#he runs around the deck until i’m done and sit down

[grimmroach]

please look at this guy

[puckinghischier]

The 7th Year

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils

notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼

[4.4k]

“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.

“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.

Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.

Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.

“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.

You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.

“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.

People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.

All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.

“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.

Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.

Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.

“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.

“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.

“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.

You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.

“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.

You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.

“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.

You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.

Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.

Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.

You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.

You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.

As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.

Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.

“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.

“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.

Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.

Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.

Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.

Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.

“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.

You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.

“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.

You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.

“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.  

You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.

“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.

Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”

You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.

When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.

You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.

What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.

When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini. 

You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.

“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.

“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.

You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.

When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.

You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.

“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”

He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.

“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.

“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.

You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.

“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.

As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.

You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.

You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.

You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.

Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.

“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.

Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.

A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.

You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.

“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.

You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.

“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.

“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.

“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”

He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.

“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.

“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.

When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.

Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.

You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.

You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.

“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.

Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.

You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.

“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.

You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.

“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.

Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.

“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.

You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.

“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.

“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.

The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.

“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.

“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.

“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.

He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”

You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.

“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.

“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”

Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.

You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”

This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.

“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.

“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.

Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.

His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.

He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.

“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.

You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.

“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”

You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.

“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.

He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”

You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.

You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.

“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.

[clockwayswrites]

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

[lovebugism]

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆��˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy. 

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

[theodoresgirl]

hey I have a request for a Killian jones x female reader where the female reader is Emma’s twin sister (looks more like snow) and has a 3 year old daughter from a past toxic relationship, if you can’t do it that’s fine either way thank you :)

Killian jones x Emma’s twin sister

Killian jones x Fem!Reader

A/n: I did not forget about this request, Sorry it took me a few days to do! Hope you enjoy<3

—————————————————————————

Y/n was the daughter of David Nolan and Mary Margaret. She also is the twin sister of the savior Emma Swan. She grew up being bounced between foster homes in New Orleans. When she was 23 she had gotten into a really toxic relationship, at 25 she got pregnant and had a daughter.

She had been stuck in the toxic relationship until she was 28, She had packed up her and some of her daughters things and left in the middle of the night.

She had silky long black hair that was curly, brown eyes and a round face with dimples. She almost looked like a clone of Mary Margaret. Her daughter Edith had long dark brunette hair with emerald eyes.

Killian had met y/n and her daughter Edith one day when she had went to visit her sister and parents for one of the first times.

⭐️

Thursday June 25th, 12:51pm.

Y/n was sitting on the top deck of the jolly roger with Edith, They were eating some sandwiches from granny’s. They were waiting on Killian to finish cleaning his ship.

Edith was sitting on the edge of the ship walls looking out on the water, Y/n kept her view on her daughter and occasionally if he was in view, glancing at killian. Y/n finishes her sandwich and crumbles up the wrapper putting it into a bag.

Y/n looks around trying to see killian but doesn’t, “can i have your trash princess?” She holds the bag out so Edith can put her trash in it, “and I need you to be on the deck instead of railing so I can go run this up to the dumpster” Edith shakes her head as she puts her trash into the bag.

“I can’t leave you on the railing of the boat- ship? You could fall in the water” “Mermaid” edith looks over the edge. “It doesn’t work that way” She holds Edith back so she doesn’t fall. “I’ll watch her, Don’t worry about it love” Killian came up behind her, startling her. “Oh!- it’s fine- you- You don’t gotta worry about it, Weren’t you cleaning?” she nervously smiled, still not used to someone offering to help her.

“I’m done cleaning, Honestly love we could just head back to your loft if you wanted-“ “i wanna stay” the little one interrupted. Y/n sighed before nodding “i’ll be right back then” she said as she walked down and off the jolly roger.

“Alright then love” Killian smirks and she walks away. He turns towards Edith and leans against the railing of the ship and holds himself up with his elbows. “So what do you like kiddo?” He asked curiously. Edith answered back “Princess, Cartoons, Barbie-“ “I'm gonna have to cut you off there my lady, I have no idea what this ‘barbie’ is, Cartoons too?” Killian admitted. Edith looks at Killian with a confused look, “you don’t know barbie?”. Killian shook his head “what is it?”

“Barbie is movies, some of my favorites” She smiles. “You’ll have to show me one next time I’m over then” Killian pats her head with his hand.

Edith nods and giggles “we can watch a mermaid one” “oh? There’s mermaids?” Killian raises an eyebrow. “yes!! Yes!!” she nods and smiles.

⭐️

Saturday June 27th, 8:00pm

Y/n was laying in the living room with Killian and Edith. Edith was sitting in front of her mother and the pirate watching Barbie: In a Mermaid Tale 2. Killian was laying on the couch with y/n laying on his chest.

Killian had his focus on the tv, only sometimes asking questions about ‘Barbie’, and either getting an answer from the little brunette in front of him or the pale skinned woman in his arms.

After the movie was over both Y/n and Edith were asleep, Killian carefully slips himself out from under Y/n and picks her up. He carries her to her bedroom and lays her down before going out to the living room again and turning everything off. He picks up little Edith and carries her to her room and lays her down, tucking her in, “Goodnight Kiddo.” He muttered as he walked out of the room going into Y/n.

[callsign-fox]

Wingman - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Been sitting in the drafts/Lightly edited

Written with @fanficgirl429 <3

18+ Only // Enjoy xo

--------------------------------------------------------

When you sign on to be a pilot for the Navy as a female, you know you’ll have to put up with egotistical men on a daily basis, however, it’s not until you have to work with them that you realize how incredibly self centered they actually are. 

The canopy to my jet raised and I quickly climbed down the ladder. My wingman, Rooster, landed right behind me and he was currently maneuvering his jet into the assigned spot beside mine. Rooster was not my first choice for a wingman, he wasn’t my second or third either. It was near impossible to work with him and I was sure our superiors were getting ready to ship one of us off to Guam just to separate us from one another. Fortunately for them, we were two of the best the Navy had to offer and so for that reason alone, we were stuck together. 

I glanced up from my current conversation with my flight crew just as Rooster walked by, his head down and stupid aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes. I rolled my eyes as he continued by not saying a word. Of course he wouldn't say anything, he was the reason we failed the exercise.

“That was a disaster,” I mumbled to myself.

I turned behind me just as my friend Phoenix walked by. “What was going on up there?” she asked, watching    

Bradley as he disappeared into the locker room. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask Bradley and report it back to me?” 

Phoenix shook her head. “No thanks. I’m slightly terrified of him when he’s angry.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, he’s an asshole.”

Phoenix glanced back at the locker room before looking over at me. She lowered her voice as she said, “I have to tell you something about Bradley and it’s probably going to make you mad.” 

“Well if it has to do with Bradley, of course it’s going to make me mad.”

Phoenix sighed and began, “Well, I was at the Hard Deck the other night and ran into Anders. Apparently there is a rumor going around about you back in the Academy.” 

My eyes narrowed in on her and I clenched my fist, “About what?”

“Now don't shoot the messenger, you can be scary sometimes too.” 

“Phoenix!” I yelled, losing my patience. 

“Apparently Bradley started a rumor that the only reason you got into Top Gun was because you…” Phoenix trailed off. 

My heart began to race and I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Because I what?” 

“Because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

“What?” I shrieked and quickly began to walk towards the locker room. 

When I reached the door to the men's locker room, I pulled it open and immediately locked eyes with Hangman. A towel hung off his hips, showing off his incredible abs. I tore my eyes away, feeling a blush creep up my neck. 

“Where is he?” I asked. 

Without hesitating, Hangman pointed towards the back, where I assumed the showers were. There was only one shower being used and I walked over and pushed the white curtain aside. 

“Hey!” a very familiar voice shouted. “What the fuck?” 

I took a step back, not wanting to get wet. Bradley reached out and grabbed his white towel from the hook and wrapped it around his waist. I couldn’t help but notice how well built he was. His six pack abs were on full display and I hated how much I wanted to run my fingers along them. 

“What do you want Y/N?” 

My eyes snapped away from his body and I stared into his brown eyes. “I heard a rumor about me. One that you might happen to know about.” 

Bradley narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yea, I might happen to know what you’re referring to.” 

“Are you insane? What did I do to you besides tolerate you every damn day for the last four years!”

Bradley shrugged. “I’ve been a delight! You have done nothing but drive me insane.”

“You didn't know, the only reason I’m here is to drive you crazy!”

Bradley laughed. “Nope. The only reason you’re here is because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

My jaw dropped and I couldn't help but growl at him. “That never happened! I hate you so much.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the feeling is mutual.” 

I took a step forward and shoved him hard causing him to stumble back into the shower, but before I could react his hand grabbed my wrist, pulling me under the hot stream of water. To my amusement my hands were pressed against his chest, and before I could register what I was doing my nails ran down his toned abs to the top of his towel. The moment was over when I pulled my hands away and brushed them through my now wet hair. 

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are when you’re mad at me?” he said, his voice low. 

His words caught me off guard. “Wait, what?”

The hot water was still running over my body and I was becoming increasingly aware of just how see through my white t-shirt was when I noticed Bradley’s eyes looking down at my chest. 

“I know I shouldn't be this turned on right now, but I am.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed a piece of wet hair behind my ear. “You’re such a prick.”

Bradley ran his tongue along his lower lip and smiled. A moment later his lips came crashing into mine. The urge to push him off of me came and went as my hands snaked around his neck and I began twirling my fingers through his hair. 

His lips moved quickly as he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. My body was pressed against his and I could feel his erection against my stomach. My core slightly throbbed, begging to be touched by him. 

Bradley’s fingers toyed with the bottom of my wet t-shirt before he slipped them under and pulled the shirt over my head, barely breaking the kiss. My shirt dropped to the floor and I quickly pushed it away with my foot. By now the rest of the guys would have left, but I pulled the shower curtain shut just in case. 

His lips brushed softly against my neck before pressing against my ear and whispered, “Does that mean you want me to keep going?” 

My fingers toyed with the top of Bradley’s towel as I gave him a slight nod. His hands gripped my waist and he swiftly spun us around so that my back was pressed against the wall. Bradley hurriedly unbuttoned my wet jean shorts and pushed them down my waist before dropping them to the floor. He quickly turned off the water as it began to get cold, but not before our lips were once again intertwined. In the mess of clothes coming off, I hadn’t even noticed his towel dropped to the floor, proving to me that the rumors about how endowed Bradley Bradshaw was, were indeed true. 

“Well, well. I guess I won’t ever be able to spread anymore rumors about how small Rooster is.” 

He pulled back, slightly offended. “Wait, what have you been telling people?” 

I let out a small laugh. “What’s done is done, YOU told people I gave an admiral a blow job.” 

“And if you’re any good at it, I'll be sure to pass that on and your spot in Top Gun will have been well deserved.” 

I gave him a small smack on his arm before reaching over and placing my hand against his chest. My eyes locked with his as I slowly began to run my fingers down his chest and towards his stomach. My polished nails left faint red lines on his skin and Bradley looked all too amused as he watched me drop down to my knees. 

Bradley sucked in his breath as my hand wrapped around him. I slowly moved my hand along his length, which by Bradley’s reaction of pressing his hand to the wall to steady himself, was a good move. I gently grazed my tongue over his tip and his free hand instinctively moved to my long brown hair, giving it a slight tug. I smiled as his hips jerked forward, pushing his length further into my mouth. I didn’t miss a beat as I continued with my lips wrapped around him, causing him to let out a deep moan and pull tighter on my hair.

“Y/N,” Bradley breathed, “you need to stop…now.”

I let out a small chuckle before standing up and Bradley immediately pulled me against him. He placed his lips against mine, kissing me quickly. One hand wrapped around my waist, while the other moved up my stomach and towards my chest. His fingers played with my nipple, causing it to stand erect. With each touch, my core throbbed from being ignored by him. I rubbed my thighs together, trying to ease the tension but Bradley noticed. His hand moved from my chest, along my stomach, and towards my core. 

His calloused fingers ran along my center, coming to a stop at my sensitive spot. Two fingers rubbed against it and I let out a moan. Bradley’s lips continued to move against mine and he slipped two fingers inside me. He moved them against me and I could feel my high quickly approaching with each movement. 

“I’m close,” I told him. 

His fingers continued to move and it didn’t take long before my walls were clenching around him. My legs became weak and Bradley placed his hands on my hips, helping me steady myself. It had been a while since I had an orgasm that intense. 

Once I was able to stand on my own, I reached down and placed my hand on his erection. He took a step closer to me. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asked. 

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to walk out of here,” I told him. 

“You’re making it really hard to hate you right now,” Bradley said, while placing a hand on the back of my thigh. 

My leg wrapped around his waist, and without hesitation Bradley pushed his length inside of me, my walls stretching around him. A gasp escaped my lips and Bradley smiled.

“You’re so tight.” 

He gave me a moment to get used to the size before he began to move his hips against mine. 

Each thrust pushed me closer to my second climax of the day. I let out a loud gasp as his length hit the perfect spot. 

Bradley smirked as I continued to melt against his touch. 

“I’m so close,” I whispered. 

He reached down and pressed two fingers against my sensitive spot, rubbing it casually. 

Within moments my walls clenched around him and my legs became weak. The humidity from the shower made our bodies sticky and sweaty, which only helped my arousal. Bradley continued thrusting and seconds later he released inside of me, a moan escaping his lips. 

The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breaths. Bradley stared at me and I smiled shyly, fully realizing that we were both completely naked. I reached for the towel he had hung on the side of the shower and wrapped it around my waist. 

“That was mine.” 

I stepped out of the shower, reaching down and picking up my soaked t-shirt and shorts that had lazily been pushed aside. “These are the only clothes I have with me. How am I supposed to get home?” 

He walked over to his duffle bag that was sitting on the bathroom bench and pulled out a gray t-shirt. “Here you go. I can get it back from you tomorrow, after training.”

“That would imply I am inviting you over to get it, and I haven’t.” 

“Oh,” Bradley said with a wink. “You will invite me over.” And once again there was that attitude I knew and hated.

[whiskeypascals]

Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy

(not my gif)

pre-outbreak and happy Joel :)

Summary: It’s nearing Halloween and Y/N invited Joel over to hand out candy and have a few drinks after helping him put out decorations, Sarah was out trick or treating with some of her friends and wouldn’t be home until morning and things end up getting spicy between Joel and Y/N wink wink

Warnings: smut, bottom Y/N , alcohol, dirty talk, biting, multiple orgasms, teasing, praise.

———————

It was the Monday before Halloween, 2002 and Joel was excited to say the least, he loved the holiday and he loved seeing the subdivision full of life. He had got an early start on setting out decorations when he noticed that his neighbor, Y/N, was also starting early.

Y/N was chaotically putting out stringy fake cobweb decorations and it looked like he was struggling quite a bit.

Joel laughed to himself, noticing how Y/N kept getting his fingers caught in the fake webs and started to walk over to ask if he needed help.

“Hey! One second I’m almost…Fuck.” Y/N said before getting the decoration caught up by his shoulder somehow.

“Must’ve caught a thread, here, let me get it.” Joel offered up, reaching up to Y/N’s shoulder to grab the string. He pulled it off of his shoulder and handed it to him.

“Thanks, I can’t believe I’ve lived here for almost three months and never got your name, I’m Y/N.” He reached out his empty hand.

“Joel,” He smiled and went to shake Y/N’s hand, “Hey uh, I’m almost done over at my place if you need a hand.” he offered up.

“Oh, that would be really nice” Y/N smiled back at Joel.

The pair finished right as it was getting dark and after Y/N reached down to plug in the purple and orange lights, the two simply marveled at the decorating job they completed.

“Thanks Joel, I appreciate it.” Y/N rolled up his sleeves and looked over to the man next to him before speaking again.

“Hey, would you like to come have a couple drinks on Halloween and hand out candy? I mean it’s only fair because you helped me do all of this.” He motioned to the decorations.

Joel looked over at Y/N and thought for a second before replying with a simple, “Yeah that’d be nice”.

Flash forward to that Thursday and Y/N was sitting out in his driveway in a lawn chair watching Joel say goodbye to Sarah.

“If you need anything you tell Veronica’s mom to call me alright baby?” He said going to hug his daughter.

“Okay dad, love you!” She said turning to run towards her group of friends huddled on the street.

“Love you too baby! Have fun!” He yelled as she crossed to greet her friends.

Y/N noticed Joel run back inside his house and for a split second thought Joel had forgotten about their plans but then a group of trick or treaters started walking up his driveway and the thought slipped his mind.

Inside, Joel was running around his house finding all of the pieces for his costume, he dressed up every year and since Y/N had just moved in in July, he’d never known about Joel being one of the only adults on the street dressing up. He found all the pieces of the set as quickly as he could and looked in the mirror after he put all of it on. He smiled to himself and grabbed his cell and went outside.

Y/N was still sitting out in the lawn chair set up in his driveway when Joel walked over, “Hey Y/N sorry if I’m late at all, had to change real fast.” He smiled.

Y/N was absolutely awe struck. Joel was dressed up in full cowboy attire, decked out with a bandana around his neck and a leather hat on.

“No it’s all good Joel, there wasn’t any rush or anything. It’s still pretty early.” He said standing up to go grab a second chair so Joel could sit.

Joel found two cans of beer, one unopened and he assumed it was for him, but didn’t want to make himself too much at home and waited to wait til Y/N got back to ask to drink it.

Y/N came back with Joel’s chair in his arms and unfolded it so he could sit down.

“So, I’m guessing you dress up every year?” Y/N asked as he sat.

“No these are my normal clothes, is there something wrong with them?” Joel asked looking down at his clothes, looking up at, Y/N and laughing.

“You look nice Joel.” Y/N smiled.

“Oh, I almost forgot, here’s the drink I promised, we could always go inside and get more later if you want.” Y/N said, grabbing the can next to his own and handing it over to Joel.

“Thanks.” Joel grabbed the beer, opened it, and took a drink.

More kids came and went and then came and went again before Joel’s phone started ringing. He answered and talked for a few minutes before hanging up. Y/N glanced over at him while he was putting his phone back in his pocket, Joel looked over at him and started explaining the call.

“Sarah’s staying at her friends house tonight, so if your offer from earlier is still up we can go on inside.”

Y/N nodded and smiled “Yeah, we can go”

The pair stood up and Y/N got the chairs while Joel got the nearing empty cans and the candy bowl with about a handful left of candy to the front door and they went inside.

Joel was met with a pleasant smell as he walked in, Y/N’s house was beautifully decorated and incredibly clean. Joel thought back when he remembered that he has never seen a kid or another adult come in or enter and it hit him that Y/N lived alone.

“It’s uh, nothing special.” Y/N said noticing Joel looking around like he’s never been in a house before.

“you have a nice house, Y/N.” Joel said following the other man into the kitchen area.

“Are you a whiskey and coke man?” Y/N asked

“Take a look at me.” Joel said sitting down at the bar.

Y/N chuckled and grabbed two whiskey glasses and opening up the fridge to grab a two liter of coke. he brought the glasses and soda to the bar where the bottle of whiskey was sitting.

Joel was still sat in his costume, he took off his hat when he sat down but kept everything else on. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as he poured the drinks, Joel took a notice and smirked at the man in front of him.

Y/N finished pouring and scooted one of the glasses to Joel and watched as he took a swig. He swallowed thickly and felt the burn he’d grown to love go down his throat. He set the glass back on the table and raised both of his eyebrows

“Goes down smooth.” He said as Y/N finally took a drink, who nodded after putting his glass down next to Joel’s.

