#hoping I get out of work early this week but alas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aya-ni · 1 month ago

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BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK? I MISS YOU… IT’S SO LONELY IN MY MANSION! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ -

content: mdni! nsfw content; fem!reader x kamisato ayato, masturbation, fingering, pet names, creampie, breeding kink, implied somnophilia

summary: you've been missing your dear husband, Kamisato Ayato so much <3. so how about you gift him a little present? A cute photo probably wouldn't hurt, right?

Receiving small notes and letters from you throughout the day has been a normal occurrence for Ayato.

He had always been busy, after all, especially these past few weeks after he got back from Fontaine. Although you were glad because his talk with Neuvillette went well, you couldn’t help but feel a bit… lonely, since he leaves very early and comes home late, tired from his work all day.

You understood it, really! He’s just been so busy these days, and as the gentleman that he is, Ayato tries to make it up to you somehow by showering you with soft, gentle kisses all over your sleeping face each time he comes home late from work, his tired body immediately wrapping all around you after he took his bath, immediately falling asleep once he felt your warmth in his arms.

But being intimate all night was different. You do appreciate him a lot, you really do! but sometimes when he’s at his office all day… you hope that maybe, just maybe, he would come home early and whisper sweet praises, and maybe kiss you more, and maybe hold you more, and maybe feel his hands hold your ass tightly as he thrusts up into you.

You shook your head each time such thoughts plagued your mind. How lewd, and yet you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to distract yourself from such thoughts. Tried, that is.

Finding yourself on top of your bed one, uneventful afternoon, your thoughts went back to those nights when he’s on top of you, whispering sweet, dirty words in your ear while his cock hits just the right spots. Using your pretty fingers to yourself in and out, your legs spread with your knuckles plunged deep inside your sensitive cunt, juices leaked out endlessly accompanied with the filthy squelching sounds.

But you felt frustrated. Still so frustrated, in fact, because you could never reach your peak, eyes pricking up with tears as you whined, your fingers unable to reach that gummy spot that has you seeing stars, making you huff out in frustration even after almost an hour of trying.

And you were still so needy, so unsated, so fucking wet that you pulled out your fingers with disappointment, legs trembling a bit as you sat up, internally cursing and wishing that your husband magically show himself before you and fuck you senseless until you couldn’t think straight.

But alas, your imaginations could only get you so far. You disappointingly got up from the bed to take a bath and to try to clear your head from your thoughts and the aching need in between your thighs, when your eyes catched a familiar gadget that Ayato had gifted you after returning from Fontaine.

A kamera.

Maybe it was your frustration. Or maybe it was your cunt thinking first, but you suddenly had a genius idea, as you picked it up from the top of the small table besides the bed.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? You and your husband had frankly tried some stuff in bed, but your idea was a new one, and you weren’t sure if he'd respond well, internally hoping that he would at least come home a bit earlier later that night. Your cunt throbbed just by thinking about the idea in your little head, so eager to be filled as you prepared your husband a cute love letter as a gift <3.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

Ayato had been sitting in front of his desk since this morning, his shoulders stiff but his slender fingers held a well-crafted pen, signing and writing documents in a practiced manner as his eyes focused on the stack of papers before him.

The only sounds inside his office are the occasional flipping pages, the footsteps from some servants passing by outside the door, and his pen scribbling down on pieces of papers.

On quiet and peaceful moments like this, his thoughts were still noisy and occupied with his plans later on that night. He still has an important meeting that he needs to attend to later; for the upcoming cultural event, some budget meeting, assigning of tasks in preparation for the exchange event, signing of even more documents… He sighed. He was used to this, to the heavy workload that always greeted him day by day, and yet he still couldn’t help but have his thoughts diverted sometimes, his occupied mind turning quiet at the thought of you.

Just thinking about the sight of you earlier this morning made him grip his pen a bit tighter, trying to focus on the work before him as he took deep breaths. You were just sleeping peacefully, with your lips slightly parted, facing him, wearing a thin material of a yukata which made him trail his eyes down your body, your delicious curves, your swell ass, and he just wanted to take you right then and there, wake you up with his cock pounding inside your delicious cunt.

