his pocket again. You'd already exchanged numbers earlier after finding out you had more in common than you'd realised, and at the very least, if you couldn't date the guy you could at least be friends.

"That's alright. I had a blast today." You gush, grinning at him. He gives you a boyish smile in return and before he has a chance to say anything else, you lean up to place a soft peck on his cheek. Dean's smile only grows wider when you sternly remind him, "Keep in touch, Dean Winchester. I wanna know all about these monsters and the next parts of the story."

"Yes ma'am." He affirms with a short nod, making his way out of the fair, nearly tripping into a hidden rabbit hole because he can't stop looking over at you as he leaves.

You giggle and wave him out of sight. Perhaps you should make an equally intricate backstory for your LARP character, though not as sad as Dean's, using today as an example. You decide then and there that meeting Dean Winchester ought to be a turning point for something good instead of bad. Although, you can't quite decide who your next monster of the week will be.

You'll just have to call Dean for some ideas.

[sukunas-princess]

Co-worker!Kotarou, who only got this cushy part-time corporate gig because Tetsuro put in a good word for him.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who wants to do his best and show Tetsuro that he won’t regret it, but he’s just hopelessly clumsy and always in the way somehow. You can’t help but think that Tetsuro is playing some grand prank on you by giving Kotarou to you. This man can barely answer the phone correctly. How will he ever learn how to be a proper administrative assistant for you?

Co-worker!Kotarou, who shoots straight up from his desk when you arrive every morning, and then trails behind you, just like a happy pup. He fills you in on everything he’s done so far (before he got to work. God knows he isn’t useful at work), and then proceeds to read you your messages – if you can call them that. Most are just scribbles about how the voice sounded because he forgot to ask for a name.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets a little too curious about you and wants to know what you do outside of work, and then jokingly asks you if you even know how to have fun.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who stares at you blankly when you tell him you most certainly have fun, and when he asks you to give examples, you snap at him to get back to his desk.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who has disturbed your precious breaks more than once by running into your corner office and claiming he has broken the copier. He’s a sight to behold with his button-down shirt no longer buttoned, the tight white t-shirt underneath fighting with honor to stay on as he babbles about how “It’s out of paper” or “It’s out of toner” or it’s out of blah blah blah.

You now lock your door for your breaks.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who presses Tetsuro for information about you on his lunch breaks. Tetsuro laughs when Kotarou pouts and says that he doesn't understand what he did, but you always look so mad at him. Tetsuro assures him that that's just who you are - no nonsense at work, but your resting bitch face certainly isn't doing you any favors. He gently reminds Kotarou that "not everyone is an open book like you, dude" but to "work hard, and they'll appreciate it. Just don't be so... you in the meantime".

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who tries not to be so… well, him. He does his very best to make you proud – writing down actual names and numbers when he takes a message, fixing the copier by himself, and busting his butt so he's two steps ahead of you with whatever you need.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is in the middle of typing up your agenda for tomorrow when you peek your head out and call for him. And when he asks what you need, you pause for a moment before softly telling him, “Nothing. Just… Good job”.

(And Co-worker!Kotarou, who can’t help but let out a little fist pump once you’re out of sight.)

Co-worker!Kotarou, who brings in donuts for the whole office one morning (charged onto one of Tetsuro’s credit cards, of course), and is crestfallen when you politely decline taking one of them. He's noticed you look a little sad lately, and he wanted to make your day better with a tasty treat at the very least.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is trying sooooooooo hard not to be nosy, but he can't help but overhear you constantly arguing with someone over the phone nowadays, and it's definitely not with a client.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who hears little rumblings through the office that you're no longer in a relationship, and that things are about to get rough if everyone doesn't stay in line.

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who comes in a full two hours before you now, preparing everything in order to make your day as smooth as possible. It's none of his business what happened between you and your ex, but he wants to help any way he can.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who continues to bring in breakfast once a week for the office (still charged to Tetsuro’s credit card), and has a sweet treat for you completely separate from the rest. He’s hell bent on finding out what kind of pastry you enjoy most, since it's clearly not donuts. And even if you don’t like it, hopefully you laughed at the dad joke he left beside it.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who attempts to cheer you up one evening - offering to stay late, or to beat your ex-lover up, or to go buy junk food down at the corner store and you can just rant to him while you eat it all.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets a little bit of a smile out of you with that last one.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who genuinely says “Seriously. If you need anything, I’m here. I wouldn’t be a very good assistant if I wasn’t.”

Co-worker!Kotarou, who's laughter is so contagious when you answer, “You’re a terrible fucking assistant, Kotarou” that you can’t help but laugh too.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who feels a little spark as you both just continue to smile at each other. These past couple months have been difficult, to say the least. He would be a liar if he said he hadn't gotten a huge, fat crush on you the moment he was introduced to you.

But Co-worker!Kotarou, who's spark flickers for a moment before being snuffed out completely, because now isn't a time for confessions. You just got out of a relationship. You're fragile, and he would feel like a complete ass if he took advantage of you.

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who wishes you goodnight instead, and heads home.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets ready for bed, wondering what would have happened if he had made a move. How would your lips feel against his? How would it feel to hold you so impossibly close, like he's been longing to?

Co-worker!Kotarou, who shakes his head and tells himself out loud to "Let it go. Don't do this to yourself." before he climbs into bed.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is almost asleep when he feels his phone vibrate, but checks it anyways.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who reads, “I lied that day when I said I didn’t want a donut. They’re my favorite.”

Co-worker!Kotarou, who has to read the message three times, because at first he thinks he's hallucinating, and the second time, he thinks it's a weird trap.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who takes forever and a half to do it, but eventually texts back, "Any particular kind?"

Co-worker!Kotarou, who lets out a little giggle when he reads, "Any is fine." and then right below it, "Good night."

Co-worker!Kotarou, who's feet kick around a little bit before he puts his phone back down, and allows himself to be whisked away by daydreams of you, falling asleep with a big smile on his face.

And last but not least, Co-worker Kotarou, who is late to work the next morning, because he was asking the girl behind the counter if there was any possible way she could put a smiley face on the donut.

© all writing owned by sukunas-princess. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, share outside of tumblr, etc. heart divider by @/roseschoices. support banner made by me, sukunas-princess.

[phrandallanton]

ranfren headcannons

I've done everything but posted headcannons and a fanfiction. This won't do. Here's some headcannons of mine! All of them aren't serious so don't take them that way d(>_･ ). Feel free to ask me about any other headcannons I'll definitely give more!

Randal

• if he has any pimples on his face he definitely picks at them untill they pop

• either is really good at math or sucks at math and hates it. (No in-between)(leaning towrds sucking at math more)

• has tear stains on his homework sometimes

• he bathes everyday dispite what people think. (Luther forces him too)

• his hair gets really oily. He has tried to cook with the oil his hair produced once. Nobody ate dinner that night.

• if he's frustrated and you go to poke him he'll scream on top of his lungs, but like the scream that goes from normal yelling to banshee screeching. "stop touCHING MEEEEĚĘƏƏ!!!!"

• gets in a lot of internet arguments about things that don't matter at all ("I think you'll find it's 'whom'.")

• he'd get so mad if he ask you to hold his glasses, and you proceed to carelessly get your fingerprints all over them.

• draws with those "how to draw anime" guid books.

• if he ever took a driving test, he would have already failed the moment he opens the car door.

• loves kraft mac and cheese, double points if it's in shapes of popular marketable characters.

• now thinking of it, if he was a pasta dish he would be kraft mac and cheese.

• bites his toe nails off (gross) Luther tried to get him to stop but he probably does the same thing when no one is around.

• sneezes weirdly. Like..."ah...ah...AH CHOOwoowoowoowoo..." and shakes his head. Or if he's covering it in his elbow it'll sound like a trumpet horn.

Luther

• he can dance but it's weird.

• if you tell him a joke he'll turn it into a life lesson.

• he wins every staring contest. However if your eyes start watering he'll get worried and start begging you to blink.

• treats women (and everyone) with so much respect, but he won't hesitate to punch a women if he really has to.

• *shakes his indext finger* "no no no"

• Randal probably tried to set him up on a blind date, he didn't like that. It was very awkward to say the least.

• genuinely gets happy when there are bagels at the function.

• when asked for advice, it'll sound like he's going to say something really meaningful and life changing, but then does a complete 180. "Oh, you think your ugly? Well people will have their opinions about you and ...well... you aren't the best thing to look at. But there's worst out there ♡."

• I can see him gobbling up some cheese and broccoli.

• has a walk in closet filled with clothes and accessories he doesn't wear.

• he 100% definitely has the goofiest giggle in the planet.

• eats ice cream with his front teeth.

Nyon

• I will stand by this till the day I die, he's really funny. He has a really good sense of humor. But I could also seem him not understanding jokes too. But at the same TIIIMMEE I feel like he'd be naturally funny.

• he knows lots of slang and pop culture due to watching TV a lot and probably quotes stuff in his head. (Maybe out loud if he was talking to you)

• has a lot of opinions, will never say them out loud, even when asked.

• he's the smartest out of everyone, including Luther.

• easily amused. please give him one of those little fishy nightlights. He'd enjoy looking at it so much.

• he's good at card games and Nyen doesn't like that. (Nyen has stabbed him over games of uno)

• has a really funny looking smile. (There's that one drawing in the Christmas comic where he's smiling weird after he saw Luther's reaction to the fire place tape he made for him)

Nyen

• listens to death metal but then listens to a jpop song right after. ("Can't let gang know I fw this")

• good at math, sucks at reading.

• loves hearing about drama and will be nosy.(come on man he loves Judge Judy and romance novels)

• sounds like Tom from Tom and Jerry when he yells.

• he calls himself "The Tom Cat" and (canonically) "Top of the pets in the house hold" which is practically the same as "I'm the alpha" so he's probably has said that.

• sucks at card games. Will legit end up with half of the pack of cards in his hands in the middle of an uno game.

• actually the weakest of them all. (I won't go into all that right now. But I can definitely beat him up in a fight, just sayin.)

•him and Nyon probably have times where they stay up and chit chat for a bit before they sleep, Example (from my old notes I had):

Nyon high on weed:...why do we call oranges..oranges...but we don't call apples...reds..??..

Nyen:....sh*t...you got a point... does that mean we would call lemons: short yellows and bananas: long yellows so it doesn't get confusing?...

*they then discuss this for an hour or so*

• Snores really really LOUD. Sounds like a car.