A few drinks later, almost half of the whiskey bottle was empty and Y/N and Joel were sitting on the couch watching a movie that Joel insisted was ‘the best thing to come out’. The first two buttons on Joel’s shirt had come unbuttoned and the bandana he had around his neck had disappeared. The two men had a very pleasant glow inside of them from the drinks.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Y/N had gotten hungry and remembered that he had bought cereal the day before and got the best idea on the planet.

“I’m gonna get some cereal, you want a bowl?” he got up to go to the kitchen.

“I’m good.” Joel replied from the couch.

Y/N saw out of the corner of his eye that Joel stood up and started walking over to him.

“You need something Joel?”

“mm-mm”

Joel sat down at the bar again and just watched as Y/N made his cereal.

“You sobering up?” Y/N asked, he was himself so he was curious about Joel’s state.

“Yeah.” he said.

His voice was deep and it sounded like he was tired, Y/N found it incredibly attractive.

Y/N sat his bowl down on the bar in front of Joel.

“Your costume looked really good tonight Joel.” he said not trying to hide that he was eyeing the man across the bar up and down.

Joel was taken aback by the sudden change in Y/N’s demeanor, he went from an awkward dude who kept getting stuck in fake cobwebs, and now he was talking him up.

It wasn’t a bad thing to Joel though.

“I bet you’d like it better if it was off, huh?”

Joel smirked and stood up

Y/N was suddenly speechless.

“Can’t be all quiet now, Y/N.”

Joel walked his way around the bar and stood in front of Y/N, who swallowed just as thick as Joel when he took the first drink of whiskey a few hours prior.

“Saw you eyeing me up all night pretty boy.”

Y/N said nothing again.

It was his turn to be shocked, he had never thought that Joel could get like this, but he could honestly get used to it.

“Joel are you completely sober.” it was less of a question and more like a demand to know.

“Yes Y/N, swear.” Joel replied.

“So you won’t regret kissing me?”

“Will you regret letting me kiss you?”

Y/N shook his head no and Joel leaned in to kiss him. As he deepened the kiss, Joel pushed him back to lean against the counter top. His arm snaked around Y/N’s waist and he took a sharp breath in through his nose.

Y/N was the first to pull away, but he took one look at Joel’s lust filled face and went right back in for another kiss. This one felt different from the other, there was a hunger in it. Both men knew that this wouldn’t be a kiss that lead to nothing.

Joel pulled away first this time.

“You tell me now if you don’t want this to go any further.” He said, he could one hundred percent tell that Y/N wanted to go further but he just wanted to make sure.

“I want to Joel, please.” Y/N whispered.

Joel moved off of Y/N and let him lead the way to the couch.

Y/N sat down and took off his thermal shirt and Joel un-buckled his belt and pulled it off before sitting down next to Y/N.

“How do you want to do this?” Joel asked looking over at Y/N.

“Can I sit on your lap?”

Joel nodded slowly and smirked once again as Y/N threw his legs over his own thighs. Y/N put his hands on Joel’s shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss.

Almost immediately Joel’s tongue prodded ad Y/N’s lips, he turned his head to the side a little bit to get a better angle to be able to let Joel into his mouth.

After the kiss, both were left breathless.

“If you keep smirking like that I’ll explode.” Y/N said as he panted slightly. Joel chuckled in response. He said nothing as he shrugged Y/N’s hands off his shoulders and leaned forward. He put his arms on Y/N’s hips to hold him in place and went straight for his neck. He kissed lightly at the space where Y/N’s shoulder and neck met. Y/N gasped as Joel bit down, it wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it was hard enough to make Y/N buck his hips up towards Joel.

Between Joel’s mouth and the friction in Y/N’s jeans, he let out multiple small whines and pleas. Joel pulled off of Y/N and looked at his neck, admiring the red blotches and bite marks on it.

“Joel please do something!” Y/N begged, grinding his hips down onto Joel’s, feeling everything in the process. Joel groaned at the friction that he caused between them.

“Fuck.” is all he said in response.

Joel reached down to un-button Y/N’s jeans as fast as he could. When he got them undone, he pulled the band of his boxers down and let his dick spring free. he spit in his palm and finally gave Y/N what he wanted the most.

Y/N’s head flew back as he let out a groan, his eyes screwed shut and he furrowed his brows.

“Look at me, Y/N.” Joel demanded, stopping his hand right at Y/N’s base.

Y/N pulled his head back up and opened his eyes, “Joel, please. Please don’t stop.” he whined.

“I don’t want you cummin’ yet baby,” Joel took his hand off of Y/N, “I want you comin’ completely undone with me inside you.”

Y/N was speechless for the second time tonight.

Joel leaned in to whisper to him, “Get up and take off your pants.”

“I know you’ve got lube and condoms around here somewhere, go get ‘em.” Joel said.

Y/N nodded and Joel watched him turn away and almost sprint to his room. He got everything and went back into the living room and saw that Joel had rid himself of his tight jeans and was slowly stroking himself with his head leaned back. Y/N tossed the lube and condom onto the couch cushion and finally got a good look at Joel’s dick. He for sure thought he would start drooling if Joel didn’t snap his head up when he heard the items hit the couch.

Y/N got back into Joel’s lap and went in for another kiss, after they pulled apart, Joel grabbed the lube from the cushion beside them and opened it up one handed. He squeezed a little bit onto his fingers and rubbed them against his thumb to warm up the gel. He decided he wanted to start slow and reached around to prod at Y/N’s entrance, maintaining eye contact with Y/N the whole time.

“Joel please stop teasing me.” Y/N’s hands ended up on Joel’s shoulders again and he dug his nails into the skin there.

Joel fit his middle finger next to his index and started scissoring them to stretch Y/N out. He writhed as Joel kept his movements at a steady pace.

“Joel ‘m gonna cum.” Y/N said as white hot pleasure took over his body.

He came with a long stretched out moan and Joel pulled his fingers out.

“D’ya think you could give me one more babe?”

Y/N nodded and looked down to see Joel’s dick leaking pre-cum onto his stomach and reached to wrap his hand around it. and Joel hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re being so good for me.” He said as Y/N picked up his speed.

Y/N stopped his hand and reached over for the condom. He opened it and started to roll it out onto Joel. The condom itself was pre-lubricated and there was still lube on Y/N’s hole so after it was rolled all the way on, Y/N lifted himself to give Joel room to reposition himself.

Joel held his dick in place as Y/N sat himself on it. The both of them groaned as Joel bottomed out.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” Joel asked moving Y/N’s hair off of his sweaty forehead.

“Mhm.” he nodded.

“So ya know how to ride?”

“Yeah.” Y/N breathed out heavily.

He put his hands back on Joel’s shoulders and used his arms to help himself lift halfway off of Joel and pushed himself back down with a whine, he kept us this rhythm for a couple minutes before Joel took his hand down to wrap around Y/N and stroke him in the same rhythm as his bouncing.

Y/N was squeezing around Joel’s cock and his jaw dropped to make an ‘o’ face.

“‘S so good keep goin’ baby” Joel’s hand had moved to Y/N’s waist and his jaw had tightened.

He thought for a second before slamming Y/N down onto himself and fucking up into him.

Y/N let out a stream of curses and Joel’s grip only got harder as he relentlessly slammed into him. Y/N brought a hand to his dick and started stroking with Joel’s thrusts. He let out one final ‘fuck’ as he came into his fist.

Joel didn’t stop though, “I’m almost there baby, c’mon.”

He let out a grunt when Y/N started grinding down on his dick. Small chants of ‘ah’ left his mouth as the man on top of him kept going. As Joels thrusts got sloppier and his grip on Y/N’s waist got tighter, Y/N knew he was close.

Joel came into the condom mere seconds later, “Fuck Y/N.” He panted.

Y/N got up off of Joel with minimal struggle, both of them were sensitive and neither wanted to hurt the other, and Joel pulled off the condom, tying it off and going to the bathroom to throw it away.

“Do you want to stay the night? It would be rude of me to tell you to go home.” Y/N said, grabbing his pants and boxers to throw them in the dirty laundry bin.

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble, can I shower though?”

Y/N nodded and brought him to his bedroom to shower in the en suite. He got into his dresser and got out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for Joel to put on after he got out and laid it on the bathroom counter.

About ten minutes later, Joel left the bathroom in the pajamas Y/N had put out for him and saw that he was already in bed.

Joel got into the bed on the side that Y/N wasn’t on and got under the blanket. Just as he went to close his eyes, he remembered.

I have work tomorrow.

“I’ll call in sick.” he said to himself, seemingly forgetting he wasn’t alone.

“Hm?” Y/N asked, his voice filled with sleep.

“Nothin’,” Joel scooted closer to Y/N and closed his eyes “Goodnight.”

“Night Joel, thank you for staying.”

“‘Course.”

[sunnywrites101]

Why are you laughing?!

Pairing - Zoro x male reader

Genre - fluff, jealousy

Word count- 920

CW- nothing but fluff and a jealous zoro

I smiled as I sat on the railing of the Thousand Sunny with Nami and Robin lounging in their chairs on deck. I was secretly trying one of Sanji’s special drinks for the girls; being one of the many guys on the ship I didn’t get the special treatment like the girls got. But Robin didn’t mind sharing a few sips of her drink with me. After the first sip I went straight to the kitchen to beg Sanji to make me one, it was so fruity and refreshing I just had to have some. But Sanji’s glare fixed me at the door immediately “C’mon Sanji I just want a little drink!” I yelled running around the kitchen to escape the livid cook “Those are only for Nami and Robin!” he yelled as I shrieked with laughter running out of the kitchen as the door slammed shut behind me to keep me out.

I fell to the floor rolling on my sides as laughter consumed me. Luffy soon joined me in my laughter from the figure head of the Sunny, as we both calmed down I let out a soft groan as my ribs hurt from laughing so hard. Getting up I sat back with Nami and Robin conversing on random topics when Nami stopped mid-sentence and smiled knowingly while Robin gave a small chuckle.

I furrowed my brows in confusion, about to ask her to continue when a hand snaked around my waist and a scent I knew all to well filled my senses, light lavender and bergamot mixed with the heavy smell of leather and sandalwood accompanied by the strong scent of steel. There was only one man on the Thousand Sunny that smelt like that, Roronoa Zoro. I sighed leaning back into his chest, I picked up on his tense muscles and I held his hand that was around my waist. “Crows nest, five minutes” and with that he was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. After he had climbed back up to the crows nest Nami let out a laugh full and unashamed “looks like you’re in trouble~” she said in between laughs and giggles. Robin simply smirked “You should go see him, it sounded serious.”

I was puzzled and tilted my head in confusion, I was sure I hadn’t done anything to piss off the swordsman but alas he seemed upset with me for some reason. I knew I hadn’t forgotten any important dates, our anniversary wasn’t until another five months, and his birthday had already passed so what was I missing? I couldn’t help but wonder as I climbed the rope ladder to the crow’s nest.

Opening the door, I was met with the sight of Zoro training tirelessly with sweat dripping down his chest. I was compelled to stare but stopped myself as I pushed the door open to announce my presence to Zoro. Once he knew I was there he scoffed and put his weights down, he then went to sit down on the makeshift bed that I made out of spare blankets and pillows. Confused, I followed his movements by coming to sit beside him. I softly put my hand on his shoulder searching his face for any signs of what I could have done wrong.

After a moment he shrugs my hand off his shoulder, my eyes widened as a small panic began to set into my stomach. “Zoro what’s wrong?” He remained silent. My panic began to rise while Zoro was never really one to initiate physical touch, he never denied it either, which made this situation all the more confusing and stressful. “Zoro what’s gotten into you, you’re being so cold” he scoffed and turned to face me, anger written all over his features. “I’m being cold to you?” he asked incredulously “Yea? Well what’s going on between you and that damned cook recently? You two seem awfully damn close here recently.” I was shocked, Roronoa Zoro was…jealous? But he continued “If you’re going to leave me for that damn cook just get it over with already” At that I couldn’t help the small chuckle bubbling in my throat as I hit his chest weakly while laughing.

After a few hits he grabbed my wrists holding them away from his chest. “what’s so damn funny!?” I struggled to breathe smiling looking up at him “you’re jealous Zoro!” his eyes widened at that “I am not jealous. I’m just stating things the way I see them and what’s so funny?!” He said angrily. I smiled wiping tears from my eyes as my laughter died out “Roronoa Zoro, I am not going anywhere especially not with Sanji, the only reason I was in the kitchen was to get him to make me a fruit drink like he makes for Nami and Robin” I explained and for a moment I could see the gears turning in his head till he huffed and turned away grumbling.

I smiled, shaking my head then kissed the apple of his cheek. Before I could pull away, he pulled me into a sincere kiss full of emotion. I pulled away slightly after a while to breathe, still sharing breaths from the close proximity of our bodies. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions” he mumbled against my lips. I giggled “It’s ok, I still and always will love you, Zoro” he pulled me to rest my head on his chest as he laid down. We fell asleep soon after with the stars to watch over us.

[lanitalay]

One day : Chapter 6

Based on the Netflix series by the same name

a/n: I literally cried writing this. Ouchie. Im sorry for the angst, we'll get fluff soon enough. I'm actually working on a fluffy one shot rn. So expect that soon.

warnings: ansgt, drinking, swearing?,

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You sat next to Nesta at the bar. It was the first time in over fifty years that you had been on the boat for the Summer Solstice celebrations. That morning, you had done everything in your power to feel the excitement you usually do on this day but nothing worked. It did not help that you woke up on the floor, naked and next to a stranger. It also did not help that you’d be forced to see the two people you wanted to do nothing with. Most importantly, it didn’t help that the only way to keep the collective hangover from a months long bender at bay was to keep drinking. You were constantly nauseous and dizzy. Mind fuzzy so that no thought could stay long enough to hurt. 

“Want another?” Nesta asked you as she motioned for more liquor to be poured in her glass. You mumbled something that sounded like “yes” and then your own was full to the brim again. Had you eaten anything? 

“NestaImagogetsomefood” you informed her while tumbling out of your stool to find something. The world felt like it was tilted on an axis and you were trying with whatever coordination you had to stay upright. Until someone bumped into you and sent you falling backwards. 

You knew you hit your head pretty hard when you opened your eyes and saw double of everything. The male that had knocked you down was standing over you trying to get a response. “Imfinejusthelpmeup” he didn’t seem sure of what you were asking of him until you stretched out your hand and he grabbed it, hoisting you to your feet.  You clung to his chest because everything was spinning and nothing could ground you. “Ineedfood, takemetothefood.” 

You couldn’t see him, but the male who held you was absolutely terrified as a giant winged Ilyrian stalked towards you with a look that promised violence. “Don’t touch her” you felt more hands steady you then strong arms scoop you up and carry you somewhere else. 

“Hey stay with me, y/n, we’ll get you something to eat” you knew that voice, you knew his scent and you knew the “we” he was talking about. “PutmedownAzriel.” 

“You can’t stand straight.”

A few moments later you were on a plush couch on the first deck of the boat, barely anybody was down here, the party in full swing upstairs. “Here” Azriel gave you some buttered bread and water. Until you saw the clear liquid you had no idea how thirsty you were, chugging it down in one go. Which was a mistake, because next thing you know you are running towards the railings and spilling your guts into the Sidra. Azriel was holding back your hair and rubbing circles on your back. “It’s ok, I’ve got you” he said until you finished.

“Stop it” you said after a while, shrugging off his hand. “Y/n-”

“No, you can go now, I’m fine.”

“You’re not, it’s ok let me help-” 

“I don’t want your help.” 

“Let’s just go sit down-” 

He didn’t get it. To this day he does not understand. “Just leave me alone, I mean it, I'm fine.” Your head was resting on your folded arms against the railing. It was a way to find stillness and hide your tears. 

“I found some napkins that maybe-” Azriel took the napkins from Elain and dabbed away the cold sweat that gathered at the base of your neck. It was so tender, so gentle that you bit your lip to keep from screaming. 

“There she is.” You sighed as you heard Nesta’s voice. “I’ve got this, you two can go now.” Without looking up you knew she was staring down Azriel and sagged a little when his footsteps drifted away. “Come on, y/n.” She wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you sit on one of the couches. Head rested on her shoulder like you’d done a million times in the last year. “Amren called me pathetic.” 

“I think I vomited on a turtle.” 

“Safe to say we’ve seen better days.” She nudged you slightly and you chuckled. Better days certainly were behind you. 

After you ate the bread and could stand on your own you returned to the bar and drank the night away.

Mornings were always similar, you woke up in a state of undress. Sometimes alone, sometimes with someone else. Then you took a cold bath, the sticky residue of sweat and sex clinging to your skin from the night before. After that you would go to the cafe on your street and get a pastry and then eat it in your apartment with a cup of tea. 

It was the best part of your day, before memories you kept buried deep began to flash in your mind. Before the regret of what you had become bubbled to the surface. Before you really looked in the mirror and saw just how bad it had gotten. 

The morning after solstice you woke up with a male named Jax. You knew him well enough. He owned the club you and Nesta frequented and he had become a regular night time companion. “Wake up”, you poked him. 

“Good morning to you too” he rolls over and places open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. “You have go.”

“Let me make you pancakes” he says and bites your earlobe. “No thanks, I have plans to meet someone for breakfast.” 

He sighs and stops his ministrations, then gets off the bed and while he dresses asks “are you ever going to let me take you out properly?”

“Probably not,” you answer and walk towards the bathroom. 

You hear Jax finish dressing “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye!” You yell and dunk your head under the freezing water, washing away the night before. 

“Y/n there's someone here saying they know you” you roll your eyes, wanting him to leave already. “Who?”

“Its me Y/n.” You nearly choke when you heard Azriel’s voice boom through your apartment. Quickly you get out of the bath, put on a robe and go into the living room where Jax and Azriel are sizing each other up. “I know him, Jax, it's ok.” He gave you a look and you motioned for him to leave with your hands then closed the door as he finally left. 

“He seems... nice.” 

“What do you want, Azriel?” You asked, still standing by the door with your arms crossed at your chest. “I always bring you flowers on our anniversary” you noticed a brown bag and a delicate bouquet in his hands just then. “Oh.”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” 

“Can we sit down for this?”

You rolled your eyes “is it going to take a while? I have somewhere to be.”

“I brought you breakfast.” You sigh and grab the brown bag from his hands “you can talk while I make tea.” 

“How are you?” He asked while scanning your apartment. There was a wet trail from where you walked, clothes strewn about the whole place, a broken frame hanging from the wall and the curtains you typically kept open to allow for sunshine were closed shut. 

“We can skip pleasantries. What do you want?” You were focused on your tea, pouring water into the kettle and waiting for it to boil. “I wanted to check on you. We haven’t spoken in months and yesterday you looked… like you were having a rough time.”

“I’m fine, just drank too much.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Y/n.”

You say nothing as you look for the leaves to make your favorite tea.

“Y/n.”

“What?”

“Let me help you, please I can’t stand to see you like this” 

You look at him now, curious to see what he’ll say next “like what?” 

“You’re drunk everyday, you come home with someone new every night, you stopped working with Madja. I know the war was difficult for you but this isn’t healthy”. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes I do. I’ve known you for the better part of a century and something changed for you after the war. You never really came back and I’ve given you space and time but- I can help you. Please, just let me help.” 

“I want you to go, Azriel.” You make to walk to the door but he steps in your way and places two gentle hands just below your shoulders. “Just talk to me-” You step back and push him away from you. 

“You almost died for her! I broke down in front of you and begged you not to die because I can’t survive it and you went into the middle of Hybern’s camp with only Feyre to save her! Then you come back mutilated and I fix you up again and you’re asking why I’m not the same? You go off, you play the hero and then expect me to still be here and I can’t-”

His mouth is slightly agape as he watches you break. 