And he had to physically tear his eyes away and stand up from the bed. Although he had a hard, aching cock just by the sight of you sleeping, he could never do that to you, to his sweet wife, who’s sleeping peacefully and unaware of everything… Well, unless you permit him to do so.

Suddenly, as if his thoughts had been heard, a servant knocked on the door and Ayato quickly let him in when he heard that it was another message from you.

Receiving the envelope, his eyes visibly softened when he noticed the familiar type of paper that you always used, his hands smoothly tracing over the edges. The thought of you always writing him small messages throughout the day, taking your time to worry your little head over him has him weak on his knees, and he could never thank you enough, his sweet and innocent wife, for always understanding him when he was always so busy with work.

He carefully opened the envelope, seeing one… photo inside? Well, this is new. Ayato was pleased with the fact that you had been using his gift for you, as he smoothly took it out of the envelope, thinking that maybe you had captured a nice photo and wanted to share it with him.

And, well, he was right. It was a nice photo, alright. As fast as he took the photo out of the envelope, he quickly put it back in, visibly losing composure for just a second which made the servant who was standing right before his desk, confused.

“Clan Head, is there something…wrong?” The servant carefully asked, looking at his respected Lord, worrying that something must’ve happened.

“No…” Ayato cleared his throat, his voice almost cracking while his other hand gripped tightly on his thigh, internally thanking himself that he sat close to his desk, his raging hard cock wanting to get out of his pants.

“Right. There actually is, I just remembered.” Ayato spoke with fake concern, masking the inner turmoil going on underneath his pants, “Do tell the other staff members that any meetings tonight shall be postponed and moved to a later date. I have some… urgent matters that require immediate attention.” His eyes betrayed no emotion, but the tight hold on his thigh and the envelope speaks otherwise.

The servant was a bit surprised, to say the least. What must be so urgent that his Lord would postpone his important meetings…? But he knew well that he shouldn’t ask more, and the fact that his Lord himself would take care of it surely means that everything would be fine. Surely.

The servant immediately bowed his head and got out of the office, leaving Ayato to himself, who immediately took out your photo again.

And, oh, it was a sight to see. For Ayato, who had been equally frustrated, if not more, seeing the photo of you made him palm his erection through his pants, and he wanted to just immediately rush out of his office and burst in your shared room, however…

Not yet. He looked down at the visible bulge in his pants. Walking out of his office like this would surely be… quite troublesome. He’ll take care of this, and THEN pay you a surprise visit.

Staring at your needy eyes conveyed through the photo, your kimono slipped off your shoulders, pretty tits spilled out, your hand playing with two fingers up your pretty cunt. With your other hand holding up the Kamera, you were laid so beautifully on the bed, the silky sheets making you look so smooth, and he just wanted to be buried inside you, all night, his hand stroking his hard aching cock that he took out of his pants.

And he was so, so painfully hard and needy. Precum spilled out of his tip, and it looked like he was already about to climax with the amount of his creamy cum spilling out, collecting it with his hand and using it to stroke himself faster, imagining it was your cunt fit snugly around his cock.

It was so, so lewd, and you’re so beautiful, his pretty pretty wife. His face contorted with a hint of pleasure, smirking, thinking, his innocent wife is so naughty for doing this as he pumped his cock faster and faster, small groans could be heard, all thoughts of getting caught in his office doing something oh so improper thrown out of the window. His only thoughts were you, and how you would feel around his cock later, and just the thought of him surprising you with a good fuck has him spilling his load on your picture, the creamy thick cum covering it…

He smirked. He would make sure that his darling wife would finally be happy and sated after he comes home, and he will make sure that you’re pumped full of his cum.

And then maybe he can use the Kamera after…? Who knows, he thought, as he wiped himself off with a clean cloth, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief and lust.

You were so fucked.

Moments later, before the sun even went down and the skies casted an orange hue, you were surprised to see your dear husband Ayato standing before you, in your shared bedroom, looking like he just came out of your wildest dreams.