• oddly very ticklish I bet.

~~~~~~

That's all I have now. It's 2 in the morning and I'm falling asleep. I might write other characters headcannons later.

"I'm going to sleep" -bop it

[cowgurrrl]

What's In A Name?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was rewatching daredevil

Summary: You settle on a new nickname for Matthew [1.3k]

Warnings: fluff, lawyer talk, brief mention of Jack, Daredevil things, June’s first time writing Matt so pls be nice, I think that’s it??

He's realized it changes depending on the day. You refer to him in court as your colleague, Mr. Murdock, or even Counselor. You call him Murdock to get his attention or scold him for something. That Idiot in The Mask before you find out about his nightly escapades. That Idiot in The Mask after you find out about his nightly escapades. But more often than not, when he climbs into bed after a long night of being That Idiot, your eyes flutter open, and you murmur a soft "Matthew" before snuggling into him.

Foggy and Karen make fun of you for using his full name more often than Matt, which is undeniably faster and punchier. Every once in a while, you'll pull Franklin out to make Foggy cringe and accuse you of sounding like his mother. Their teasing does nothing to stop you from calling him Matthew. It's the name in your phone, the name you punch in braille in his birthday cards, the name you use to introduce him to others, everything. 

It also helps to conceal the specifics of your relationship from other lawyers who may get nosy and try to use your relationship against you in a court of law. What girlfriend wouldn't call her boyfriend by a nickname? The kind of girlfriend who went through seven years of school and refuses to have her JD called into question just because she went into practice with her boyfriend and best friends. 

The good thing is he doesn't seem to mind you calling him Matthew. It's very rare that the name doesn't grate on his ears, but when it falls from your lips, it's warm and welcome like the first sunny day after a harsh New York winter. The question, however, comes on a chilly October evening while sitting with socked feet on the couch and working through closing statements. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard many pieces of information throughout the past few weeks. Many of them circumstantial," you read to him as you scribble the notes on a yellow legal pad. His hand is resting on your thigh, tracing patterns into your soft leggings, and cocks his head in your direction to show you he's listening. "However, you have also heard from my client-"

"Our client." Matt interrupts, and you look up at him. His tinted glasses are resting on the coffee table amid scattered case notes and copies of evidence, and his brown eyes are cast vaguely in your direction. When you first started dating, he told you people were uncomfortable with his bouncing, unfocusing eyes, and that's why he hadn't taken off his glasses in front of you. Since then, it's been a steady journey of reassuring him how much you love him, love all of him. The fact that all these years later, he's sitting without shame and without his glasses is enough to make your heart soar. 

"Is O'Reilly also the jury's client?" 

"No, but there are multiple defense attorneys on this case."

"Okay, so what if I gesture to you when I say it?" You ask, and the corner of Matt's mouth quirks up.

"'M sure that'll look very professional, sweetheart." He says, amusement in his tone, and you roll your eyes as you look back down at the paper. 

"I'm just gonna say 'my client.'" 

"Fine, but I'm telling Foggy."

"Oh, c'mon, we both know you've claimed clients and cases as your own. It's not a big deal."

"I have not!" 

"I will pull court transcripts right now."

"Maybe I should be the one to give closing statements." He teases and tries to reach for your papers. You rip them out of his reach and drop them on the floor when he tickles your sides. You laugh and try to fight against his strong hands, but he grabs both your wrists in one hand and tickles you with the other. 

"Okay, okay, that's enough." You beg between breathless giggles, and his merciless attack on your stomach stops as fast as it started. The apartment falls silent as he lays half on top of you with your legs bracketing his sides. His hair is soft and a little too long, flopping over his forehead and hiding a yellowing bruise, and his full lips are pulled into a perfect smile that you can't help but kiss. He hums against your lips and releases your wrists, letting your hands graze his waist, narrowly avoiding sore ribs. You feel a full breath fill his lungs before he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours.

"We're never gonna finish closing statements like this." He mumbles, his voice raspy, and you shrug.

"Prosecution barely has a case. We'll be fine," you say as you scratch his back. "Besides, I always make closing statements my bitch."

"Can't argue with that." He laughs, and you hum in agreement. It's getting late. The sights and sounds of the city have dimmed just enough to tell you that people have made it home from their work days, settling into dinner and bedtime routines with their families. A certain red suit hidden in the closet pricks at the forefront of your mind, and you take a deep breath. 

You knew what you signed up for when you met Matt in your legal history class during your second year at Columbia. You'd had several long-winded conversations with him about defending the working man, upholding the law, and the importance of order in a chaotic world. You knew dating him also meant sharing him with his job, no matter what it was. Still, you never expected his part-time job to be beating up criminals in dark alleys after you went to bed. 

"Wanna order Thai from that place down the block and keep working, or do you need to go?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"'M good."

"You sure?" 

"I like working with you." He says sincerely, and a ball of light shines in your chest. You have to fight the smile threatening the corner of your mouth, and you know he can feel it. 

"Are you just saying that cause you want me to change my wording?" You ask, and he laughs. He ducks his head to kiss your jaw before straightening back up, not letting himself get too distracted by the taste of your skin.

"No, I'm saying that because I love hearing you make closing statements your bitch."

"Good answer, Matthew." You tap his side, and he kisses you again before sitting back to let you get up and retrieve your phone from the counter. You type in the restaurant's name, your mouth watering at the thought of Pad Thai, and walk over to the back of the couch. Matt leans into you the second you're close enough, and even though you don't have super senses like him, you know he's thinking hard about something.

"You know you may be the only person in the world who calls me Matthew on a regular basis?" He asks out of the blue, and you look up from your phone. His hand finds its way to your waist and tugs you closer until your hips are flush against the couch. You indulge in his sudden neediness by running your free hand through his hair.

"What'd your dad call you?" You ask quietly. A soft chuckle escapes him, and he tilts his head at you.

"Matty."

"Matty," you try to nickname on your tongue and smile. "Gotta give it to Battlin' Jack, that's a pretty good one."

"I'm sure he'd agree with you." He says, the gentle ache of grief settling over the space. You lean down and kiss his head in reverence, like you're thanking him for sharing the memory with you. The feeling dissolves once you get back into closing statements and arguing about wording over steaming piles of food, but the name sticks in your brain. His contact name in your phone goes from Matthew to Matty. You let yourself call him Matty a handful of times to test it out, and somehow, the transition between names doesn't faze either of you. It feels good, intimate almost. Something just for the two of you. 

Hell's Kitchen can have Daredevil all they want as long as Matty is the one coming home to you. 

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar : the date Part 2 - the bar

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: self-conscious, a whole lot of flirting, semi-public dry-humping

words: 3.6k

Summary: After a rather rocky start to your date, Jake takes you to a bar that's more your cup of tea and the date finally started to take off...

a/n: I had a really good time writing this chapter and I hope you have as much fun reading it!

Link to my masterlist

“Okay, now we’re talking!”, you mentioned as you entered the bar Jake had brought you to. The bar had little tables all around the room, a long bar and even a little stage on the other end. It was well filled and the atmosphere reminded you a lot of the Hard Deck minus the nosy looks of your favorite group if you had gone there.

This place was already a hundred times better, you thought to yourself as you stood next to Jake, taking in the place.

“Look, there’s an empty table back there”, you told him over the music and pointed across the bar. He nodded and led the way through the crowd. He took your hand like it was no big deal and pulled you with him. You bit down on your bottom lip to hide your smile.

At your table, he pulled out a chair for you. “Such a gentleman”, you observed. “You sound surprised”, he commented. “Let’s just say, I don’t have a lot of prove”, you countered as he sat down at the table to your left.

Jake rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows and opened one more button at the top. You felt your mouth watering as you took in the sight.

“Come on, man”, you sighed and cocked your head to the side. “What?”, he asked confused. “I see what you’re doing there”, you told him and motioned at his collar and then his arms. His strong, tanned, beautiful arms.

“What? It’s hot in here. Don’t tell me you like that?”, he asked playfully innocent and held up his underarms, flexing a little. “Every woman that has a pulse likes that”, you retorted. With a smug smile, he interlocked his fingers and rested his elbows on the table, alternating flexing his left and right arm. “Stop it, you idiot”, you slapped his hands and got up.

“I’ll go get us some drinks. You want a beer?”, you asked. “Sure, one won’t hurt”, he replied. You grabbed your purse to get your credit card and Jake put a hand over yours. “Hey, take my card”, he said and held up his credit card. “No, you already got dinner. God knows that was expensive enough”, you told him with a tone in your voice that made him roll his eyes.

You chuckled at his facial expression, pulled your hand from his and walked over to the bar counter with your card in your hand.

“Can I get two beers, please? Thanks”, you placed your order and while you waited, looked over to Jake who was sitting at the little table, his eyes set on you.

You shot him, what you hoped was, a flirty smile and a wink which made his smile a little bigger and your stomach flutter. Damn, he looked good. You couldn’t believe that you were actually on a date with him. Out of all the women in this bar, and there were many, he looked at you. This sent another rush of tingles through your stomach. You needed to look away for a moment to regain some composure.

You let your eyes wander around the bar and noticed a bunch of women. Some of them already starting to notice Jake. He was a sight, that’s for sure.

“Here you go”, the bartender placed two beers in front of you. You handed over your credit card for a quick swipe through the machine and then walked back to your table.

For a second, you felt like there were several pairs of eyes on your back but you shook off the thought before you sat down.

“There you go”, you moved one beer over to him. You clinked with the necks of your bottles before you took a sip of the cold beverage. “Ah, that feels so good”, you said and closed your eyes for a second. Jake was right, it was warm in here. You pulled the sleeves of your dress up to your elbows and the elastics in the cuffs held them in place.

“I see what you’re doing”, Jake commented and nodded at your now bare lower arms. You were a bit confused for a second then you caught on. “Ha-ha”, you said dryly. “You like that? Huh?”, you held your arms up, playfully moving them in front of him. “Just wait ‘till you see my ankles. You’re gonna come in your pants”, you joked and made both of you laugh.

Only after the moment, you realized how much you both had needed that. The atmosphere between the two of you felt much lighter now and the real date could begin.

“You know, I’m not supposed to say this but I pretty much saved the day out there”, Jake said about his last mission. You weren’t sure if he was being cocky like he usually was or if he was being honest.

“And why are you telling me then?”, you asked and leaned forward, folding your arms on the table. Jake leaned forward as well, your faces close. “To impress you”, he said in a low voice, only for you to hear.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of a joke but all you could see was the bright green of his irises. Did he really mean it? Was it important to him what you thought about him?

“Well, thank you for your service”, you said and clinked your bottle against his before you took a sip leaning back in your seat, kinda ruining the moment. Things got a little too intense for you for a moment.

“I don’t know about you but I’m kinda hungry”, you said and reached for the little laminated menu that was placed in the middle of the table. “We’ve just come from a five-course-meal”, Jake reminded you. “Those portions were a joke. Especially for that price”, you pulled a face and let your eyes wander over the list of food items. “Ooh, they have chicken wings. And chili-cheese fries”, you spotted some of your favorites.

“If you’re still hungry, why didn’t you say so at the restaurant. We could have ordered something else”, he suggested.

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious? You don’t just order additional stuff to a five-course-meal, not at a place like that. They already looked at me weird. And also, if I could have, I would just have ordered the typical first-date salad but that probably would have just been one lettuce leaf with a stripe of mango on it at that place”, you told him and shook your head while thinking of that fancy restaurant.

“What is it with you and a salad on dates?”, he asked curiously. “Do you want the first-date-Y/N or not?”, you asked with a mix of a huff and a chuckle. “I want the real you”, he immediately answered.

“Look who can be romantic all of a sudden?”, you said approvingly and leaned forward again, resting your chin on your hand, your elbow on the table. “Looks like my little lesson paid off”, you added with a smirk.

“Yeah, looks like it”, he commented and leaned in a little as well. “I feel like that stormy night was more like our first date, anyway. So, could you relax a little?”, he asked.

“Our first date, huh? Who knew Lt. Seresin needed a natural disaster to get a girl to go on a date with him?”, you joked.

“Only for the important ones”, he answered without missing a beat and his sincere tone knocked you off your game.

“Also, call me Lt. Seresin more often, I like that”, he added. You felt his hand on your left knee where your dress had parted, slowly moving up, but not too far. The touch of his fingers on your bare skin made you swallow hard. You were never happier to have decided against the shorts.

“Then this was the last time you’re ever gonna hear it”, you countered a few moments after swallowing hard, trying to get back to your usual banter but you were a little bit distracted, to say the least. The smile on his face let you know that he knew what he was doing to you.

“Your thighs are doing something to me”, he said softly, almost whispering, after a few moments of silence and intense eye contact. His hand was moving up and down on your thigh, squeezing it softly.

"Yeah, probably crush you", you automatically commented. He shot you a look that let you know that he didn't like the way you talked about yourself and pulled his hand from your leg.

"Why do you always do that?", he asked. "What?", you asked innocently. "Always put yourself down when you get complimented", he said and his words hit a spot in you. You didn't think he would notice. You wanted to evade the question, present him with some lame excuse, but then you decided against it.

"It's kinda hard not to say stuff like that about yourself when it's all you've ever done", you explained and felt the embarrassment creep up your cheeks, making them burn. You looked down at your drink and pulled at the label on your bottle.

"I always try to say that stuff about me before someone else does even if I’m not always quick enough", you continued and shot him a quick glance before you looked down at your hands again, feeling Jake tense up next to you.

"I'm so sorry that happened. I still feel awful", he said and the expression on his face matched his words.

"I know. And you should. It hasn't been that long ago", you told him but your conciliable smile took the harshness out of your words.

"And I also know that at least 10 women in here already checked you out and can't believe that you're here with me", you told him.

“I don’t care about them. Like you said, I’m here with you and I don’t want to be anywhere else…with anyone else”, he declared. You felt his hand back on your thigh, his fingers giving it a little squeeze which made you swallow.

“You’re putting it on a little thick now, Seresin”, you diverted with humor again. This got a little too intense for you for a moment. Jake only chuckled at your words, knowing your tactics by now.

"I'm gonna go powder my nose real quick and be right back", you told him, pushing back your seat and walking over to the restrooms.

You had a quick pee and then checked your face in the mirror. Since it was a warm night, your face was a little shiny and you had some smeared mascara under your eyes. You took care of that with a paper towel and combed through your hair with your fingers, fluffing up the waves you had put in with the flat iron, or what was left of it.

When you came back out to the main bar area, you saw that a blonde woman was standing at your table, talking to Jake.

For a moment, your heart sank. You should have known that the women you had noticed staring before wouldn't see you as actual competition.

But then you thought about the evening you had spent with Jake so far, all the flirting and touching and what he had said right before you went to the restroom. You thought back to how he had asked you out for this date and it put a smile on your face.

You straightened your back and walked over to your table. When you came closer, you heard the woman laughing. She threw her hair over her shoulder. Jake's eyes found you behind her and, you wouldn't believe it if you wouldn't see it just now, his whole face lit up. A flutter ran through your stomach.

You just walked past the woman, took Jake's face in your hands and kissed him. Jake was startled but only for a second. You pulled back after a few moments, still holding his face in your hands.

"Dance with me, Seresin", you said. You felt the nod more than you saw it, his eyes looking at you in awe and then a cheeky smile forming on his face. You stood up straight and grabbed his hand.

"Excuse me", you said to the woman who was standing in your way, in more than one way, having her take a step to the side so you could walk towards the dancefloor area, Jake right behind you.

A few people were already dancing and you walked right in the middle of the space. It was a semi-slow song at the moment.

You put your arms around Jake's neck and he placed his hands on your hips, starting to sway from side to side. You swung your hips a little more than necessary, pressing into his hands, one at a time. His grip got a little tighter and he pulled you closer.

"Sorry for the impromptu kiss just now. I had to mark my territory", you told him with a shrug of your shoulders and a nonchalant tone in your voice.

"Okay, first of all, never apologize for kissing me. And second of all, I'm territory now?", he asked and raised one eyebrow but the tone in his voice let you know that he wasn't mad about that word.

"I was just annoyed that she just came over and flirted with you while we're clearly on a date. All of these women were ogling you all night", you explained to him and rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Well, if the kiss wasn't clear enough, they will know now. Wanna give ‘em a little show?", he asked, but before you could answer him, he grabbed your hand and spun you out in front of him and pulled you back in. You landed with your back to his chest.

He grabbed both of your hands and put them on your hips, his hands over yours. Your hips moved together, the two of you being in your own world. You made sure to press your butt against his front, just for good measure.

You pulled your hands from his, letting them move up your body. You placed one hand on his neck and the other over one of his hands on your hips.

Jake made you feel sexy like no one ever has managed to before. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought to dance so sexy in front of other people but he managed to make you forget that there were even other people around. With every swing of your hips, your confidence rose.

“You’re making it very hard for me to stay on this dance floor. Literally”, he said at your ear and his warm breath sent a tingle down your spine, let alone his words. With a smile, you pressed your ass a little firmer at him.

The next moment, he took your left hand from his neck, had you spinning away from him again, pulled you back in and dipped you backwards. You already knew that he was strong enough to hold you and this time you enjoyed the dance move.

When you came back up, your eyes were met with a very intense, hot stare of his green eyes. With the hand that wasn't still cradled around your back, he gently pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your cheek, before he kissed you.

Compared to your kiss before, he was gentle, soft but still wanting. It was like he was saying sorry all over again and now marking his territory. And you weren’t mad about it either.

The kiss ended way too soon for your taste and you looked up at him with doughy eyes. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but you were quicker.

"Wanna get out of here?", you asked breathlessly.

Instead of an answer, he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the dancefloor. You got back to your table only to grab your purse before you left the bar. Jake held your hand all the way to his car that was parked on the parking lot right next to the building.

When you arrived at this car and he opened the passenger side door for you, you threw your purse on your seat, then you reached up to put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close to you. You crashed your lips into his and put your other arm around his neck.

You let yourself fall back against the car and pulled Jake with you, who braced your impact with his hands next to your shoulders.

You let your tongue run along his bottom lip, your fingernails lightly scratching at the nape of his neck. Jake pushed his body against yours, caging you in between him and the car.

Your kiss got more passionate by the second, more urging, wanting. It felt like the kiss you had shared with him at the Hard Deck during that stormy night.

You were parked in a rather dark corner as the next lamp post was a few cars down. That was the only explanation for basically dry humping him in public. The real explanation was that you were super horny for him and had waited way too long for a moment like this.

Jake’s right hand moved down to the slit in your dress and grabbed your left thigh. You raised it automatically and he put it on his hip. He pushed his pelvis forward and made you gasp at the contact.

Your tongues danced with each other while exchanging sloppy kisses, being hungry for each other. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging on it and scratching at his scalp which made him moan into your mouth. You loved the sounds he made, they turned you on so much.

Jake took a small step back and you lowered your left leg back down before he broke the kiss. Your eyes flew open, being heavy with lust. Your lips felt swollen and tingled from all the kissing. You thought he would take even more steps back, stopping whatever you were doing, but instead, you felt his hand on your left thigh again, moving closer to your center.

You arched your back in anticipation of his touch. Your right hand was on his upper arm, grabbing his biceps to hold on to something.

“Mhm, baby”, he moaned as his fingertips caressed you over your panties, discovering how damp they already were. You moaned in response, eyes closed again, enjoying his touch as your head dropped back against the window of the back seat.

Suddenly his hand stopped moving and you opened your eyes, irritated.

“What? What happened?”, you asked confused. “No comeback to baby? No being all snappy about a nickname?”, he asked. “No, I like baby. Especially with your hand between my legs”, you countered, a purring tone on your lips.

His fingers started moving again and it made you gasp. “It’s also hard to be snappy when you do that”, you told him and sounded a bit breathless.

“Is that so? If I had known that sooner…”, he said and started kissing your neck simultaneously.

“That…sounds weird. Don’t go around touching people’s crotches”, you told him off as a joke but also as a fair warning.

“Are you actually lecturing me right now?”, Jake asked in disbelief and leaned back a little to look at your face.

“I said being snappy was hard right now. I said nothing about a lecture”, you countered. “Oh, shut up, woman”, he told you off with a smile and sealed your lips with a hard kiss.

You giggled at his lips but only for a second. Then his kiss clouded your mind, making your knees weak and when his fingers resumed their part, every clear thought in your brain was gone. His mouth moved down your chin and onto your neck.

“Jake”, you moaned. “Yeah, baby?”, he asked, loving that he had finally found a nickname you didn’t push back on. You grabbed his face with both of your hands and made him look at you. “Take me home”, you told him. “Yes, ma’am”, he nodded.

Almost reluctantly, he let go of you. He made sure you got into the car and closed the door behind your before he hurried around the car to his side, getting in.

When he started the car and put it in reverse, you put your hand on his thigh, the tent in his pants clearly visible which made you kind of proud. His grip on the steering wheel got tighter, his knuckles almost turning white.

“I wouldn’t do that if you want to arrive at home safely”, he told you and it sounded pleading. You pulled your hand back with a giggle.

You adjusted your legs which caused the slit of your dress to fall open and reveal your left thigh. Jake’s eyes shot over for a second, noticing it. “Y/N, you’re killing me”, he said and you didn’t know what he was talking about at first as you hadn’t noticed. He nodded down at your lap and you quickly pulled the fabric back onto your legs.

“Focus on the road and get us home, Lieutenant”, you ordered him. “Believe me, I want nothing more. Well, maybe except for touching your thigh again”, he replied.

next chapter: part 3 - the apartment (1/2)

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  CLOSER THAN THIS

SUMMARY :  part IV of gimme half. something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else has not arrived.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, p in v, clothed sex, against the wall

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : jimin song title. this fills the quickie square of my @jacklesversebingo card. I don’t even know what I’m doing 😋 but these can be read as standalone fics 😌 XXX

Dean made cute faces all the time. 

It was hard to resist smiling when she was around him. His jokes made her laugh, his faces made her laugh, even his laugh made her laugh, and the way he playfully sang along to the music from his playlist, the faces he pulled in concentration or as he tasted what he cooked made her smile. 

He was the embodiment for endearment. Those adorable dimples of his only made him more charming. She swooned an embarrassing amount of times in all those moments. 

She was delighted when he called her some time after noon and asked her to come over if she wasn’t busy to help him out with dinner. He spent most of the afternoon cooking and baking for his friends. It was one of the best times she’d spent with him, getting to know him like this, seeing in person as he serves others rather than peeking through the windows of her house to get to know him. 

It sounds creepier than it actually was, at least she thought so. She was a nosy neighbour. Oh, God, that’s horrible. To be fair, she was only nosy when it came to Dean—they were enemies. Were.

That phase was over. 

Sometimes she woke up in his bed, other times he woke up in hers. And then they’d make each other breakfast. And now they went on dates. And now they babysat his nephew when Sam and Eileen went out on dates—that brought up a lot of thoughts she didn’t have before. Kids. 

Seeing Dean like that with his nephew… Using a cute voice and singing him to sleep, messy feeding and messier baths, bedtime stories and playing pretend, soothing him when he cried and teaching him new things. 

She wondered if Dean felt the same, if the thoughts of fatherhood haunted him the way they haunted her when he fell asleep in her bed. Or when she woke up with the sun, to Dean’s sleeping face. Or when they were alone at home, cooking, watching movies, sharing stories, drinking… when they went on rides with no destination in mind, on picnics, or even just grocery shopping. Sometimes he’d keep her company as she worked on hobbies and she’d do the same for him, watching him fix anything broken, or tune up his car. 

She was too afraid to bring up that conversation. They were retired hunters. It’s part of why she refused to admit that she did want children. It’s like the choice was robbed from her and it hurt for so long, but it got easier to accept when she focused on hunting or her job as a professor. 

Besides, she had her cat. Close enough. 

When she went over to his place, she focused on helping Dean with chopping up whatever vegetables he needed to use, she washed them for him before using them, she brought the spices and herbs he needed, or the condiments that could be used, and cleaned up the dirty dishes after he was done using them. 