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing you dead. Your blood has coated me from head to toe and I still feel it. If I’m not careful, I see it over and over and it never stops and then you look at me like everything is fine and it’s not. So I drink and I fuck and I get by as best I can and you don’t get to have a say. Leave” you’re holding the door open for him, fighting against the tears in your eyes. He looks like you just stabbed him. 

“Y/n-” you curse loudly and slam the door. Then walk into your room and change into the first thing you find “Y/n-” he’s pleading and you feel it pull at your heartstrings. “Stay, leave, I don’t care.” You’re out the door.

“I know it's rotten of me, Nes” you were lying on her mattress while she braided her hair.

“It isn’t.”

“It feels rotten.”

“You are entitled to your anger and hurt. Deal with what you’re feeling however you want, I’ll be here to clean you up if things get messy.” 

Your friendship with the oldest Archeron had bloomed unexpectedly after the war. After everything that happened everyone went back to business as usual, except you two.

She had seen Cassian be practically gutted, draped herself over him and was prepared to die. While you were elbow deep in Azriel’s torso trying to get the last piece of ash arrow out. You never spoke of it, the bond of shared trauma. Of insurmountable anger. 

How your souls were crumbling and the only thing keeping you alive was each other. She would clean you up, you would break her fall. 

Standing from the bed you walk to her and hug her tight, tears pouring down your cheeks “I love you Nesta, I love you so much.” She hugged you back without saying a word but from the way her heart beat stuttered you knew she felt the same. 

[rowdyhughesy]

Hiding your relationship with Luke when you’ve been friends forever and Ellen finds out (like let’s say around wjc time) as well as everyone else and they’re just like finally ??

World juniors ✰ Luke Hughes

“ We know each other from the time when we were kids, and it took me so long to admit that I want to spend my whole life with you. “

- anon

It didn’t start like those big love stories you read about. They weren’t best friends since diapers, with the whole will they? Won’t they? Thing. They hadn’t known since they were kids that they would fall in love, maybe get married and have kids. None of them woke up one day and just realised that they had feelings for the other. It was gradual, they had been in the same friend group since middle school. Always hanging out with the rest of their friends, close but not that close.

Then college came and they had both committed to Michigan, the group splitting up during the summer. Everyone moving to new places and dorm rooms until they were the only two left. It became a safety for them knowing that they at least had each other. That someone was still there.

Sitting next to each other in class became study dates, who then turned into coffee dates that turned into hanging out on the weekends, going to every hockey game at yost, sleeping in the same bed, joining his FaceTime calls with his parents and after almost a year of constantly hanging out Luke asked her out. It was a yes without any hesitation.

They hadn’t audibly said that they were going to keep their relationship a secret, it just happened. No one asked so they just didn’t say anything. For those who knew them nothing had changed. They did everything they had done before, just that now it included kissing and other things in the comfort of their dorm rooms.

Ellen Weinberg-Hughes was over the moon when Luke first started hanging out with Y/N without everyone else. She knew her son and she knew that he had a crush on her when he didn’t even know about it himself. It was the way he smiled when she said something, the way he talked about what they’d done the day before when she called him. Her mothers instinct telling her that they would happen. She truly hoped that Luke would get the girl.

She just didn’t know that it had already happened.

When Luke was picked out to join team USA for world juniors, Y/N had never been more proud. Her boyfriend, her Luke. Was going to play in WJC. Then he got the C and she cried her eyes out on FaceTime as he told her. She knew he was an amazing hockey player, an amazing person and it made her happy that everyone else could see it too.

So sitting there in the stands with Jim and Ellen the girl was buzzing with excitement and a little bit of anxiety. Luke had been so busy with preparing for the tournament and practice that she had barely had any chance to talk to him, but she was here. Decked out in a USA sweatshirt that Luke gave her before he left and a umich hat to show the other Michigan boys that she supported them.

“I’m starting to believe you’re more nervous than Luke about this game.” The voice of Jim snaps the girl out of her anxiety induced staring. Turning her head towards him she masters up a nervous smile. “I just want it to be a good game for him ya know? This is such a big moment and I don’t want him to be disappointed in himself afterwards.” Ellen stays silent, taking in the nervous fumbling of Y/N’s hands, the wide eyes and how she’s bouncing her leg up and down. She really cares about him she thinks. “If it doesn’t go well we’ll be there for him. All of us, he knows he’s not alone.“ Ellen wraps one arm around her shoulders giving her a side hug.

The game ends with a win for the US, Y/N is certain she almost screamed the loudest out of the whole building when the final buzzer sounded. She wanted to cry but forced the tears back as she hugged the Hughes parents.

As they’re walking to the dressing rooms she has to talk herself down from running, excited to congratulate her boy on their first win. Instead she settles for speed walking. A big smile on her lips that make her cheeks ache but she doesn’t care because she’s just so damn happy.

When she sees Luke standing at the end of the hall talking with Duker and Rutger, still dressed in his hockey gear all rational thoughts in her brain disappears. Taking off running Luke sees the motion in the corner of his eye, turning his body towards her. Arms spread out waiting.

She doesn’t care that he’s sweaty and probably smells as she wraps her arms and legs around his body, hugging him tightly. Luke stumbles back from the impact but doesn’t hesitate as he places one arm under her butt and the other around her waist to steady her in his grip. “You were great out there, I’m so proud of you baby.” She whispers in his ear making goosebumps rise on his skin. “Thank you for being here. I needed it I was so nervous.”

Y/N lifts her head from its spot against Luke’s neck. Forgetting all about the fact that his parents and the others are in the same vicinity of the couple. The outside world just fade away when she’s with him. Leaning forward she presses a long kiss on his lips, tears starting to stream down her face from how proud and happy she is.

It’s not until someone clears their throat that the two pull away. Four sets of eyes are staring at them. Dylan and Rutger both standing there with dropped jaws, Jim is just shifting his eyes between his son and the girl in his arms while Ellen looks at them with a big smile.

Luke places his girlfriend back on her feet, both of them wearing matching blushing red faces and guilty expressions. Before they can react the two hockey players starts spitting questions at them about how,when,where,what. But they fall silent as Ellen coughs, the four kids shifting their attention to her. “We can pester them with questions later. I just wanna say that I’m happy you got the girl Luke, she’s perfect for you.”

Luke looks down at his girlfriend with an adoring smile. She’s everything he could ever want and he can’t help but think that yeah he would gladly spend the rest of his life with her by his side if she let him.

“Thanks mom and yeah she’s absolutely perfect.”

[woo-wahhhh]

[ the things i do for you–; let’s just say missing out on the limited edition tcg card of your boyfriend is a bit... devastating ]

“you’re crying.”

“no, i’m sniffling. my nose is clogged,”

“because you’re crying,”

“no, i’m sniffling because my nose is clogged. i said so,”

“no, you’re sniffling because your nose is clogged because you’re crying because you couldn’t get the limited edition tcg card... of me?” alhaitham’s voice had an edge of... well, in order to not sugarcoat it, judgement. he couldn’t fathom why a silly little illustrated piece of cardstock of him of all people was something to cry over.

on the other hand, kaveh, who was having the absolute time of his life over his roommates confused stupor, patted your back from across the tavern table in attempt to comfort you. 

“it’s alright!” he exclaimed boisterously as he handed you a hankerchief. it was your second, actually, since you’d ruined the first one alhaitham had given you before. “there’s better cards to get! besides, uh, do you really want to build a deck around... well, him?”

“says the guy who doesn’t even have a card made after him,” alhaitham shot back, only to garner a dramatic gasp for kaveh.

“i– listen here, you! up until today, you didn’t have a card either, so how are you better than me?!” he jabbed an accusatory finger at alhaitham, who barely flinched from beside you. 

“firstly, i never said i was better than you, though that is quite the astute observation on your part. i’m glad to see you’re growing your self awareness. and secondly, i am better than you in terms of the current subject because i do in fact have a card. you can try to argue, but your lack of cards sharing your likeness is simply irrefutable.”

the scarlet rage on kaveh’s face matched his red cape, and he slammed his fists down on the table. “you know what? i give up with you! good luck to you–,” he said to you, with considerably less ire, “– and good riddance to you!” he snapped at alhaitham. 

you watched as kaveh marched out through wet eyelashes. usually, you’d laugh a bit at their bickering, but the fact you couldn’t get ahold of the alhaitham tcg card did make you sad. it was a bit childish, but with a glass of wine warming up your throat, maybe you were a bit extra emotional. 

“... does the card matter that much?” alhaitham asked, ignoring kaveh’s departure completely. there was an uncharacteristic awkwardness in his voice, not because he was mocking you, but because of his genuine lack of understanding of your sorrow. “i’m right here.”

“yeah but like it’s cool.  i mean you’re cool too. but like, there’s only 10 of the cards, and only 5 of them have the holographic and gold detailing and it’s just so pretty...”

idly, he wondered if should be offended that you simply regarded him as cool as a holographic piece of cardstock.  

“but it’s simply a card. i’m sure it doesn’t have very good combat– er, tcg– prowess anyways.” even he flinched lightly when you dropped your forehead against the wooden table. one of the waiters looked over at you two with concern, but alhaitham simply shook his head. 

“yeah, but its a card of you! ugh, how do i say this in a way that makes sense?” you cried, making grabbing motions with your outstretched hands, despite not raising your head. he wordlessly passed you a glass of water. you didn’t drink it, but you lifted your head and pressed the cool surface against your forehead. 

“it’s priceless because it’s you. and you’re really cool, you know! cool enough to get a limited run of tcg cards made of you even though no one in this country knows jack shit about you! and it’s just lame that of all the people to not have the coolest card of you is me. and think about it! we don’t even have a kamera, so i don’t even have a picture of you.”

“you could get a portrait done,” he said pointedly, but you snorted.

“look me in the eyes, ‘haitham, that you’d pay money and sit down for someone to paint a portrait of you,”

he didn’t reply for a moment, humming quietly under his breath. at first glance, you would’ve assumed he was agreeing with you, but the careful glint in his eyes was that of careful consideration. 

“... if you’d like, we can do that.”

“huh?”

“did i stutter?” ah, there’s the signature bite. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “you wanted a painting, didn’t you? we can get one done.” as he spoke, he was looking into your eyes, unwavering confidence in the emerald and rust. “and let’s make a deal, shall we? if you stop crying, and take care of the hassle of locating a genuine copy of the card, i’ll foot the cost and get it for you. how’s that sound?”

you looked like fish with how your mouth hung wide open, eyes widened with an unbridled kind of shock. alhaitham, decidedly, liked that look a lot. he much preferred it over your crying face and drunken stupor. he especially liked that you broke into an elated grin, all but throwing yourself at him. 

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” his face remained passive, calmly sipping his wine though his arm did snake around your waist so you didn’t fall out of your chair, even though he knew your embrace around his shoulders would probably provide enough stability. “don’t worry, i’ll do my best to look for one!”

“good,” alhaitham had a smug sort of smile playing on his lips as he finished off the last of his wine, before gently prying your hands away from him with an uncharacteristic sort of tenderness though he did keep ahold of your wrist as he stood up. “boss, put the bill on my tab if you would– not kaveh’s though. he only had a glass, i’m sure he can pay it off.”

he pulled you up, making sure you didn’t fall as you waved and he nodded at the owner, walking swiftly away. you giggled to yourself, knowing he’d been planning to leave for a while– alhaitham preferred a strict schedule after all, and he was a determined man who wanted to get his 8 hours in before work. 

“what?” he asked you, eyebrow arching up as you weaved through the streets, hand in hand. it seemed like you were staying at his home that night.

“no, i’m just wondering if you even knew where to find a painter who’d agree to sit down with you,” you chirped, laughing until you caught the smirk on his face. you peered at him curiously.

“oh, i don’t need to find one. what good is living with an artistic freeloader if not to get his services in exchange for shirking off a month’s rent?”

[heliads]

going down with the ship - britcedes

There are two people left on a sinking ship. One is Lewis. The other is George.

masterlist

There are two people left on a sinking ship. Well, more than two. There are, of course, dozens trapped in holds and cabins, held back by wreckage or condemned to flooding chambers. But there are two people who have a chance at getting out. One is Lewis. The other is George.

Lewis has found a door and a paddle, and will use his own strength to carry him away. George is sitting on the highest point of the slowly sinking ship, a polished, curved section of the balcony of one of the nicer decks, the one where the heirs and heiresses used to promenade when the sun was out and they were not sinking. At one point, when the ship had already rolled and pitched until the bow was looming considerably far out of the water, he had been the tallest one around for kilometers. 

Now, the boat has slowly, lethargically sunk, and George is hardly a few lengths from the water’s surface. It creeps towards him constantly, dark and cold, swallowing every bit of light it touches like the keening maw of an animal. Lewis floats just within arm’s reach, asking him to leave with the soft and smooth tone typically directed towards those in risk of going mad. His door is disconcertingly red, either from blood or a bad paint job. It looks garish against the dark water. George turns away from it instinctively. In a situation like this, one must always maintain their dignity.

George focuses on the lapping of the water against the pristinely painted hull, letting it drown out the sounds of Lewis’ faint pleas. He will have to go at some point, perhaps. Or maybe he could stay here. Stand resolute on the shining wood until the water takes him. It would make a beautiful sight.

“We can still make it out,” Lewis says. 

He’s starting to lose the calm lilt to his words as the dark water creeps increasingly closer to the worn shoes of George’s feet. He had been a cabin boy in another life, George, or maybe just the life that had existed a few hours ago, before the grand and glorious ship struck an iceberg, before the immaculate hull was pierced, before the masterpiece of engineering design became no better than a stone in the largest puddle it could hope to see. Before the end, George had run around from first class cabin to first class cabin, refilling drinks, bowing and scraping, and wearing his uniform with pride. Always better to be the lowest of the high than the highest of the low, George’s father had told him once. And he’d done it better than anyone else on board.

“The captain goes down with the ship,” George tells him obstinately. He can’t help but puff out his chest a little as he says it. There is a certain heroism that comes with self-sacrifice. If George were a hunting dog with its paw caught in the trap, he would not gnaw off his leg to escape. He would sit there, brave and proud, until his owner found him; until they let him go; until they patted his matted chest and told him that he had been the very best.

Lewis sighs, but does it tenderly. “You’re not the captain.”

George’s eyes cut to him. They’ve gone red with the cold. “I’m the best they’ve got, anyways,” he says haughtily.

Lewis sighs again. It is less tender and more frustrated this time. “There’s no one left to rescue. This isn’t your job, George. You’re supposed to save yourself first.”

George looks darkly at Lewis’ makeshift raft. “Is that what you did?” He asks tauntingly.

“Yes,” Lewis answers him simply, “It is.”

George scoffs. “You should have seen if there were other people who needed help first.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing right now,” Lewis says. “Seeing if people need help.”

George turns his head away, fixing his eyes on the moon and widening them until the light spills like milk onto his upturned face. Twin pools of white in a chalky complexion. It’s like he’s dead already. “I don’t need help.”

“That’s what the rest of them said,” Lewis replies with chagrin.

George’s head snaps back to him, the corpse no longer dead yet. “So I wasn’t your first choice? What if your raft had filled up already? Would you have let me drown?”

“I thought the captain went down with the ship,” Lewis snaps, then closes his eyes briefly, remembering patience, and replies a bit more forcefully than he’d planned, “You can argue about that with me once you’re off the ship. Come on now, we don’t have much time.”

He’s right. George can feel the cold water biting into the holes in his shoes. He hates it; the captain wouldn’t have gaps like broken teeth in his fine Oxfords, it would disrespect the uniform, the position. Yet the frigid soon-to-be ice pools around his toes, biting against the threadbare socks, slipping through all the places he’s had to darn the fading fabric when it tore again, again, again.

“It’s not proper to leave like this,” he says remarkably calmly. “It’s like quitting.”

Lewis practically reels backwards in his attempt to keep his cool. He manages to stave off laughter, but indignation comes quick on its heels, and that he cannot avoid. “Quitting,” he spits out. “The ship is sinking. It has already sunk. There’s nothing left, George. For either of us.”

George goes silent again. Moody. Was he always like this, or just now, faced with the reality of Lewis’ abandonment?

Lewis extends his hand one last time. “George, please. Save yourself.”

He has to go soon, or he’ll be pulled under too, dragged down by that awful current. Lewis can already feel it tugging impatiently at his makeshift raft. All things go, and will go down into those freezing depths if he does not start moving right now.

George is glancing away again, peering closely at the ship below him in the shadowy waves. “I think I see the captain in one of the windows. I need to get to him.”

Lewis laughs bitterly. Sadness drenches the sound. “I thought you were the captain, George. There can only be one.”

George doesn’t look back. He’s busy staring at a waving shade in a broken window far beneath the surface that might be the captain, or might be nothing at all. A trick of the light. They are all alone here. When he glances back up, Lewis is gone. He thinks he might hear the splash of an oar in the distance, or maybe that’s the water around his waist.

He shouts in anger, in rage. This betrayal will never be forgotten, and when George gets himself out, Lewis will be sorry he ever thought about leaving George like this. Weren’t they friends? George is going to swim away, far away. He’s strong and he’s fast and he will cut through the black water like a knife. 

He just has to go back for the captain first, but the captain is far below him. And getting closer. Closer than Lewis. Closer than the obsidian sea closing over his head.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[skzimagines]

Part 10

Characters: Hyunjin x Female reader

Genre: Obsessive!Hyunjin

Warnings: Smut | Swearing | alcohol | dominant sexual behavior |

Summary: Things go completely sideways when Hyunjin finds out Chan has a little crush on y/n. Until Minho swoops in to take care of her after her world crumbles around her.

—————————————————————————————

“Who has a crush on her?” Hyunjin asks from the door way. “Oh shit.” Ash whispers to herself. “N-no one baby. Felix was just joking around.” I say with a chuckle. Hyunjin drops his bags and makes his way over to us. “You’re lying.” He states. “No, no hyunjin she’s not, we were all just joking around. No one has a crush on her.” Ash laughs, not a very promising laugh, a laugh that completely gives us away. Telling hyunjin we can’t lie for shit. “Hyunjin, come talk to me for a second.” Felix says, grabbing Hyunjins sleeve, pulling him outside onto the deck.

“Who has a crush on her Felix?” Hyunjin asks. “I’m going to tell you, but you can not lose it okay?” Felix says, resting his hands on Hyunjins shoulders. Hyunjin hums in response. Felix sighs before he just comes right out and tells him. “Chan..”

Hyunjin pushes Felix’s hands away, quickly turning to walk back inside. “Hyunjin, don’t do it!” I heard Felix yell, as soon as Hyunjins walks in through the door. Immediately understanding what Hyunjins going to do, I run after him and grab his arm, trying to pull him back. “Jinnie… please, please come here.” I beg, still trying to stop him. “You can’t just go running around beating up all of your friends hyunjin!” I yell. He finally stops. He turns around to face me. “You knew he had a crush on you, you knew it.” He whispers. I look at him confused. “What? No I didn’t!” I say. “That’s why you didnt want to leave with me, that’s why you had no issue sharing a room with someone else.” He says. Tears well up in my eyes. I see Minho and Jisung walk in from behind hyunjin. “You fucking knew! That’s why you never gave a shit!” Hyunjin yells, pointing his finger in my face. “Alright, that’s enough.” Minho yells, walking up behind hyunjin and grabbing his arm. He pushes him away from me, telling him to go outside. “We’re done y/n. You understand? Done.” He says, looking into my eyes. Before storming off outside.