You had rather been caught in an awkward position… You really didn’t think that he would come home so fast! He caught you grinding your puffy cunt against his pillow, moaning and whimpering before you noticed him.

“Well? Cat got your tongue, my dear wife? I thought you sent me that cute photo as an invitation to give me a show, but was I mistaken?” Ayato leaned against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze looked more feral, and you had never seen him like this, and you knew immediately that you were in deep trouble with that slight smirk on his lips.

“I-I just..” You awkwardly removed yourself from sitting on top of the pillow, nervously looking away from his gaze as you sat at the edge of the bed, cheeks dusted with a soft pink color that made Ayato’s cock twitch again in the confine of his pants.

“Had I made my pretty wife miss me too much? Hmm?” Ayato pulled away from the door and slowly walked towards you, his voice a softer, gentler tone that made you look back into his eyes, needy and desperate, nodding with a cute pout on your lips.

Ayato chuckled when he noticed your expression, and you were just way too cute to resist. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry, it seems I have been neglecting you too much.” Ayato murmured softly as he leaned down and spoke against your ear, his hand cupping the other side of your cheek to caress your skin smoothly, kissing you gently at the corner of your lips.

Ayato knew how to make you putty in his hands. The softer, gentler gesture has you looking up at him pleadingly, and he noticed how you squeezed your thighs together, the sound of his voice enough to make you so fucking horny once again, cunt fluttering around nothing.

And he knew the effect that he had on you. He knows which buttons to push, and he knows just how to get you squirming, needy and obedient, like the good little wife that he loves.

“I need you, Yato. Please?” You pleaded, and you knew how he always loved it when you begged, even now as he exhaled a shaky breath, huffing out a soft laugh before he gripped your chin a little bit tighter, turning your face to look at him more directly, cheeks gently squished.

“Since my darling wife asked for it so nicely. However…” You gulped as you stared at him, your mouth practically drooling with your husband’s close proximity, “My sweet, sweet wife should make it up to me, don’t you think so? After that little stunt that you pulled…” He let go of your cheek and pulled out a photo from his sleeve, and you immediately recognized that it was you. “Darling, you know what you’re doing, don’t you? Making me come all the way here just to take care of your needy cunt? What can you say for yourself?” He pulled away, taking a step back with a flicker of amusement in his eyes, knowing just how needy you were for his touch.

And once again, he was right. “I-I’m sorry! I just missed you too much…” Your hands pawed at his sleeves, looking up at him with your pretty doe eyes, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I’ll… I’ll make it up to you. I promise!”

Ayato smiled once again, more so like a knowing smirk as if he was scheming something before he continued to speak, “Really? Would my pretty girl do anything for me?” And you nodded your head, and you didn’t know that it was all it took before you got yourself into deep trouble.

“Good wife. Now get on the bed and lay down for me. Make sure to spread your legs like in the picture, alright, darling?”

Lewd, filthy, squelching sounds could be heard inside the bedroom. Along with your moans and whines, you were already looking so dumb on his cock without even receiving his cock, yet, but his fingers were hitting your sweet gummy spots so deliciously that you lost count on how many times he had teased you to your peak.

“S-sorry! M’ sorry…! C-cum, wanna cum, please…!” You cried out with your pouty lips, tears clinging to your lashes as you looked into his eyes, filled with so much frustration.

How could you not be frustrated? After all, your poor, puffy clit and your gummy walls were endlessly teased by Ayato using his long, slender fingers, smoothly sliding in and out with the copious amount of your juices and slick, hitting your sweet spot so hard that it has you seeing stars.

And then your cunt was clenching again. Ayato watched eagerly as you started to tighten around his fingers again, your face contorting in pleasure with your lips parting in an “o”, an indication that you were so, so close once again. But how could he grace you with a mind-blowing climax when you’ve been such a naughty girl?

It was so, so close, the delicious knot in your tummy about to unravel when Ayato suddenly pulled his fingers out, the climax immediately dying down, making you whine more and cry out, trying to speak despite your heavy breaths, “y-yato-” And Ayato leaned down to kiss away your tears, his hands holding yours gently as he pressed it on the bed besides your head. “I know, my pretty girl. You want to cum, don’t you?” You nodded your head, hazy, teary eyes looking up, whimpering softly.