Now that they were finished, they sat at the table waiting for everything to finish simmering while talking about things to do after. Watching a movie was the obvious answer, which one to watch was the harder part. 

She believed it was Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience that were coming over. She met them at Sam’s wedding, barely. The only one who could truly answer that question was Dean, but now he was pouty because he wasn’t sure what they’d want to watch, but maybe he could ask them when they came. 

He picked up some of the excess shredded carrots for the carrot cake he made for those who didn’t want pie, and dropped them into his mouth. He chewed, the carrots barely touched his taste buds, and he grimaced, but swallowed it anyway.

“Tastes better in the cake,” he grunted, getting up for a beer. She giggled and shook her head at him. “Want one?” He asked from the fridge, getting his open, but she shook her head, so he sat back down with her. 

“So… you’re just good at everything?” She asked, scooting closer when he put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He chuckled, his cheeks reddening. He ahh-ed after taking a sip of the cool beer and thought for a while. 

“I’m not good at… designing clothes?” He offered bashfully, pushing the beer far away from him. She stared at it subtly then glanced up at him curiously. 

“No, not like that,” she smiled softly, “you fixed my electrical outlet…” she reminded him, leaning forward to tap his plump lip. His mouth dropped open slightly and he exhaled, rolling his eyes shyly. She dropped her hand onto the table and thoughtlessly traced patterns on the surface, watching him get embarrassed. 

“It was… nothing,” he sniffled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He leaned back in the chair and took the bottle of beer from the table again, playing with it to avoid her gaze. 

“You’re very… John Wick,” she sighed, stretching her arms upward. He hummed softly, leaning back forward with his arms on the table, staring at her with interest. “It’s hot,” she whispered quietly, her eyes holding affection and longing. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, staring at her like she was all that was there. It made her turn pink self-consciously, but she continued to gaze into his eyes. She saw his hand move and then it was over hers, warm and comforting. 

“Mmm, yes,” she replied quietly. 

Being around Dean was like being surrounded by a gas leak, and one kiss, one touch, one right word, acted like the spark that ignited everything. The fire robbed her of breath and stripped her skin away so she was bare and vulnerable to him. 

Dean leaned forward, practically lunging to meet her lips, but the timer he set earlier went off loudly at the centre of the table, and made them jump away. They both laughed awkwardly, she extended her hand to turn it off while Dean turned the stove off. 

“Wanna taste?” He asked, hummed softly as he took a tiny sip from the metal mixing spoon, and waited for her when she nodded. She stood before him, waiting and watching him blow air against the hot lentil soup in the spoon to cool it down. 

She bit her lip and smiled, then he cupped his hand two inches beneath the spoon so it wouldn’t drip onto the floor. She opened her mouth and took the delicious, warm soup into her mouth, savouring it with a pleased hum, her eyes full of surprise and satisfaction. Dean pulled back a little too early, causing some soup to dribble down from the corner of her lip due to the awkward position they were in. 

“Oh, my god,” she moaned, too distracted by the flavour. She only looked at Dean while he set the spoon down on the counter, indifferent about the puddle it created beneath. He grabbed her chin and dipped down to kiss the small trail of soup away, his warm tongue gently swiping up and down. Her breath hitched and her face burned hotter with embarrassment. 

The embarrassment didn’t last and was replaced by a flush of arousal across every inch of her skin. Dean seared her lips with a hard, demanding kiss that made her breathless and numbed her mind of any thoughts. 

He gently manoeuvred her across the kitchen, breaking apart from the kiss to breathe before returning to each other’s lips. She made quick work of the white apron around his waist, gasping at the unexpected bump of her back against the wall. 

Dean took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and trailed his hands slowly down her sides, his palms pressing against her curves firmly. He only removed his hands from the short baby-blue dress when she shoved the thick green flannel off his shoulders, watching him throw it over onto the nearest counter in the kitchen. 

Dean grabbed her hips to guide her into the hallway, digging his fingers into the tight dress to create dips into her flesh. She smoothed her hands down his chest and hooked her fingers over his leather belt, tugging him to her so she was pressed into the wall once more. 

Dean was short of breath, his cheeks and ears becoming scarlet red when she started to undo his belt, staring into his eyes daringly. He slid his hands down her thighs, and sneaked them up under the mini-dress. The soft cotton rode up with his hands, his fingers hooking against the sides of satin, beige panties, swiftly pulling down so they dropped down around her ankles. 

“Fuck, it’s like your horny all the time,” she whispered with a breathy laugh, wasting no time in tugging his jeans and boxers down. Her hand instantly circled around the base of his erect cock to squeeze tantalisingly.

“It’s not me being horny all the time, it’s that you’re always so fucking sexy, I can’t resist,” Dean quipped, dropping down to kiss her pushed up breast over the square neck of her dress. 

Dean bent his knees, and stretched his hands down to press his fingers against the back of her thighs, urging her silently to jump so he could lift her up. When she did, she freed his dick, and placed her arms over his shoulders, and her legs around his waist, kissing him once more. Dean ground his hips against her, his hard cock rubbing against her leaking pussy. 

“Please,” she whined, squirming when his cock brushed over her clit repeatedly. “They’re gonna be here in less than thirty minutes, Dean,” she reminded him. He chuckled huskily, but unhurriedly guided his cock to her needy, wet cunt, and pushed in at a tormenting pace.

He could feel her gushing around him, hot and wet. Dean moaned, reaching behind her arched back for the zipper of her dress, lowering it down halfway. He bounced her on his cock once with a smirk on his face, and lowered the straps of her dress off her shoulders, slid his fingers across the neck of it to tug downwards until her breasts spilled out from the tight material. 

Dean instantly began to fuck her into the wall, his thrusts harsh and desperate, wasting no time in building up her orgasm. His fingers scraped up her thighs to tighten around her hips, blunt nails digging into her delicate skin. 

Had the flowery drywall been cheap or damaged, she thought he’d break it down with the force of his thrust. He pounded into her, groaning out with pleasure into her ear before kissing and biting her throat, lovingly licking the red marks he left behind. 

Her clit throbbed with each slap of his pelvic bone against her, her cunt felt hot and full stuffed with his cock, and her muscles were somehow tense and mushy all at once. Lust overcome her will, drawing loud noises of pleasure from her lip, mewls and whimpers of his name that made him fuck her faster and harder.

“Say my name, baby… I love when you say it,” Dean panted against her lips, feeling her pussy clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. With a whine she brought him closer with both her legs and arms, the knot in her belly becoming tighter and tighter.

She could barely speak as every rough thrust stole the oxygen from her lungs. She managed a gasp of his name, brought her hands down between their connected bodies to ghost her fingers beneath his shirt. Her hands slipped upwards and curled around to his back, her manicured nails digging into muscular shoulders, causing him to moan. 

Every thrust drove Dean’s cock into the deepest depths of her vagina, brushing against sweet spots she forgot she had residing against the velvety, ridged walls of her pussy. She clenched around his pulsing cock, her nails scratching down the skin of his back, the knot becoming impossibly tight before she finally let go. Pleasure ran through her like electricity through a circuit, blinding her to the point of seeing an entire galaxy behind tightly shut eyes.

She screamed his name, the way he swore he’d make her scream the first night they were together. He slowed the thrust of his hips as he climaxed almost immediately after she reached hers, his cum spilling into her. Then he started up again, fucking her through her orgasm, until he softened inside her, his cum dripping around them. 

“I think that’s the fastest I’ve made you cum,” he laughed, his voice gravelly. She laughed with him, grateful for the slowness in the way he pulled himself from her, and lowered her weak legs to the wooden floors. 

“I need to pee,” she whispered, leaning against the wall with a smile while he fixed her dress, kissing and licking her nipples until they were tight before covering her back up, and zipping up the dress. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll get your underwear and meet you there,” he smiled softly and kissed her forehead lovingly before she left, pulling his jeans and boxers back up as he observed her very sexy behind.

She turned around with a knowing grin on her flushed face, sending a wink in his direction before she made a turn towards where the bathroom was. 

“I’m fucking you slower tonight!” He shouted after her. 

“Still rough, yeah!?” She called out teasingly, her voice echoing louder now that she was in the bathroom.

➥ my you

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[precioustarkey]

journalism at its finest

summary: you have made a career for yourself by interviewing celebrities, but are feeling a little uncomfortable when one hits close to home.

warnings: none

i nervously climbed into my car. the engine only makes my nerves rattle more. growing up, i was infatuated with actors and musicians. i found myself watching movies for the actors instead of the plot. listening to songs for the singers instead of the message. i can't explain my relationship with the media. i guess being online a lot as a teenager is to blame.

regardless, i knew from an early age that i wanted to work in the industry. not as an entertainer, but in the background. i wanted to observe the lifestyle up close. going to college for journalism was the best decision i have made for myself because now i get to live out my fantasy. 

i get paid to interview these people. and though i find a lot of them uptight and spoiled, the nosy side of me loves picking them apart. because of my job, i try my best to stay neutral on these celebrities so that they don't feel uncomfortable. apart from the research i do in order to come up with my questions, of course.

today is different. there is a show called "outer banks" that came around during quarantine, so with my free time, i binge-watched the entire first season. as i mentioned, normally i watch tv shows and movies for the actors, but i hadn't seen anyone in this show. 

however, when i delved deeper into google, i found the name of one of the actors to be familiar. drew starkey. i quickly found out that he grew up in north carolina, as did i. confused, i pulled myself from my cocoon on my couch to find my old high school yearbooks. grabbing one at random, i see him grinning in his senior photo. how could i forget? 

ever since i discovered this, i avoided the show like the plague. even though i had been surrounded by celebrities for years now, i had never known one of them personally. it almost ruined the glamorous aura surrounding them. imagining him as a regular teenage boy in the classes we shared was humbling. he wasn't mean in high school, not at all. if anything, i remember finding it odd that he hung around the theater kids because he was a total jock.

because of quarantine, i knew that press would be difficult for the actors, and because of this, i never anticipated having to interview them. which helped ease my nerves. moving to los angeles meant that i would interview every celebrity on the new up-and-coming shows. part of me hoped the hype surrounding the show would die down before the lockdown did.

the entire ride to the studio, i told myself over and over again that there was no way he would remember me. he was a jock, and i barely spoke. it wasn't the fact that i was shy, high school just wasn't for me. i counted down the days to graduation. i was only there because i had to be. i put more focus on my studies than my social life. 

in the back of my mind, i can't help but fear that seeing him will bring back memories of being the closed-off kid i was back then. as long as no one mentions it, everything will be okay. i repeated that to myself a few times before parking my car in the lot. removing my seatbelt as slowly as possible to buy time.

my hands are shaking as i walk to my studio. i send passing smiles to my coworkers as i make my way to the bathroom. i confirm that my hair, face, and outfit look presentable, and read over my questions one last time. 

the cameraman walks up to me as i take my seat to wait for the cast to arrive. "i just got a call; austin and drew are going to be the only ones you're interviewing today. madelyn, rudy, and  madison will be interviewed tomorrow," he says, looking for any sort of confirmation. "that sounds perfect," i say, smiling, still looking at my cards. 

i hear footsteps coming from the hallway and quickly stand up. austin and drew emerged into the room with their crew. "hello! so nice to meet you, my name is y/n," i say with a grin as i hold out my hand to them. they do the same, introducing themselves as they take turns shaking my hand. 

all three seats are now filled, so we can begin the questions. the first fifteen minutes go perfectly; we're laughing, they're thoroughly interested in the questions, and they're giving great answers. turning my attention to drew, i ask, "has this sudden change in lifestyle been difficult for you at all? to go from putting your all into basketball, to then deciding on theater in college?" 

he looks taken aback by my question. that nervous feeling in my stomach is slowly creeping back. i made sure that his sports background was easy to find online, so i was confident he wouldn't be too surprised. "wait a second. y/n? y/n y/l/n?" i can feel my cheeks flush at his realization. 

"can i be honest? i was hoping you wouldn't notice," i said, covering my face with my note cards. we are now sharing smiles. "oh my god. i sat behind you in algebra, you're the only reason i passed that class," he says in between laughs. seeing him in person has brought all of those little memories flooding back. 

after a minute or so of catching up, their team urges us on. "we've got other interviews, guys," the man says impatiently. we carry on for an additional fifteen minutes or so before i have run out of questions to ask. we said our farewells, and i thanked them for coming.

just as they were leaving, drew turned around, brushing past the guys they had walked in with. "y/n can i get your number? i would love to catch up properly whenever we both have time," he says, pulling out his phone. "yes, of course!" i smile, quickly typing in the numbers before they are once again rushed away. 

it felt like no time before my phone started dinging.

part two is here!

[grapejuicestyless]

In My DNA

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ have been seeing each other for months, but when it all ends, JJ is left to deal with the consequences of his actions.

“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” My heart pounded in my ears, the sound of crushing aluminum and dry grass crunching underneath my shoes as I followed her across the front lawn.

“JJ, stop.” She puts her hand behind her, trying to plead for me to stop following. Our chase makes a scene, even if we are alone in the open morning breeze. But the feeling of eyes looking at us makes me aware of the curious gazes of our nosy friends, with their palms pressed against the window to watch.

“No, no, I won’t stop until you tell me what I’ve done wrong!” I try to stay calm, her shaky voice already setting off my bubbling anger. I am an angry person, I have so much to be mad at the world for. Though I do not show it frequently, I find myself ticked off by the tiny things until it breaks the surface and the pent up frustration turns into bloodthirsty hate.

Y/n is a sensitive person, she has so much empathy that sometimes I worry she’ll end up destroying herself with it. She doesn’t cry often, but her mouth twitches and her eyes squint in ways that give away her emotions to any given situation, the way her lips tremble or her voice cracks gives her facade away. Shes a good person, a kind girl and a great friend. She’s far too good for me, and that’s something I’m still trying to accept. Those are just the card’s I was dealt, it’s the game I have to play.

She huffs, walking away further until the grass turns to dirt road overgrown with weeds and littered with pebbles that crunch underneath speeding tires.

“Y/n, stop!” My hand grabs her wrist, yanking her back to my body, the thump of my chest hitting her shoulder blades echoing between our bodies, leaving us breathless for a passing moment.

“What do you want from me, JJ?” She spins to look at me, really look at me. Her eyes are filled with something just short of hate and her mouth is wobbling like a child’s. She’s got this kicked puppy dog look about her that makes my heart ache, and I just can’t place why.

“I wanna talk!” I hope she can read the confusion on my face, because her sudden shortness with me after all of our peace together puzzles me. I’ve only now just realized I can’t exactly read her as well as she can read me.

“Then talk!” She shouts, pushing off of my chest but stepping forward again just so we can be nose to nose.

“Why are you so angry?”

“Why are you such a dick!” She pushes away again, spinning on her heals and rushing across the dirt path to where it becomes thick rock mixed with broken cement.

“Would you just stop!” I don’t mean to yell, not at anyone and especially not at her. I want to know why she’s so upset, not make her more worked up. I need to fix this, whatever this is.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to yell.” My calloused hands cup her arms, working her around until she faces me again. She doesn’t fight my touch, letting the warmth of my palms cover her upper arms and squeeze over the soft skin.

“Please, tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. I can’t think of anything that I’ve done to make you so angry!” Leaning forward, I try to press my forehead to hers, to breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume, get a taste of the fleeting memory of her.

She’s the closest thing to heaven, god sent, my angel. I can’t even think why she would be mad at me, not when I haven’t done anything to her.

“That’s the problem, Jay. You haven’t done anything.” She cries out desperately, trying to make me understand what she’s saying. The look in her eyes tells me she feels betrayed but I just can’t place a finger on it, so she’ll explain it for me.

“I gave you everything I had to offer and you promised me it was enough, but you keep taking things from me and I have nothing left to give.”

Oh.

Y/n is my best friend, the sweetest girl on the cut. A mind beyond her years and a heart so full and feeling, it’s hard to not love her. But poor sweet Y/n, too innocent for the cruelty of the world came knocking on my window for help. Big eyes and swollen lips, too nervous to ask anyone else for help.

I tell her over the course of a few months that I’ll help her, teach her all she needs to know. I steal her firsts out of my own greed, take them at her own pace and promise it’ll always be enough. Until I take the final things from her and she has nothing left to give up. I have nothing else to gain, and neither does she.

But I guess when hooking up with someone as soft and sweet as Y/n, I forgot just how delicate things can get, how mean it can be to just leave them.

“You are enough, nothing will change that.” I can keep telling her this, but to her theres no convincing and in some ways she smart for it, for never being naive. How can you trust someone who just up and leaves when something good becomes something they depend on? She would never know how dependent I was on her, of course, because I would never tell her how long after the night was over, when she was asleep with her cheek pressed against my chest I would stay awake a little longer just so I could keep playing with her hair or admire her face. She wouldn’t know because I’d never tell her.

“You made me feel dirty.” She says it so quietly, but her voice shakes nonetheless. Pointing fingers into my chest and backing me out into the dusty path more and more, spilling tears silently and letting them turn the dust into mud.

“I gave you what you wanted!” I try to argue, but we both know my words are meaningless. We both knew what she wanted, what we wanted, but if I play dumb maybe she’ll be less hurt by it.

“No, I gave you what you wanted! You couldn’t give me mine even if the world depended on it!” She only says these things because I’ve hurt her. I recognize that her feelings are valid, that by spending my evenings dedicated to her and then up and leaving so suddenly I’ve left an impression of greed on her. I’ve taken what she could offer and left her with nothing.

“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” I try to paint the words into her mind, let her know that I do love her, I always will, but I have to remind her who I am. Beyond the surface, I’m still a Maybank. The thought of having her and losing her just like my loved ones before me drives me crazy even just thinking about it, so I can’t let myself act on how I feel for her, because it would never be fair.

“And just because you love me doesn’t mean I feel loved by you.” When she leaves, it’s quietly, soft sniffles and heaving breaths fading into the morning sun. I feel the watchful eyes of our friends observing us like hawks, and the hateful eyes of the majority boring a hole into my head. If it wasn’t known before, it is now.

JJ Maybank, the pogue who broke the rules and paid the price for his selfishness. But really, who didn’t see this coming? It’s who I am, it’s in my DNA.

[lowkeyremi]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

pairing: k. bokuto x lene (fem!reader) note: this is a writing commission (trade) for my beautiful mootie lene!! (@satorisoup) I really hope you enjoy it lovely girl ! (anyone can read but the reader has an assigned name and gender + hair color) summary: you and bokuto have been talking to each other a lot at school, one day after he wins his game he asks if he can kiss you ! content: high school au, getting together, kisses, fluff (lmk if I missed anything!!) wc: 1.4k

At this point you aren't surprised to find a little note card wedged in your locker anymore. It's become muscle memory to see little, white cards with the scrawled hand-writing on it. Without much though you pick up the card and quickly scan over it.

Will you make it to tonight's game? I have a surprise if we win..

-KB :)

Bokuto's notes are usually very detailed, with ink splatters and scratched out words because of how excited he is to have you read them, so it's quite unusual for him to send such a neat note with no excitable writing. And what does he mean by a surprise? Well, you're bound to find out if he wins- no- when he wins his game.

"Hurry up, Lene! First period is starting soon," A good friend, Maya is waiting for you by the entrance to the building of Fukurodani. That cheeky girl has been entertaining the thought of you and Bokuto dating for some time. Ever since she saw him ask you out to homecoming (as a friend his words not yours) she has been teasing you about your crush on him.

"I'm coming! Let me change into my inside shoes!" You quickly slip out of your own shoes and put on the ones the school provides for wearing inside of school. It helps with the school's cleanliness.

You and Maya make a quick trip to your locker so you can get all of your textbooks and notebooks. "Sooooo, what did today's note say?" She's also very nosy, but how could she help it when she believes that she is the sole reason you and Bokuto are talking to each other? Maya believes that she's some kind of matchmaker.

"It said mind your business!" She leans in closer thinking you were going to actually tell her just to sigh and roll her eyes when you don't.

"Come onnnn I tell you all kinds of things." You've already decided once you've read it you would tell her, but what's the fun of saying it out right? Some teasing can occur.

"Fine fine, he asked if I would come to his game tonight." The nosy girl gasps in surprise, excitement laced in her next sentence, "Well, are you?!"

Her voice carries when she gets excited. A few looks are thrown your way, she quickly apologized before turning back to you for an answer.

"I don't know... i'm kinda busy tonight." You aren't busy at all, so you're pretty sure you'll go, but once again, it's quiet fun to tease her.

"Lene, you have to!! That's basically him asking you out on a date!" Her antics make you laugh a little bit, "That's a little extreme dont'cha think?"

"Nope! Not at all. Considering he didn't invite any of us, only you. Every time he has a game he'll ask all of us, but this is the first I'm hearing of a volleyball game." She's right, it's unusual for Bokuto to only ask you to go to one of his games.

Maybe there is a deeper meaning to his note? You're sure hoping so, because you've liked him since the your first year of high school.

"Okay, I'll go." A little smile blooms onto your face when you see your friend smile.

"Keep me updated!!!" Maya says whilst dragging you down the hall. Of course you will, because even if you don't, she'll figure out a way to get a status update.

It's around 5:45 pm when you reach the gym for his game. It started fifteen minutes ago but you had some homework that was calling your name. Once all of it was completed you had hurried to make it to the gym without missing too much of the beginning.

As of now Fukurodani is in the lead with seven points, but don't let that fool you Nekoma is right on their tail. Also, it's only the first set, this could be anyone's game.

The whole time you're on the edge of your seat, because of how exhilarating the game is. Both teams are extraordinary, Nekoma's been holding the lead but Fukurodani is able to keep up with them.

It's the last set each team has one point, so whoever wins this set will win overall. It's Bokuto's turn to serve, and before he makes his serve he looks around the crowd until his eyes lock on you.

Your cheeks immediately flush and you mouth, "You got this!"

The ace's grin almost doubles and covers his whole face. Hopefully your encouragement will help him make these serves.

The whistle blows almost immediately flipping a switch in Bokuto's head. He bounces the ball three times before tossing it up to hit it over the net.

Yaku, the ever relentless libero of Nekoma, receives Bokuto's serve. Bokuto does frown at this, Akaashi had to remind him that Yaku barely made the receive.

The final whistle blows and all of Fukurodani's supporters and cheerleaders start to scream out in joy. All the boys on the court are sweaty and somewhat tired, but they still have energy to shake hands and yell out, "Good game."

Kuroo daps up Bokuto, they give each other a pat on the back and Kuroo whispers something into Bokuto's ear that causes his cheeks to flush. The captain of Nekoma has a sly smirk on his face.

What could Kuroo have told him that has him embarrassed like this?

Everyone starts to leave the gymnasium, you stay seated though, Bokuto's note replaying in your mind.

After a few minutes the man in question appears in front of the bleachers.

"Lene! You made it!! Did you see me? Did you see us?! We won!!!" Excitement bounces off of his voice. He's so adorable that you can't help giggling.

"I did, you did amazing, Kou-kun." You two have been on first name basis for some time now.

He smiles brightly at your praise. With haste you make it down from the bleachers to meet him down on the court. His golden eyes stare into yours and you aren't really sure what to do at this point.

"Heh, I'm guessing you got my note, huh?" You nod briefly, clasping your hands together behind your back.

"Lene- I-" He pauses, frustration takes over his face. You give him time though, he needs to process his words.

"Lene! I really really like you! Like not as a friend- wait! I mean I like you as a friend but I would really like you as my-"

He suddenly stops ranting and avoids your eyes. Maybe Maya was right about why he wanted to see you. You take in a slow breath before finishing his cut off sentence.

"Girlfriend?" He smiles nervously while nodding furiously.

"Yeah, I really do like you a lot. The way you smile or laugh, your voice, your kindness, even when you scold me for something, I find myself being in awe." Your eyes soften at his confession.

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Koutaro." Those funny eyebrows of his raise up to his forehead in shock and excitement.

"Really? Gosh I must be the luckiest guy on earth!!!" Without thinking he embraces you in a hug. It's warm and inviting, and even though he does smell of sweat, it smells awfully a lot like home to you.

The athlete keeps you in his embrace for a few minutes. He suddenly breaks the silence, "Hey, can I give you a kiss? Or is it too soon?"

You want him to kiss you, so you shake your head furiously fast. "It's not too soon. I'd be happy to kiss you Kou."

He loosens his grip on you to connect his lips with yours. It's awkward and unfamiliar at first, but after the first few pecks it feels right, like his lips were made for yours.

He pulls away first in a pout, "Gosh I don't know what I'm gonna do when I become a professional athlete and I have to leave for away games. I don't think I'll survive without your lips." He's not even joking either, the way he pouts is absolutely adorable.

"I think you'll live, I'll give you plenty of kisses before you leave and plenty when you return." Butterflies swarm your tummy when you realize that he's thinking of his future with you.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 7