The door slams shut behind him and I collapse to the ground, holding my face in my hands as I weep. Minho sits down in front of me and pulls me into him, rubbing the back of my head with his hand. “Why does he act like this..” I whisper into his chest. Minho leans his head down to get closer to my ear. “I wish I knew y/n. But maybe it’s for the best. You don’t deserve it.” He whispers back. “Let’s go in the room, okay?” He says sweetly, before standing up and wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me up to our room.

“It’s for the best..” jisung whispers to Ash, who is standing there absolutely taken aback by everything that just unfolded in front of her and Felix. “She didn’t do anything..” Felix says to jisung. Jisung nods. “I know.” They all sigh and go about to the things they were doing before, trying to take their minds off of it.

•

Minho and I make it to our shares room. “Here, just lay here for a while. Try to calm down, I’ll come check on you in a little bit.” He whispers. Waiting for me to lay down in bed, before he takes my blanket and covers me with it. “Do you need anything before I go?” He asks, brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “No..” I whisper. He hums, stands up and makes his way towards the door. “Minho…” he stops, turning around to look at me. “I’m sorry for everything that happened while camping.” I whisper. “It’s not your fault y/n.. just get some rest okay? I’ll be back in a little bit.” He says, with a small smile before leaving the room.

•

Minho makes his way down stairs. He sits at the bar with Ash, while jisung’s making drinks for everyone. “How is she?” Ash asks. “As good as she can get at the moment.” Minho sighs. Taking one of the shots off of the tray jisung just put together, throwing it back and wincing at the taste, slamming the cup onto the counter. “Don’t let hyunjin know you like her.” Ash chuckles. “What?” Minho says, looking at her with wide eyes. “I’m not stupid Minho.” She laughs. Minho looks at jisung, who’s already looking at him with a smirk. “Don’t look at me buddy, you’re the one that’s in looovvvee with her.” Jisung smirks. Minho rolls his eyes, reaching for another shot. Jisung smacks his hand away. “Get away! Wait until later!” Jisung wines. Picking up the tray and putting them in the fridge.

“Maybe now that hyunjin broke up with her, you’ll be able to shoot your shot?” Jisung says, wiggling his eyebrows up and down at Minho. “She doesn’t like me like that.” Minho says, spinning his finger around the rim of his shot glass. “She had a crush on you before she started to get to know hyunjin.” Ash says, taking a sip of her beer before standing up, giving him a smirk and walking away. Minhos face lights up at her words, a smile spreading across his face.

—————————————————————————————

To be continued…

Tag list: @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan

[wardenparker]

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 6

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world where his ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨💖Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila. 💖✨

Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+ Word Count: 15.6k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this series include: divorce, break ups, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption.** Gal pal gossip, tough conversations, a little bit of dirty flirting, and more of Patrick Jane being Patrick Jane. Marcus’s romance barometer is dialed up *high* and we love to see it. Summary: Brunch with the girls, Marcus and Teresa have a heart-to-heart of sorts, and Jane still somehow manages to make himself a nuisance. But it’s your second first date with Marcus, so you’re determined to make it a good one. Notes: I am not gonna lie to y’all...a lot of working on this chapter was just swooning over the restaurant’s menu. I need to get my ass to L’Ardente in DC stat!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

“There she is!” Is the cry from your friends when they finally spot you across the rooftop of the restaurant where you have done Sunday brunch trivia every week for the last year. There are already mimosas and you can see a plate of cinnamon rolls out on the table which makes you grin.

“Sorry I’m a couple of minutes late.” You’re barely sorry, considering the reason you’re late is Marcus wanted to go for a second round in the shower this morning, but you’ll at least feign an apology.

“Mmmmmhhhmmmm.” There is definitely a devilish grin to your oldest friends’ faces as they pointedly examine you up and down. “That is the look of a woman who isn’t sorry one bit because she was too busy getting dick.” Angela cackles.

“Spill!” Jacqui insists, looking at you with bright eyes. Her own marriage is settled, and very happy, but the giggly giddiness of a new infatuation is so much fun to experience with a friend. “Did you finally hook up with that hot curator from Air and Space?”

“Um…” Sitting down between Silvia and Angela, you glance at your young coworker, only to be relieved when she offers you an encouraging if awkward smile. “Actually?” You have to brace yourself. Angie is going to lose her mind when she finds out. “It’s somebody I used to know. And…didn’t think I would ever see again…”

“Do not tell me that you’ve picked up that clown you told us about in France!” Angela had been upset when you left Marcus but she was your friend and supported you through that time with phone calls, international at times. She hadn’t approved of Henri. “What would he be doing here?”

“I—it’s not Henri.” You shake your head and immediately pick up your menu as though you don’t have the bar’s offerings memorized. As though you aren’t craving their amazing eggs cochon. “It’s…well…my ex.” Silvia only knows who your ex-husband is now because of what’s happened, but you don’t think you have ever actually said his name to Jacqui. Until now, it still hurt too much.

“Marcus!” Angie gasps, aware that you have never called any other man your ex. “You were in bed with your ex-husband?” Her grey eyes blow wide in shock, matching the way her jaw hits the table.

“Surprise?” Your laugh is awkward, embarrassed even though no one here knows about what happened with Silvia but you and her. “He lives in DC now…”

“How in the hell did you run into your ex-husband in D.C.?” Angela demands, her face lighting up in overwhelming happiness. She knew that Marcus was the one for you, even if you had been too stubborn to see it.

“Wait— ex-husband?” Jacqui wrinkles her nose in confusion. “This is a good thing?”

“He stopped by the office the other night. Some kind of case.” Silvia blurts out, seeing the restraint in your happiness written all over your face. She doesn’t want to make more drama by telling everybody that she was the reason you saw him again, but she wants you to be happy if that’s how you actually feel. “Does this mean…are you guys back together?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, reaching over and squeezing Silvia’s hand. “I think so? I hope so.” It’s obvious from the way that you light up at the thought that it’s what you truly want, and your young friend smiles encouragingly before you look back at Jacqui. “It was college. We were just kids and I…I got scared. He’s in the FBI now. Director of his department and everything.”

“So…nothing bad happened?” She asks, still cautious because obviously you don’t divorce someone over nothing.

“Oh no, Marcus worshipped the ground she walked on.” Angela huffs, shaking her head fondly. “Sappy. And it was the relationship to aspire to. I broke up with three different guys because they didn’t treat me half as well.”

“It was my fault,” you tell Jacqui honestly. “Marcus didn’t do anything wrong, I just…we were so young and when he started talking about houses and kids and school districts and 401ks, I just panicked. So like I said…it’s Marc that’s giving me the second chance.” You knew Angie would be excited. She had always thought Marcus was amazing and was legitimately mad at you for a long time after you asked for the divorce. You’re not above beyond admitting she was right. “We’re just…taking things slow right now.”

“Oh my god, sleeping together is slow?” Angela snorts and shakes her head before looking at Jacqui and Silvia. “Although that tracks for them. They slept together the first night they met and were inseparable for the longest time.” She reaches over and takes your hand. “Are you still getting noise complaints? Tell me he didn’t peak in college sexually.”

Your cheeks are burning as you studiously avoid looking at Silvia, but you couldn’t hold your grin in even if you tried. “Definitely did not peak in college.” That’s for goddamn sure. He’s got new tricks and everything. “And uh…I don’t know what the people in my building will think, but he has a nice house and everything so…maybe I should make his neighbors cheesecakes or something as an apology in advance.”

“Damn.” A low whistle comes out of your oldest friend, along with a sly grin. “In college, they were encouraged to not have sleepovers at the frat and sorority houses.” She explains. “Everyone would hear.”

“Everyone was very encouraging when we decided to move off campus.” There’s been so much reminiscing lately, and aside from the guilt it makes you practically giddy to be able to think of the happy times again. You’ll make it up to him. You know you will. You have to.

“You have to tell us how you ended up in bed together again.” She demands, eager for details.

“It wasn’t super dramatic or anything.” You demure as best you can, pausing when you feel your phone go off in your pocket. Expecting a text from Marcus, you instead see Silvia’s name splashed across your screen.

Silvia: It’s okay to be excited <3 We’re okay.

The unexpected sentiment really just shows how mature she is, and you’ll have to make sure that you and she have some time to talk it out on your own, without other friends or coworkers around, but right now you just send back a barrage of hearts as a return message and feel the internal sigh of relief as warmth and giddiness floods your chest. The smile spreading across your face is instant. “We actually…after the thing at the office…we ran into each other on Friday night. I guess neither of us wanted to spend our night at home alone so we both had the idea to go out…and ended up at the same bar.” It feels like a fairy tale, allowing yourself to get excited has you nearly vibrate in your chair. “We had dinner together. And then…I invited him back to my place. I honestly had no clue he’d end up staying over.”

“This is…I still can’t believe that Marcus is here. And you two are rekindling your romance.” Angela sighs wistfully. “It gives me hope that soulmates exist.” She grins at you. “Really hot soulmates that make your legs shake, right?” Her grin grows just a smidgeon. “Like mine.”

"You can't believe it? Imagine how shocked I was." Interrupted momentarily by your table's waiter, you add your order to everyone else's and sit back in your chair after the young man walks away. "It's...surreal. But...kind of wonderful."

The girls all murmur their own agreements, Angela nodding. “I imagine so. Have you two talked?” She asks seriously, sliding her own mimosa over towards you to have some since another round is on its way.

“About what happened?” You nod, grateful to have even a watered-down mimosa when the guilt hits. Someday, you hope, you’ll stop feeling these waves of horrible regret. But that day is not today. “Yeah. We’re talking through things. And we’re, um…we’re going on our first actual date tonight. Dressed up, out on the town, the whole nine yards. I don’t know where yet, but you know Marc. It will be memorable.”

She’s nodding, glancing over at the other two women. “He’s a great guy.” She promises them before she looks back at you. “Honey, I know you. I know you feel guilty, but he’s a big boy.” She reaches over and covers your hand with hers. “If he wants to give you another chance, don’t second guess it. Dive in and enjoy.���

“I’m trying.” She’s your oldest friend - having stuck around through the bullshit and long distance and telling you to your face when she thought you were making a mistake - and you know if Angela thought that pursuing this was a bad idea she would say so. But she’s encouraging and excited for you, so you nod your head and finish the rest of the mimosa she handed you, and try to smile. “I’m not gonna fuck this up twice. I love him too much for that.”

“You always have.” She reminds you, smirking slightly. “Henri had nothing on Marcus and neither did any of those other idiots.” She scoffs. “It’s been obvious that he’s never forgotten you. Just look at the song.”

“Okay.” You huff and puff, looking at her in wonder. “Did everybody know about the song but me?” Jacqui and Silvia both look on in confusion, exchanging bewildered glances before Jacqui also looks to Angela for an answer. “What song?”

Angela snorts, “Of course. Danny - you know, Dan Stevens, he’s the one who arranged to have the song looked at.” She explains to you before she looks over at Jacqui and Silvia. “Do you know that country duo, Dan + Shay?” She asks, making Jacqui frown slightly but Silvia nods. “I do.” She tells Angela. “Well, the song ‘Tequila’ is about our girl right here.” She states proudly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jacqui’s jaw drops, her face drawn in surprise and awe as her attention swings back to you. “It is not?!”

“Wait that’s the song?” You’ve heard it before - it’s on the regular rotation at the coffee shop you frequent, of all places. One of the baristas always seemed to be playing country. It had always twisted your gut with memories before, but now? Now you’re on the verge of tears. “Marcus said he wrote a song but…he didn’t tell me it was that song.”

“Yeah….” Angela bites her lip, giving you a soft smile. “Danny saw it and knew it could be a hit. It summed up his relationship with you perfectly.”

“So Marcus is the reason we never get a pitcher of margaritas when we go out?” Jacqui smirks at you. They’re her favourite drink, so she always just orders for herself even though the other two women love them also. “I’m gonna have to have a little chat with this man.”

You can’t help but laugh, pulling out your phone in your lap again to send off a text after you shake your head at your friend. “I think we can do that now, from time to time. The memories suddenly don’t hurt so much.”

To Marc: You didn’t mention that you sold your song to Danny. Turns out I’ve been listening to it every week for ages. Miss you ❤

******

Marcus is far less relaxed, sitting at his desk, writing down notes and impressions on the case so that he doesn’t miss anything. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up, smiling when he sees that it’s from you.

To ❤ : Miss you too. You didn’t ask. 😇  Enjoy your girl’s day.

From ❤: Angela knew. Because of course she did. Can’t wait for tonight!

The reply text comes through almost right away, telling him that even while you’re with your friends, he’s at the front of your mind. Marcus smiles as he looks down at his phone, opening the emails to reconfirm the reservation he set. He wants to make sure that you enjoy the ‘first date’ with him.

A gentle knock on his office door startled him it off his thoughts, and when he looks up, Teresa is standing in his open doorway awkwardly. “Morning.” She murmurs, holding up the tray of coffees and bag of bakery treats she brought as a peace offering. “Wasn’t sure if you had breakfast yet or not.”

“Come in.” Marcus almost stands up, but he doesn’t. Overthinks it for a moment and wonders if he would stand if she wasn’t his ex-fiancée. And he wouldn’t, so he doesn’t. He does motion her forward and gives a polite smile that would be HR approved. “You didn’t have to do that.”

"Yesterday was tense." She observes, setting the drinks down on his desk and handing him the coffee, keeping the cup of tea for herself. "Consider it a peace offering."

“Tense might be a mild term for it.” Marcus accepts the coffee, opening the lid and noticing that it was exactly how he always took his coffee. She had apparently remembered. “It would have been less so if your husband hadn’t been so...himself.”

“He forgets that not everyone finds him hilarious or ingenious.” Teresa sits carefully on the other side of the desk, smoothing her tunic blouse over her bump as she does. The baby isn’t too active today, thankfully, which means the morning has gone fairly smoothly. “Patrick is…he’s just Patrick. And while I love him, I know he’s not everyone’s cup of tea.” As if to prove the point, she takes the lid off her own cup and swirls the milky liquid around with a stirring stick.

“You could have been honest.” Marcus tells her after a moment. “I would have understood more than most would have.” He would have, that’s the irony. The you-sized hole in his heart had never healed, nor could it have been filled with anyone else.

“I didn’t really know.” Teresa admits, casting a look down at her own belly before looking back up at Marcus. What she put him through…he should despise her. Refuse to help on principle. But Marcus is a better man than that and she knows it. “I knew that I had hesitations, but I didn’t really know what or why until Patrick got on that damn plane.” She tilts her head, almost shaking it at herself and closing her eyes for just a half second. “I’m sorry. For what happened between us. Not that we had something, but…for how I handled it.”

It takes a lot to apologize and now he’s gotten two apologies in the same week from the two most important relationships he’s had. If he were a lesser man, he would see it as him being morally superior in some sense. Being a ‘good guy’ in the way that all men who are not good men claim to be. Teresa doesn’t have to apologize. She’s moved on in every way possible and he’s already helping with her case, so this isn’t some kind of exercising some pent-up guilt. Instead of basking in the apology, Marcus takes a sip of his coffee and nods. “I appreciate that.” His smile is softer this time. “Really. Thank you. Apology accepted. And I apologize for rushing you into things.”

"Apology accepted. Water under the bridge." The smile on her face is genuine as she takes an almond croissant out of the bakery bag that she brought and nudges it toward Marcus. "So...I have to ask. Your ex-wife? Really?" He hadn't talked about the first Mrs. Pike often while they were together, but she had always gotten a sense that she had hurt him. Badly.

“My ex-wife.” There is not the pang of sadness and hurt that had been there before. “It— there’s never been anything like being with her.”

"So you're happy?" He deserves that, after all. To be happy. Someone with as big a heart as Marcus Pike, she wouldn't wish anything else. "I don't mean to pry, I just – if you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

“Honestly?” Marcus bites his lip and looks down into his coffee, thinking about how he had pushed you up against the wall of his shower and made you cry out this morning. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy.” It’s his turn to give her an apologetic smile. “I think, deep down, it’s always been her.” He knows it’s always been you, but it’s still his ex he’s talking to.

"Then I'm happy for you." There's no point in feeling slightly hurt over not being the one that got away from Marcus when she was the one who made the choice to leave him, so Teresa sits forward with her breakfast and looks over the file on his desk. Learning to read upside down was a fun little trick that Jane taught her. "Notice anything new or interesting this morning?"

The moment seems to be over so Marcus spins the file around so she doesn’t have to strain herself. “Take a look and tell me what you think.” He has always respected Teresa professionally and now is no different.

"That is a lot of different places called Johnson's Ranch." The sheer number of possibilities makes Teresa cringe as she looks up and down the list. "I'll get a list of prior residences for the family and see what we can cross reference. Maybe we can at least narrow it down to a region and then use the pictures to pinpoint location."

“Perhaps it’s a family vacation spot?” Marcus kicks around, leaning back in his chair. “It would make sense that it would be somewhere tied to the family.”

"Could be." Teresa nods slowly, rolling the idea over in her mind. "I'll start with deeds and homesteads and move through rental properties and businesses second. Something of this place has to have survived."

“Could even be a place that was rebranded.” Marcus groans, shaking his head. “This is going to be a miracle to solve before you give birth.”

"Oh god," she laughs at that, huffing at the idea of still being on this case in that many months. "I'll text Patrick and ask him to bring us a map of the US and maybe...three or four different colours of pushpins? We can start mapping out possibilities and colour-coding the locations. It's going to take a while to get through." When she glances up at him, Marcus's brow is furrowed, focused on the list in the folder in front of him. "Tomorrow we'll use physical markers from the pictures to help narrow it down further, and hopefully your— Dr. Pike— will be able to help us figure out some more clues we might have missed."

“She’s good at what she does.” Marcus might have done a little professional snooping at your accolades. “If anyone would be able to help, it would be her.”

"We knew you'd have the right person to bring onto the case." Even Patrick Jane, who wanted to scrub most vestiges of Marcus Pike out of his wife's past, had admitted that he was the man that could help most effectively. "We just...had no idea it would be her."

“The irony.” Marcus can’t help but give a small chuckle. “If we hadn’t divorced, she might not have been where she is now to help. Our lives might have been very different.”

"You might not have been in the FBI at all." She points out, reaching for her tea again. It's particularly soothing today. "Law enforcement wasn't your original idea, if I'm remembering correctly."

“It hadn’t been, but it’s a good thing we are where we are.” Marcus can’t regret everything. He’s done a lot of good, and put some bad people away.

"They say everything happens for a reason." Though she isn't usually the kind of person to use aphorisms for comfort, this particular one is what she's really got to go with at the moment. Because if she hadn't said yes to Marcus, then Patrick might never had gotten the kick in the pants that he needed to tell her how he felt. Which, in turn, left Marcus single again to reunite with his ex-wife. It's all just...complicated. "Let's see what we can get done today. I know you don't want to be sitting here for twelve hours, and we need our expert to get through the detail work. So let's just prep and do some digging through land deeds and family assets today. When Patrick gets here with the map we can start charting things out, and we can all call it a night for dinner."

Nodding, Marcus agrees. “Not exactly the way I wanted to spend a Sunday, but I’m sure you feel the same way.” He snorts. “If you get tired because of the little one, just lay down on the couch behind you.”

"Thanks." He knows she isn't one for complaints or excuses, and that if she lies down it will just be with the file in her lap instead of on the desk in front of her. She doesn't however, miss the way Marcus glances over at his phone and smiles - the lines around his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. "You guys have plans tonight?"

“Dinner.” He nods and looks at his phone again. “She’s at brunch with her friends, but we are having a date tonight.” It’s still slightly surreal, but he can’t wait to see you again.

“Well.” Her own phone goes off - a simple text from husband acknowledging what she’s asked for, and then followed immediately by a picture of a bag of apples. Her current pregnancy craving. It lights her up unapologetically. “We’ll make sure you get to it,” she promises.