Looking at you right now, Ayato didn’t think he could get even harder than before. He had also been holding back since he saw the sight of you when he first walked in the bedroom, and even more so now, when his thick cock felt heavy in his pants, aching to fill you up as the scent of your juices and arousal filled his lungs.

“Promise you won’t be naughty anymore? Sending me those lewd pictures while I’m at work?” He let go of your other hand and suddenly gave a light, teasing spank against your clit, making you mewl and arch your back sweetly, trying to speak despite your mushy brain. “P-promise..! I promise…!” You hiccuped, tears falling down to your blushing cheeks, and he smiled with satisfaction as he looked down at you, being so, so good for him.

“My wife. My good girl, of course you promise.” He pressed one, deep kiss against your lips before pulling away, sitting up to remove his pants and pull down his underwear, his thick, aching cock springing out, beads of precum forming at the tip.

No matter how many times you did it, you could never get over his thick size. His cock is so pretty, and just the thought of it filling you up and scratching against the gummy spot has you drooling, your legs parting automatically. Ayato chuckled at the sight of you being so desperate for his cock, tapping his tip repeatedly against your clit, making you squirm.

“Hmm, since my wife promised…” He groaned at the feeling of both of your fluids mixing together, both of your cums making your pussy so slippery wet, his tip catching at the hood of your clit while he rolled his hips, his dick rubbing so smoothly which made you already so much more sensitive, moaning, gasping at the feeling.

Ayato couldn’t hold it back anymore, either. He had waited long enough, and his cock’s so deliciously painful that he felt like he needed to get inside your cunt or else he’s gonna die.

“Take it, pretty. My sweet wife, take it.” And you gasped at the feeling as his cock slid in slowly inside your wet, tight cunt, more tears pricking up your eyes at the big stretch, but your legs locked around his waist, urging for him to move, and he did, as he leaned down once again and whispered sweet praises in your ear. “My sweetheart’s so good- taking my cock so well-” He groaned at the feeling of your cunt suddenly clenching around his dick so tightly when he was finally fully sheathed, his tip deliciously rubbing against your sweet spot.

“Fuck-, you’re gonna be the death of me... You’re so tight, darling, shit-” Ayato couldn’t stop it- his hips moving as if he was an animal in heat, his curses spilling out of his mouth as he became pussydrunk at the feeling of your walls clenching around his cock. He HAD to pound you, to hear your sweet moans, and to fill you up over, and over, and over again-

After days, weeks of being deprived of you, his hips slammed roughly against your tight heat without hesitation, and you loved it, his cock grazing against your gummy spot repeatedly, hitting your cervix as he suddenly grabbed your legs and placed them on top of his shoulders, his cock hitting even deeper inside of you, the delicious friction sending you to an immediate climax.

You screamed and he pulled out with a hiss, grabbing the base of his cock to stop himself from coming right then when he watched the clear liquid squirt out from your hole, using his tip to rub over the clit fast, prolonging your orgasm, your choked moans and whines filling up the bedroom along with the heady scent of both of your arousal.

Ayato didn’t even let you finish your climax- pushing back in immediately while your cunt is still spurting out your sweet juices, his hips moved in a sloppy rhythm, driving his dick back in and out, gritting his teeth while his hands gripped your hips tightly, bending over to lean on your body to put you in a position of mating press.

With your knees pressed against your chest, you watched with your teary eyes as his cock plunged in and out of your sopping pussy, the wet, squelching noises being made as your juices dripped out endlessly, your back arching from the bed, nails scratching his back with the force of his thrusts.

“My wife… Missed this- cunt so much-!” Ayato gasped, whole body already far too sensitive, groaning and gritting his teeth while he looked down at your pretty face, already too fucked out from his cock which made him lean down and kiss you messily, like the way his hips’ intense rhythm started to turn sloppy at the feeling of his impending release.