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 18.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Relationship drama, family teasing, parental/societal demands, light discussion of politics, handful of sex jokes, Marcus is a menace. Summary: A gesture you weren't expecting, a memorable phone call, an admission at dinner, a surprise for a friend, and one more grand gesture that you definitely *did* plan. Notes: A gif from Sabrina feels extremely appropriate for this chapter, and this one is even the outfit inspo for Birdie at a certain point. You'll see it 🧡 (Outfit inspo, but not in any way indicating her body type. Wear the clothes you love!)

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

The next few days fly by, as working on the Cameron/Wiley wedding takes up all of your spare time. The only thing you've managed to do on your second day off is to comb through their contracts and get things straightened out with their florist — an agonizing series of phone conversations that nearly ended with you going down to the shop in person — but it is finally the end of the day. You're going to make yourself eat something reasonable, which is to say not the fast food you're craving, and you're going to take your yoga mat down to the studio in Old Town for puppy yoga. It's the single greatest way to relax and destress apart from the phone calls you've been having with Marcus — three now — and while you're bummed that you won't be getting a call tonight, at least he was courteous enough to text you and let you know that he is working late on a new lead.

You've got your leggings and t-shirt on under a sweater dress and you're ready to sneak out the back of the inn with Agent Bailey when you get stopped in the lobby.

“I am sorry, there is a gentleman her to see you.” Malachi rolls his eyes. “A flower delivery. Says that he must deliver to you personally.” He sniffs, a little annoyed that he had not been left the blooms so he could be nosy about who they are from by reading the card affixed to the front. He huffs. “He must be one of those singing flower deliveries.

“So he didn’t give you the card to read?” You tease, knowing Malachi has a penchant for gossip. “It’s okay.” Looping your arm through his with a playful grin, you walk with him out to the lobby. “I’ll let you read it first.” The hope in the back of your mind is very real and present, though — thinking of the possibility that Marcus might have sent you a few buds while he’s away. Maybe as a thank you for helping Cameron, since he’s still in a relationship.

“That is the least that you can do.” He snorts sassily and is eagerly looking forward to finding out who had send you such a beautiful bouquet.

“Hi there.” Greeting the delivery man easily, you’re immediately distracted by the tall cut vase of stunning white flowers with greens strewn throughout to enhance the beauty of the arrangement. “They sent you with quite an armful, didn’t they? Let me take those for you.”

The delivery person is dressed sharply and he confirms your name with Malachi, since you are distracted with the flowers. Instead of handing them to you, he starts to sing. “Baby, I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time. And maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you. Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time. You hung me on a line.”

The striking way your face falls immediately, draining of blood and leaving your eyes wide, leaving your throat dry right along with it. “I—um—thank you. Uh…thanks. That’s enough. You—you don’t have to sing anymore.” The way you had been desperately hoping Malachi was teasing about a singing delivery has been flushed down the drain, and you fish in your purse to tip the man so he can be on his way. “Oh god,” you mumble to yourself immediately, mortified and feeling like you’re about to throw up.

It’s not uncommon for someone to not wish for the song to be finished so when you tell him to stop, he sets the flowers down on the counter and accepts the tip. The transaction has been fulfilled in his eyes and he won’t insist the song be completed. “Have a nice day.” He tells you quickly.

“Thank you.” There’s no reason to be impolite to the man even though you feel like you’re going to be sick, and instantly you know that not even the cute little puppies at yoga are going to be able to cheer you up from this. “What the hell am I going to do with these?” The question is mostly rhetorical, even though Malachi is standing right next to you. “And why the hell would he send them?”

“Is it not alright for your boyfriend to send you flowers?” He scrunches his brow in confusion. “You love flowers.”

“Mal…” Lowering your voice, you grab the lapel of his jacket and drag Malachi behind the desk to make it look like you’re talking about something work related with the flowers acting as a shield between you two and the rest of the lobby. “I broke up with Sam earlier in the week,” you confide, as quietly as you possibly can.

His eyes widen in surprise and he folds his arms over his chest in mild annoyance you have not told him before now. “What? Why? You love Sam.”

“It’s complicated.” Is the best excuse you can really give him in this exact moment, which feels weird and wrong, but the whole situation is so odd. “Only Sydney knows, so please don’t say anything? You know I prefer to keep my private life private.” Which is yet another reason that the singing telegram is not exactly your style.

“I do not know what to say.” While Malachi loves to know all the gossip and details, he does not share information. He claims he is more of a gatherer.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him, exhaling a long and haggard breath. “Just…help me look for a card or something? Sam having the delivery guy sing ‘our song’ is a little pointed, but there might be a note too.”

“Of course.” He nods and he starts looking through the massive arrangement to find a card.

“Here it is.” Tucked deep into the arrangement between the most massive white carnations you’ve ever seen, is a card in Sam’s scrawling print. Not one to go back on your promise, you hand it to Malachi first, but you have a sinking sensation that you know what it will say.

Malachi opens the card and clears his throat to start reading. “My love, I know I have much to apologize for, but I will spend as much time as it takes to win your forgiveness. Love, Sam.” He reads out loud and looks up at you. “He is begging for forgiveness, Birdie.” Ticking an eyebrow up, he smirks. “Looks like Congressman Chase is trying very hard to win you back.”

“Apparently so.” Although you can’t say that you’re thrilled about it. “Where am I going to put these flowers? This thing is enormous.”

“Your office?” He asks. “Or make it a centerpiece for the family table.”

“Emily Post says never use fragrant flowers in a table arrangement so they don’t alter the scent of your food.” The factoid — learned from your grandmother — spills out of your mouth instantly and you sigh softly. “I’ll bring them upstairs. The side table in the living room has room, and I need to call him now anyway.” Privacy is better is the implication there.

“I will send Charlie up with them.” Charlie is boy who works afternoons carrying luggage and delivering tea and meals to the rooms. As well as working in the kitchen when another pair of hands is needed.

“You’re an angel, Mal. Thank you.” It still leaves you with a phone call to make, but that is up to just you no matter what else happens.

“Of course.” Malachi nods and quickly walks off to find the burly younger man. Knowing you wouldn’t want the flowers to be downstairs for long so no one would ask questions.

Turning around again is an option, but Charlie is bringing the flowers upstairs and you’re already dressed for yoga, so you slip out the back door in the vain hope that an hour of stretching with very cute puppies will help. You can call Sam and have an uncomfortable conversation later when you’re feeling more centered.

The puppies are just what you need. Scampering and yipping through the posed arms and legs of people might not seem like it would be relaxing, but it is. And short of hearing Marcus’s voice, it’s the most relaxing thing you can possibly think of right now. Hopefully it works.

**

Fridays are always busier than any other day. Getting through the work day and having a little time to decompress before going to family dinner is always a task, but tonight you’re having an evening cup of coffee in your living room while you hammer out the scheduling assignments for the wedding which is now only one week away. Everything is falling into place, thankfully, and you’re going to give your team a big thank you for hustling to get everything ready in time.

The incoming call isn’t a normal one, and Marcus hopes you don’t mind. He wants to show you something and hopes you like it.

If he could see the smile on your face when his photo pops up on your phone screen, he would know for sure that you don't mind at all. "Hey G-man." You greet him with a voice full of sunshine, and since it's a FaceTime call he can actually see the grin this time as well.

“Hey.” Marcus grins back at you, very pleased that you seem happy to see him. “I’m sorry to call you at such a weird time, but I’m somewhere I thought you would appreciate.”

"Don't ever be sorry to call." As if to prove it, you heft the notebooks off of your lap and sit back on the couch. "Where are you?"

“The Tower of London.” He turns the camera around to show you the area.

"No!" Immediately you're sitting up in your seat again, trying to inspect the image on your phone like you might be able to climb into it if you try hard enough. "God, I miss London! Have you gotten to poke around anywhere? That whole place is so cool and so haunted."

“I’ve been allowed back into the Jewel House.” He admits. “They said that it’s okay if I’m on a video call while I’m there. Do you want to see the jewels up close?”

"Did you seriously just ask a girly girl if she wants to see the Crown Jewels? Marcus Pike you are a dream." The few minutes you have before you need to leave will be perfectly spent just like this and you grab your coffee to sip while he moves around the space.

He snorts, thankful that the camera is off of him so you can’t see that he’s blushing. “Here we go.” There is a moment that he has to wait for the doors to be unlocked, but then it’s opened up and he steps into the Jewel House.

"Did you know the Black Prince's ruby in the Imperial State Crown isn't actually a ruby?" The excitement bubbles over you with the instinctive knowledge that Marcus won't judge you for it. Getting excited about history isn't a bad thing, after all.

"What is it?" He asks, glancing around to see if he can find the Imperial State Crown to show you up close. "Oh, there it is."

"It's a balas stone." When he starts walking up to it you practically squeak with excitement. "They say Henry V wore it in his helmet at the Battle of Agincourt. Like a good luck charm."

"A good luck charm, hum?" Marcus smiles as he pushes the phone's camera closer to you can see it under the bright lights of the room. "I need one of those." He huffs. "Been running out of luck lately."

"Dead end with the case?" You ask, genuine concern in your voice despite humming over the large gem. "I hope not. You're supposed to be back in a week for Cameron's wedding."

"Nah." He doesn't want to turn the conversation to things that will bring down the mood. "Professionally, things are great." He promises. "I'm going to spend the next few days wrapping up to turn over to Interpol and I'm hoping to be back two days before the wedding."

"So..." Biting your lip is a nervous tick that you never quite got rid of, but you're smiling into the camera regardless. "Does that mean I can give my parents your RSVP for my birthday when I go to dinner tonight? Since you know you're going to be back in time?"

“Yeah.” Marcus shifts the camera back around so you can see him nod. “I’ll be there. Sorry that I’ve been gone, it’s probably sitting in my mailbox. But tell your parents I’m happily accepting the invitation.”

“I’m happy to accept it on your behalf, but since they still insist the location has to be a surprised, you’ll have to check the card for that.” Once he’s back in frame, that smile on your face gets beaming all over again. “So are there any corners of that jewel house that we peasants don’t get to see and you do?”

“Yes.” Marcus smirks and turns the camera around. “Would you like to see the personal jewels?” He asks, walking over to another door.

“You’re kidding?” Another gasp and giggle comes out of you as you readjust on your couch. There’s only one last sip of coffee at the bottom of your cup but what he’s showing you is far more exciting than hazelnut creamer. “Yes please! Absolutely.”

“Okay, but I’ve been instructed that I cannot pick up or touch any of them. So….yeah.” He doesn’t know why he would say that, it’s not like you can come through the screen and pick up the jewels.

“Oh my god…” The room that he’s in is full of cases, shelving, and careful lighting that make the stored pieces glint and glitter. They wink at Marcus as he moves about the room, teasing you through the camera and making both of you gasp or giggle alternately. It’s just such an enormous measure of opulence that taking it in together is surreal.

“What do you think? Pretty amazing, right?” He’s a little giddy, and soft, sharing this with you, even if it’s through a screen. “The sheer monetary value of this room is more than every house I’ve ever owned.”

“Same,” you huff, and laugh when he throws you a doubtful look. “We don’t own the White House. We’re just borrowing it for a while.” You remind him with a grin. “And I don’t even live there!”

“Yeah, buuuuuut…” he flashes you a grin. “You can sleep in the Lincoln bedroom anytime you want. I bet your mom wouldn’t say no.”

“You probably could too.” A little poke at the screen is the closest you’re going to get to touching him, and you hate that fact. “After the State dinner, she probably likes you more than me.”

“Nahhhh.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “You’re her daughter. She loves you unconditionally. Me? She just likes that I look good in a tux and can dance.” He reminds you. “Those are mutually exclusive things.”

“If you think she loves me unconditionally, remind me to tell you about the time I lost the fifth grade spelling bee to Maude Appleton,” you snort, nearly in giggles on the couch again. “I’m a disgrace to the family, Marcus. Truly.”

“The black sheep, huh? I can tell.” He rolls his eyes and cheekily sticks out his tongue at you. “You have a sitting President planning your birthday party.”

“One that she absolutely does not need to be throwing, and that you will be at.” The fact that he’s coming tickles you more than a little, and you grin like a moron for a moment longer before the alarm on your watch goes off. “Speaking of Madam President,” you huff a dramatic sigh and lift yourself off the couch. “That’s my cue. It’s Friday night dinner.”

“Go, enjoy your dinner with the President while I skulk around the Crown Jewels and dream of being King Marcus.” He jokes, smirking at you through the screen.

“Just remember, every king needs a queen.” The moniker First Princess flashes through your head again and your cheeks burn with it. “Or at least a Princess.”

You are moving to your door and Marcus is about to come back with slightly flirtatious comeback when he spots the gorgeously large bouquet of flowers on the table. A slap in the face reminder of who you are and despite that, you are taken. “Yeah.” The agreement is a little flat for the previous tone of the conversation. “Well, um, I better go. The President doesn’t need to be kept waiting.”

“She’s still just my mother.” The change in his tone doesn’t escape you but the reason does, and you furrow your eyebrows at the screen but swallow it down. He’s still dating Vanessa. Don’t make it weird. You remind yourself harshly. “I’ll talk to you later.” It’s always how you sign off your calls now, and you know you sound hopeful but you don’t care one bit.

“Talk later.” He agrees and disconnects the call. Staring at his Home Screen for a moment before sighs. “You’re a fucking idiot, Pike.”He grumbles. “She’s dating a fucking congressman. She doesn’t want you.” When he gets back home, he needs to look at the dating apps again. Needing to forget about you and move on.

**

Friday night dinners are ritual, soothing, although June is eager to get this particular one over with so she can go out with the potential boyfriend she had met at the party last Friday. Nervous, she exudes that kind of boundless energy she had as a child, since she likes this guy so much it surprises her.

“Someone’s in a good mood tonight.” Your father observes with a wry smirk as the five of you sit down at the table together. He’s particularly excited about dinner tonight for purely food reasons, but he likes seeing his children happy and buzzing.

“I’m going to the movies.” She volunteers, knowing that the security detail would have already informed her parents anyway.

“With Kiley?” Alex assumes automatically, knowing that Junie’s best friend is a movie fanatic. “What are you guys going to see? I might tag along.”

“No!” She’s almost spitting out her refusal and then realizing that it sounds suspicious, she backs down. “I mean, I’m not going with Kiley. You can’t come.”

“If you’re not going with Kiley…” Alex’s eyes widen as he picks up his drink, not bothering to hide his growing smirk behind the glass at all. “Did you meet somebody, Junebug? Please tell me you are smart enough not to get bamboozled by a frat boy or a post grad.”

“Shut up.” She hisses, throwing her napkin at him. “It’s none of your business and I’m smarter than that.”

“So you did meet someone.” You join the smirking too, knowing that razzing your sister is all in good fun and that you and Alex would go to the ends of the earth to protect her. “What’s their name? How’d’ya meet? Give us the dirt, Junie.”

She narrows her eyes at you, feeling slightly betrayed by you essentially ganging up on her. “I met him at the party last weekend. His name is Bryan and before you say anything…” She holds up her hand. “He is in a fraternity but he was the DD for the party.”

“Sounds responsible.” Your father commends from one end of the table. “We just want to know you’re safe, Bug. That’s all.”

“Oh, no.” Alex shakes his head as the salad course hits the table. “We want dirt.”

“He may have passed the Secret Service’s background check, but not the older sibling one,” you agree with a nod.

“Oh my ggggggggoddddddd.” June groans, dropping her head into her hand and giving a moan of embarrassment. “I think he might be my soulmate, okay?” She huffs.

The room is dropped into a vacuum as all the air is sucked out of it. Four family members sit stunned before all hell breaks loose in excitement as everyone starts talking at once.

“Why do you think so, honey?”

“Junie, that’s wonderful!”

“Holy shit, are you serious?!”

“Are you excited? Did you ask him how he got the scar on his leg?”

“I haven’t seen that scar.” June admits, groaning slightly and now worried that she might have raised everyone’s hopes for nothing. “But it’s not like it’s obvious like your tattoo.” She snorts, throwing you an amused look. “Although Agent Pike didn’t seem to think it was dumb.”

Halfway to picking up your salad fork, you freeze all over again. “Why would you say that?” The carefully affected breezy tone in your voice doesn’t fool your family for a second, and your blood is pounding your ears out of sheer fear for your baby sister’s answer.

“Oh, we talked about it while we danced.” She confirms, unaware of the turmoil she is causing. “He’s really nice. He actually didn’t make fun of where you put your hummingbird like I do.”

“June Allegra…” There is as much warning in your voice as there is fear and worry, your eyes blowing wide as they narrow on her across the table. “You told Marcus about my tattoo?”

“Was it supposed to be some kind of secret?” She asks, startled by your reaction. “I didn’t— you’ve never really hidden it before. Are you— did I do something wrong?” She throws her parents a confused look.

“I hadn’t said anything yet,” you admit, feeling sick to your stomach at the realization that Marcus has known for an entire week that you are soulmates. Through the phone calls and the chats and the work you’re doing for his friend’s wedding. He’s known, but he’s still with Vanessa. “I’ve suspected for weeks, but I didn’t…it hadn’t been confirmed…”

“Suspected what?” She’s still not grasped what you are talking about, but your mother and father exchange a very pointed glance with each other.

“Oh honey.” Your mother sighs.

June huffs. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Agent Pike is Birdie’s soulmate.” Alex’s voice isn’t nearly as teasing, more of a soft tone of understanding cutting through the tension in the room. “And you told him before she could.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure your sister quickly, but your heartbeat has leapt up into your throat. “It’s just…it’s complicated.”

“Oh shiiiiiit.” Her eyes widen and she looks like she might cry. “Why— why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t you? You’re soulmates? What about Sam?”

“I broke up with Sam.” That admission is heavy enough on its own, knowing that letting the cat out of the bag with your family is now officially necessary. “Not…exclusively because of that. But it made me think about things. And…I hadn’t told Marcus yet because I wasn’t sure. Plus, he’s seeing someone else. And I didn’t want to complicate things for him.” June really does look like she’s about to cry, though, and you get up and circle the table to hug her. “You didn’t know, Junebug. It’s okay.”

“Oh shit.” It’s not often your mother curses, but she does now. “Sam got an invitation to your birthday, I wouldn’t have dreamed of not inviting him, but if you’ve broken up….”

“I still want to stay friends with him.” The clarification is obviously important since it does change expectations a bit. “And Marcus will be home from London in time to come to the party, so please just…I will let you guys know when I’ve talked to him, okay? If I don’t say anything to you directly will you all please assume I haven’t gotten to talk to him about it yet and not say anything?”

“Damn.” Alex whistles quietly. “I thought my soulmate status was complicated.” He snorts. “You’ve got me beat, big sis.

“Your soulmate status isn’t complicated, people are just bigoted,” you toss back, knowing that Alex and David have been crazy about each other forever. They just stay quiet about it to avoid unnecessary commentary on their personal lives. Which you give them a lot of credit for, honestly. “This is…a lot.”

“Yes it is.” Your father speaks up. “And only you can decide when the time is right to talk to Marcus about this.” He agrees. “You said he was also seeing someone?”

"Yeah..." As the five of you slowly start to eat, the sick to your stomach feeling is subsiding a little and you nod. "Um...Vanessa D'Amario? She's, uh...she's Sam's aide."

Your mother winces. “Also daughter to Judge D’Amario.” She tells the table. “Federal circuit and on the short list for Supreme Court.” She would never tell you to not follow your heart, but she does want to caution you. “Just be honest and let Marcus decide what he needs to do before you take any steps.”

"I just want him to be happy." It sounds cliched, but as soon as it's out of your mouth you know it's true. That the feeling that's nestled deep into your ribcage is new love and that it's real enough to make you both selfless and just a little stupid. "If that means staying with Vanessa, I'll just have to deal with it."

Alex shakes his head. “That man is a romantic.” He snorts. “He probably is waiting for the right moment. Some big gesture.”

"I don't know what's going to happen," you admit, stabbing a piece of apple and some cheese rather violently with your salad fork. "But what I do know is that for now, I'm excited about Junie maybe meeting someone she's interested in and my birthday happening in a week." Your eyes raise to your mother on one end of the table and you offer her a lopsided smile. "You might have to tell me where the party is after all, Mom. Unless you're going to have somebody else drive me."

“I can have Marcus bring you.” She offers with a small grin.

"I honestly think he would forget how to speak if you called him." It's an enormously sweet and endearing thought, trying to wrap your head around how Marcus might react to the sitting President calling him up to ask a favor.

Your father chuckles and reaches over to take your mother’s hand. “Well, she might talk him into it if she demands a dance with him. She was grumbling about not being able to dance with your escort herself after the State dinner.”

"There's going to be dancing?" You raise your eyebrow at your mother, no longer able to get any kind of read at all at what kind of party this is going to be.

“That entirely depends on the music that you choose.” She grins at you. “Doesn’t have to be ballroom dancing. I can still break a leg.”

"It's cut a rug," June huffs, still amazed that the woman who somehow uses turns of phrase just barely incorrectly convinced an entire country to make her President.

The President laughs, aware of what the phrase actually is, she just enjoys watching her children cringe at times. “Whatever.” She huffs, waving her hand. “Either way, Birdie’s party will be wonderful.”

“That’s how your tattoo came up!” June huffs. “Your nickname. Again, I’m sorry, Birdo.”

"You couldn't have known, Junebug. It's okay." At another point in your lives you might have been the right ages for you to hold it over her head, but not anymore. You and June have just under ten years separating your ages and that difference has united you in as many ways as it's separated you. "And I'm going to be honest, along with all the different songs from the years of my life? It's a lot of 80s dance music. I gave the list to Dad when I got here."

“Perfect.” Your mom winks at you, “I loved the 80s.”

"We know, Mom." Alex snorts, shaking his head as he eats his salad. "Just promise you won't do the Running Man or the Robot or anything."

“My Robot is amazing!” She protests with a laugh, knowing that while she can dance, she’s goofy with that move. “Okay, okay I’ll resist.” She huffs dramatically.

“We acknowledge and appreciate your sacrifice,” you tease, raising your glass to your mother in salute.

“As long as my accomplishments are acknowledged.” She teases back, smiling at the three of her children. Happy that all of them are on the way to knowing their soulmates, even if they don’t choose to be with them. “So how do you feel about the idea that Marcus Pike might be your soulmate?” She asks softly. “That’s the most important thing.”

The opportunity to think about your answer while tonight’s main course comes out is appreciated, and when it turns out to be your mother’s very favourite thing on the planet — chicken cordon bleu with roasted potatoes and broccoli — the softness on your father’s face at seeing her delight reminds you of the warm, tight feeling in your chest every time you hear Marcus laugh. It tingles its way up to your cheeks and you end up smiling just hearing his name. “He’s a good man,” you say finally. “I think I’m lucky.”

She watches you with a sense of pride. “Good.” She hums and lifts her glass of lemonade. “To Birdie and Junie.” She poses. “May their soulmates be worthy of the wonderful women they are.”

“Here here!” Your father’s addition may not be long in the way of words, but he sees your reaction, and the soft way you smile, and has a feeling that things will end up okay.

June smiles, still feeling guilty for letting the cat out of the bag, but honestly she wonders if Marcus is aware that you might be soulmates. He didn’t seem to react too much from what she can remember.

“So…” Your mother sits up tall at the table and looks between her three children at the table. “Am I allowed to do a little business at supper? Since I have all of you here?”

“Oh boy.” Alex immediately rolls his eyes. “I knew we weren’t getting a great meal and there not be strings.” It’s an old joke in the family about how no one eats for free.

"Oh, you'll like yours," she waves one hand at him, unbothered by her middle child's habitual sass. "I just wanted to let all of you know that someone from my office is going to be contacting each of you in the next month or so with some opportunities for good publicity. There are plenty of websites and magazines that want to talk to the three of you and different businesses that want to be associated with you. We're going through all of it before we approve requests, and I thought each of you should be allowed to have some say in each of your approvals." She meets eyes with each of you individually, knowing what the first question will be. "And I'm sorry, but no publicity is not an option. That's why we're curating each list carefully. To keep things controlled and try to avoid things coming at any of you from left field."

June is the least social out of all of you and it’s immediately apparent that she is not happy. “Whhhhhhhhhy?” she whines. “You’re President, not us. Go adopt a puppy or something.”

"That's actually on the list," she admits, chuckling at how on the nose some of the choices are for her kids. "Since animal rights and animal welfare are the things that you've always cared the most about, we thought you might be willing to partner with a local rescue and pick out a new dog for the family." There has been a lot of time and effort put into making sure that the things being presented to each of the kids is something they actually care about and something that is representative of who they are. Hopefully that makes things a little less overwhelming for each of the kids individually.

“Wait…really?” Her parents have been loving and wonderful but the busy lifestyle they had lead hadn’t been fair to an animal. At least for a long time. The last family pet had been a cat who had died of old age when June was eight. “Are you being serious? This isn’t a joke, right?”

"They'll be your responsibility to take care of, for the most part," your mother warns, but she's glad to see the way June lights up. "I'm sure Alex will help, and Birdie too, when your sister is around. But...we know we're asking a lot of your kids. So we thought you should get something out of it, too."

“You had to wait until I’m practically out of the house?” Alex huffs playfully.

“Four years in the White House with a puppy still sounds like a pretty good time,” your dad contends. From the way he’s smiling it looks like letting Junie get a puppy was probably his idea. Even more so when he adds: “And I have some thoughts about the name.”

“We are not naming it Scout.” Alex warns him, pointing his finger at his father.