“Thanks.” Marcus nods, feeling like the air has been cleared between the two of them and he doesn’t feel like he needs to add anything else. He turns towards the notes and starts pouring over them again. Eager to get done for today and get ready for his date with you.

******

With no instructions except being told to dress up and expect him at six-thirty, you've been excitedly pacing around your apartment for the last ten minutes as you count down to his arrival. The texts back and forth with your sister have been animated, to say the very least, and with Angie's encouragements this morning and Leah's this evening, you're feeling about as dreamy as you have in a long time. A second first date with Marcus. The thing you've been dreaming of for years.

While he rationally knows that it’s a little silly to be this excited about a ‘first date’, he’s grinning as he parks the car. He’s always wanted to do this, from the first time he had really thought about you seriously, which was about day two of knowing you. Marcus wanted to take you out to a dinner he never could have possibly afforded by then. Picking up the gorgeous bouquet of flowers, Marcus exits his car and walks up to your building to hit the button for your apartment. Wanting to do this right.

You grin when the buzzer goes off, knowing he easily could have texted or called, but this is Marcus. He's always been determined to be proper whenever possible. You hit the button on the panel in your hallway to let him up and double check your appearance in the mirror one last time. The heavy thumping your heart is doing is just as eager as the first time he came to pick you up - though your apartment and sorority house are worlds apart.

It was probably about a week after the first party that Marcus had taken you out on the first official date of your relationship. Like you hadn’t been sleeping together for a solid week. He had taken you to Sonic for a burger and a grape slushie. All he could afford at the time, but he had wanted to do more. Always wanted to do more, and now - he could. Once he makes it to your floor, he strides down the hallway with confidence, a spring to his step that has more to do with seeing you than anything else and knocks quickly.

There isn't an ounce of shame in how fast you open the door. You're not going to pretend like you weren't right in the hallway when you were, but it stops mattering the instant you open the door. All dressed up in a perfectly cut suit looking like a dream, Marcus is holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers - he remembered, you sigh inwardly - with a bright smile on his face. "Hey love." The sight of him takes your breath away, and you really can't tell if you gasp or not before getting your composure back. "Do you want to come in for a minute?"

“Sure.” Marcus steps inside and offers you the bouquet. “I know you have a vase or ten to put these in.” He remembers how you used to admire the beautiful vases when you were window shopping. His grandmother had given the two of you a beautiful crystal vase when you had gotten married, and he wonders what happened to it.

“It’s an addiction,” you admit, cheeks heating a little but not really embarrassed. The soft pink and white ranunculus flowers deserve the best vase you have, especially because they’re from him. From the side cupboard in your kitchen, you dig through the smaller and more everyday vases you’ve collected over the years to come out with one made of gorgeous cut crystal. “You might recognize this one…” There were a few tokens that had gone with you to your new life, unable to completely let go of the one you had built with Marcus. Your wedding gift from his grandmother was one of them.

“I had just thought about that vase.” Marcus admits, grinning as he watches you unwrap the band from the flowers and move over to the sink to put a few inches of water in the bottom of the vase. There’s no hurt feelings over it, he had told you to take whatever you wanted when you were packing up, and he’s happy to see that you kept it. “It’s perfect, I think.” He hums. “Very fitting.”

“I feel very coordinated.” The flowers embroidered on the handkerchief hem of your black dress dance in the overhead lights from the kitchen as you set the vase in the center of your table and turn back to him. “What do you think? Is this appropriate for the mystery date?”

“Very appropriate.” Marcus agrees, stepping back slightly and dragging his eyes from head to toe. If it weren’t for the fact that he wants this date, he would be pulling you back towards your bedroom in a heartbeat.

“Later.” You point a finger at him and grin, being well-acquainted with that look in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’ll like what’s under the dress, too.”

“Damnit.” Marcus huffs, although he doesn’t mean it for a second. “Sonic doesn’t have reservations.” He’s done this to himself but he also knows you will be very happy with tonight.

“Sonic, huh?” Your eyebrow ticks up at him as you pick up your purse and open the door again. “Are we having a repeat first date?” That would be awfully sentimental and fairly on brand for the two of you.

“While I still say that the grape slushie is the best flavor, no.” Marcus chuckles and steps outside so you can close up your apartment. “I made reservations for us at L’Ardente for 7 o’clock.”

“L’Ardente?” The impressed noise you make has him puffing up slightly. “Well aren’t we very fancy tonight.” This is him, though, too a tee. Even when you were scraping by on pennies, he was trying to think of ways to make everything the nicest possible version of whatever DIY you could afford.

“Followed by drinks and dancing at Sax.” Marcus adds as you slip your keys into your purse and he takes your hand. “If you’re up for that after we try the forty-layer lasagna.”

“Dinner, drinks, and dancing?” Leaning into his side a little when you get into the elevator, you lend him a dreamy grin. “Cary Grant has nothing on Marcus Pike.”

“The experience I wanted to give you so many years ago.” He had, to an extent. Dinner was fast food or whatever you could afford at the time. Drinks and dancing was shots of tequila and parties on campus, but this is more mature. The way he had always imagined taking you for an anniversary dinner ten years down the road, still having that spark between you. “Now I get to.”

“You know I loved every date you ever took me on.” The boy he was would be so proud of the man he’s become, and it makes your heart swell knowing that you had been any part of it - though you push away the ache of knowing you could have been there for everything.

“I loved them too, but I always imagined this in our future.” He admits, the doors opening and both of you step out into the small atrium of the apartment building and walk by the post boxes to the front door. He had parked on the street in the ten minute parking so he could bundle you into the car and hurry off. “When we were ‘old and boring.” He teases.

“It’s a privilege to get to be old and boring with you.” You promise him, waving to your doorman on your way out of the building.

Marcus laughs as he opens the door to let you get in the passenger seat. “You mean we aren’t now?” He asks, winking at you as he closes the door to round the hood to slide in beside you.

“Maybe a little.” When he slips into the driver’s seat beside you, you lend him a grin. “If we tried partying like that again in our thirties we’d break something.”

“Hangovers.” Marcus moans. “Who knew they would get so fucking bad?” He asks rhetorically.

“I swear it’s why I’m pickier about what I drink now.” Years ago, the cheapest liquor in the world didn’t bother you. Now your home bar is carefully stocked with pricey splurges that craft beautiful cocktails. “If I’m going to deal with a hangover, I want it to be worth it.”

“Exactly. It’s why I try not to get trashed anymore unless it’s a special occasion.” Marcus jokes.

“And we have the dreaded work tomorrow.” Not that either of you dread your jobs, but it makes you both smile and you slip your hand into his as he steers the car into the flow of traffic. “How was today, by the way?”

“It was…interesting.” Marcus tells you, shrugging slightly. “Apparently when it comes to apologies from exes, when it rains - it pours.” He chuckles quietly. “Teresa wanted to clear the air.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Not that he deserves apologies from multiple people, but that things are getting cleared up. Making things less awkward will be good for everyone. “I take it her husband was not a part of that conversation? He doesn’t seem like the apologizing type.”

“No, he didn’t come for the apology tour.” He doesn’t really care, it’s water under the bridge. “But I also had to apologize to her too.”

“What for?” The only account of their relationship that you’ve heard places the end result squarely in Teresa Jane’s lap, but things are never that black and white in real life.

“Because while I cared for her…” he reaches over and takes your hand to bring it up to his lips to kiss it softly. “I was running away from the fact that she wasn’t you. And that there was still something missing because she wasn’t you.”

“I love you, too.” There really isn’t any escape to it - not that you want one. Not at all.

That sugary warmth that settles over him every time you say those words descends again and he looks over at you and smiles. “Good to know.”

“So…” You squeeze his hand and thread your fingers together easily. “Do you happen to remember my friend Angela? She was my roommate freshman year - black hair, grey eyes, supermodel tall?”

“Angela….” Marcus frowns for a second. “Angie Carter?” He nods. “Yeah. I hear she still keeps in touch with a lot of our old friend group. Marcus talked to some of them, but he had made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about you. It had been too painful. They had all respected it for the most part, obviously why he didn’t know you were in D.C.

“Angie Carter-Kim, now. She got married about a year ago to one of the other lawyers at her firm. But yes, same Angie.” The streets zip by as he drives steadily through traffic, turning up the length of Massachusetts Avenue toward the restaurant. “She’s extremely excited to hear we’re…doing this. She was over the moon at brunch.”

“She’s in D.C.?” Marcus isn’t surprised, Angie was always very driven and interested in the political side of the law, but it’s good to know that you have old friends who knew him as well as both of you when you were together. “That’s good that I have one person’s approval.”

“She wants to have us over for dinner so you can meet Harry, so I told her I would ask.” Truth be told, doing things like suggesting double dates with friends and giggling over Marcus at brunch made you feel so comfortable today.

"We can do that." Marcus agrees, knowing that it would be nice to have another person that wasn't work related that he knows in D.C. Especially since you were still close to her. "Tell her that we will set something up." It might be after the case, considering he doesn't know what is going to happen, but it would be something to look forward to.

“You’ll like Harry. He absolutely thinks the world of Angie and treats her like a goddess.” Just as she had said this morning - she didn’t settle for anything less after seeing the way Marcus had treated you. Which really should have proved a point to you, but hindsight is 20/20.

"She deserves someone like that. From what I remember she always had a good head on her shoulders. Even with us being dumb kids." Marcus hates letting go of your hand, but it's necessary to turn. "It'll be nice to catch up with her and meet her husband."

The restaurant has a valet, of course, and you slip out of Marcus’s plush SUV onto the sidewalk to wait for him. It’s silly - childish even - to feel like the few moments it takes him to join you is longer than you want to be apart, but when he steps up beside you and puts a hand in the small of your back to guide you into the restaurant, you’re home again just from his touch.

“I was thinking Le Diplomat, but decided that you might have been there and wanted to see what this place was about.” He murmurs as you both walk into the swanky restaurant and over to the sleek host stand. “Reservation for Pike.”

“Ah, of course.” The host smiles warmly. “Right this way, Mr. Pike. Mrs. Pike.” The table you’re led to is secluded, and the restaurant’s mood lighting is fairly obvious but not in a bad way. It’s inviting and romantic, which are perfect for tonight.

“That might be something you haven’t heard in a while.” Marcus is the one who holds out your seat for you, always feeling like the little gestures matter. “Being called missus rather than doctor.”

“I don’t mind.” It’s the first time in years you haven’t corrected the person, actually, and you love the way it feels, even if it’s not technically correct. “If you don’t, I mean.”

“I don’t mind it.” He admits softly as he pushes you in and rounds the table so he can sit down across from you. The candlelight is between you and he smiles as the menus are handed to you.

The host says nothing but to let you know your waiter will be over in a moment before he retreats, but you swear you don’t hear a word. Your focus is entirely on Marcus. On being with him again. “Is it really sappy if I tell you I’m a little misty about this whole thing?” You have to laugh at yourself a little, or at least have a sense of humor about it.

“I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day.” Marcus confesses with a laugh of his own. “I left the office early because I couldn’t get any more work done.”

"Angie came back to my apartment with me to help me pick out an outfit." It's such a silly thing, but you had been so excited and so nervous that your friend had jumped at the chance to do something so nostalgic as help you get ready for a date. "I almost had to remove her bodily from my apartment. I think she wanted to hang out long enough to see you."

“It good that she doesn’t hate me.” There had been a few of your sorority sisters that had been convinced that the story you had told your friends wasn’t true. That he had to have done something. It wasn’t something he had told you about, but it had been good that he hadn’t been on the market for dating for a long time because the well had been poisoned.

"She absolutely doesn't." You can promise him that with absolute certainty. "I'm the one she was pissed at, and rightfully so. She never approved of what I did."

"She shouldn't have been mad at you." Marcus shakes his head and frowns slightly. "You— you were doing what you thought was right, I know that you never meant to hurt me or yourself."

"I was an idiot, and she told me as much." There's nothing to do about it now but shrug, and you reach across the table to squeeze Marcus's hand. "Either way, I'm glad to be us again. Even if it took a while to get here."

"Me too." Sending you a small wink, Marcus wants to shift the topic of dinner. He doesn't want this to be a dinner of regrets, this is your new beginning together and he wants this to be positive. "Now, let's figure out what we are going to share for dinner." He teases. "Because I know we are going to steal bites."

"I don't know, but I think I heard something about a forty-layer lasagna?" You waggle your eyebrows at him, knowing how much he loves lasagna in absolutely any form. "So I think the question is what am I going to get that you can steal a taste of?"

"I am honestly trying to decide if you are going to choose the Duck Hunt or the Venetian Rosotto." He hums as he looks over the menu. "Duck ravioli and foie gras or riced calamari and king crab?" He asks teasingly. "Or do you want the Vitello Parmigiana? Stir things up with veal?"

"Oh, come on now." The menu is expansive and expensive, and you shoot Marcus a smirk. "The duck ravioli is under small plates, you don't think I would ever pass up duck as an appetizer in any universe, do you?" You had never had it before the very first fancy restaurant that his parents took the two of you out to when he brought you home to them, and it had been your favourite fancy food ever since.

"Then we split the Duck Hunt for an appetizer and then you order what you want." He sends you a small wink. By 'share' he means he will take one bite and then let you have the rest of it. "And we order a bottle of Krug to wash it down with. I think champagne is appropriate tonight."

"Krug?" One eyebrow ticks up at him from where you had been looking at the menu and your smirk turns to a glowing, slightly dopey looking smile that lights your whole face up. "If you want to celebrate, who am I to disagree? Just as long as you let me spoil you the same way from time to time."

He rolls his eyes at you, knowing it will be a debate later on down the road but he's happy he's going to get his way for now. "Let me do this tonight, okay?" He asks softly, wanting it to be a night you remember forever.

"As long as it makes you happy, baby." You really would give him anything. As long as it's within your power, you would hand over your whole life to make him happy. A bottle of champagne and a fancy dinner are the least of it.

It will, it will be the fulfillment of a promise he made to himself a long time ago. Nodding, he winks at you again. “I’ll make sure that I thank you for this later.” He promises huskily.

With all the stops he's pulling out, you should be the one thanking him, but you keep your mouth shut when the waiter comes over to take your order. Marcus orders the bottle and the first course and the waiter is gone again in a polite flash.

“Now...if we can fit in dessert, what would you want?” He asks, smirking at the dessert menu.

You hum like there isn't an absolutely obvious choice, if you can even make it that far into the night. "If we make it through two courses of pasta without bursting, there is a thirteen-layer chocolate cake that I think I might build a shrine to if it turns out to be as good as it sounds."

“You always choose chocolate.” He muses, smiling fondly at the memories of you thanking him profusely for the little Dove chocolates he would bring you when he had the chance.

"It was a miracle we didn't end up with a chocolate wedding cake." The decision had been close, but the beautiful strawberry and cream cake had been delicious. "We don't have to get chocolate cake, honey. It just sounds good."

“We can always get a slice to take home.” The mere mention of a wedding cake has him almost jumping to promise that the next one will be chocolate. To plan, to map out the future with you. Instead, he looks up at you to see if you agree. “Chocolate is perfect.”

"Marc..." You tilt your head and lean your chin on your other hand, trying to hold in the beaming smile that it threatening to crack the surface. "That's not what you were going to say first."

“And how would you know that?” His brow arches up playfully and he leans in, watching the candlelight dance in your eyes.

"You clench your jaw when you second-guess yourself." It's been his tell for his whole life, apparently, but the way he's looking at you is almost entirely distracting you from teasing him. "Your mother told me about that one."

“Damn.” He rolls his eyes slightly in good fun, and shakes his head. “Betrayed by my own mother.”

"What were you going to say?" If he really doesn't want to tell you then you won't push, but you don't want him to hold back. If either of you is tiptoeing on eggshells then you're only going to add to the communication problems down the line.

The answer is delayed by the return of the bustling waiter with a gorgeous bottle of Krug, along with a bucket to be placed on the table for easy access. Marcus leans back as the bottle is uncorked after he approves of it and two glasses of frothy champagne are poured. He nods his thanks as decides to answer you truthfully as the waiter rushes off. “I was going to promise you that your next wedding cake could be chocolate.” He admits as he picks up the thin stemmed glass. “To new beginnings.” He offers, giving you a chance to just ignore his comment if you wished to.

“New beginnings.” It’s a beautiful sentiment, and you tap the rim of your glass against his before taking your first sip. The crisp, bubbly liquid cools its way down your throat before it starts to warm you, and you hum at the sensation. “And I agree to a chocolate wedding cake only if we supplement it with fruit. Like those chocolate oranges you love at Christmas.”

Your comment makes him freeze. For a moment his entire system seems to shut down and reboot before he manages to smile at you. “You remembered those things?” He asks with a small chuckle.

“Of course I do.” How could you forget the little things that make him unique? They’re the things that make up the man you’ve loved for your entire adult life. “And I also remember that you like hot fudge on raspberry ice cream, and chocolate covered strawberries. So the pattern is unmistakable.”

“So we could always have chocolate dipped fruit as garnish around the cake.” He smiles, beams, at the fact that you knew him so well.

"We absolutely could." Any amount of dreaming from him has your insides twisting and filling with glee. "A piece of chocolate dipped fruit with every slice of cake. That would be gorgeous."

There’s a tiny portion of him that breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t see you hesitating or holding back. He knows what you said, but it’s hard to readjust after twelve years of believing he had pushed you away because of his need to give you everything. “Chocolate covered dehydrated raspberries are a current obsession of mine.” He admits with a grin. “There’s a little sweet shop around the corner from the Hoover building that sells all kinds of things like that.”

“We’ll have to go by sometime after work.” It’s pure encouragement, at least to you, when his shoulders drop ever so slightly and the warmth in his cheeks rises. Marcus without dreams isn’t Marcus at all, and you want to give him back that sweetness and joyfulness more than anything. “I want to share all of our new favorite things.”

“You would like it. They have all kinds of chocolate covered things.” He hums. Before, he had avoided thinking about you in there, but he knows you would like the chocolate covered rice crispy treats.

“Chocolate-covered-everything is my favorite everything.” He remembers that, apparently, and it makes you smile in the most pleased, adored kind of way possible. “I keep a container of chocolate covered sunflower seeds on my desk and I know it sounds weird, but they have a little candy coating on them and it’s the perfect combination of sweet and salt.”

“That sounds good, not weird.” He huffs. “Like a chocolate covered cashew or peanuts. But have you had a chocolate covered gummy bear?” He asks, raising a brow at you.

“Of course I have.” The look on his face is like he’s trying to keep himself from being positively giddy, and it makes your chest tighten with happiness to see him so relaxed again. “What do you think I put on my ice cream?”

“They are amazing. And I bet they are even better when chilled.” Marcus bobbles his head in agreement.

“I’ll build you a little chocolate-covered-gummy-bear scene on top of a cheesecake sometime.” You shoot him a grin and sip your champagne.

“What about in a cheesecake?” He tilts his head and considers it, looking at you for confirmation or disagreement with his idea. You love to bake, he could make cookies the density of hockey pucks.

“I bet that would work in a no-bake Cheesecake.” The idea is just silly enough to work and you stifle a giggle. “Now I have to try it.”

“Oh nooo.” Marcus groans, rolling his eyes. “You have to test something and I’ll be forced to try it.” He sarcastically tosses out. “What ever will I do?” He had always been willing to be your taste tester and had loved it.

“You’ll be at the gym more,” you snort, grinning and giddy at the lighthearted tone the night has taken. “It’s harder to just fuck away the calories than it used to be.”