“But it’s a good name!” Your father protests in response, sending everyone into intermediate laughter and sighs. It’s always what he wants to name pets. Even the baby bird Junie rescued from the park when she was five.

“But we need something more dignified for a White House pooch.” June insists, grinning at her dad.

“Don’t tell me. You want to name the dog after Eleanor Roosevelt or Susan B. Anthony?” Alex jokes. “Why don’t we meet the pup before we name them? They might turn out to be just as goofy as the rest of this family.”

“We should get a really dopey puppy and name him Goofy.” June snickers happily. She picks up her glass. “I want to adopt.” She insists. “And make sure they are spayed or neutered.”

“I think Junie might be enjoying her assignment after all,” you observe, flashing both of your parents an impressed smile. Whatever they have for you, you’ll take the responsibility of more spotlight onto your shoulders with as much grace as you can muster. While it’s not your favourite part of your mother’s victory, it’s a very real part of how things will work for the next few years. And you did willingly sign up — for lack of a better phrase — to be as helpful as you could be.

“Good.” The President watches over all of you with a small smile and nods back at you. She knew that it would be difficult at times, but you are all handling it with as much grace and aplomb as could be expected.

“In other news.” With things going fairly well after the shock early in dinner tonight, your father is glad for the change in tone. “I hope everyone has the White House Easter Egg Roll already on their calendar.”

“I’m finding the golden egg!” Alex declares with a laugh. “There better be big money in it this year.”

“There will be prizes for the kids, and a nice lunch.” It earns Alex a smirk from your father, though. Of course it does.

“Are we supposed to do anything besides dress appropriately and be proud of you at the podium while you make a small speech?” It’s a valid question, directly aimed at your mother, but the question you’re afraid to ask is whether or not this is something they would prefer the three of you have escorts for.

“I’ve decided to change things up a little this year.” The President admits with hopeful smile. “We are bringing in one of the local orphanages, I was hoping that you and any friends you want to bring, along with my staff, would pair up with a child for the egg hunt.”

“You’re going to piss off a lot of judges and legislators with that one.” And you don’t mind pointing it out to her. It’s often seen as a privilege of the position for high-ranking government employees to get that coveted invitation for their families to attend White House events. Letting ‘just anybody’ in is a mark for your mother to the public but possibly against her to a lot of other people. “I’ll be sure to bring a whole crew.”

“Fuck ‘em.” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “It is the People’s House. That includes children that haven’t found their forever home yet.”

“Besides,” June smirks, the admiration for her mother clear as day on her face. “What are they gonna do? She’s the President. You can’t impeach somebody for being nice.”

“They are really going to be pissed when we push the homeless initiative.” She has a list of things that she wants to tackle before she has to worry about re-election or leaving the office. Honestly, she wants her record in office to do the campaigning for her.

“And we’ll be even prouder.” There hasn’t really ever been a time when you haven’t been proud of your mother, but seeing the things she wants to accomplish while in office really does hammer it home for you. If the number of homeless and unemployed drops across the country like it did in Pennsylvania while she was governor, it will be enough to put her in history books all by itself.

“Thank you all for your help, your patience and everything you put with.” Right now, there isn’t a Secret Service Agent in sight, they all stay outside of the private residence, but she knows that it chaffs sometimes.

“We’ve got your back, Mom,” you promise her, because despite being a family of sass and negotiation, the fact is that you’re all very close. The age gaps between you and your siblings have never mattered, and the bumps in the road that you’ve all weathered were manageable because you got over them together.

**

The invitation to your birthday is beautiful and Marcus smiles when he sees the theme. Finally home, there’s plenty of mail to open and things to do before he changes and runs over to the inn for the wedding rehearsal.

His cell phone is perpetually on his person, always ready to go at a moment’s notice, but he isn’t expecting any calls. He’s just concentrating on getting through his stack of mail and getting his head on straight when his phone goes off. The word Private across his phone screen isn’t necessarily unusual, but having just come home from a case, there is an uncomfortable possibility that this is work related.

“Special Agent Pike.” He tucks the phone under his chin as he sets the mail down, pulling out a notebook in case it’s someone about a case.

“Good afternoon, Agent.” The President’s voice is distinct and recognizable to anyone who has heard her speak as many times as a government agent has, but she introduces herself anyway. Arrogance isn’t a characteristic she typically has. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Marcus straightens immediately and wonders if something is wrong. “What may I help you with?” The President of the United States is calling him, he is going to do whatever she needs.

“I know you have an important night, so I won’t keep you.” She is well apprised of the wedding you are coordinating in just two days’ time. You’ll be missing family dinner for it, but your business and your integrity are important enough to take precedence. “But I’m afraid I have to ask a small favor of you, if I may? Are you Stateside again, Agent Pike?”

“Yes Ma’am, I am.” The fact that she knows he was out of the country means you talked about him with her, even if it was concerning the invitation to the party. It warms him in a way that it shouldn’t, given your relationship with Congressman Chase. He knows that whatever the favor, he will gladly do it. “Whatever you need, I’ll be happy to help.”

“It’s small,” she promises with a chuckle. Just as you had said — and as she had seen a little bit of at the State dinner — Marcus Pike is an earnest sort of man. “I was hoping you would be willing to pick Birdie up for her party on Saturday to bring her to the venue? The location is a surprise and I know she’d appreciate being able to ride in with you.” Instead of one of her siblings is the end of the sentence in her mind, but these days she’s fairly certain that you would pick Marcus Pike over almost anyone.

“Of course.” He agrees immediately, almost without thought, but he wonders why Sam isn’t bringing you. He opens his mouth to ask, but quickly shuts it before anything comes out, deciding he doesn’t want to know if there’s some birthday surprise involving the congressman. “What time do you want me to have her walk through the door?” He asks instead.

“Seven-thirty would be ideal.” The invitations say to arrive at seven, and she wants everyone assembled at the club before you get there. “She’s never been to the Statesman Club, I checked with Sydney. So she shouldn’t have any idea where you’re bringing her. And don’t let the half-hearted protests convince you of a thing. She loves a surprise.”

Marcus chuckles quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He promises. “Seven-thirty.” He repeats. “I’ll have her there on time. Will Agent Bailey follow us or ride with us?” He asks.

“She will follow.” In fact, as a mother, she made sure of that. The chance to give you and Marcus some time alone seemed important. “Hopefully nothing will be complicated, and everything should be fun. I do appreciate the favor, Agent. It won’t go unremembered.”

“I am happy to help.” He feels slightly strange about having the President feel indebted to him, not that he would use it for anything at all. “Sincerely.”

“Wonderful.” There’s a smile in her voice, but a finality as well. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have fun at the rehearsal dinner tonight and the wedding on Friday.”

He’s surprised she knows the plans, but why, he’s not sure. You are close to your mother and he doubts you don’t talk about your work. “Thank you Madame President.” He hums quietly. “Have a good evening.”

“Good evening. And thank you again.” The call clicks off with a pleasant tone, and the President smiles to herself on the other end, knowing you didn’t think she would actually go through with having Marcus bring you to your party.

Marcus just stares at the phone for a moment, feeling like that was a surreal moment. He’s certainly never had the President call him for a favor before. Chuckling to himself, he moves towards the bathroom, needing to shower before he gets dressed for the rehearsal.

**

The rehearsal dinner truly is the easiest part of this process. For you, at least. You’ve done large handfuls of them in the past to be a help to Juan, and the number of people at this particular rehearsal is going to be incredibly small. Cameron and her fiancé had asked for just a family style meal after the actual rehearsal and you had set up a round dinner table in the gazebo in the grounds for them to enjoy their night with a few friends and family in relative privacy. Per your usual protocol, everyone working the wedding will be in black tonight and for the ceremony on Friday, and you’ve set yourself into a long-sleeved black blouse and cigarette pants for tonight with a smart pair of flats to complete the Audrey Hepburn look. There was a lot of back and forth about it between you and Sydney and Juan, but now that you know Marcus knows about your soulmate status? You’ve got to talk to him tonight. You may even have a few surprises up your sleeve, since you had to change your plans for that grand, romantic gesture.

Marcus tries to make his outfit seem casual, a more tailored suit than he wears at work, no tie. Loafers instead of dress shoes. He shows up right as Cameron and Michael do. Smiling as they get out of their car and he hugs the bride, shaking the groom’s hand. “You survived.” He jokes.

“Thanks to you.” Cameron — Joyce outside of work and to her friends and family — happily hugs Marcus instead of shaking his hand. “I don’t know what you said to her but she has bent over backward to make this happen and we’re so grateful.”

“I just asked her for a favor.” He admits with a sheepish grin. “That’s all.”

“Well, then she’s an amazing friend and we’re grateful for that, too.” She’s absolutely beaming in her white floral sundress and happily ready for this week’s celebrations. As stressful as everything had been, it has also been wonderful to feel like the day isn’t in jeopardy after all. “How was the case?”

“Interesting, but I want to focus on you and Wiley.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out an envelope. “I want to help with the costs. I know you guys got screwed having to pay twice.”

Cameron shakes her head adamantly, touched by the gesture even though it isn’t necessary. “We didn’t have to pay twice,” she tells him, acknowledging how remarkable that is. “I don’t really know what she did, but she hasn’t asked us for any money. The whole thing is just…it’s been a miracle.”

“Wow.” Marcus’s eyes widen and he wonders if you managed to get the other venue to cover the costs, but he knows in his heart, you just aren’t charging them. “Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re sure.”

“You’ve already helped us so much.” As a coworker and a boss, Marcus is fantastic. But as a friend? She will always be grateful for everything he’s done. Their long friendship has been through plenty of ups and downs, but this is above and beyond any call of duty that she could possibly think of. “Are you…still okay with walking me down the aisle?“

“I am looking forward to it…although…if you want someone else to do that, I understand.” Marcus hums as you walk outside to greet them.

“Joyce, Michael, you look fantastic. How are we feeling tonight?” You are nothing but professional smiles despite your own nerves for the various things that are set to happen tonight. Hopefully it will all be emotional in good ways only. “I’m glad you were able to get back in time, Marcus.”

“Me too.” He smiles politely, trying not to moon over how good you look. It makes him want to reach out and pull you into his arms, although that’s not right. “Are we all set?”

“Just about.” There’s a tingling in your fingers and the nervous butterflies in your stomach bottom out, but things are as ready as they’re going to be. You’re not about to steal the thunder from this couple on such an important night, but Marcus looks so good in his more casual and stylish suit that you have to remind yourself that you can’t just drag him upstairs. “Let’s take a walk out to the back and I’ll just give you a few moments to say hi to everyone before we get in place for the rehearsal. Okay?”

“That sounds good.” She’s excited, of course she is, but she’s also very disappointed. Wishing that she had her family here. The upside is that Marcus and her other friends are the best kind of family she could ask for.

“We’ve set up a table out in the gazebo for dinner. It should fit all eleven of you just fine.” A slight smile touches your lips, knowing that the couple only told you to expect nine for the rehearsal. The first surprise of the night is waiting for them out in the garden.

Cameron frowns slightly, tilting her head as she catches the error. From what you’ve shown her, you don’t make mistakes. “Eleven?”

“Eleven.” Waving one beckoning hand, you head out to the garden with Marcus, Cameron, and Michael in tow.

There are big batches of raspberry iced tea ready for tonight and all the guests gathered in the garden have glasses already. A few people are chatting but mostly they are looking around, inspecting early flowers blossoming in the flower beds from the warm spring, and the large planters that have already been brought in to be part of the decor for the wedding. In amongst the guests — the joyful friends and select family members who had offered continuous support — are Agent Cameron’s parents.

“Mom? Dad?” Cameron’s tone is nearly disbelieving and that makes Marcus’s heart hurt.

Mr. Cameron unwinds his arm from around his nervous-looking wife’s waist and rubs his hands together. “I hope we aren’t crashing your party.” He wants to set her and Michael at ease that they aren’t here to cause trouble. “I got a call from your boss a few days ago.” He glances over at Marcus briefly before turning his attention back to his only daughter. “Who told me, in much more eloquent terms, that I was a horse’s ass and would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t support you and Wiley.” He explains. “Your mother and I….we would like to come to the wedding and if it’s possible, maybe I could give you away?” He hopes that she will let him but if not, he would understand.

“Really?” A grown woman of more than thirty years, Joyce Cameron tears up immediately and clutches her fiancé’s hand while staring — gob smacked — at both of her parents. The whole thing doesn’t even register for a few seconds before she looks over at Marcus with a watery smile. “I don’t know a lot of people who can say their boss saved their wedding, and this is so much more than just one day.” She turns to hug Marcus fiercely before walking the six steps across the lawn she needs to embrace both of her parents.

Michael hangs back, giving his fiancée her moment with her parents as he turns to look at Marcus in astonishment. “How?” He demands, making the older man shrug.

“I asked them if they would be proud of the union if you shared marks.” He tells him. “They said you were a good man, and I reminded them that is all they should want for their daughter. A good man. One who treats her like a queen. And she’s found that. In you.”

"I guess it took somebody from the outside." Wiley shrugs, though, watching his fiancée hug her parents with happy tears in her eyes. "She deserves this, Marcus. Thank you." He murmurs, before stepping up to shake his soon-to-be father-in-law's hand and leaving Marcus standing with you on the edge of the garden.

Marcus smiles, happy that he has been able to help Joyce again, even if it means that he’s lost out on walking her down the aisle. He will happily be relegated to just a guest in this case. After a minute or so of quiet where Marcus doesn't step away from you, you nudge his side playfully with your elbow. "It's good to see you in person again."

“Glad it’s not accompanied by screaming parents, disturbing the peace and police reports.” He snorts, turning and giving you a friendly grin. It’s all he can muster but hopefully it’s believable. “But at least I didn’t get thrown into the dungeon for trying to steal the jewels.”

"They were very meek and apologetic when they got here," you assure him. The maid of honor — a cousin, apparently — had been shocked to see them but things had gone okay after the initial surprise wore off. For now, it's only good things with this wedding party so you can turn your attention to Marcus. "It would've caused quite a scandal if I had to go over there and bail you out, so I'm also glad you didn't get into any scrapes across the pond. I don't know if my curtsy is good enough for groveling."

He laughs slightly and then looks back at the older couple talking with the younger one. The relief is staggering from both sides and he sighs happily. “Guess I’m out of the rehearsal.”

"No reason you can't stay." It probably comes out too quickly, but the last thing you want is for him to leave. Not when you have...things you want to say. "You're the hero of the night. Stay and have a little supper, at least. I'm sure they don't want you to go."

“I wasn’t planning on leaving just yet.” He assures you. “Not when I can stay and bask in the happiness that my meddling worked.”

"Bask in it all you like. You earned it." Just like you're basking in this — just standing here beside him while the warmth of his presence washes over you like an exquisite sunset.

“Just like you.” Marcus turns towards you. “Are you not charging them? Or did the other place pony up some money?”

"I couldn't bear to charge them anything," you admit, shrugging your shoulders slightly. It's not something you're doing for the praise — it's something you're doing for the love of him as much or more than any other reason. "Derby Farms' lawyers are putting together compensations for all the clients who lost their dates and deposits and all...and it covered the expenses here. They already paid for their wedding once. And Sydney's food is better than what they serve anyway."

“So let me give you this.” He pulls the envelope out of his coat again. “To help. Because you just said they ‘are’ not they ‘have’.” He points out. “You have expenses.”

"You don't have to do anything, Marcus." Pressing the envelope gently back toward him, you just shake your head once so you don't draw any kind of attention from the happy wedding party or their officiant as he gets them all into order. "You asked me for a favor and I take that very seriously."

“I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t be paid.” He huffs, knowing that your time is precious and you have worked miracles with the short amount allotted.

"I know. But this is...it's more than just a few days of business. It's their happiness. And—" Your head tilts slightly, knowing that you didn't plan for this kind of timing but now you have a bit of extra time. "Do you...would you mind if we...talked? Just for a couple of minutes, since the rehearsal will go perfectly smoothly without either of us?"

Marcus feels his stomach flip and he swallows slightly, wondering why you want to talk to him. “Sure.” He says breezily.

You nod to the right, to where one of the small outbuildings that you use as a staging area has been staged for tonight, instead. Set up with twinkle lights and a little set of Bluetooth speakers and a small something for Marcus, you feel like you're visibly shaking as you walk to what used to be a shed and is now quite fixed up and neatly painted. The lights and music aren't on — not wanting to force a romantic mood on him in case he reacts poorly in any way to what you have to say — but privacy is good regardless.

"I...before anything else, I owe you an apology," you start, inhaling and exhaling deeply once the thin door has tapped shut behind you both.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” His rebuttal is automatic, along with the frown on his face.

"Yes I do." The nerves are running through you like lightning strikes, but you wrote out all of what you wanted to say and if you get through half of it you'll be very proud of yourself. "I kept something from you. Something important. And I thought I had kept a lid on it until I was prepared to really explain why I kept quiet. But then I found out at family dinner last week that Junie had gone and spilled the beans on me at the State dinner and I just..." Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. "I should have told you that I suspected we were soulmates right away. And I didn't. So I'm sorry, I just hope you'll let me explain why."

Marcus freezes and he wants to walk away. Fear, true fear curling in his gut. The fear of being rejected by the person the universe had said was supposed to be his. To realize that he wasn’t good enough for anyone. “You don’t—” he shakes his head. “Please don’t. Not right before Cameron’s wedding.” He asks softly.

"I know." You hang your head in turn, the bravery evaporating from you far faster than the weeks it has taken you to build it all up. "You're seeing Vanessa. And that's part of why I kept things to myself. If you really—" Nearly hiccupping at the idea of full-on rejection when you had been dreaming of any other reaction, you nod dumbly and try not to look as crestfallen as you feel. "I'm sorry. I should have kept it to myself a while longer, I guess."

Marcus chuckles dryly, surprised that he can in a moment like this. “I went to her after the State dinner.” He admits, looking down at his loafers and wishing he was still in the wedding after all. “I needed to tell her that I— that it was— to end things.” He sighs and gives a self-amused smirk at the ground. “Only to get dumped before I could open my mouth.” He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets. “She apparently discovered who her soulmate was.”

"When it rains, it pours." Your laugh is hollow, still afraid, and you twist your arms behind your back nervously. "So...all the phone calls...all the times I swore to myself I wasn't going to flirt with you on the phone...we've both been single the whole time?"

“You’re dating Sam.” He murmurs, as if to remind you even though it’s odd you would say that. It is too much of a hope to have that you had ended things with him.

"I told you at the State dinner that I was ending things." Although it does, somehow for the very first time, occur to you that you didn't actually tell him you had done it. "I meant it. I broke up with him the next day."

“Why?” The question is quiet, although he would normally never pry, he needs to know.

"Do you want the complete or abridged list of reasons?" Attempting at humor falls short, and you find yourself swallowing down that fear mixed with bile that is threatening to bubble up your throat. "Well... whichever list you pick... this biggest reason is... is actually you." Inhale. Exhale. Try to remember everything you wrote down over the last week. "Because from the moment you walked in the front door of the inn, you took my breath away. And not just because you're handsome, although I admit that's undeniable. It's the way you seem to make things effortless. Easy conversations and god you have the most incredible laugh. It's like music. Everything about you has just built up and built up and... and somehow it isn't just oh, I like Marcus more than I like Sam. It's the way something inside me started tugging toward you right away and I didn't know what it was. All the cracks in the veneer I had built up of convincing myself that I was happy before... I've been happier being friends with you than I was in that entire relationship."

As the rambling boils over, the small speech you prepared is abandoned, and for better of your worse you find yourself laying your heart bare right there on the floor of the work shed. "I told myself I couldn't tell you that I was falling in love with you until I had made sure that I was doing it for the right reasons, but I don't even know what the right reasons are anymore. I just... know that my entire life I've felt like I was reaching for the moon. And every time you smile at me, it makes me feel like the moon is reaching for me, instead."

There’s a moment when his heart stops. Skips a beat or just falters from the emotions. Recognizing the line, it’s almost embarrassing how misty his eyes become. “You quoted Sabrina.” He murmurs, finally able to catch his breath and pure pleasure rushes through him when he realizes that this isn’t the ‘sorry we can’t’ speech he had been anticipating. “I didn’t want cause you problems.” He admits softly. “But I was – expecting this to be more of a reasons why you couldn’t be with me, speech. So you’ve surprised me.”

He smiles at you again. “From the moment I met you, I felt like I knew you. That you were someone precious to me.” He whispers. “And you are. Not just for the ridiculous tattoo we share—” he jokes, reaching for your hand. “But because of the woman you are. Hardworking, kind, smart, generous, beautiful – inside and out.”

His touch soothes and burns all at once, scorching you and making you feel lighter than air. All the grand, elaborate plans you made have gone out the window, and now it’s just you and Marcus standing together alone with your hearts in your throats. “Every realistic way I imagined this going…most of them ended in a polite denial or a reminder that you’re seeing someone,” you admit, exhaling a shaky breath. “I almost don’t know what to do now.”

“Neither do I.” Marcus can only laugh because he’s so hesitant right now. So sure you had wanted to just pretend he wasn’t your soulmate, he hadn’t even realized he had discounted the possibility you wanted the connection.

“I had a whole plan.” A fact which now makes your cheeks burn just as much as your hand is where he’s still holding it. “It was much more romantic than just spilling my guts to you all at once, I promise.”

“A plan?” He frowns slightly in confusion.

Not willing to take your hand back from him, you reach over with your free one and flip a few light switches — turning off the main lights in the small room and turning on the twinkling fairy lights instead. The small Bluetooth speaker crackles to life to begin playing Edith Piaf’s La Vie en Rose, and a small, cylindrical box nearby holds a single, ivory Eternity rose. Opening it now feels almost backward, but you still want Marcus to have the small token of your affection. “My first thought was honestly to whisk us both off to Paris for a weekend,” you admit, laughing at your own romanticism. “But when I reined myself in a little, I realized that all I really want is to spend time with you. So… Marcus Pike…” you hold out the wax treated rose just like a nervous high schooler and admit to yourself that that is how you feel right now. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

He’s been asked out before, he has. He’s been hit on in bars or through dating apps, but this feels significant, because no one has ever put a lot of thought or effort into doing something for him. “Maybe Paris next weekend.” He chuckles, taking the rose and reaching out to cup your face with it in his hand. “This weekend we have a wedding and a birthday party.” He hums softly. “And maybe the flea market on Sunday?” He would say a baseball game, but the season hasn’t started yet.

“I’d really like that.” With his hand there it’s nearly impossible not to lean into his palm, and the feeling of nearly shaking apart with excitement shoots through you again. “As long as…” The nerves return, but you swallow them down carefully. “You don’t mind being seen out with me? People tend to take notice these days… and there’s always a chance of being photographed. Well… you saw the papers after the dinner…”

“I don’t care if the whole world knows that I’m out with you.” Marcus murmurs softly. “I’ll be proud to stand beside you. Not because I want any kind of fame or recognition, but because I’m with you.” He smiles. “Although sunglasses and a baseball cap work wonders for making people second guess if you want anonymity.”

“We’ll have to give it a try.” You’re beaming at him, absolutely grinning from ear to ear, and the feeling of rightness in this moment is nearly overwhelming. “I would’ve told you all this two weeks ago if I’d known on that first phone call that we were both single already. But I’m glad we got to do this face to face instead.”

“Getting away was best.” Marcus admits softly. “I was having a hard time reminding myself that you weren’t available.”

Nuzzling your cheek into his hand is as easy as breathing, and you laugh softly. “I think if you had asked, I would have come running.”

He smiles and gazes at you softly. “This is real? I’m not dreaming?” He jokes.

“If you’re dreaming, then we both are.” It’s nice to know you’re not alone in this giddiness, and even getting lost in his eyes at this moment feels like a gift.

“Sweetheart…” Marcus brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek. “May I kiss you?” Even if you are his soulmate, and want to be with him, you deserve to be asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” you admit after a soft laugh. “I’m glad we’re already on the same page.”

“Good.” Marcus is stepping closer the second you say that. His other hand on your hip gently and he smirks slightly. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to kiss you during that dance.”

“About half as badly as I wanted to kiss you?” It’s good that you didn’t, of course. Not in front of so many people and while you were both still attached to others. But now? In privacy? Your heart is beating wildly out of time. “Please?”

Marcus is happy that his lips aren’t chapped, pressing them together and then parting them slightly. Watching you in wonder as he leans in.

The knock that comes just a second before your lips meet is probably the single most unwelcome interruption in history, and the disappointed sigh you let out when you hear your name called from the other side is practically a growl. "I'll be right there!" You call back, wishing you'd just hesitated slightly less and gotten to that kiss a touch faster.

He chuckles quietly and his own sigh of frustration is smothered. “Duty calls.”

"Hold that thought." You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and give him a gentle hug before turning around to shut off the electronics of your little surprise. He's still holding the rose bud with its trimmed stem, and you gently tuck it into his lapel with a smile. "I'll make it worth being interrupted, I promise."

“It’s okay, Birdie.” He uses your nickname for the first time. “You take care of what you need to.”

"If they're done it means it's time for dinner." It's still his friend's night, even if something has also happened here for you and for Marcus. "Come on." As much as you don't want to, you both have to go back out there. "Sydney made a ton of panzanella salad, giant pans of lasagna and these amazing parfaits of Madagascar vanilla panna cotta, raspberry jam, and pistachio brittle. I can't allow you to miss this dinner." It absolutely sucks to have to open the door, but you're practically beaming you're smiling so hard. "Sydney can't get over the fact that you were talking her up to José Andrés, by the way. I think you have a private chef for life."

“That sounds amazing.” He groans, having missed the last few meals due to traveling. “And I was only telling the truth.”

Coming out of the work shed, you see the wait staff starting to bring beer around to the table — as requested by the couple instead of wine or champagne with their casual rehearsal meal — and you nod toward the gazebo. “Go join your friends. I’m going to go check in in the kitchen and make sure Syd has everything under control.”

“Talk later?” He asks seriously, lifting a brow at you. There’s a lot to talk about obviously, but he does want to kiss you.

“If you want to stay late, I’m not going to be upset.” As soon as it’s out of your mouth you realize it could be taken as an overnight invitation, and while that wasn’t what you meant originally, you’re also not going to turn him away if he wants to stay the night. Apparently your old tendency to be fast-moving in potential relationships is back with gusto.

He smiles softly and nods, trying not to read into it, but he will be talking to you later.

Telling yourself you’re walking back to the main building at a reasonable pace, you know you’re racing when you bust in the back door and practically fling yourself into the kitchen as the waitstaff is bringing dinner out to the wedding party.

“There you are!” Sydney is rushing around, checking everything as she grins at you. “You disappeared on me.”

“Sorry.” In all honesty, you hadn’t expected things to go so well, and you were happily tucked away in a little vortex where time didn’t exist. “I lost track of time…talking to Marcus.”

“Oh!” She immediately stops and comes over to you. “How did it go?” She knows you’ve been worrying over possibly the most important conversation of your life.

Absolutely deadpan — or at least as close to it as you can get right now — you tilt your head at Sydney. "I'm firing your head server for interrupting us before he could kiss me."

“Done.” She snaps her fingers playfully. “Gone.” She insists. “Oh my god! He was going to kiss you! How did— so obviously he’s not upset, right? Unless it was going to be an angry kiss? But I don’t see Marcus being an angry kisser. Do you?” She’s rambling because she’s happy, ecstatic for you really. Now dreaming of a happily ever for you.

“It was definitely not angry.” Now that Syd is bubbling over too, you start giggling all over again. “We’re going to go out on Sunday, which means we’re spending like half the weekend together.”

“Half?” She snorts and shakes her head. “You mean all.” Holding up her hand she smirks. “Wedding Friday, you are going to attend and you know it.” She holds up one finger. “Then your birthday party.” She holds up another finger. “And now a date on Sunday.” She holds up three fingers altogether. “That’s all the days of the weekend, my love.”

"I will be working the wedding and seeing him for part of each day doesn’t mean he’ll want to see me all day." Even as primly as you try to present it, you know she's right, and the giggles boil over once again. "He's got the rose in his lapel and I can't wait for him to realize that it's the special kind that's been treated to last for years."

“And in return, he’s going to support you like you’ve never been supported before.” She snicker, beaming at you. Now that Sam is gone, she’s realizing how much more enthusiastic you are about the inn again. Like the zeal had been suppressed when you were with him. Or maybe planning this wedding is what has snapped you out of the funk.

“There was a dirty pun in there somewhere,” you observe, giving her a playful side eye. “Or maybe I just hope there was.”

She smirks and waggles her brows at you. “Are you needing a good romp, Birdie?” She asks playfully.

“Listen.” Wagging a finger at her, you blow out a breath and lower your voice, making sure no one else can hear you. “There nothing wrong with missionary. Nothing, as long as it’s done right. But a girl likes a little variety.”

“You mean you want your hair pulled while you’re railed from behind and he slaps your ass right above that dirty little tattoo and calls you his filthy, gorgeous little cum dumpster?” She winks wickedly at you.

Your deadpan expression comes back just long enough to tease her, and you put one hand on your best friend’s shoulder seriously. “Thanks for the insight into how my goddaughter was conceived.”

“You’re welcomed.” She snorts, laughing at herself. “I wel-cummed too!”

“Oh my Fuckin god.” Snorting, you turn away to grab your clipboard and try to compose yourself but are still laughing when you head for the door again. “Okay. I gotta back out there and pretend I’m not thinking about fucking that gorgeous man in the bathtub. Byyyyyeeee.”

“Byyyyyyyyeeee!” She afflicts the same tone you do and waves happily before diving back into making sure every dessert is perfect.

**

For a wedding that has been so fraught with stress, the rehearsal dinner goes perfectly. Dinner is delicious and by the end of the night, it’s obvious that Cameron and her soon-to-be husband are feeling both much more relaxed and more excited for their big day.

“Tonight is about you.” Marcus lifts his beer in a toast and smiles at them. “In two days, you will be married.” He chuckles. “And then I don’t want to see you in the office for two weeks.” He tells his agent fondly.

“She’ll be in good hands, I promise.” From the edge of the gazebo, you offer everyone a smile.

“You have planned everything perfectly.” Cameron smiles and stands quickly, walking over to hug you.

“It’s been my pleasure,” you assure her honestly, giving the very sweet bride a squeezing hug back. “I forgot how much I enjoy the hustle of wedding planning.”

“You have done such an amazing job. I would never know you didn’t do it all the time.” She promises you.

"I'm glad you're not upset to be stuck with second fiddle while Juan is out of town. I promise I consulted him every step of the way." The two of you exchange another hug as people start to get up from the table, all of them milling about and not quite ready to say good night. "You have a spa day tomorrow for your bachelorette right? Enjoy it."

“My mom is coming with me too.” For a moment, she looks like she’s going to cry again. Only happy tears though. “I can’t believe it.”

"Bask in that happiness, Joyce. You deserve it." Over the past two weeks it's become very routine for the two of you to check in with each other, and the text message thread you share has been as cram full of memes, music recommendations, and little affirmations as anything else. It's an unexpected start to a friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

“I can’t believe Marcus called them.” Even hearing it from them again, she’s still in awe. Especially because they had changed their minds. “I just wish Michael’s parents would be here. That would make it perfect.”

"They might need a little more time to come around, but don't let that hold a cloud over your day." You squeeze her arms gently in both hands, prompting both of you to smile. "It's going to be a wonderful day no matter what. You get to marry the man you love. That's what matters."

“That is all that matters.” She smiles in that giddy, secretive way as her eyes automatically drift over to where her fiancé is talking with Marcus and her father. Looking a little more dreamy when she sees the man she will create a life with.

"Go on." Nudging her a little and grinning, you have to acknowledge that at least half your smile is for Marcus, but it's a private acknowledgement. "Have a fantastic day tomorrow and I'll see you Friday morning to start getting ready."

“I will.” She promises. “And when we come back, I want to take you and Sydney out to lunch. One that she doesn’t fix.”

"Deal. We'll want to hear all about the honeymoon anyway." As soon as you agree she's skittering off again, excitable and oh so ready to spend some time with her almost husband.

Somehow, Marcus has been talked into a round of golf with Cameron’s father and Michael tomorrow, although he’s not sure how that happened.

You don't butt in and don't eavesdrop, just quietly start clearing the table of dirty dishes and loading up trays with silverware and glasses to be brought back inside to clean. The party has already started slowly wandering across the lawn to the parking lot so you know it won't be too much longer before you can shut down and get upstairs. If Marcus is too tired after everything to want to talk tonight, you'll absolutely understand. It's not like you won't see him again in just two days' time.

Marcus says goodnight to everyone and looks around, finding another tray of dishes loaded up to take inside and he picks it up. Assuming you are already taking more back and he can help you clean up.

When he walks into the kitchen with a full tray to hand off to the dishwasher, your already bright smile gets impossibly bigger. “You’re a guest,” you remind him, lifting the tray from his hands and reveling in the tiniest touch of skin to skin regardless of how fleeting it is. “You don’t have to clean up.”

“And you shouldn’t have to do everything when I have two empty hands.” Marcus replies with a grin.

“As helpful as you are handsome.” Now that the line has been crossed — now that you can — flirting is probably going to bleed through into just about everything.

He doesn’t know exactly how to respond to that enthusiastic flirtation, so he just shrugs slightly, aware of how his cheeks are heating up. “I try.” Is all he can muster.

“Sorry,” you cringe for a second, realizing you might have stepped too far over that newly crossed line, and you bit your lip. “Too much?”

“No.” He shakes his head quickly, not wanting you to feel like you have done something wrong. “Not at all. It’s just—” he shrugs self-consciously again. “I liked it, a lot.”

“Okay.” The momentary pause with both of you smiling at each other like star struck idiots is broken by the sound of Sydney clearing her throat.

“Go,” she insists to you, even making a shooing motion with her hand. “We’ve got clean up. Go upstairs.”

“I— are you sure?” Marcus frowns slightly, aware that Sydney is pregnant and has to be tired.

“I have tons of help.” Motioning around the kitchen before she shoos you again, Syd considers his concern for her an extra mark in his favor, but insists. “Seriously, go on. And don’t let her do any more work tonight. She’s been going nonstop without the benefit of a whole staff to help her.”

“I won’t.” Marcus promises, looking back at you. “I’ll make sure she does nothing but relax.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” Sydney grins, throwing you a wink before turning back to the tray of things she was unloading.

He doesn’t know what all was said, but obviously there’s been a conversation between you and your best friend. “Do you want to buy a bottle of wine to take upstairs?” He suggests.

“Sounds perfect.” More than anything it implies that he wants to stay for a little while, and you’re very happy to hear that.

He figures that will let you relax; you can have some time to talk and then you can go to bed after he leaves. “Okay.” He smiles. “Any particular bottle you’re fond of?”

“I don’t know a whole lot about wine.” You had been trying to absorb whatever Sam had told you about a particular bottle or style, but it hadn’t been sticking well. “I’ve been sticking with sweeter wines, but if you have something you like I’d love to try it.”

“Sweet.” He decides it’s a perfect time to flirt back. “I’ll try to pick one that’s as sweet as you are.” He promises before he walks out of the kitchen to look at the wine rack.

"If you'll excuse me." Glancing over at Sydney, both of you grin at each other. "I'm going to go scream into a pillow about how cute that man is."

“Maybe you’ll scream into a pillow for a different reason.” She teases, throwing you another wicked wink. “Go get your soulmate, Tiger.”

While you absolutely would not mind, you don't think that's on the docket for tonight. Still, you smack a kiss on your best friend's cheek and head down the hallway to find Marcus coming out of the bottle room with a bottle of Riesling in hand. "Find something you approve of?"

“I think this will satisfy us both.” He hums, smiling at the sight of you. “Are you hungry? We could order something to be delivered.”

"I have the makings of an excellent charcuterie in my fridge upstairs, if you're interested?" While the wedding party ate, you picked minimally at a small bowl of salad and gotten some other things done, so a snack along with your wine sounds perfect. "If nothing there looks good to you, there are lots of places that deliver."

“I always love a good charcuterie.” Marcus admits, nodding easily. “As long as you are content. I notice you didn’t eat much and I’m sure you didn’t eat in the kitchen when you were running around.”

His caretaking tendencies are endearing, and since he had mentioned to you before that his ex wasn't a fan of them, you offer him a sincere smile. It's...sort of remarkable the way he notices things but you have to think that some of that comes out of his professional training. "You were supposed to be having fun, not keeping an eye on me," you chide gently as you walk together toward the elevator. Agent Bailey is keeping her distance but always present, trying to give you a bit of privacy while still doing her job.

“It’s hard not to notice a beautiful woman.” Marcus comes back easily. “Especially knowing what we know now, it’s impossible.” He isn’t going to rush you, not on the heels of a previous relationship, but he wants to get to know you. Learn more about his soulmate.

"That makes me feel slightly less self-conscious about always feeling like there's a magnet in my eyes whenever you're around," you admit. The elevator dings on the bottom floor, expelling two guests, and the three of you get in together once it's empty.

“I felt extremely guilty about how interested I was in you, from the very beginning.” He admits softly. “But I never would have said a word. That invitation to dinner was just a friendly invite.”

"That's all I took it as. And how I meant it when I accepted. It's just...that interest has always been there. For both of us, I guess." The ride to your apartment in the attic doesn't take long. It's only four floors, after all.

“Good. Soulmate or not, I don’t— cheating is not something I approve of or want to engage in.” He assures you. It’s not like being a soulmate would prevent cheating, there are still crappy human beings in the world.

"Cheating is really my biggest...I won't call it a trauma from earlier relationships, but definitely the issue that weighs most heavily on me. I absolutely do not and cannot condone it." The door to your apartment swings open easily and Agent Bailey steps inside to do her usual check of things before settling onto a chair by your door. Marcus has only been to your place once, but it's not exactly large so it's easy to see pretty much everything from the front entry. "My agents have free reign in my kitchen, also. Just...in case I never thought to mention that. I keep snacks they like on hand, and the coffee they like. Plus sometimes you might see a lunch bag or something on the bottom shelf. It's my home, but it's also their workplace, so I try to make sure they feel like they can be comfortable."

“That’s very nice of you.” He chuckles and glances at Agent Bailey. “I’m sure it’s appreciated. Sometimes eating during work is hard isn’t it?” She nods and he glances back at you. “Why don’t you go change into your comfy clothes and I’ll get everything?”

"There's platters and boards in the cabinet to the left of the refrigerator." On a more casual evening, you would have tipped your head back to kiss him, but something in your gut tells you that your first kiss with this man will be anything but casual and not to waste that little bit of magic. "I'll be right back."

“Take your time.” He smiles. “Agent Bailey can help if I need to find something.”

If it wasn’t the first time you’re spending time together like this, and if there wasn’t a Secret Service agent on hand, you might have gone into your room and found something slinky or lacy or otherwise revealing to put on. Slip into something a little more comfortable, as the movies always used to say. Instead, you trade your cigarette pants for a pair of yoga pants that you routinely sleep in, and trade the very tailored, carefully fitted blouse and push up bra for an old tank top that is soft on your skin and an oversized sweatshirt from Kings College, back when you were in London. The decision to wipe your makeup off and just be a bare, clean version of you is one you take very seriously. Some men expect their partners to be ‘on’ at all times and that isn’t you.

Marcus finds your kitchen to be small, but set up in a very easy to use kind of way. He follows your directions for the board, and opens the wine to let it breathe before diving into your fridge and small pantry to put together a board based off what you have. You were right, you have all the makings for an excellent board and he hums as he works.

It’s certainly less than ten minutes that you’re gone, but when you reappear again, Marcus has created a masterpiece of a board and fished two wine glasses out of your cupboard to boot. He looks so natural — standing there in your kitchen with his shirt collar hanging open and a look of deep concentration on his face as he works to twist slices of prosciutto into something resembling a knot or a flower — that it makes you downright emotional. In all the months you were with Sam, he had barely done more than fix you a cup of coffee.

Looking up when he senses movement, he beams at the sight of you all dressed down. Even more beautiful than you had been when he arrived. “How did you manage to do that?” He asks, abandoning the prosciutto to scoop up a wine glass and walk around the bar to bring it to you. “You look even better than you did when you walked into your room.”

“He prefers the casual look.” You beam at him, letting the heat in your cheeks burn the rest of your face as well. “Noted.”

“You are beautiful dressed up or dressed down.” He promises, smiling as he hands you the wine. “Go sit and I’ll bring the food over. The couch?”

“Perfect.” It seems like you’re saying that a lot, but your face is on fire with the compliment as you accept the wine glass from him and glance back at your living room. There are a few candles around just because you like the ambiance, and you quickly gather them to put out on your coffee table. When was the last time anyone had just…taken charge and spoiled you like this? Maybe years ago? Maybe never. It’s certainly not something Sam ever did — those situations always seemed to be you serving him and never about meeting in the middle or treating you. The realization stings, but only for a moment.

“I hope you don’t mind.” It takes him a second to gather up the board, his wine and the bottle, but he manages it before he starts to walk over. “I found a little bag of chocolate candies and I love having chocolate with cheese.”

“I don’t mind at all. You’re perfectly right about those two together.” The board he sets down looks like it belongs on the cover of a cookbook or a food blog, and it looks like he found your nearly-done jar of blackberry jam too, because there is a ramekin of it on the board next to some of your favourite sesame crackers. “This is…” It’s perfect, but since you keep using that word, you search for another. “It’s such an indulgence, and a beautiful one, too.”

He’s never described himself as someone who preens, but he definitely wallows in your praise just a bit. “I took a charcuterie board making class.” He explains. “I thought it would be a good date. Food, learning, wine. The date didn’t work out, but I enjoyed the class.”

“And you clearly absorbed everything they taught you.” Shifting over on the couch, you take the wine bottle from him and set it on a thick coaster before inspecting the magic he’s made of all the bits and pieces from your kitchen. “Thank you for this. I know you must be tired from traveling and everything, but I’m glad we actually have a chance to talk.”

“You’ve been busy too.” He reminds you softly, leaning over and nudging your shoulder gently. “Putting on a wedding in two weeks’ time with little help.” He huffs slightly. “I hope you know that’s not exactly what I had in mind when I called you for a favor.”

“I know it’s not.” The first sip of the wine you take is sharp and fruity up front, mellowing on your tongue and warming you through just seconds later. “But you wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important to you, and…you’re important to me. So I wanted everything to be perfect.”

He can’t help but give a pleased little hum in the back of his throat, covering it up by taking his own sip of wine. “I appreciate it, so much. You can see why it was important. Cameron— I guess I need to start calling her Joyce— and Michael are such good people.

“I wanted you to know you could count on me,” you admit, sitting forward to compose your first little bite. “And I ended up making new friends in the process.”

“I think that is probably the best part.” Marcus smiles as you pick and poke until you get the bite you want on your cracker.

A sesame cracker with creamy Brie and a little dab of Calabrian chili jam — not traditional, but an experiment of Syd’s — is first and you practically giggle at how well it all goes together. Even the sweet wine seems to be perfect with the spicy jam. “So…” The beginning of something like this, not that you’ve ever sat down to have a methodical chat with your soulmate before, feels important and intimidating. “Do you mind if we sort of lay things out in the proverbial table? Just kind of be open with each other going into this?”

“I think that would be the best way to handle things.” Marcus admits, hoping that the way you’ve phrased that isn’t some kind of ominous prelude of what’s to come. You surely wouldn’t flirt with him and then crush his hopes? He picks up his own cracker and puts a slice of very sharp cheddar and a fig onto it with a smear of the blackberry jam on top.

“We’ve already talked about wanting kids.” That day at Eastern Market has stuck in your mind, although you couldn’t have known then that it would become such an important topic for you. “And I…I’m actually looking forward to being married. To have a partner who is my confidante and my friend and my support as well as being along for whatever fun and mischief might come up in our lives. I just…my family means the world to me and the fact that I couldn’t see a future with Sam where we were equal partners in an equal marriage was one of the major reasons I knew it wasn’t going to work out.”

Marcus chews his bite, understanding what you are meaning. “So you are asking if I can handle the political, social spotlight and put up with the interferences that it might cause in our personal lives?”

“Partially.” You nod and go back in to build another bite. Serious conversations somehow always make you hungry, so this was a good idea. “I’m also asking if your dream or your future includes a wife who stays at home with the kids, because that isn’t a version of me that I have ever found realistic.”

Marcus laughs, shaking his head and reaching out to pick up a candy, offering it to you instead of eating it himself. “No.” He snorts. “God no, I’ve never had any dreams of having a wife at home to cook and clean, bring me my slippers or anything of the sort.” He assures you. “My parents both worked, my father was constantly traveling. My mother would sometimes work late. We had my family, family friends, babysitters to help her when he was gone. I know that this inn is important to you.” He stresses carefully. “What you decide to do, that is what I would want you to do.”

The chocolate drop is such a small offering physically, but the warmth is spreads through you to accept is something you can’t really describe. Marcus just puts you so at ease, even with small gestures. “I saw my father give things up to help my mother achieve everything she ever wanted,” you tell him honestly. “And while I know he’s happy, it isn’t what he dreamed of. And I’ve just always wanted to find a way to make sure my partner and I could both have our dreams come true.”

“My own dreams are pretty simple.” He shrugs. “I want an equal partnership. Kids. A healthy family dynamic where sometimes I have to take off work because the kids are sick, or you have to take them to work because I’m out of town. I like compromises.”

“Compromises are good.” The chocolate melts slowly on your tongue, mixing with wine and making you smile again. “I like traditions, too. Mixing your family traditions with mine and then coming up with some new ones all our own.”

“And I understand that for the next three to seven years, your family is….well, prioritized, for lack of a better word, and I’m okay with that.” He knows that there will be press obligations and holidays where you need to be present. He wouldn’t begrudge you that.

“You don’t mind Friday night family dinners, or a Secret Service detail, or the fact that people are going to feel entitled to know things about us or have opinions about us?” Sam had said he didn’t mind. And sometimes you thought he even basked in it a little, but the reality is that he doesn’t like things he can’t control. You just hope Marcus is willing to be a little more flexible.

“Do I love the idea of people judging our lives when they don’t actually know the details?” Marcus shrugs slightly. “No, but at the same time, I understand that it will happen. I’m not going to be upset at you for it.” He glances back at Agent Bailey who is comfortably sitting in a chair and trying to not listen in on your conversation. “Your detail is a necessary evil. I would never want you to get rid of them. I know the types of threats your family can receive.”

“My Dad’s already gotten a few.” Of course your mother has, but as the first female President she had expected that and has just handed the pertinent materials over to the Secret Service. “He just says it’s proof that Mom is a strong leader that some people also feel strongly against her. But that doesn’t have anything to do with you and me.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He can agree with that. “But some think that the sin of the mother, in this case…” he picks up a grape and offers it to you. “Are you worried I will hate it, or love it?”

“The attention?” Without even thinking, the bite of cheese and prosciutto in your hand instantly becomes his in exchange for the grape, like a reflex. Sharing easily and just instinctively giving things back and forth without worry. “I’m terrified that you’ll start to resent it and resent me by association.”

“Never happen.” He can promise you that with absolute certainty. “I am the son of a therapist, remember?” He teases lightly, tapping your nose. “I talk when things bother me. I don’t hide from them.”

“I’m the daughter of two lawyers, one of whom turned politician.” It’s impossible not to nudge toward him, the endearing little boop to your nose making you smile like an idiot all over again. “We’ll talk about it, but as soon as you’ve given me your opening statement I’ll have a cross-examination, a motivational monologue, and an emotional closing argument ready to go.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You do realize that I’ve got quite a bit of experience on the stand, right?” He asks, picking up another cracker and recreating your first bite to hold out to you. He had enjoyed the way you moaned over it.

“And if I remember correctly, you said you also debated at the family dinner table.” This time you spread some of the goat cheese from the board onto a piece of baguette and top it with a chocolate drop for him to try. “So I think we’re going to be just fine and the communication front.”

“I don’t foresee any grand problems.” He agrees. “But if there are issues, we talk and work them out.”

“I completely agree,” you even nod as you hold the bite out for him to try.

He takes the bite out of your hand, just leaning forward and eating from your hand. “Oh that’s good!”

The casual intimacy of the gesture and the slightly cavewoman-esque feeling of feeding and giving life being connected aren’t exactly things you expected to mix so easily. But here you are squirming in your seat and trying not to set on fire with it. “Damn it, Marcus,” you laugh despite yourself.

“What?” The question is innocent enough, but Marcus has enough experience to know what he’s doing to you. The slight smirk twisting his lips giving him away.

“You’re a tease,” you huff, pouting at him animatedly.

“I’ve been called that before.” He admits, picking up another cracker and putting together another little morsel for you as a peace offering. “Do you not like that?”

The slight snicker and smirk you have for him is good natured, and it turns into a wry smile. “I like it better when I’m allowed to climb the offending teaser like a tree.”

Your words hit him like a ton of bricks and he would be lying if his body didn’t immediately react. “Yeah?” His voice is a little raspy choking out the word. “You’d like that, huh?”

“I’m not planning on rushing you,” you assure him, but you still put down your wine glass. “You did just get out of a relationship.”

“As did you.” He points out, leaning back and staring at you, trying to gauge your position on this.

“I did.” It’s nearly a standoff now, but not in a hostile way. Just in a way where you’re both wondering who will break first. “So I’m not saying we should sleep together right away, but I still really want to kiss you.”

“Can I be completely honest?” Marcus asks, almost a little ashamed of even having to admit this.

“I prefer it.”