“That’s way more fun than fucking running on a treadmill.” Marcus grumbles, sending you a small wink right before the waiter comes back with the appetizer for you to share.

I know says the twisted smirk on your lips, but you behave yourself with the waiter approaching.

The plating is beautiful and the smell makes his mouth water as he looks at the ravioli and foie gras. “This will be amazing.” He nods his thanks to the waiter and looks back over at you. “Well? Shall we try it?”

It tastes even better than it looks, which should be impossible, and the two of you dive back in for second and third bites with record speed so that it takes almost no time for the little plate to empty. You’d be mad that it’s gone except that it bodes such wonderful things to come. “Oh my god,” you moan softly, giggling happily. “That was insane.”

“Yes it was. And that forty-layer lasagna is going to be mouthwatering.” Marcus hums, sure that this place will quickly become a favorite. Just maybe not with the expensive champagne. “Have you decided what entree you are getting?”

“I’m torn between the Campanelle Nere and the carbonara they have listed.” Having told the waiter that you were in no rush, he had excused himself after your appetizer without taking your entree order. The night’s rhythm and theme are indulgence, so neither you nor Marcus has any intention of rushing. If you’re still dancing the night away after midnight, you won’t be surprised. Well… you might be surprised that you’re still awake, but not that you’re enjoying yourself.

“Ohhh pulling out the out of left field choices.” He teases, grinning at you and reaching for the champagne bottle to top off your glasses.

“It’s a special occasion,” you reason, laughing at his teasing tone. “I figured why do anything ordinary?”

Marcus grins. “So order both.” He suggests indulgently. “The leftovers can always be our midnight snack after we get home from dancing and…working out.”

You practically snort at the way his eyebrows lift with the suggestion, barely able to muffle it when the waiter returns to take your dinner order. Campanelle nere for now - carbonara to go. And it’s all you can do not to snicker behind the falsely dainty hand you’re holding in front of your mouth.

Marcus grins, ordering the lasagna with the short rib meat and hands his menu to the waiter. “Thank you, we just have…big appetites.” He offers, unrepentant at the double entendre in the statement.

The whole meal is as exquisite as that first plate, and half the slice of gorgeous chocolate cake is packed away in a bag with your pasta to be brought back to whoever’s house you end up at after tonight’s adventure is over. There doesn’t seem to be any question of the fact that you’ll be spending the night together, though, which sends a familiar thrill up your spine as Marcus leads you out of the restaurant. Yes, you’ve both grown up, but you’re still fundamentally the same people that you were the first time you had a first date — and those people are crazy about each other.

“Now, do we head to Sax now, or do we stop somewhere else for drink first?” He asks, trailing his fingers up and down your back as he asks what you want to do. Marcus of old would have planned everything down to the minute and hated straying from the plan, but he wants you to enjoy tonight fully.

“Let’s go to Sax.” Leaning into him on the sidewalk, you breathe in his cologne and sigh inwardly. There’s a comfort to this man that has not diminished with time, and it makes you so happy. “We can sit and scope the place out before we’re ready to dance.”

“There is bottle service there as well.” He points out, digging out his valet fob to give to the driver at the stand.

“Of course there is.” You raise your joined hands to leave a kiss on his warm skin. “It’s perfect, baby. Just a little over the top, but right from the heart. That’s the way you love, and I love you for it.”

He hums, warmed by the sentiment and he tugs you closer as the two of you wait for the car to be brought around.

The drive between places is only a few minutes and there’s another valet at the ready as you step out onto the sidewalk to wait for Marcus again while you take in the opulence of the club in front of you. It looks moody inside, dark and romantic and seductive - with jazz playing loudly and raucous laughter from the countless patrons already inside.

“Did you know that this is a restaurant most of the time?” Marcus asks as the two of you scout out a booth to snag for your private use. “They convert it into this place on the weekends.”

“We’ll have to come back for dinner some night.” It’s so easy to curl into his side when one of the waitresses shows you a clear table and sashays away with a promise to be right back.

“That sounds good to me.” The atmosphere is smokey, despite there being none on the air. The feel of it seems like you might have stepped back in time to war-time dances with GIs home from the front line. Marcus picks up the menu and hums. “What are you feeling now, baby?”

"Little bit turned on." You laugh, knowing that that wasn't the question he was asking. "Are we too adult to order a bottle of tequila?" It would be symbolically appropriate, but one of you does have to drive home tonight. And you both have to work tomorrow. So it might not exactly be safe.

“Do you want to order a bottle of Tequila?” He asks, arching a brow at you in surprise. A shot the other day was almost required, but he didn’t want to you to feel like it was a must.

"The only reason I stopped drinking tequila was because it made me miss you." That much, at least, is completely true. But you still tilt your head at him and smile. "But we also have to work tomorrow. So maybe we should stick to wine?" If he wants to reminisce over a bottle of tequila you'll join him in a heartbeat. You just don't want to pressure him.

Marcus smirks and looks back down at the menu. “I think we should do it. Our first date included tequila too.”

"We are tequila people, it seems." When you nod to the menu, you lean over a little and press a kiss to his cheek. "Let's do it, baby."

“We can have that hungover shower together in the morning.” A place like this was no stage for body shots, but Marcus orders a bottle of Don Julio when the waitress returns. Along with a couple of waters to make sure you don’t get too wasted.

"We used to be really good at those." Standing under a screaming hot shower with your arms around each other was a Monday morning special back in the day. "I bet we can get it back. Hangover shower, a gallon of coffee, and a stack of pancakes and bacon."

“Blueberry?” Marcus asks hopefully, loving blueberry pancakes when he feels like day old, dried up dog shit after too much drinking.

"Blueberry." You nod with authority. His smile is so soft and so genuine that you can just feel your heart bursting in your chest. "If you don't already have a favourite diner, there's one by my office."

“You always knew the good places for pancakes.” He agrees, nodding. “So I guess we just need to figure out which bed we are pouring ourselves into tonight.”

"Hmmm..." Even though the answer is easy, you tap your chin like it's something ancient philosophers might have muddled over for centuries. "Well. I'm thinking it's gonna be the place where we both have clothes. Which is your house."

“Maybe one day….” Marcus leans in and kisses the finger on your chin. “It can be called ‘our house’?” He asks softly. “Not now, I mean, but one day?”

"I have..." It takes a second to do the math, but the proximity of him makes you fuzzy and warm. "A little less than four months left on my lease. Is that too soon?" The annual re-signing of your lease isn't a bad thing, but you do want it to be your house together as much as you want to wake up beside him tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that.

“I think four months is a good time to decide if we are ready to move to the next step, don’t you?” Marcus asks. He would say tomorrow, but he knows that’s not rational.

"I honestly don't think we're going to spend too much time apart over the next four months." Maybe it's speculative, or just wishful thinking, but the flushed warmth under your skin is as honest as anything you've felt in a very long time. "But it sounds like a good amount of time for an official decision."

“Of course, we should probably make the decision before the last minute.” He teases and winks at you. “I’ll make you sign a lease if it makes you feel better.”

The second you open your mouth you shut it again, worried about pushing him or making him uncomfortable. "I don't need you to make a fakey lease for me," you tell him finally, nesting a little closer into his side. "But you do have to let me help with the bills."

“Groceries….” Marcus compromises. “And whatever else you want. How about that?” It was crazy to talk about combining finances, and he doesn’t want you to do that if you don’t want to, but one day you will have to have that talk.

"Utilities," you bargain when he puts his arm around you. "At the very least. We both make good money now, love. It's got to be equal somehow. A life shared, ya know?"

“We can talk about it when you— we decide what we want to do.” Marcus promises, taking your hand and kissing the fingertips of each finger.

"Can I tell you what my first thought was?" Tipping your head back lets you catch his eyes and you swallow down some nerves in an effort to be completely honest with him. Honesty is the thing that you're working on harder than anything else. You can't hold back this time. "When you said our house?"

“You can tell me anything.” Marcus tells himself that the two of you should talk often. Honestly and openness will go a long way. Even if it’s not exactly what he wants to hear.

“I was thinking…” It makes you sniffle a little, but your smile is beaming. “About how many firsts we’ll get to have there.” The specific image in your mind was domestic as hell - a scene of you and Marcus decorating for a kid’s birthday party. How excited and proud he would be every single year. “Including coming home from our first honeymoon, because we’re finally going to take one. But…I thought about how perfect it will be for parties.” You grin, squeezing his fingers a little in yours. “Especially kids’ birthday parties.”

Marcus closes his eyes for a moment, letting your dreams and ideas just seep into his soul. It's what he's always wanted with you, twelve years ago it had been his goal and he had thought he was going to have to live it with someone else. Now you are here and offering it to him again. Eyes still closed, he nods, almost ready to cry. "Yeah."

“Hey, hey.” You lean over to kiss his cheek and hold him a little tighter to your side. “Was that too much?”

"No." His denial is immediate, eyes flying open to lock onto yours. "No, I just— it's that I never imagined that I would be able to dream about that with you." He admits softly. "Just- just absorbing it. It's good, I promise."

“Okay.” Your voice stays soft and encouraging when the waitress comes back to deliver the bottle Marcus ordered along with a small but stylish tray of appropriate mixers, salt, and lime slices. You thank her and pass along an extra tip, but never take your real focus off of Marcus. “If you had said four months was too long, I would have agreed with you, for the record.”

"Baby....I'm trying not to rush you." He almost pleads with you to understand. "I just— I want you to set the pace this time."

"I know, baby. And I'm saying that my pace might be a little bit faster than what you expect." You set the bottle in front of him and pick up two shot glasses, wanting to bring the mood of the night back to something joyful rather than fretting. "Come on. Let's have a couple of drinks and dance. That's what we came here to do, right?"

He can agree to that. The last thing he wants to do is to turn this into another angsty debate about the future. “To the Tequila that brought us together.” Marcus offers taking one shot from you and holding it up.

"To second chances." The rims of your shot glasses tap together with a crystal clear tnk and you share a grin, lifting your other hand to cheekily offer him the salt you sprinkled on your skin.

Marcus keeps his eyes on yours, smirking as he leans down and laps at the salt with a slow drag if his tongue before he straightens up and tosses down the shot of tequila before reaching for his lime. “Still better off your tits.” He decides.

"Well yeah." And thanks to that comment as well as his unyielding eye contact, you're about ready to jump him right there in your booth. "You like everything better when my tits are involved."

“They are great tits. We could always take the bottle home.” Marcus coos, cock twitching in his pants. “Lick salt off your pussy and tequila off your tits.”

"Fuck, Marc." His name comes out in a whine and you pout at him as dramatically as possible. "You're gonna kill me."

He chuckles, smug in the feeling of you wanting him right now. “Drink your shot, baby.” He nods towards your drink. “I want to dance with my wife.” It slips out of his mouth before he can change his words, because it was what was running through his mind.

“Mmm.” You could tease him for it. For the slip of the tongue and how honest it is. But it fills you with such tangible joy that all you can do to keep from throwing your arms around him is hum and murmur: “I think I can arrange that.” Before taking your own shot with the salt ready and waiting on his hand.

There is a filthiness in the way your tongue flicks against his skin, making him groan quietly and shift in his seat. “Fuck.” He pants out quietly, his mind going extremely x-rated again.

“That’s what happens when you play with fire, Pike.” The wink you aim at him is unmistakable and devious, and you’re already sliding out of the booth when he groans in protest. “Come on, handsome. Dance with me.”

He lets you pull him out of the booth, standing up and letting you lead him to the floor. If he wasn’t an FBI department director, he would be dragging you to the bathroom to see about recreating a club quickie. He doesn’t think his boss would approve of the scandal.

The band on stage is playing something slow and sultry, the last strains of a love song cast out over the crowd as you step out together. You’re barely paying attention to what the song is, though, with Marcus’s hand tangled in yours and the notes morphing into something more upbeat. Less seductive but no less romantic. A very good combination for a second chance at a first dance.

Holding you close, Marcus soaks in the atmosphere and closes his eyes with a sigh. Everything is perfect, stars aligned in the skies, and he wants to live in this moment.

The Postmodern Jukebox-esque band on stage croons on, but your focus is entirely on Marcus. The way he cradles you close is near reverent and you keep close like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you move away even a fraction of an inch.

The two of you had danced before. A lot of it had been the normal grinding on each other and used as foreplay. This was almost as intimate and twice as romantic. He turns and presses his lips to your temple and sighs softly. "I love you." He promises, lips near your ear.

“I love you.” Three words. Three tiny syllables. But enough meaning to shake you down to your very core. To feel like you’re being broken down and rebuilt every time he says it, and every time you say it back.

Marcus closes his eyes, resting his head against yours and keeps you swaying with him to the rhythm of the song. Lost in the little bubble of a world around just the two of you. Not even caring about anyone else on the dance floor.

It’s your own little world, being caught up in Marcus’s arms like this. No one else exists and the music playing all around you might just as easily have been the radio in the living room of your little apartment off campus where you liked to dance barefoot and squish your toes into the carpet. If you can manage to remember a single one of these songs beyond the rhythm of his beating heart, you’ll make sure you dance to every single one of them again when you marry him again.

Soon, the need for a drink, Tequila or water, makes him pull away and kiss you once more before guiding you off the floor. “We need a drink.” He murmurs when you give him a doe eyed pout.

“Okaaaay.” He’s on point, as always. You just hadn’t realized you were thirsty because you’re so wonderfully distracted. “Should we mix up something fun this time?”

“What do you have in mind?” Marcus asks, intrigued by your idea of fun now. Wanting to see what it consists of.

“Apparently the best kind of Dirty Shirley is one made with tequila.” Or so you had been told many times over, when Jacqui was trying to get you to dress-up your mocktail on nights you didn’t necessarily feel like drinking. “My friend swears by them.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those.” Marcus knows that after this drink, he will need to cut himself off or call an Uber. “Let’s try it.”

When you slip into the booth you pull Marcus after you, not wanting to be even a few feet away from him. The things on the tray in front of you are enticing, but not as enticing as he is, and the tequila will absolutely wait while you press your lips to his in the moody darkness of your private booth.

He’s surprised when you pull him to you. Not because kisses have been few and far between, but because of the urgency behind it. Slightly desperate and feeling like those early make out sessions when you first got together, Marcus crushes you against him with a moan.

Once, you absolutely would have climbed into his lap and completely blocked out the world. Right now there is something about the moment that feels invariably nostalgic and at the same time like you're clinging to the future. Each little sound that pours from one of you threatens to drown the other but it only makes you work harder, encouraged by the tight grip of his hands as he drags you close and the way your fingers bite into him to keep him pressed against you.

The whispering that is occurring to just the left side of the booth shouldn’t capture his attention. And it doesn’t, not when all he can focus on is the way your moan vibrates across your tongue to his. Not until there is a very pointed voice. “See? I told you he would choose this place after dinner.” Marcus’s eyes spring open and he freezes as the booth cushion depresses as someone slides into the bench seating. “Ohhh Tequila. I’d love a shot but we should get Teresa some water, huh?”

Fuck. Marcus cannot believe that Patrick fucking Jane is now interrupting his date with you.

You feel Marcus freeze against you before anything else registers, and a whine of protest is halfway past your lips when you open your eyes to see all the colour drain from his face. It’s another split second after that that you recognize another voice - and it takes everything you’ve got not to curse him out for interrupting. “You have got to be kidding me.” Mumbling under your breath, you try to rearrange your face into something less murderous before you turn around. “Well this is certainly a surprise,” you bite out, hoping you sound more surprised than angry.

For her part, Teresa is mortified. Half embarrassed at the way her husband is proving himself to the biggest asshole and half embarrassed that a man she used to sleep with was very enthusiastically making out with his ex-wife. “Patrick – let’s go!” She hisses, pulling on his arm before she throws you an apologetic look. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was – was— was—”

“Planning on crashing and ruining my plans with my wife?” Marcus fills in for her, finally able to speak again.

“Oo! Have we already gotten rid of the ex part of that title?” Patrick is already flagging down your waitress to request a bottle of water, acting like he’s crashed your book club instead of your foreplay.

“What are you doing here?”

“Patrick, let’s go.”

Marcus and Teresa speak at the same time, both of them sounding exasperated with the same man who is helping himself to the bottle of Don Julio on the table.

“He’s keeping tabs on us.” One of your eyebrows ticks up at Patrick Jane and dares him to say otherwise. To contradict you or play innocent. But this isn’t the first time you’ve met a man like Patrick Jane - and unfortunately it won’t be the last. “God forbid our reunion be more romantic or a better story than how he leapt onto the plane to bear his heart to the fair maiden and win her love away from the invader.” It would make you furious if it didn’t also make you feel sad for him. What a small, scared man he must be for that to be true. “Since he intended to gloat about his marriage and his growing family and can’t do that now that he found you happy, he had to think of a different way to feel superior.”

“That’s not—” Patrick frowns and shakes his head. “That’s not true. I—” He huffs. “I saw Marcus’s ideas written down in his office and it seemed like a good idea.” He admits. “Something better than sitting in the hotel room.”

“And you intentionally chose the one you thought was most likely to interrupt them?” Teresa sighs, shaking her head a little, but her fondness for her husband pushes through the annoyance and embarrassment. “This is his way of saying we should all go out together. By just putting us all in the same place.”

Marcus looks over at you, frustrated but wanting to see your thoughts on the situation before he says anything. Being cockblocked by your current boyfriend's ex-fiancée's husband wasn't exactly on your to-do list for today, but you take a deep breath to make sure you don't vent your frustration directly at Patrick Jane again after basically accusing him of narcissism to his face. "We were going to have one more drink and head home." You decide on a white lie, feeling that it's relatively harmless under the circumstances. "Why don't we have a round together and then you two can have the table?"

“That would be good.” Marcus jumps on the idea. “I’ve heard dancing is good for babies, so you should definitely take your wife out on the dance floor.” He smiles at Patrick like it’s a perfect solution.

“Of course.” Patrick Jane puts one hand to his chest like he’s offended that Marcus would ever doubt him.

“First I have to hunt down a bathroom.” Teresa looks embarrassed yet again, but shrugs. “The joys of pregnancy,” she laughs, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s in the back corner.” For as displeased you are that they’re here, you’re not going to fault a pregnant woman for having to pee. And honestly, you’re a lot pent up from nearly climbing Marcus like a tree on the dance floor…so it’s not a bad idea for you either. “Come on,” you offer, squeezing Marcus’s hand right before letting go. “I’ll go with you.”

Marcus waits until you are out of the booth, watching as you guide Teresa towards the bathrooms before he looks back over at Patrick. “Why are you really here?” He demands, pretense dropped and the beginnings of a scowl on his face.

“I find you utterly fascinating.” Jane deadpans, pouring himself a large amount of tequila lime along with lime juice and soda water. “Now that I don’t have to pry you away from Teresa, I am engrossed.”

“Why am I fascinating?” Marcus asks, completely bewildered by that answer. It had been the last thing he had expected to come out of Patrick Jane’s mouth. He waves off an offer of a shot of the tequila he’s paying for and watches as Patrick shrugs and lifts his own drink.

Jane leans back in the booth and smirks, raising the glass to his lips with a shrug. “A man as desperate to commit as you should have had this all worked out years ago. I always wondered why you were single when you obviously wanted so badly to be married.” In fact, the other men on the team in Austin had been sick of hearing about it. “But now I see why. It has to do with her.”

“I’m sure you’ve been in love at least once.” Marcus’s tone is just shy of snarky and he picks up his bottle of water. “The kind that never fades, no matter what.”

"I've been married twice." The other man reminds Marcus, frowning momentarily.

“Don’t have to love someone to marry them.” He retorts, scoffing slightly. His hard on is gone, the pleasant buzz he had is a thing of the past.