Reaching for your hand, he chuckles slightly. “I really want to kiss you too. And more….but I just flew in less than an hour before I got here.” He reminds you. “I’m afraid that I would not be at my best if we did anything tonight and I would like to make a good impression the first time.”

“That’s completely fair.” And actually makes you laugh a little. Not because you’re laughing at him but because it’s so human. “So we’ll come to it when we’re ready. And when we’re well rested.”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m not interested, because I am.” He promises. “But I also don’t want to fall asleep in the middle of learning your body.”

“Well when you put it like that, I don’t want that either.” The smile curving your lips and cheeks is bright, though, and you set one hand gently on his knee. “If you need to go home, I’m not going to be offended.”

The hours that he’s been awake are starting to settle onto his shoulders and the half glass of wine makes him sleepy. “Are you sure?” He asks softly. “I was supposed to be taking care of you and putting you to bed slightly wine drunk and relaxed.”

"I promise." A gentle squeeze of his leg is a small sign of affection, but a very real one. "You've taken care of me beautifully and this is the most relaxed I've felt in ages."

“Good.” He hums, pleased with that. It’s all he wants to do, to be a good partner and give you what you need.

"If you're already exhausted, you can crash here?" It comes out more like a question than you meant it to, but that's because you realize that you don't actually know how much he had to drink at dinner. Not that Marcus seems drunk to you at all, but everyone is affected by alcohol differently. And you don't want him on the road if he's sleepy and still a little tipsy.

Just the idea of it makes Marcus nearly yawn, sleep that much closer to being a reality. But he still has to protest slightly. “I don’t want to impose…”

"It's not imposing if I offer." You remind him, feeling the sweetness of the moment sort of float down over it like a warm blanket. "I can bring some spare blankets and pillows out here to the couch, or you can come snuggle up in bed with me. It's up to you." The fact is, it's late. And you have a wedding to put on in two days. So maybe it's not sleeping with him for the first time in the traditional sense, but it's definitely intimate in the kind of way that you want to be able to share with him. Either way, you still get to be near him.

“It’s a twenty-minute drive, but honestly I don’t know if I can make it.” He sighs. “I’ll sleep wherever you want me to. How does that sound?”

"I want you in my bed," you admit without apology. "But you deserve rest instead of a handsy girl cuddling next to you. So go use the bathroom and I'll clean up out here and grab you some blankets and a spare pillow. Do you have to go into the office tomorrow?"

Marcus huffs out a sleepy laugh, his battery rapidly draining now that he’s admitted how tired he is. “Worse.” He groans. “We have a seven AM tee time and then I have to go to the office.”

"Who are you golfing with at seven in the morning?" Lifting yourself up off the couch and starting to gather things up, you leave Marcus's wine glass with its last few sips for him to finish if he wants to. The current plan is to wrap this board up in some plastic and have the remains for lunch tomorrow.

“Michael and Joyce’s father.” He moans. “Michael asked me to join, thinking it would be a good buffer, given the fragile relationship.”

"It makes sense, but that's a hell of an early morning." When he follows you into the kitchen with both of your wine glasses, you smile at the padding sound of his shuffled steps. He's definitely tired. "So you golf, then?"

“Not particularly well.” Marcus snorts. “But I’ve had to learn since a lot of directors like to have meetings on a golf course.”

"My Dad used to take us mini golfing when we were kids." The two of you work slowly but in a good rhythm and get things put away easily. "Believe it or not, Junie is the one who really took to it. It's their bonding thing, and she goes putting as a stress relief thing. I vastly prefer yoga."

“I probably need yoga.” Marcus laughs. “But I normally just run.”

"You'd love my yoga class." You finish the last sip of your wine and set your glass on the side of the sink to be washed tomorrow. "I go to puppy yoga once a week."

“Puppy yoga?” That has Marcus both intrigued and confused, thinking that he’s tired enough to be having auditory hallucinations.

"A room full of grown ass adults doing gentle yoga poses with cute little puppies running around the room for the whole hour." When he hands over his glass you put it next to yours and take a quick inventory of things in the kitchen just to make sure that you're all set for the next day. "It's the most relaxing silliness you could possibly ask for."

“That sounds adorable.” He admits with a small smile. “And chaotic at times.”

"Best way to spend a Thursday night in the world." You reach out easily, rubbing Marcus's arm softly. "Go get ready for bed. I'll grab those blankets for you."

“I’m sorry.” He feels guilty, very guilty, that he can’t stay up all night talking to you. However, it’s technically five in the morning in London and he hadn’t slept much the night before. Just an hour or so, and then he couldn’t sleep on the plane. So he is just completely gassed.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Promising him that is easy, like promising the wind that you appreciate its breeze. "I get the feeling that you don't let a lot of people take care of you the way you take care of everyone else. So allow me to be the one person who gets that privilege. At least for now?"

“Can’t be disappointed when no one will if you don’t let them.” He’s so tired it pops out of his mouth without realizing he’s said it, his inner monologue gone.

The utter shock to your system is as much about the hurt in his voice as anything else, and in less than a heartbeat you're wrapping your arms around him to hug him more tightly than you probably mean to. This gentle, sweet, kind man just...put up his walls a lot closer to himself than most other people do to keep his heart guarded from the very worst hurts, and that makes you ache. "I'm sorry people have disappointed you before. But I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Shit. “I didn’t mean to say that.” He sighs, shaking his head. He doesn’t move away from the hug though, slightly leaning into it.

"I was going to do my best to take care of you anyway," you tell him, overwhelmed in the honesty of the moment. "The only difference is now you know I'm doing it. That's not so bad, right?"

“No.” He can’t deny you, not right now. “Thank you.” He murmurs quietly.

"Come on, honey." When his arms loosen after a few moments, you turn into his side to walk with him. "Let's get you ready to sleep."

“God, I’m sorry.” He snorts. “Think I’ve had…three hours sleep in the last forty-eight hours?” It’s almost a question and he can’t quite calculate it.

"That's alright. I'm just glad I didn't send you out onto the road this tired." You never would have forgiven yourself if anything had happened to him, so you're doubly glad that he agreed to stay.

Getting ready for bed is relatively quick. You give him a spare toothbrush and he cleans up quickly for someone so tired. Eager to sleep. Two extra blankets and a spare pillow from your bed make the couch cozy enough, and you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek before leaving him to get comfortable. "Good night," you hum the words, finding his sleepy state endearingly cute but not wanting to tease him about it. "Soulmate."

“Goodnight.” The good thing about Marcus is he can sleep anywhere. Your couch is far superior to the one in his office and he’s almost asleep as his head settles into the pillow. “My beautiful soulmate.” His eyes are already closed. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He whispers.

______

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[gachawolfiebloom]

Two Hearts In The City of Love

Chapter 17: Dancing Under The Stars

It was the last day before their vacation ended and the crew was going to celebrate with a big party at the Eiffel Tower tonight. Dancing, games, food, and the big fireworks show at the end. Three was adjusting his tie when Meggy casually let herself in. "Hey are you guys almost ready? Tari and Luigi are waiting downstairs." He nodded and said "Yeah I'm almost done and Four is still getting ready in the bathroom." Meggy gave him a thumbs up and said "Alright. I'll go check on the others." She shut the door and went over to Mario's room.

When Three was finally satisfied with his tie, he went over to the mirror and took a brush to fix his hair. It was a little bit longer than his normal length of hair, but Four thought it looked nice like that (and said it was cute). Speaking of Four, was he still in the bathroom? Three couldn't hear anything and started getting worried. "I should check on him to make sure he didn't pass out or something." Just when Three was about to knock on the door, it slowly clicked open and Four was standing there with a blue suit and bowtie. It looked similar to his spy outfit except a little more fancier. Three stood there, admiring how handsome he looked while Four gave him an awkward smile and said "Be honest. I look stupid don't I?"

"N-No...you look nice. Amazing even." Three placed a hand on his cheek while smiling and blushing. He had never seen Four this so well dressed before. "Thanks. I'll admit I felt a bit awkward since I don't normally dress like this." Three softly took Four's hands and said "It suits you." Four giggled and gave Three a quick kiss as he laughed and said "Come on idiot. Everyone's waiting."

Meggy knocked on Mario's door and called out "Are you ready Red?" Some heavy grunting came from inside as Meggy gave a confused glance. "Mario? Are you okay?" She was answered by the sounds of pushing and shoving. "Alright! That's enough! Stop messing around!" She slammed the door open to find Mario squirming while Mr Puzzles was pinning him to the bed, trying to fix his suit. "Stay still idiot! I just need to fix your bow!"

"Nooooo! Mario hates wearing these itchy clothes!"

"Uhhh...what's going on here?"

Mario and Mr Puzzles immediately whipped their heads around to find that the nosy squid had busted them. "Meggy! How much of that did you just see..." She laughed nervously and said "Not that much...I just came to say we're almost ready to go. Is Mario ready?"

"One second." He plastered a smile and fixed Mario's bowtie while he was distracted. "There! Now you're ready!" Mr Puzzles was wearing a much more gentleman-like suit than his normal attire. He enjoyed getting all gussied up, but Mario was not too fond of it. Especially when he wasn't supposed to get his new clothes dirty. "Why does Mario have to go to this lame-o party anyway? Can't he just stay here and play some MarioKart!" Meggy shook her head and said "This is a friend event! That means everyone is coming, including you!" The fat Italian crossed his arms grumpily as Mr Puzzles sighed and said "You go ahead. I better deal with him."

Bob stood in the hallway wearing a bowtie while Boopkins was reading off some cue cards in his hands. "Alright, how would you ask her to dance?"

"WANNA DANCE BABEE?"

"What would be a good pickup line?"

"SHOW ME YOUR BOOBIES~"

"If she wants a drink you should..."

"GET HER BEER!"

"You certainly are the gentlemen type aren't you?"

The two turned to see Three approaching with his boyfriend, hand in hand. They had smirks on their faces as Four said sarcastically "Oh yeah, you're definitely going to win the best man award." Boopkins hid his face behind the cards as blush crept on Bob's cheeks as he yelled back "S-SHUT UP! I'LL PROVE YOU WRONG! CHICKS DIG THIS SORT OF THING!"

"Well good luck with that. And if anyone's going to win that best man award it will be me because I know how to treat my love~" When Three said that last part, he scooped Four into his arms and pulled him close enough that their noses were touching. Four felt flustered and said "Three! Not in front of our friends!" He simply dismissed it, seemingly not caring so much about what the crew thought anymore. Just as long as he could show everyone what a sweet and loving boyfriend he had. "Awww are you embarrassed that our friends are watching?"

"N-No...I just-"

Four was at a lost for words, but it really didn't matter anymore as Three had started nuzzling into his neck, giving multiple sweet kisses. He became super ticklish, laughing and squirming as he croaked out through his giggling "S-Stop it Three!" Smg3 playfully continued as he loved the little noises his lover was making. Boopkins squealed of cuteness while Bob wrote down some notes. "KISSING WITHOUT CONSENT."

Soon enough, Mario and Mr Puzzles were coming out of their room when they noticed the adorable couple. Mario sighed and said "Ahh gay love..." Mr Puzzles was involved too as his eyes turned to hearts and his mouth grinned. "Oh what marvelous content! The romance, the love interest, the passion! All the great workings of a scene set in Paris!" Mario smugly grinned at him and said "Oooo TV man wants someone too!" His smile then faltered as he scoffed and said "Why should I have a relationship!? Nobody ever cared about me anyway..."

"Mario does!" His heart monitor blush rose as he stared wide eyed at him. "Y-You what!?" The Italian immediately realized what he said and covered it up. "Wait! Mario didn't mean it like that! TV guy is a good friend to him! Not a boyfriend or anything...hahaha...heh." Mr Puzzles cooled down as he breathed a sigh of relief and said "Oh good. I thought you meant something else." Mario went from awkward to bubbly as he pulled out his favorite dish and said "Besides, Mario already has his one true love!" Mr Puzzles felt his eye twitch as he said "Of course...spaghetti."

As Three let go of Four's neck, they looked passionately into each other's eyes. "My sweet blue prince~"

"My affectionate tsundere~"

Bob was getting impatient and said "CAN WE GO NOW!? I'VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THEN WATCHING YOU SUS GAYS ALL NIGHT!" Three turned his head to face Bob with a ticked off expression, still holding onto Four. "You're just jealous that I found someone better than that pink sucker!"

"BIRDO IS NOT A SUCKER!"

...

Meggy stepped out into the lobby when she saw Luigi and Tari talking by the door. "There you are! The boys are almost ready, just-" She stopped mid sentence when she saw what Tari was wearing. The blue haired girl had on a flowing, sparkling dress, mixed with a combination of blue and white. It really suited her. "Meggy? Are you okay?" She shook her head and said "Yeah! You just look...really beautiful Tari."

"Aw thanks..." Tari blushed and her cheeks glowed as Meggy smiled back at her. "I like your outfit too." Meggy looked down as her outfit wasn't as formal. Just a simple ruffled skirt with a white shirt. "Thanks. I hope you don't mind, but I don't really like dressing all that lavishly."

"That's okay. I'm just glad I'm spending this evening with you. Large crowds can freak me out." Meggy took hold of her hand softly and said "There's nothing to be worried about. If anyone gives you trouble, they'll have to answer to me!" She winked playfully when Luigi politely interrupted them. "Excuse me, but do you know if Mario is ready. My brother always picks a fight when I try to get him gussied up."

"Oh yeah. Mr Puzzles handled that. He must really have a way with Mario if he doesn't even behave for you."

Luigi felt his eyebrows furrow at the mention of Mr Puzzles. "That's uh...good..."

"WAHOO! PARTY TIME!" Luigi and the girls looked behind to see the others coming down. Three and Four, holding each other's hand while Four rested his head on Three's shoulder, Bob and Boopkins arguing over what strategies to use on Birdo, and Mario clinging to...Mr Puzzles. Luigi tried not to pay attention to them as he asked "Great we're all here! Everyone ready to go?"

...

After a short drive over there, the crew arrived at the foot of the most popular landmark in all of France. The Eiffel Tower, lit up and loud music blasting from up above. "Well this is certainly something." Meggy said as she looked at Tari, who was squeezing her hand. Bob didn't have time for hesitation as he headed straight toward the entrance, yelling "MAKE WAY FOR THE V.I.P!!!"

A guard stood at the door as Bob tried jumping over the rope, but was pulled back. "Can I help you sir?"

"LET ME IN!"

"Do you have a ticket sir?"

"UHHHHHH...."

Bob's turned cross eyed until Luigi came up with the rest of the crew and handed the guard the tickets. "Sorry about that. He's with us." The guard looked Bob up and down and asked "This clown?" Bob's eyes turned red as Boopkins held him back from attacking the man and Three said "Unfortunately...yes." The man awkwardly let them in as Bob kept glaring at the guard as the went up to the viewing platform, where the party was being held.

Once they got there, just looking at it alone was enough to overwhelm them with all the things you could do. There was a bar, dance floor, arcade games, even a kids corner where they played Cocomelon. Mr Puzzles' eyes flashed to stars and he beamed in astonishment. "Now this is a party! Such entertainment! The perfect setting for my tastes! Come on Mario! Mario...?"

He looked over to see the fat Italian, joining the kids corner and laughing with the babies at the stupid Cocomelon channel. "Ugh..."  He reluctantly went over and yanked Mario away from this nonsense, but the Italian wouldn't leave. "Let Mario go! He wants to watch the funny!"

"I am not going to be seen hanging out with some idiot who watches this slop!" Mario gripped onto a couch as Mr Puzzles was now tugging his legs at full force. "We should be rubbing elbows with our people! Not these mind babbling dribblers!"

"Boooo! That's boring! Didn't TV guy make this once?" Mr Puzzles stopped and let Mario go has he crashed into the couch and onto the ground. It took a few seconds for him to recover, but when Mario realized he was free, he made a beeline for the TV. "Yippee! See isn't this fun TV guy!" He didn't hear a response.

"TV guy?"

He looked behind him to see Mr Puzzles rubbing his arm while his screen had darkened. In this situation you'd think Mario would simply brush it off and continue watching his program, but he didn't. He forgot all about what he wanted to do in the first place when he saw his...friend was upset. Mario slowly approached him and reached out for his hand. "Hey...it okie. Tell Mario what's bugging you." Mr Puzzles pulled his hand away and gripped his chest. Finally, after sad silence between the two, he whispered "Puzzlebox..."

"Huh?"

"Puzzlebox...was born out of a dark time...I wasn't thinking straight and let my reputation get destroyed all because I was desperate."

Mario felt worried as he tried to hold Mr Puzzles' hand again. This time he let him. "Mario's so sorry..."

"I was hoping this night would help me leave my past behind. To promote myself and get back on top. Turns out it's just doing the opposite..."

Mario felt shattered. How fragile Mr Puzzles' heart was and how he was basically just stomping it out on the ground with his stupid antics. With sadness in his eyes, Mario wrapped his arms around Mr Puzzles' as he flinched and felt his screen getting hot. This hug with Mario felt more meaningful than the last. One that didn't just show how the Italian cared for him, but also really liked him. Their fingers slowly intertwined as Puzzles formed a small smile. "Heh...thanks buddy." Mario looked up and exchanged a warm smile back.

"I must've looked so stupid when I pulled up to you in that crazy coupe..."

"Mario's done WAY more stupid stuff than that!"

The TV man chuckled as Mario egarly took his hand this time and pulled him towards the other guests. "Lets-a go mingle with the fat cats!"

...

Bob was chugging down a beer while surfing the crowd for his favorite dark web streamer. "ANY SIGN OF HER?" Boopkins was peering through binoculars, standing on the counter and shook his head. "Nooo sorry Bob." Luigi soon came over and asked "Hey have you guys seen my bro?"

"Uh...he's hanging out with Mr Puzzles." Luigi rolled his eyes as this was the second time that sketchy TV was brought up. "Why are they hanging out so much? Mr Puzzles hates Mario!" Boopkins shrugged and said "I don't know. Maybe they're.-"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP! THERE SHE IS!"

Bob interrupted as he pointed down to Birdo flaunting out on the dance floor. He gulped down the rest of his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the counter, rushing off and bowling people over. Luigi and Boopkins stared wide eyed at him until someone behind them said "That dumb*** will see anything and get excited." Mr Puzzles came up with Mario happily walking besides him. "Oh there you are Mario! I was worried you were..." He stiffened when he saw the both of them holding hands. "What...are you doing to him?" His voice grew cold as Mr Puzzles' head tilted in confusion. He looked down and noticed his hand holding...

Immediately, he yanked away from the red Italian, making him concerned. "Are you okie? Why did TV man let go...?" Nervously stuttering, he said "I...just have to get a drink! Yeah!" Quickly, he reached over for a glass and poured himself some random flavored wine. "But you don't even have a mo-" Luigi stopped himself when a thought in his mind pieced together why Mr Puzzles suddenly felt so flustered. Mr Puzzles sipped his drink awkwardly as Mario just kept staring at him, worried he did something wrong.

"So anyways, where were we!" He shouted out before anyone could question his strange behavior. "Mario's right. Something seems to be bugging you." Boopkins replied as Mr Puzzles cut him off. "Who me? Why I'm never better! How about we get something to eat? I'll get you spaghetti Mario! My treat!" The fat Italian's concern vanquished as he cheered and ran off, leaving Mr Puzzles to pursue after him. It was just Luigi and Boopkins again.

"Poor Mr Puzzles...he looks stressed. I wonder why he felt so distraught when he saw-"

"I know why he did that."

Boopkins turned to a guilty looking Luigi, staring off into the direction the two fled to. "You do? What?"

"Mr Puzzles...he-he's...in love with...Mario."

Boopkins gasped as Luigi sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "All this time I thought he was planning something with my brother, but he really does love him."

"A-Are...are you sure?"

Luigi nodded and said "And I'm pretty sure Mario loves him back." Boopkins felt taken aback, offering a hand of reassurance to the green Italian. "The truth is...I was jealous of them. I was hoping something would come between them, but instead they've grown closer. But now I see that...they deserve each other."

Boopkins gave him a tiny hug and reassured the green man "Oh Luigi, just because Mario likes Mr Puzzles doesn't mean he won't stop caring about you. You're his brother and brothers are always there for each other!" Luigi smiled and said "You're right. I'm happy for him."

...

Three and Four were chatting off to the side. Mingling in crowds wasn't really their speed and the couple wanted to spend some quality time with each other before they headed back home. "And then he refused to pay! What a jerk!" Four laughed and turned his attention from his handsome boyfriend to the twinkling stars in the sky. "Wow it's so pretty!" He leaned on the balcony railing as Three soon joined him. "It reminds me of the night we confessed." Four sighed as Three stared lovey eyed at him. "You mean the night I won the heart of the most special man in the whole universe~" Four blushed as Three leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I always knew you cared about me Three. Although, I do wonder..."

"Hm?" Three's trance of heartfelt love turned to confusion as Four asked "What happens when we go home? Do we continue being a couple or will we go back to...before?" Three didn't understand the question. "What do you mean? Of course we will!"

"But we started off so distant. At first, we were unsure about this trip...but now-"

Three shushed him with a finger over his mouth and gave him the most sincere speech that Four had ever heard that could have easily tied with the ones back in his states of insanity. "Four. This wasn't some stupid pity thing. I really do care about you and I'm sorry it took this long to open up to you. Things might have been tense between us, but I would never ask you to give us up so things can go back to normal. I wouldn't trade you for anything Smg4."

Four listened closely with rosy cheeks as he threw himself around his boyfriend, whispering "I wouldn't either. Thank you Smg3." Three graciously returned the hug as he was proud of how far they had made it.

Just then, the stage lights dimmed and a slow song started playing as guests grabbed a partner to dance with. Three amusingly rolled his eyes as this was starting to feel like one of those cheesy romance movies that Mr Puzzles' had put them through. He pulled away from the hug, disappointing Four, but then stuck out his hand. "Care to dance my prince~" Four felt his heart pounding as he daintily grabbed Three's hand, letting  his love lead him to the dance floor. He was trying to keep it cool, but his mind was screaming out in squeals of excitement.

"OH MY GOSH! HE'S ASKING ME TO DANCE! WE'RE GOING TO DANCE!" 

As they arrived in the middle of all the couples, Three carefully took hold of Four's waist while holding still holding his hand. They began twirling around as neither of them took their eyes off each other for a second. Three took it up a notch by spinning him around and Four felt butterflies in his stomach. The internal panic rising up in him made Four trip, but Three caught him in that tango dance move (oh you know the one).

Heart beats fast Colors and promises How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

"Are you alright Four?"

"Yeah...I'm good."

Three swept Four back onto his feet as they carried on with the dance. Four wasn't as flustered now as both of them kept looking sweetly into each other's eyes. There was no way things could go back to how it used to. They loved each other two much. Four leaned softly into his chest, resting his head on the bearded man's shoulder as he stroked his hair delicately. "I feel like I already am home."

...

Mario was dancing with a thousand bowls of spaghetti while Mr Puzzles facepalmed himself. "Well there goes my dignity..." He glanced over at Mario, who was getting sauce stains all over his cheeks and gloves. "Ugh...you slob." He grabbed a napkin from the counter and clapped Mario's face closer so he could wipe the smudges. "Here. I'll get it for you."  Mario felt his cheeks rise up as Mr Puzzles cleaned the red mush off them. "You're lucky you didn't get your nice suit dirty." Mario didn't say a word as Mr Puzzles wiped off everything except the stains on his gloves.

He moved his hands from the Italian's cheeks to his palm. "This isn't going to come out." He let go as Mario felt heavily disappointed. That was until he noticed Mr Puzzles was slipping off his gloves. "If you want, you can borrow mine. But you can't get any sauce on them! This is my good pair!" All the big nosed Italian could say was a small croak of "O-Okie..." He watched as the TV man slowly removed each finger from the glove and when he whooshed them off, Mario's face glowed bright red.

Mr Puzzles' hands were the same dark grey as his neck, showing the wire marks that connected his body to that magnificent TV box of his. He had never seen Mr Puzzles without his gloves before. The flustered expression only rose more as Mr Puzzles gently removed his sauce-stained hand wear and replaced them with his. They felt warm, soothing, comforting. As Mr Puzzles grimaced at the dirty gloves and stuck them in his pocket, he noticed the Italian slowly panicking to himself. His face was basically a tomato now and he kept staring at the dashing gloves that were now covering his hands.

"Oh come now Mario! They aren't that bad!"

He shook his head and blinked, acting like nothing had happened. "Wow. What was Mario doing?" Mr Puzzles chuckled and said "Heading over to the luxury lounge you moron. I'd still like to promote my productions before we have to go." Just before they could make their way towards that area, they noticed the lighting change and the music had turned softer. "Ooooo is it a scary monster?" Mr Puzzles crooked his eyebrow until he saw couples starting to dance and two meme guardians heading toward the dance floor. "Oh you have got to be kidding me..."

"Mario wants to see! Mario wants to see!" He began scrambling towards the stage while Mr Puzzles grabbed him by the waist. "Mario! It's a slow dance! I know these from movies! Two people who are love interests grab each other and twirl each other around!"

"Sounds fun! Are we gonna do it!"

"NO YOU BOBBLEHEAD!"

"But...Mario thought you wanted to spend the night with him."

Mr Puzzles was about to retort something, but stopped when seeing the man's big sad eyes. He lowered his stern finger and faltered. Bob and Birdo ran past them as he said "OUT OF THE WAY LOSERS! MY LADY WANTS TO DANCE!" Mr Puzzles studied the crowd as he watched Birdo gushing over Bob with love eyes, then over to Smg4 and Smg3, who were dancing beautifully with more love for each other than he had ever seen.

He really wanted to ask Mario to dance, but he couldn't be seen with the likes of him...right? He turned over to Boopkins and Luigi, giving them a "What should I do? " gesture. Luigi saw Mr Puzzles trying to look for his advice. Mr Puzzles looked really uncomfortable. He would probably be disgusted dancing with Mario. Yeah...they should just sit this one out. Luigi was about to tell the TV man to not go for it when he saw the sadness in Mario's eyes. He hesitated.

"I'm pretty sure Mario loves him back"

No that wasn't true. He was just telling himself all those things because he was jealous and terrified of seeing harm coming to his brother. Boopkins was right. They should be together and he should be happy. Luigi smiled and mouthed to Mr Puzzles "Do it. He wants to dance with you."

Mario was about to walk away when Mr Puzzles took a deep breath and held out his hand. "Wha-" The Italian looked up to see Mr Puzzles with a sweet smile on his face. Could he be..? "Care for a dance Mario?" His blue eyes sparkled as he cheered and gladly took the hand offered to him, dragging Mr Puzzles what had to be the millionth time tonight to the dance floor. It felt a bit self conscious for him to be dancing around all these people. I mean, a TV and a human. Mario didn't mind. He started busting out some wacky dance moves as Mr Puzzles groaned. "That's not how you do a slow dance. I'll show you."