"Seems a shame to skip that part." Jane seems not to care about anything but his drink, watching the way it refracts the dim club lights in his glass. "You would never skip that part." He has to ask. To push the needle in just a little bit harder. "Would you, Marcus?"

“Are you asking if I loved your wife?” Marcus asks, stonily staring at Patrick. Wondering why the fuck does this have to be rehashed again. “And why does it matter? You are with her, like you should be. You’re having a baby, congratulations. Why does this matter now?”

"A curious man can never be satiated." With more enigmatic bullshit than sense coming out of his mouth, Patrick Jane seems particularly proud of himself and not inclined to make much sense.

Marcus’s sigh is half frustrated, half resigned. He reaches for the tequila bottle and uncorks it. “If I had been with Doctor Pike—” God, he loves saying that. “I wouldn’t have looked twice at Teresa, or any other woman. Ever.” He admits to Patrick. “She’s had a spell on me since the first time I saw her. And I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive to have her back.”

“Funny.” A wry smile quirks to the corner of Patrick’s mouth. “That’s what she told Teresa about you.”

“What can we say?” Marcus shrugs slightly although his heart is bursting with pride that you were happy to have him back. “We love each other.”

“Yeah, we do.” You hum, appearing beside Marcus with a bright smile on your face. Teresa rounds your other side and slips back into the booth beside her husband while you nestle back in with Marcus. “Glad to see you two boys didn’t come to blows while we were gone.”

“I really think Marcus would like to punch me.” Patrick announces, looking hurt at the prospect. “But I’m going to be his best man when he remarries you.” He predicts, winking at you playfully.

“With no offense intended whatsoever,” you squeeze Marcus’s leg under the table to keep from bursting out laughing. “I don’t think the timing will probably allow for that. Unless you’re planning on moving to DC and this is how you’re telling us?”

“Oh God no.” Teresa manages quickly. “I think Marcus would transfer to the moon if Patrick were coming to D.C. permanently.”

Her husband huffs at her and shakes his head. “How little you trust me.” He gives her a wounded look. “And here I was trying to push them to do what he’s already dying to do.”

“We’ll remarry when we’re ready to.” You desperately need the cocktail you’re pouring for yourself, and you look to Marcus to see if he does, too.

“So you don’t know….” Patrick hums, smirking at Marcus. “Interesting.”

“You’re absolutely infuriating.” You tell Patrick flatly. He seems to thrive from pissing people off and at this point you’re trying very hard not to raise your voice. “Marc and I don’t owe you an explanation or a justification just because you’re morbidly curious about our relationship.”

“Don’t.” Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “We don’t have to explain anything, and he likes poking. Just to see what he can get.”

“Maybe we should go home.” The defeat of having your first date invaded and the whole mood soured is starting to get to you, and making you doubt the whole thing. Like the universe is trying to tell you that just love isn’t enough.

“Please don’t.” Patrick urges you. “I would feel terrible.”

He should feel terrible, but you don’t say as much. “It’s up to you,” you murmur to Marcus, knowing that you’ll stay with him either way. If he wants to stay, you’ll stay.

“Baby, if you want to go home, we’ll go home.” He promises you, leaning in and brushing his nose against yours. “Do you want to go home?” He doesn’t want to push, but wherever you go, he’s going.

"I just want to be with you." The whisper is barely loud enough for him to hear because at this point you're convinced that Patrick Jane can read lips or has somehow planted a microphone on you. The night has been rudely hijacked but there is still time to get it back.

“That’s all I want too.” Marcus promises before he decides on what he wants to do. “Kiss me.” He demands softly, reaching up and grasping your chin.

Now that is a request that you will gladly agree to. It takes barely any effort to make it happen - just tilting your head backward and barely tipping your chin to press your lips firmly and eagerly to his. Your hand on his jaw just connects you a little bit more, focusing your energy entirely on him as you let yourself dissolve into the kiss.

Marcus ignores the sounds of approval from Patrick, focusing on the feeling of you, the way your lips melt against his. Forgetting in just a few seconds that they are even there. Whatever his endgame is here, you're not fighting it. The chance to give yourself over to the moment - to just have it be you and him with the rest of the world not mattering one single bit - is too good to pass up.

He’s not going to let Patrick ruin this, to take away from this amazing night that the two of you have shared. If it means making out in front of him and Teresa, so be it.

You don’t resist when Marcus deepens the kiss, sighing softly when he slides his tongue along the seam of your lips and letting him in instantly. All thought of the Janes has faded from your mind and the only thing left there is Marcus, leaving you in a perfect state of relaxation and bliss with your arms tight around each other.

He makes it soft and yet completely overwhelming, wanting to put the dreamy look back in your eyes. Choking your chin and tilting it up as he tangles his tongue with yours.

If not for air, you would never have stopped. If you could breathe in Marcus, you absolutely would. Unfortunately, the human body does require oxygen at a certain point, and you have to pull back even just for a moment. With your eyes still closed and your forehead pressed to his, you shiver a little in his arms.

Humming happily, Marcus just breathes you in. Unconcerned with what the two behind him are doing. “You want to dance again?” He murmurs softly.

All you can do for a second is nod, with your heart beating out of time in your chest and your blood pounding in your ears, you're just looking at Marcus like he hung the moon. "Yeah," you whisper when you remember how to speak. "Yeah, I do."

Marcus offers you a smile. One that says that he’s glad you said yes, because it was what he wanted. Not even bothering with the niceties of excusing the two of you - he hadn’t invited the Janes to this date after all - he stands and helps you out of the booth to guide you back to the dance floor.

The song doesn’t matter just like all the other people on the dance floor don’t matter, because the world may as well have ceased existing as long as you can still have Marcus here beside you. It makes you wonder - just days into this revived relationship - how you even managed the last twelve years without him. “Back in our own little world,” you hum softly, going to him like a magnet. There is nothing you want more than to be held in his arms.

“That’s what matters.” Marcus pulls you close and his arm around your waist keeps you anchored to him. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly. “I was deciding what dancing venues would be best and had them written down. I guess he saw them when he got to the office today.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” The man who should apologize has probably never done so sincerely in his entire life. “Think of Patrick Jane as a test for the most annoying parts of having a child without any of the positive moments,” you joke, knowing what some of your friends and coworkers have said about their own kids. “If we can take the interruptions with grace now, we’ll be fine when it’s tiny people we love.”

“Tiny people we love.” Marcus instantly gets soft at the idea of mini yous running around and wrapping him around their fingers. “I like that idea.”

“So sometimes we’ll be interrupted.” You both hold each other a little tighter, melting into the idea. “That’s okay.”

“Hmmmm.” Marcus leans in and kissing you softly. The idea of kids is always something he’s loved but with you it’s extra special. The rekindling desires he had harbored when he was newly married to you.

“Love you, baby.” The soft murmur against his lips is more honest than anything else in the world right now, and you wrap one arm around his shoulders to keep close. “So much.”

The music is soft and slow, allowing the two of you to slowly sway side to side without actually moving your feet. Marcus is aware when Patrick and Teresa come onto the floor to join the two of you but he doesn’t even look over, too busy looking into your eyes.

“Think this band does weddings?” You can’t help the thought, imagining dancing to this same music in a hotel or vineyard somewhere. Something more mature and artistic than the wedding his gracious parents had thrown for you as literal children.

“I’m sure they do.” Marcus smiles, closing his eyes and sighing softly. “It would be nice. Although now you know we have to have a Tequila bar at the reception.”

“I was thinking tequila-based signature cocktail.” You admit with a grin. The thought had occurred to you this morning at brunch and made you smile. “Maybe both. Whatever we want.”

“You’re already planning our next wedding?” His grin matches yours and stretches a little wider. “I think I like that.”

“I’ve dreamed up a million different ways it could go.” Over the years it became the daydream that both haunted and uplifted you. Wondering if the day would ever come. Now that it’s within reach it feels like it’s lighting you up from the inside. “I want it to be perfect for you.”

“Baby.” Marcus shakes his head and leans in to kiss you again. “Only thing I need for it to be perfect is for you to be walking towards me again.”

“I promise.” Tomorrow on your lunch break you’re going to go and do a little shopping, you decide as you press your lips to Marcus’s. For something he would never expect in a million years. Something he deserves more than anything.

“Mmmmm.” He loves when you kiss him. He always has, reaffirming that men need to feel special as well. It makes him smile against your lips happily.

“This band. Tequila bar. Chocolate cake with fruit. I’m cataloguing it all away.” You promise him softly. “It will be perfect.”

“Now, the most important thing.” Marcus teases. “Where do we want to honeymoon?” The last time you got married, it had just been a weekend in a hotel but he wants to take you anywhere you want to go.

“This is a much harder question,” You laugh, still swaying with him even when the music picks up. “It could be somewhere neither of us has ever been before? Or we could go two places and share our favorite places with each other?”

“Honestly…” Marcus blushes slightly and gives a small shrug. “I’ve always imagined Paris with you.” He knows you have been, you lived there for awhile, but he wouldn’t mind going back. “But we don’t have to.” He adds quickly, not wanting you to mired in guilt.

“I can show you everywhere I wanted to share with you while I was living there.” Your tone goes dreamy, soft and full of warmth. You had dreamed so many times of showing him your favorite places - the chance to actually do it in real life sounds perfect. “And we can do new things, obviously. But I…I would love to share Paris with you.”

“Then that’s where we should go. Experience it together.” He sighs softly, imagining it with almost movie like clarity in his head.

“Perfect.” And if you happen to come back with one of those tiny people who you love on the way? You’ll just have to hunt down a Fabriqué à Paris onesie.

“So now that we’ve planned most of it out, we’re all set.” He knows these are vague fantasies, but they are helping him get more comfortable with wanting it with you. There’s no panic there for you, he’s gotten better at reading you with his FBI training.

“Oh yeah, planning a DC wedding is no sweat.” You practically snort, knowing how much work Angela and Harry’s wedding took to get right. You had never realized until then just how much of the work his mother had done for you.

“Honey, we plan what we want and hit we want.” Marcus winks at you. “And we can afford a wedding planner.”

“How very fancy of us.” You can’t help but giggle a little, knowing that you used to think vaguely of having a vow renewal fifteen or twenty years in the future. If you had only known then. “We’ll have to dream up just the right place, then. Some places have planners assigned to couples when you book them.”

“Wherever you want.” Marcus is easy in the venues and to be honest, doesn’t know D.C. like you do. “The people there are what matters to me.”

“I could get us a deal on a Smithsonian wedding.” You waggle your eyebrows at him, not above Throwing your seniority around to make sure your second wedding is unforgettably beautiful. “If you wanted to. It’s just an idea.”

“Is that what you would want?” Marcus asks seriously, intrigued by the idea. He’s never heard of a Smithsonian wedding, but it seems like it would be amazing.

“I’ve definitely thought about it before. A lot, actually.” Always him. Always wondering how many new friends would be added to the old ones and how many of your combined family members would be crowing ‘I told you so’. “Maybe we can make date nights out of visiting the galleries they rent out and seeing if we like any of them for us?”

“Whenever you want.” He agrees easily, nodding at the idea and looking forward to another date night. “I’ll let you arrange it so Patrick doesn’t find out.” He snickers quietly.

“We’ll leave a list of decoy ideas.” You laugh right along with him, smothering the spine but not the way your body shakes. “Send then to some very odd places.”

“Ohhh please tell me you have the address of a sex club or something.” Marcus begs quietly. “Something discreet so he doesn’t know until he gets inside.”

“I was thinking of the address for the Department of Sanitation or something.” But you burst out laughing, holding Marcus close as you shake with it. “I’ll have to see if Angie has had to do any interesting recon for a case that’s past. She might have something fun for us.”

“I like the way you think.” He chuckles with you, happy that the night had returned to being about the two of you and no one else. This is what he wanted.

“Anything for you.” Especially if it’s something to make him smile. Living without that smile for twelve years has only proven to you how precious it is to have back again.

Marcus might be the luckiest man in the face of the planet. “Let’s go home, baby.” He murmurs softly, ready to strip you down and make love to you.

"Absolutely." Home. With him. It's the exact place you want to be.

Marcus grins and glances over where Patrick and Teresa are dancing. “Let’s go.” He motions over to the coat check and bypasses the table where you had been sitting.

It almost feels naughty, to just skip right out on things, but you cling to Marcus's hand as he leads you to the door and passes off his valet ticket to the girl waiting by the door, but the only damn thing in the world is that smile on his face. When his car is pulled up to the curb you slide into the passenger's side and sit back in the leather seats with a sigh.

“He deserves it.” Marcus offers with a slight shrug if his shoulders and a slightly malicious grin as he throws the car into drive. Patrick will foot the bill, which is the least he can do for crashing your date.

"Let's go home, baby." His words were the perfect choice, and you giggle softly as he heads back through the winding streets of DC.

Home. He loves the fact that you think of it as home already. “Maybe- what do you think about spending all week at the house and then next week we can stay at the apartment?” He offers, not wanting to just make you stay at his place all the time if you want to be in your own space.

"You can see if you like any of my furniture better than yours." The grin you flash him while he's driving is excited and nothing less. "But I don't think it will take long for us to be spending our time at the house."

“As long as that’s what you want.” Marcus murmurs with a matching smile.

"I do." The word choice makes you fluster, like saying those specific words to him as a full sentence again is some sort of spell. "I mean, it is."

“Nah….” Marcus reaches over and takes your hand, pulling your hand up to kiss it. “I like your first answer.” He hums.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73

tCIGtDYE: @missmarmaladeth  @afro-hispwriter  @rosmarinus @mythrielofsolitude @jxvipike @avaleineandafryingpan @hnt-escape @supernaturalgirl20 @scorpio-marionette @bobafvcker @midnightevermore @dinoflower   @pearl-aqua-tears @itsbaehyungbitch   @pepperminticedcoffee @anticipayosbot @girlofchaos @speedynana @loveslide @noisynaia @just-here-for-the-moment @goodgriefitsawildworld @curiouskeyboard @iarellanouus @mymistery09-blog @seasonschange-butpeopledont @thenightdreamsballad @pondsofravenclaw  @sherlock221b114679797 @pimmyxyone @theredwritingwitch @ghostinhours @timpletance @strawberryjamcheesecake @amb11 @a-little-shade-of-kiki @wildemaven @tuquoquebrute @supernaturalgirl @ellenmunn @iceclaw101 @toxicfrankenstein @catsandgeekyandnerd @missmarmaladeth   @theincredibleinkspitter @agiroflee98 @lyonessofnarnia @we-could-have-been @totostits @scorpio-marionette @kikis-writing-world @trappistmonksofthefuture @danichz  @88dragon06  @scorpionerd @myrealmofchaos @movievillainess721 @firekissed13 @qseomik @acollectionofcells1 @captain-of-my-game1992 @alician87 @lovesbiggerthanpride @justgonewild @hiyorinatsuki   @pinkrosethorne @apocalypticwafflekitten @groovycass @rebel-fanfare    @d0cthunder @gooddaykate @purplerain04 @astridflowers @frasmotic @dornish-queen​

My Masterlist!  

[multifandomthoughts]

AFAB READER WITH SHE/HER PRONOUNS

TW: Swearing

Her back straining, she grunts as she carries her basket down, plopping it down with a thud. It’s laundry day, and with all the adventures she’s had with the Strawhats, she needs a fresh clean load of laundry.

It seems that Zoro had the same idea too, albeit for different reasons. See, he’s been having a little bit of a problem as of late, and the only way to cover up the problem is to repeatedly douse his linens in detergent.

Looking over at his predicament, she grins to herself. “Have an exciting night recently?” She asks teasingly. The swordsman tries to hide a blush and turns the other way. “The chaos that happens in the men’s bunks isn’t anything for you to worry about. And before that I had been working out so…”

His voice trails off as she notices how his face begins to burn. “Could it possibly be that you’ve noticed something that you’re interested in? Or have you just used your sword as a bedtime partner?” Zoro grits his teeth and takes the basket of dry clothes out of the room in a huff, leaving her to laugh to herself at how easily she seems to have hit the nail on the head while she loads her own clothes into the washing machine.

A day or two pass in quite quickly, which is to say chaotic and overwhelming, so the incident is almost out of her memory when Zoro comes into the kitchen for breakfast in what look like a snugly comfortable pair of pants. Stretching her arms above her head and accidentally raising her own shirt to show her tummy, she greets the swordsman as cheerfully as she can for this hour of the morning. “Good morning, Zoro!”

He looks her way for only a moment before turning away with a blush. “Yeah, morning…” She can’t imagine what’s got him so bothered, but in checking to see if he’s got some bruise dampening his mood she sees his pants are bulging in the front far more than before, and it becomes her turn to go crimson noticing that. She recovers her composure quickly though, and as they sit to eat she fixes him with a cheshire cat grin. “Excited for breakfast, huh?”

“Yeah….heard the god damn cook is making a plate just for you….” He mumbles. “I don’t care about that.” She states, matter of factly. “What I care about, is why you won’t look me straight in the face. Ever since our little laundry room encounter, all you’ve done is cower and look away, hm?” Before Zoro can even begin to think to respond, a loud thud graces the table.

A buffet-style plate of food, arranged by professional hands draws her attention. Things from apples, to strawberries, to chocolate and fish. Seems like typical food to her, but to him it means more. Gulping and turning bright red, he goes to make his leave. “I’m not feeling too hot, can we have this conversation later?”

She wants to object, but he leaves just as everyone else enters the kitchen for breakfast, and the intention gets lost in the chaos. She’s forced to wait until after the meal, but when she does get the chance to look for him he’s not hard to find. Since he’s not immediately visible napping on the deck, he’s got to be up in the gym.

“They’re coming to get you Zoro…” She bellows, her voice echoing through the gym pavilion. As if on cue, he sprints out with his swords at the ready. “Alright, where’s the enemy?” She chuckles heartily, leaning against the glass panes of the window. “Your feelings clearly. I can see how they make you act around me. You don’t do a good job of hiding them, and they’re going to eat you alive.”

The green haired man turns red realizing what she’s done to him, especially embarrassed that he had taken a ruse about invading opponents so seriously. “S-shut up! I’m in complete control of my emotional state, I don’t have anything threatening to wreck me or whatever you’re saying.”

She smirks, letting out a widemouthed chuckle. “I see the way you look at me. The past few times we’ve interacted, you’ve either run away or have had something sexual in nature on your mind. Normally you’d be one to ignore it, but when it’s me…”

Zoro scoffs and turns away, clearly to hide his continuing blush. “You sound like the fucking cook. My first priorities are to my training and my captain, I don’t get caught up in crushes or lust or anything like that.” She presses her lips together in annoyance in the face of his staunch denial. It was deeply personal, but if she needs to get him to have a breakthrough she’ll go there… “Then what about when you popped a boner as soon as you saw me this morning? Trying to say that was just some coincidence?” “That was absolutely nothing, it was left over from waking up.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She shrugs and goes to pull off her shirt. If she’s in the gym, she might as well use the equipment in there. A sports bra and shorts is normal workout attire, so when she notices Zoro looking away, she knows she’s caught him in a lie. “What’s wrong? You’re not usually this modest if the other girls are sunbathing, or when Nami has a bikini top on every day? And I’m sure you don’t have a problem with me using the gym, Franky didn’t build it just for you to use.”

“I…uh….” He stammers. She had all the information she needed. Now all there was to do was to tease him. Seductively walking towards him, she traces his muscles, watching him tense up and shiver at the newfound touch. “I just want to get strong like you, and have bulging… powerful… hot muscles like these…” she mutters, her voice getting more provocative by the word until she’s practically moaning. Then almost as soon as she’s laid it on thick, she backs away and starts stretching to warm up. Facing away from him, she makes a point of bending over to touch her toes and stick her ass in his direction.