He reached his arm out before he stopped in his tracks and asked "Can I..." Mario saw what he was doing and slowly nodded as Mr Puzzles grabbed his waist while locking fingers with the other hand. Mr Puzzles led the dance, spinning sand swaying slowly. He had known these moves from tons of romance films, but never thought he would be doing them with Mario of all people.

Time stands still Beauty in all he is I will be brave I will not let anything take away What's standing in front of me

The music and crowd slowly got drowned out as all they could focus on was each other. Mario had a goody smile on his face while Mr Puzzles' eyes were heart shaped. Their heads slowly moved closer and closer, leaning forward as they closed their eyes and...

"SUP LOVEBIRDS!"

Mario and Mr Puzzles jolted away from each other from the sudden scare of Bob appearing out of nowhere. "Bob!? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be dancing with Birdo?" He shrugged and said "YEAH BUT SHE BOUNCED. GAVE ME HER NUMBER THOUGH." He held up a scrap of paper that had a flirtatious message written with the phone number. "That's greaattt..." Mr Puzzles mumbled and a little annoyed that this is what stopped them from-

"WAIT...WERE YOU TWO...ABOUT TO KISS!?"

"NO!"

Mario and Mr Puzzles shouted in unison as Bob narrowed his eyes. He then threw his arms up and cheered "HAH! I KNEW IT! BOOPKINS OWES ME 20 BUCKS NOW!"

"Shut it talking blanket! What did you want anyway?"

"THE GUYS WANTED ME TO TELL YOU THAT WERE ABOUT TO WATCH THE FIREWORKS SHOW!"

He ran off towards the others, yelling "PAY UP GREEN BOOGER! I SAW THEM! THEY WERE JUST ABOUT TO SMOOCH!"

Both the TV and Italian exchanged awkward glances with each other. Were they actually trying to kiss back there?

...

They arrived at the balcony to find Bob giving Boopkins a noogie, Meggy and Tari holding hands, and Smg4 resting his head on Three's shoulder. "Where...uh..are we supposed to go?" Mr Puzzles quizzically asked before Luigi waved them over in a cheerful manner. "Over here! I saved you seats!" Mario happily came over to hug his brother while Mr Puzzles whispered "Thanks...Luigi." They stood there, trying not to look or speak with each other until Mr Puzzles broke the silence. "Did...did you see-"

Luigi quickly nodded his head which caused a profusion of embarrassed blushing to fill his screen. "We weren't...doing that...no we wouldn't."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

He gave a small pat on his shoulder and then went over to stop Bob from escalating anything too far. Mr Puzzles sighed and leaned onto the railing, watching the stars with his head in his hands. Mario wanted to join and started playing with the railing, swinging back and forth while crying "Weeeee!" Then he decided to do something really stupid. He hoisted his waist onto the bar and lifted up his hands and feet. "Look TV guy! No hands or feet! Mario's a superhero! Duh duh duhhh!"

One second after Mr Puzzles glanced over, he instantly freaked out and screamed "MARIO GET DOWN! YOU MIGHT FALL!" The Italian scoffed and said "Mario's not gonna-" In that moment, bended down too far and slipped off. "FALLLLLLL MAMAAAAA!" He shut his eyes, not wanting to see the pile of mush he would soon be when he felt something grab his leg.

Mario peeked his eyes open to find a panicked Mr Puzzles, gripping hard onto his leg and quickly pulling him up. "Holy crap Mario! I thought you were gonna die!" He said nothing and looked down on what would have been a long fall. "Don't you know anything of being self-cautious!?" Mario was still coming down from his adrenaline as Mr Puzzles heaved a sigh and said "Let's just...sit somewhere else." All the fat Italian could say in that moment was a shaky "O-Okie...d-dokie..." They got up and told the others "Were finding another spot because this idiot doesn't know how balconies work."

Nobody really put up a fight and shrugged it off as they all pretty much wanted their alone time. Soon the fireworks started and it wasn't long before they filled the sky with the colors of blue and red. It reminded the boys about their certain someone. Tari pointed up to the sky and said "Wow! So pretty!" Meggy nodded and said "Yeah...its nice to end the trip off with this."

"Meggy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For everything. I wouldn't have made it through this trip...or even my life without you."

"Awww thanks bluejay."

Meggy quickly shut her mouth when she realized what she just said. Did she just call Tari by a nickname? The blue haired girl didn't seem to mind and responded back "You're welcome...inky." Meggy felt her cheeks rise up that Tari had given her a nickname right back.

Boopkins eyes twinkled like the stars in the sky. "It's so beautiful. Right Bob?" His mesmerized stare of the sky was replaced by concern when he spun around to see Bob swaying with nausea. "Bob? Are you okay?"

"I-I'M F-FINE..."

Luigi soon noticed and told him "You look drunk."

"I-I'M NOT DRUNK! Y-YOU ARE!"

He swayed for a few more seconds before collapsing on the ground and let out loud snores. Both green bois looked over their hungover friend still Luigi turned to the fish and said "We should probably go..." Boopkins nodded and said "Yeah. Let's get you to bed Bob." He began dragging his best friend by the foot while Bob made some sleepy small talk. "I DON'T NEED TO GO TO BED MOM. YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME..."

Meggy and Tari saw the strange sight and asked Luigi what was going on. "He just passed out from intoxication. Don't worry, once he gets plenty of rest he'll be better for the plane ride back." The girls watched Boopkins dragging Bob very slowly as they got up and said "Here. We'll help." They saw Three and Four admiring the fireworks together and figured they still wanted some time for themselves. Smg3 stared at the vibrant bright red and cool blue in the sky and said "Even the fireworks agree we're meant for each other~"

"Hey! Lovebirds!"

They spun their heads around as Meggy pointed and said "We're calling it a night! When you're done can you get Mario and Mr Puzzles?" Four gave them a thumbs up while Three dismissively said "Yeah yeah sure squid. Now leave us to our private business will you." He then went back to teasing his boyfriend as Meggy just shook her head and propped up Bob's.

...

Mario just kept jumping and bouncing around while Mr Puzzles drummed his fingers on the counter. The cold wind with the rhymic sounds of clicking was spiraling him into his thoughts, except those were soon shattered by the sounds of "WAHOO! WAHOO!" He growled and shot back "Can you stop that!? You're going to get yourself hurt!"

"Mario's not going to get hurt! TV man needs to take a chill pill!"

"You could have gotten hurt on the balcony!!"

"But Mario didn't because you saved him! He knows that TV man will always be there to catch Mario!"

Mr Puzzles felt his heart beat louder when Mario said that. "It...It was just a one time thing. I couldn't care less if you died." He crossed his arms and faced the other way as Mario crooked his head. "Is TV guy still upset about the kiss?"

"What do you think."

"But Mario thought you wanted to-"

"WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG!"

His sudden outburst made Mario back up, seeing the fury in his eyes. "Why are you even still defending this!? The whole night I just wanted to promote myself with where I though I belonged. Classy people, promotions, that sort of stuff." Mario listened closely with a frown still on his face. "But instead I've been your babysitter, just making sure you wouldn't get hurt or humiliate us and we-"

His words stuttered in that sentence as he stared into the Italian's deep blue eyes. "We..."

"..."

"Nevermind. I'm leaving. You can walk yourself back."

He adjusted his shoulder cuffs and excused himself, not even bothering to fight the idiot no longer until a soft voice came from behind. "A boyfriend..."

"What?"

"What Mr Puzzles did...isn't that like a boyfriend?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he asked in an unreadable tone "What the hell are you talking about?"

"TV guy said he looked over Mario...and he danced..and smooc-"

He cut off Mario's sentence with a hushed finger. "I get it already."

He tried to avoid contact, but it was clear he had thought about this as well and what it really meant for him and Mario's relationship. "I...I wouldn't know. I've never had a boyfriend."

"Neither has Mario! Strange huh?" the Italian said while picking his nose.

"Yeah...it's a mystery." Mr Puzzles rolled his eyes until he felt Mario grab his hand and speak in the most genuine voice he had ever heard before. "What Mario is trying to say that...he's sorry."

His screen softened.

"Mario always screws things up. He always thought it was just a funny joke, but after seeing how TV guy reacted..."

Tears started to form in the Italian's eyes, about to cry like a baby and yank his hand away. That was until Mr Puzzles wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight. "Don't apologize Mario. I know you don't mean it." Mario felt flustered, his cheeks heating up as he hid in the crook of Mr Puzzles' shoulder. The embrace felt so warm and fuzzy. Both of them secretly liked it, but neither said a word.

When they let go, the hug made Mr Puzzles' realize how cold it had gotten. He shivered and clung onto his arms as Mario noticed and started pulling the cuffs off. "Does...Does TV man want his gloves back?"

"Nah. You need them more than me. Besides, my circuits generate the heat I need."

They stood in silence for a few more seconds before Mr Puzzles said "Guess I better go huh?" Mario nodded in disappointment, hanging his head as he hoped this conversation would have turned into something more. And that's when it happened. Mr Puzzles had started walking away when he sung back around, ran up to Mario, and pressed his screen against the Italian's lips. Mario flinched in surprise as he could do nothing but watch the exact moment he had actually did it.

Finally, Mr Puzzles backed off, allowing them to catch their breath as he smiled and said "Well see you later handsome~" He walked off, knowing that the speechless state Mario was in was punishment enough. The fat Italian was just standing there in shock, trying to collect any thoughts he had. His mind was usually just a spinning version of himself, but in that moment alone it was replaced by something new. Love.

Oh my god...he just kissed a TV didn't he?

Oh well, he could always put it off. I mean Mr Puzzles didn't say they were boyfriends...yet.

Author's Note: OMG I DID IT! I FINISHED TWO HEARTS IN THE CITY OF LOVE! I really hoped you all enjoyed this project as it was a great experimentation for couple moments I wanted to do with Smg34, try out Puzzlevision episodes, and even try writing more Marware. Next up is the Tangled Au. I have already started working on the first chapter, but I don't expect it to be finished until November. If you were wondering what song the crew was dancing to, it was a thousand years by Christina Perri.

The End~

[sapphire-writes]

an ego thing ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

previous part 2 // next part 4 // series masterlist

summary: our academic rivals are at it again, forced to run a study group together. warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit spicy times, oral (f&m receiving), teasing, spit play. word count: 2.3k note: happy feral Friday loves 😈 you asked, you pleaded, you cried and I delivered because ily 😚

“Professor, I don't need a co-facilitator,” you beg your professor.

“It’s university policy, Y/N,” he tells you, “two students have to lead the study group.”

You huff in disappointment. You tutored for extra credit, and not to mention it looks phenomenal on your transcript, but you didn’t want someone dragging you down. You just wanted to host the study group, answer questions, and get out as soon as possible.

“Who’s leading with me?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Aemond,” your professor answers and your heart drops into your stomach.

You hadn’t really spoken since the other night and your scandalous quickie in the library study room. You’d turned in your paper, said an awkward goodbye, and then proceeded to use your vibrator to the memory of Aemond calling you a bad girl while fucking your brains out. 

Scratch that last part. You’re trying to forget that part. You’re trying to forget the whole thing actually. 

“Seriously?” you ask and your professor nearly rolls his eyes.

“You’re the top students in my class,” he tells you, “it would be good for you to join forces, and work together.”

You raise your eyebrows at his hopeful expression. He tilts his head to the side, lacing his fingers together as he speaks.

“Or no study group,” he says suddenly, “no extra credit, I’ll just do office hours.”

Your mouth falls open.

“That would be a disservice to the class,” you accuse.

“Then you better go chat with Mr. Targaryen.”

A frustrated noise escapes you and your professor’s eyes widen, he even takes a step back.

“Fine,” you say between your teeth, and your professor gives you a relieved smile. 

That’s how you found yourself at the door of Aemond Targaryen’s dorm room. You know it's him, you asked his sister Helaena who confirmed he’s still living on campus even though his roommate (and brother) Aegon joined a fraternity and moved into their house. 

There’s a name card on the door that reads “Aemond” in the shape of a wolf. It matches all the doors on the floor, a cute attempt by the resident assistant, Cregan Stark. 

You knock on the door, tapping your foot impatiently. 

“Hey,” he says opening the door, but it's phrased more like a question. 

He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt and sweats. You can see he was studying, books are strewn at the desk that lies in the corner of his room. 

“Hey,” you tell him, “look, Professor Strong says we have to do the study group together.”

Aemond hums to himself.

“When is it?” he asks, leaning against his door frame.

“Tonight.”

“Can’t,” he says, pursing his lips.

“Why not?” you ask, already irritated. 

“Nosy,” he sneers, looking you up and down. 

“Got a hot date, Targaryen?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he answers, smirking as your cheeks pink. 

“Well save the girl the agony of a date with you and cancel.”

“Who said it was a girl?”

“Spare the guy then.”

He chuckles, moving out of the way.

“I’ll make it work,” he says, “come in, stop standing there.”

You follow him inside. 

“I made some flashcards,” you tell him, closing the door and dropping your bag on his floor. He sits in the chair at his desk, next to his bed. 

“Okay, so you’ve got it all figured out,” Aemond says, in a condescending tone.

“Haha,” you tell him, flipping through, “I only made a few but I figured we could make it fun-”

“How are flashcards fun?” he teases.

Your patience is wearing thin. He’s acting different, cockier now that he’s fucked you. You can sense it with every word he speaks, with the way his eyes caress your body. You want to knock him down a few pegs. 

“Like this,” you tell him, taking the elastic band off of your deck of flashcards.

Aemond raises his eyebrows at you, still seemingly unimpressed.

“Every question you get right, I take something off,” you tell him.

His lips part, a fire dancing in his different colored eyes before he composes himself. You’ve caught him though, and a smirk plays on your mouth. 

“We can’t play that with a study group,” he argues.

You shrug.

“Fine, we don’t have-”

“But we’re not with the study group,” he says, cutting you off. 

Your smirk grows. 

“Here I’ll even start with an easy one,” you tell him, looking at the flashcards in front of you while absentmindedly twirling a piece of your hair. 

“Perfect,” you say, choosing one, “what is the capital of the Reach?”

Aemond takes his tongue between his teeth, you can see it slightly poking out. Your cheeks flush at the memory of his tongue on you. 

“Highgarden, easy,” he tells you. 

“Mhmm,” you answer, unzipping your sweatshirt. 

Aemond watches as you shrug out of the sleeves, letting it fall to the ground. 

You keep going, and with every correct answer another piece of clothing drops to the floor. Your pants are off, then your shirt. You’d even argue for a solid five minutes if your shoes count (they do). They now lay on the ground along with your socks. 

You’re thankful for the matching set you decided on, a lacy number that compliments your skin tone. Aemond’s eyes rest on your face, but you can tell he’s trying to not let them drop to the amount of exposed skin you’re showing. 

Your eyes light up wickedly as he hesitates before answering the next question.

“You don’t know it,” you gasp, dramatically. 

“Hold on-”

“You smug son of a bitch!”

“Don’t talk about my mom like that, c’mon-”

Laughter escapes you as you watch his eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“Just go to the next one,” he says, motioning. 

“We’re out of cards,” you say, twisting your mouth into a pout, a sarcastic apology.

Aemond’s jaw slacks, his disappointment evident on his face.

“Oops,” you shrug, still clothed in your bra and panties, “guess we need to think of more.”

“You’re actually evil,” Aemond groans, causing you to chuckle.

“Poor baby,” you mock him, reaching for your shirt. 

Aemond is quick to stand, tearing the fabric from your fingers. You blink up at him. 

“Think of another question,” he asks.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Please,” he adds, looking away. 

You bring a finger to tap your chin, narrowing your eyes and keeping your lips in a firm pout. 

“Hmm,” you pretend to think. 

“Any day now.”

“I’m thinking.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, and something in his eyes darkens. 

“You are such a brat,” he says, before bringing a hand behind your neck, pulling you flush against him.

His kiss is punishing, it makes your knees tremble. Aemond’s free hand finds your waist, caressing the exposed skin and playing with the lace at the top of your panties. His tongue enters your mouth, deepening the kiss. You let him kiss you for a moment before pushing him away, a hand on his chest. 

Aemond’s reaction is immediate, pulling your face back to his, the snarl on his face. You kiss him back, wrapping your hands around his neck. His hands fall to your ass, kneading into the soft flesh. He backs up toward the bed, taking you with him as he sits, hands skirting down the back of your thighs to pull you on top of him. 

He’s kissing you all the while, tongue licking the roof of your mouth, dragging out a moan as you grind your hips into his. He pulls away only a moment to tug his t-shirt off and throw it to some corner of the room. He’s rock hard, and feeling him underneath you sends a shiver of pleasure up your spine. Aemond drags his mouth to your neck, sucking on the smooth flesh. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your neck, “how long I’ve pictured having you in my bed.”

“Awww,” you breathe, “careful Aemond, I’m beginning to think you might like me.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs, biting into your collarbone. 

Your breath catches and you tangle your fingers in his silky hair, holding his face against you. You’re bound to be covered in hickies tomorrow from how he’s nipping at you, but you can’t summon the energy to tell him to stop. Not when his lips feel so good against the soft skin of your throat, your shoulders, your neck. You can feel the sharp edge of his nose nudging the spot where your shoulder connects with your throat. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he says as his fingers reach to unclasp your bra. 

You shrug the material down your arms, shimmying out of it until your breasts are freed, hanging heavy and lifting with every ragged breath you release. 

“Hmm?” Aemond murmurs before latching onto your nipple, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak.

Your eyes nearly roll back into your skull as a wave of desire ripples in your core. 

“I have,” you whimper, “especially when you’re being an asshole.”

You feel his finger teasing your underwear and you lift your hips, dragging your fingers down his chest until you reach his hardened cock. Aemond releases a breathy chuckle as you dip your hand below his waistband, wrapping your fingers around his length. 

It’s not fair how well-endowed he is, it's cruel really. 

You bite your lip in anticipation as you stroke him, watching his lips part, the way his breath turns ragged and his lashes flutter across his sharp cheekbones. His fingers pull your underwear to the side and you lift your hips, sinking down onto him.

You can’t help the pleasurable sigh that leaves your lips as you raise your hips beginning to ride him. The burn in your thighs is glorious, and Aemond’s hands rest on your hips, guiding you but letting you control the pace.

“You know what I think?” Aemond says, bringing a hand behind your hair, tangling in it, yanking your head backward.

You moan as you continue to bounce on his cock, as he buries his face between your breasts. He captures your nipple in his mouth, biting down harshly, before doing the same to the other. 

“I think you fucking like it,” he growls, “getting me all worked up in class.”

You choke out a laugh as he drives his hips up into you and it finishes with a moan. 

“You’re such a dick.” 

“You fucking love it.”

You tangle your hands in his hair, holding him against your breasts as you continue to ride him. Aemond’s hands dig into your hips, lifting you to assist the increasing pace. Your breasts bounce wildly against his face as he slams you on his cock, the slickness of your arousal coating your inner thighs.

Aemond becomes impatient, twisting you onto the bed. You lock your legs around his waist as he drives his hips into you. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” you tease and Aemond wraps a hand around your throat.

The space between his thumb and forefinger pinches your jaw.

“Open up,” he tells you and your eyes widen.

You can feel your cheeks redden but you do as you’re told by opening your mouth.

“Wider,” he growls and you stick out your tongue.

You know what’s coming, but it still sends a thrill through you as he spits onto your outstretched tongue.

“Still cute?” he asks, quivering an eyebrow.

You close your mouth swallowing.

“Adorable,” you tell him.

His thrusts increase, grip tightening on your throat as he fucks you relentlessly into the mattress. You’re trembling underneath him, whimpers leaving your lips.

“You’re not leaving this fucking room,” he growls, “not until I fuck this bratty little attitude out of you.”

Your smile is wicked, as his hips roll against you, cock brushing against the sweet spot within you. You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you when suddenly he pulls out, standing up. 

“On your knees,” he says, pumping his cock in his hand. 

You eagerly oblige and wrap your lips around his length. He hisses through clenched teeth as you bob your head around his length, his fingers tangling in your hair. You’re a drooling, gagging mess as he fucks your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as his cock hits the back of your throat. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

You hum around his length as he finishes, and you enthusiastically swallow his release. You release him with a pop, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. 

Aemond helps you off of your knees, panting.

“Fuck that was good,” Aemond says, kissing you again.

You moan against his mouth. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing him, that smartass mouth of his works wonders. 

His hands grip your waist pushing you onto the bed. He settles between your thighs, lips closing around your clit, and a strangled cry escapes your lips. 

“Fu-fuck!” you mewl as he slips two fingers inside of you, his tongue unrelenting in its strokes on your needy clit. 

Aemond crooks his fingers against the rough section of your inner walls that makes your vision go white. You bring your hands to your breasts squeezing them as he feasts on you. Your thighs tremble around his head, and soon you’re releasing a flurry of obscenities as your pussy clenches around his fingers and you find your release. 

“Stop, stop,” you whimper as he keeps fucking your swollen walls with his fingers. 

Aemond hums, lightly licking at your clit, as he slowly removes his fingers from you. He lays next to you as you try to recover from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“What time’s the study group?” Aemond asks.

“Hmm?”

“The study group?”

You blink, running a hand over your face. 

“C’mon use that big brain of yours,” he teases, smirking at you. 

“Umm it's at 7,” you tell him, jogging your memory.

Aemond glances at the clock that sits on his desk, before turning back to you.

“Good,” he says rolling on top of you once more, hardened cock pressing against your thigh.

“Plenty of time.”

note: hope you enjoyed!! ILY ILY ILY MWAH 🤭😚😘

taglist: @ephemeralninon, @aemonds-wifey, @haydee5010, @schniiipsel, @sweetsweetpsyche, @letmeloveyouuuu, @glitterandgoldfinds, @greenowlfactif, @vrtualfairy

HOTD taglist: @bluevxnus, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescvpe, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @nik2blog, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy

bold means I couldn't tag

visit my masterlist (link at top) for link to HOTD taglist 💚

[poetryandfluffycats]

Hii.. can i request a nsfw tsukasa x fem reader? He looks so hot in the new climax event card

A/N: very mildly based off of another fic I did(Confessions) but you don't need to read that to understand this. enjoy!

Pairing: Tsukasa Suou x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, public intimacy(in a locker room shower), making out, knee riding if you squint, fingering, princess used as petname, getting walked in on, small amount of Leo screentime

Content: Being with Tsukasa is great, and you love him very much, but the amount of attention put on you by the media? Not great. Not only was it insanely annoying, it also made it hard to engage in... private matters.

Words: 838

NSFW oneshot under cut!

My Princess~

A few weeks in, and you were pretty sure the whole school had caught on to your relationship with Tsukasa. The media had been going insane, printing and plastering stolen moments between the two of you on every website and magazine they could get their hands on, each headline more explicit than the last. You couldn't even hold hands without the paparazzi jumping you. And that was all fine, you could deal with that much. There was just one small, tiny, micro-sized problem.

All the attention was making it extremely hard to get laid.

Sure, the two of you had kissed and cuddled plenty of times, which was fine, you weren't an animal, but you were only human! A human who had been on a very long dry spell even before you had met him. Your body was screaming at you each time you got close to him, urging you to go further and further. But there was always someone around to interrupt you, whether it was another member of Knights or some nosy stranger.

Which was how you ended up in this predicament, pressed up against the steamy wall of one of the showers in the locker room, the water on full blast and Tsukasas tongue shoved down your throat. You weren't quite sure exactly how it had started, all you could remember was that he had gone a bit too fair with one of his silly prince acts and your hormones got the better of you. Which in your opinion, wasn't so bad.

Tsukasa pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily as he looked over your form-which was only covered by the tiniest thong and matching bra you owned. Though, he wasn't doing at great job at being modest either, having stripped down to his boxers that did very little to hide his growing boner "(name)... are you sure you want to do this?"

"Please, Kasa~" You groaned, grabbing onto his shoulders and pulling him back onto your mouth. He eagerly got back to work, kissing and sucking on your lips so hard you were sure there would be bruises in the morning. His hands trailed up and down your body, squeezing and groping every inch he could grab onto. You moaned into his mouth as his finger brushed against your hardened nipples, allowing him further access into your mouth.

He brought his knee in between your legs, pressing it hard against your clothed heat. The feeling caused you to let out a high-pitched whimper, throwing your head back and giving Tsukasa the perfect opportunity to latch onto your neck-sucking and biting at the delicate flesh.

"Does that feel good, my princess?" He murmured between kisses. "Tell me what you want, I'll do anything for you"

You bit down hard on your bottom lip as he rubbed his knee in circles over your clothed clit, trying to muffle the porn star level moans that threatened to escape your throat. "M-more! Please... I want..."

Unable to get the words out, you instead grabbed one of his hands, guiding it down your body and onto your soaking panties. A sly smile appeared on his face as he got the hint, softly caressing the damp fabric.

"So wet already... I should help you out with that, huh?" He purred, giving your neck a teasing nip before dipping his fingers past the barrier of your panties. He paused for a second as he took in just how soaked you were, the creamy liquid dripping onto his hand. "Holy s-shit, all for me? Your amazing"

You whined as he ran his finger up and down your slit, collecting your slick on his fingers and twirling it over your aching clit. His other hand made its way behind your back, swiftly unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the ground. Before you could react, he had already latched his hot mouth onto your right nipple, sucking at the bud like a starving baby. His thumb continued toying with your clit as he did so, rubbing the bundle of nerves in soft and gentle strokes. He pushed a digit past your hole, thrusting in and out at a pace just fast enough to make you see stars, but so slow it left you wanting much more.

"God, s'good!" You whined, tangling your hands in his red locs and pulling him impossibly closer. You were getting so close, all the tension from the past weeks building up inside your core, ready to be released at any second. Just a bit more, just a little more-

"Wahahhaha! Found you two-ACK! Dear god, my eyes!"

Just as one final thrust of Tsukasas fingers tipped you over the edge, the shower door was thrown open, revealing a once triumphant Leo turned competently traumatised by the scene in front of him.

Welp, so much for 'privacy' and 'finally having a moment to ourselves', with how Leo was, you were sure all of Knights would know about this in a matter of minutes.