Zoro just can’t take it anymore: he pulls her to him, his chest against her back. His throbbing cock against her butt. He could feel his temperature rise higher, and his heart beat faster. He hopes that this is warranted, and that he wasn’t mixing signals up.

The giggle rippling through her chest and shaking her whole body against him is a pretty fair sign he wasn’t wrong. “Now there’s a good boy taking action….” she coos, craning her neck back to look up at him. “And just as excited as I thought too. Any words to match that body language?” She reaches up to run her fingers through his short green hair as if enjoying the feeling of blades of grass.

“I think I love you….and you make me so horny…” Blunt and awkward, the words spill from his lips like too big a swig of sake. Without another word, he crashes her lips into hers, delivering one of the most uncoordinated and sloppy kisses he can, nearly biting her tongue.

She doesn’t fare too much better, talking the talk well but flustered to try and follow through, and her attempt to return the kiss is awkward and clumsy too. This angle isn’t working at all, so she has to pull his hands off of her and turn around to face him. Now her chest is pressed to his, only thin layers of fabric separating her breasts from his pecs. “Been hoping you’d tell me that… Really, both of those things. Now do you wanna show it with just our lips, or should we get a REAL workout going? I know which I’d prefer…”

Strong fingers digging beneath the waistband of her shorts is a pretty clear sign which he’s choosing, and she giggles as she helps him tug them down her thighs to pool at her ankles before stepping out of them. Turning to face him, she makes a playfully annoyed face. “Now you’re too overdressed. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.” With that promise, she yanks his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop, now seeing his throbbing erection with her own eyes.

“Looks like someone has been waiting a while for that….you’re already dripping for me..” Zoro, embarrassed enough to keep a straight face, but horny enough that blood rushes up to his face. A flick of her hand on his cock, and he howls with delight. A filthy grin erupts on her face as she tightens her grip, moving up and down. So painstakingly and slowly that he breathes through gritted teeth as he stares hungrily down at her. “If you know how long I’ve waited for this, why do you have to go so slow?” He demands with a hitch in his voice that could mistaken for a whimper, but a man like him would definitely never whimper or whine like that, thank you very much. She smirks back up at him and gives another arduous pump up and down the length of his shaft, letting her head droop down closer to his tip. Was she planning to combine the handjob with a blowjob? Even she isn’t sure just yet.

To his surprise, it was a fake out. Strong hands grip his shoulders as she hoists herself on top of him, sliding him into a her. A cackle erupts from her lips as he stays silent, before a large moan rips from his throat. Really, the laugh is to hide how much she wants to moan as well, unbelievably pleased by the sudden sensation of being filled by his cock. It’s hot and throbbing, and just so damn big. Her hands squeeze his shoulders a little tighter, and she leans forward to press her forehead to his. “You’ve had wet dreams about this exact moment, right? Well guess what, big guy… so have I.”

With that she crashes her lips back to his for another kiss, mostly to try and suppress her own squeals of pleasure as she moves her hips to start riding Zoro.

As he bucks into her, gasps and moans come from both parties as she caresses the skin between his neck and his face, admiring that devilish smirk. Everything she’s ever wanted is laid out in front of her, and she’s taking full advantage of it. Clearly, this is a match made in Heaven.

Their hips meet over and over in what becomes a smooth rhythm between partners in perfect synch. He holds her by the hips for leverage, though takes full advantage of this to also grope and squeeze her asscheeks for added stimulation on her end.

“Agh! Fuck, I need you so badly Zoro! I need you to keep fucking me!” She whines as her confident persona melts in the face of all this pleasure. “Is that a demand or a request?” He stops for a second, hoping to get her to beg.

“Please Zoro, I want you so much, why’d you stop?” She spits. “I won’t answer unless you answer my question.” He retorts. “It was a request to please keep fucking me!” “Well then, your wish is my command” he says as he fucks her with as much power and might that he can muster.

She moans with every thrust, bouncing her hips to meet his in desperation to get more pleasure and reach her orgasm. He’s not far from his either, and their hands are all over each other. Another minute passes before the tension in her core snaps and she comes apart in Zoro’s arms with a long needy cry. She cums hard, drenching his cock and tightening around it as her body is rocked by the pleasure. “AGH! ZORO!!”

That’s the last straw for the swordsman as well, and he hunches forward a bit to moan into your cleavage as he unleashes a hot load inside you. “Take it… take it all!”

Breathing heavily, bodies weak they collapse into each other. She nearly falls backwards and a yelp of surprise slips by her lips. Luckily, Zoro’s strong and firm arms catch her, pulling her off him as he slinks to the floor. “I guess….you were right.” He heaves. “I do have feelings for you…and this should be a thing going forward. At least, if that’s okay with you.”

She runs a hand over his pecs and abs, glistening with sweat, then pulls herself in closer to him. “This definitely needs to be a thing, handsome. You’re all mine now, and I’m yours.”

[fluff-foraxil]

Until the end (Doflamingo X F!Reader) - 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - . - Chapter 8

WARNING: Smut ahead! Don't judge me, IDK how to write sex scenes :,)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

«Cora-san! Hurry, we’re leaving», (Y/N) shouted.

Tsuru found them, again, and was on her way, so they had to leave as quickly as possible.

The girl had already packed all her stuff and moved it into her room in the ship, she was on the dock waiting for Rosinante who looked quite agitated, he kept looking around like someone was going to jump on him at any moment.

«Corazon», Doflamingo was on deck, looking at his brother.

«Let’s go, Tsuru is on her way», he hurried him to get on the ship so they could leave.

(Y/N) was halfway up the stairs to the ship, when she turned around to check if her friend was following her, but he wasn’t. He stood there, looking at where Doflamingo was standing just few seconds ago.

«See you on board, Cora-san», she thought he probably had something to fetch before boarding, so she left.

After making sure everything was done, they set sail and left the island they were currently on. Unfortunately, Tsuru was quick to catch up and they found themselves fighting against the Marine once again; the rain was pouring down like crazy, (Y/N)’s hair was sticking to her face and her clothes were completely wet.

«(Y/N) have you seen Corazon and Law?», Doflamingo called, trying to be heard over the sound of cannon balls.

«After we left the island? No, but I’m sure they are on the ship», she yelled to be heard.

The man looked annoyed by the whole situation, they were under attack, his brother and Law were nowhere to be found. It wasn’t good.

As cannon balls were being fired, Senor Pink came out with a slip of paper where Rosinante declared that he was going to find a cure for Law’s disease; Doflamingo was pissed.

(Y/N) could feel her ears ringing, the fight was long, but they managed to slip Tsuru’s grasp once again.

«Do you know something about it?»

The girl slightly jumped, knocking down some items from her desk in the process.

Doflamingo’s voice taking her by surprise.

«About what?», she groaned massaging her hip where she bumped the furniture.

«Corazon and Law», he didn’t have time to play around.

Shaking her head in negation, she didn’t know anything about Rosinante wanting to find a cure by himself. She was dismayed by the whole situation; she tried to find something to say while putting back the stuff that fell.

«Damn it», he gritted his teeth.

«Don’t worry, Cora-san and Law will be alright», she tried to cheer him up, «They’ll be back eventually».

To be honest, (Y/N) wasn’t sure they would come back, something in the pit of her stomach made her feel uncomfortable thinking about it; Rosinante hated children, him and Law were basically enemies so why? Why did he leave with him? Something wasn’t right. Doflamingo wasn’t happy about his brother leaving like that, after him being missing for so many years just to come back suddenly, he wanted to make sure he was alright and close to him.

(Y/N) shrugged, Rosinante probably had his reasons for doing what he did.

«Young Master, could you… leave, please?», she cleared her throat.

Doflamingo didn’t even realize he was just standing there, fists clenched, mind going in circles. He said nothing and left the room.

~ 6 months later ~

(Y/N) was sitting on the deck, enjoying the warm sun hitting her skin.

The children were playing.

The officers were minding their business.

Doflamingo and the three elites were having a private meeting.

“I wonder what they’re talking about”, her curiosity was killing her.

She wanted to eavesdrop, just a tiny bit. Giving one last glance to the children running on the deck, she tip toed to the room the elites and Doflamingo were having their meeting in and held her breath as she tried to grasp bits of the conversation. From the sound of it, the captain was talking with Rosinante through the transporter snail and letting him know that they found a lead about the Op Op Fruit, so he wanted both back to the ship so his younger brother could eat it since he was the one Doflamingo trusted the most.

“Cora-san and Law are coming back”, a cheerful smile appeared on her face.

After hearing that, she went back to the deck; she liked hanging out with the rest of the family, but she missed her late-night conversations with Rosinante, and the way Law would scowl whenever Buffalo and Baby 5 acted childish.

She couldn’t wait to see them both again.

«You’re it, (Y/N)!», Buffalo poked her before running around while the girl chased him and the other two children.

However, the conversation between the high-ranking officers and the captain wasn’t finished. Doflamingo had a feeling that his own brother was the one giving leads to the Marines about their every movement because, since he and Law left, Tsuru nor any other warship had showed their faces around unlike before, but he wasn’t completely sure about it and gave his younger brother the benefit of the doubt.

(Y/N) was doing one last check, making sure the children were asleep, before going to her own cabin to sleep.

«Hello, birdie», Doflamingo took up this unhealthy habit of popping up unannounced.

The girl found him sitting at her desk, his feathered coat hanging from the back of the chair.

«Good evening, Young Master», she greeted already used to his random appearances in her room.

«Enjoyed listening to a private meeting?», he smirked.

She froze with her hand wrapped around knob of the door she had just closed, Doflamingo wasn’t dumb, and he felt her presence outside the cabin that morning. He didn’t say anything in the moment, he preferred to confront her about it alone.

«I don’t know what you’re talking about, Young Master», she lied.

He wasn’t buying it, obviously. Standing up to his full heigh, towering over her, he let out a foxy laugh.

«Really? So you weren’t eavesdropping when I was talking to Corazon», he got closer, «Were you?».

She shook her head, drops of cold sweat running down her back. The man himself was terrifying, but when he stood in that particular stance was nerve wrecking; she knew she should’ve minded her business, but her curiosity got the best of it.

«Ok ok», she let out a sigh, «I eavesdropped, just a tiny, tiny bit though».

She admitted her wrongs while staring at the man before her. Doflamingo had been in a bad mood since his brother left, so the smallest thing could make him go off, he was a walking time bomb.

«Now», he took his hand out of his pocket, «What should I do with you? You know you must not lie to me, your captain».

His tone was dangerously sweet.

«I’m sorry, Young Master», lowering her gaze to the floor she started shifting uncomfortably.

«Just sorry won’t do», a vein on his forehead started showing.

She knew she messed up.

“He’s going to kill me”, gulping down the lump in her throat she was about to ask what she could do to fix it, but the bow Doflamingo delivered knocked her against the wall.

Sliding into the floor, she clutched her stomach in pain as she felt like throwing up, the kick had been strong enough to hurt her but not actually kill her. Doflamingo stepped closer, gripping her hair, and pulling her up.

«(Y/N), my dear little birdie, I don’t like people lying to me», his voice laced with sweet venom.

He threw her against the wall, her back slamming with enough force to leave her breathless for a moment.

«Is Corazon so special to you?», he asked.

Doflamingo observed the bond between her and his younger brother growing during those years. That burning feeling starting from his chest and spreading to his upper body, making his head pulsate like crazy, he didn’t like it; he didn’t like feeling so affected by something as silly as the closeness between the two.

«He’s my friend», she coughed recovering from the hits she just took.

Her devil fruit useless against Doflamingo, his haki nullified her powers.

«A friend, huh?», getting closer to her face he whispered in her ear, «I’ll believe you».

He bit down on her shoulder while blocking any sound coming out from her mouth by pushing his hand against it, he wanted to be the only one to hear her screams. The other members of the Family didn’t have to. Every part of her was his since the day she joined his crew.

Making sure to lick up the blood that was coming out of the broken skin, he looked at her terrified expression; such a glorious picture for him.

«Would you die for me?», he asked while caressing her wet cheek.

She nodded without a word.

«Would you do whatever I asked you to?», he smiled.

Another affirmative nod.

«Who do you belong to?», his smirk widening.

«You», her voice soft.

Doflamingo chuckled.

«That’s right, birdie, you belong to me», he kissed her without a warning.

(Y/N) was taken aback but responded to the gesture of affection, her hands shyly making their way towards his shoulders and behind his neck, getting the man closer to her body. She thought Doflamingo wasn’t going to go further than a make out session because he was simply Doflamingo, a man that stood above everyone else, above the World Government, above the Celestial Dragons. He was a God.

The man wasn’t going to prepare her for him, he didn’t have the patience for it. Lifting her sundress and ripping her panties letting them fall to the ground, he kept on kissing her fiercely as he got his already hardened dick out of his trousers.

«Young Master», she panted between kisses, «I… No…».

Doflamingo stopped and looked at the blushing girl, her hands gripping his shoulders trying to push him away. Her gaze avoiding his. He connected the dots and realized something.

«Is my precious little birdie a virgin?», he mocked.

She nodded embarrassed by the whole situation; masturbating was a thing, but actual sex was something she never experienced. Doflamingo, on the other hand, was unsure about what to do, never before had he fucked a virgin or if he did, he didn’t care about foreplay, but with her he was different; his body aflame with pride and lust, realizing he would be the one to take her precious virginity. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do either, relying on her captain for instructions, but he wasn’t talking.

Doflamingo licked his lips while admiring the flustered girl, a fantasy he replayed in his mind whenever he could, was now becoming a reality. He lifted her up, just enough so her crotch was at eye-level with him, his strings keeping her dress out of the way.

«You look so inviting», he kissed her thigh before nibbling at it.

The sensitive skin reddening slightly at the gesture, making the girl hold her breath, anticipating what was about to come. Everybody knew Donquixote Doflamingo wasn’t a patient man and that applied to a lot of things, sex included, so without a warning he divided in between her legs; his long tongue was a blessing, it was going around making sure to coat every part of her pussy with his saliva.

(Y/N) was in heaven, her nails digging into the wooden wall her back was against, jolts of pleasure making her whole body shake every time Doflamingo’s tongue would go over her clitoris or poke at her entrance as an uncomfortable sensation was building up, she couldn’t exactly tell where, it was like her whole nervous system was shut down, leaving space to the pleasure she was receiving and running through her body. Toes curling and back arching at the continuous stimulation, Doflamingo knew his way around the female body, every sound (Y/N) made was music to his ears, telling him she was getting closer.

She felt like light-headed, her mind was having an out-of-body experience, liquid dribbling out of her vulva as her arousal was getting closer.

“Just a bit more”, she thought, the pleasure too much for her to handle and let her form sentences.

It became too much, she thought she couldn’t take it anymore and was about to let Doflamingo know when something snapped. All that build up tension was released, mouth agape as every muscle in her body stiffened at the sudden shock of ecstasy; never in her life had she experienced such a powerful, leg shaking orgasm that left her panting like a dog. Her body drained, mind still in a haze as she was recovering from the euphoric feeling.

Doflamingo was admiring her post-orgasm glow, making her even more sexy to him.

«You did so good for me, birdie», he praised her, stroking her thighs with his thumbs.

He laid her on the bed, her slit glistening with his saliva and her juices was a divine sight for Doflamingo. His dick twitching in anticipation.

«Are you going to be good for me, (Y/N)?», he cooed as he rested the tip of his member against her opening.

(Y/N) nodded, making the man shake his head with a smirk.

«Yes, Young Master», she added.

Doflamingo didn’t waste time in pushing his dick inside her, the walls of her vagina warm and wet were like a perfect fit for the man. He felt benevolent and decided to take it slow, for now, letting the girl adjust to his size. (Y/N) felt a burning sensation, it wasn’t bad like other women described it, it was uncomfortable at first but once her walls stretched to accommodate Doflamingo’s dick, she let him know she was ready for him.

The first thrusts were slow and steady, (Y/N)’s body was relishing in the feeling of his cock stroking her walls, filling her so good and making her moan, the sustained rhythm of the sound showed him how lovely everything felt to her. Her sounds made him pick up his pace as he was whispering sweet praises in her ear before kissing her face.

Every time he was fully inside her, she would moan louder while her walls would spasm and almost strangle Doflamingo’s cock, not wanting it to get out.

He wanted more, he wanted to see, hear, touch more. Ripping her dress and bra off her, he admired the way her breasts bounced at every deep thrust of his; he stopped his movements for a moment, leaning down to leave kisses and love bites on her collarbone, he felt her walls pulsating making him want to just stay like that forever. He admired his work before picking up the pace once again, taking off his shirt that was starting to stick to his toned body.

«You feel amazing», Doflamingo kissed her jawline, his husky tone made her walls squeeze him tighter.

The room felt too warm, their sweaty bodies intertwined.

(Y/N) sank her nails in his forearm from pleasure, making him let out a low chuckle.

«Young Master», she let out a sharp cry letting him know she was climaxing.

«Go on, come for me, you’re doing so good», keeping a steady pace he bit back a groan.

Her tight walls squeezing his dick were something else compared to all the women he had fucked before, he felt like he could cum any minute but held himself back, he wanted to rip as many orgasms from her as possible. (Y/N) started crying from happiness, being able to experience something so pleasant was overwhelming.

She was an angelic sight. Her whole body exposed only for Doflamingo to see, tears adorning her eyes, a faint blush on her cheek, her hair messy, lips looking so soft and plump, her perfume intoxicating him; he wanted to experience that every day. Needing to be closer to her, he slipped out of her to change position from missionary to a scooping position; both laying on their side, facing the same direction, Doflamingo raised her knees slightly and slipped back inside her. The new position made (Y/N)’s eyes roll in the back of her head as the stimulation she received was increased.

(Y/N) climaxed two more times, a fourth was coming but something felt different that time. Doflamingo was hitting her g-spot so precisely, stimulating it continuously. She wasn’t sure about what was happening to her body as she felt an uncontrollable need to pee, she tried to hold it back without success; her back arching as she let out a strangled yelp while clear liquid squirted out of her before the actual orgasm hit her, this one lasted longer, making her become light-headed and dizzy.

«Am I making you feel that good?», Doflamingo knew what had just happened.

His pride was over the roof, feeling her squirting so hard on him as he fucked her dumb. (Y/N) couldn’t hear him, the pleasure too much for her to handle anymore as her body was starting to give out.

«Show me how that pretty face looks like with my dick in your mouth, birdie», slipping out of her he leaned against the headboard of the bed.

Beckoning her exhausted figure over with his finger, he took her head in his hand and guided her to his cock. Her mouth felt as good as her pussy did, he was nearing his orgasm as he set the pace by keeping his hand on the back of her head; from that position he could see the tattoo of his Jolly Roger on her back.

«So good», he bit his lips looking at the sight before him.

Thrusting himself in her mouth, using it like a fuck toy, he held her down as he released inside her mouth. The cum gushing out his dick, into her mouth and down her throat felt weird; mostly the taste of it, she didn’t know what to expect, it was thick and slightly bitter but not unpleasant.

After making sure he was done cumming, he let her lean back up, smirking at the sight of her he put his thumb on her mouth, signalling her to open it to which she obliged. She stuck her tongue out, showing him, she swallowed every drop.

«My, you really are a good girl», he brought her closer.

Wrapping his arms around her worn out body, Doflamingo held her in his arms until she fell asleep.

“My good girl”, he looked down at the sleeping girl, moving her hair out of her face his smile fell.

He kissed her forehead.

“Fall (Y/N), fall deeper and deeper with me so you can see the world like I do”.