Teeth clashing, tongues swirling, you tried to kiss back as much as you could while you’re getting your brains fucked out, moaning against his lips as he greedily savored your sweet, sweet kiss. “I’m filling you up, darling. You want that? Want me to fuck my cum into you? Yeah?” He spoke against your mouth with heavy breaths, his hips now moving at a much harder, harsher pace, “Wouldn’t want to waste it, right darling?” and you could barely speak with your eyes rolled back, because you’re creaming all around his length, white creamy ring forming at the base of his cock as he continued fucking into you, his dirty words making your whole body much more sensitive.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He used his one hand to grip your jaw and turn your face to look at his, your eyes hazy, pouty lips mewling as you finally managed to nod your head, speaking along with your cute moans, “W-want it…!” Your hands scratched his back, the sharp stinging pain bringing Ayato so much closer to his climax. “C-cum- cum in me, please…!”

And the last bit of restraint finally snapped. Driving his hips forward one last time, his thick, warm cum flooded inside your pussy, greedily sucking him in as his hips jerked, moaning, face buried at the crook of your neck, filling you up to the brim.

You came around Ayato’s thick length right after he did, but you were already too fucked out to point it out, mouth parted in a silent scream with your toes curled, back arched prettily from the bed.

It took a few more minutes before Ayato finally came down from his high. With a blissful expression, he removed his face from your neck and looked at your face, kissing your cheeks so gently, down to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. “So beautiful. My wife.” He murmured softly with a slight smile, pressing kisses all over your face down to your neck, sucking on a sensitive spot underneath your ear, your body trembling and you whined.

He chuckled after hearing you, pressing one last kiss on the tip of your nose before he slowly sat up, looking at the beautiful work he had done.

Finally pulling his cock out from your filled-up hole, some of his thick cum tried to seep out, and so using his fingers, he smeared it around your pussy lips slowly, his eyes just staring at it entranced, before pushing his cum back in which made you jerk and place a hand on his arm, trembling and whining. “T-too much…”

“Shhh… I know, sweet girl. But you wouldn’t like it going to waste, right? So be good and take it.” He spoke with the corner of his lips slightly curved upwards, amusement and satisfaction in his gaze as he watched your fluttering hole trying to keep his warm cum in, clenching around his two fingers pushing it back.

And once he was finally satisfied…

“There you go, darling. You look so perfect like this.” Ayato mused, staring at your fucked-out face, trembling thighs, your legs spread out with his warm cum slightly peeking from your pretty cunt.

“Now…” picking up the Kamera from the bedside table, he grinned with a mischievous glint and lust in his eyes. “Why don’t you smile for me, darling? Make sure to look pretty, I’ll keep these, after all.”

“1, 2, 3…”

*flash!*

#ayato x reader #genshin ayato #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato #x reader #genshin smut #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #ayato smut

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mercurycft · 5 months ago

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𝐔𝐆𝐇 — 𝐋.𝐖

## reader x leah williamson !! enemies to lovers

hiiiiiii pookies! hope you enjoy this little angsty smutty fic! hopefully ill have some more bits out for you guys over the next few weeks - life is just crazing atm and i spend 99% of my time at work :( anywayyyys - i hope you enjoy this! its a long one - love always - RG x

masterlist here

contains : NOT PROOF READ BC I CBA!!!! angst, enemies to lovers, arrogant!leah, top!leah, oral r receiving, fingering r receiving, caught red handed, foul language.

3.5k words

it's a hot may monday in london - the type of hot that sits at the back of your throat and grabs at your skin harshly. today, you wake up to the day’s first rays of sun peaking through the blinds, a stark contrast to the usual grey, early morning skies. you sigh into the space around you, already feeling sticky and uncomfortable as you roll over, your hand brushing against the empty space in your bed and reaching for your phone to silence your alarm.

you get up - against your will, and begin to get ready for your day. shuffling about your flat, nerves brewing in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of having to walk into work today, you try to distract your mind. taking your time for your usual routine - overly aware that you have given yourself more time than needed.

it’s your first day back to work. your first full and proper day back in london, and you already find yourself wishing it was the last. you loved your job - loved the people you had met; the people who had become some of your closest friends in the entire world. you worked hard, got your degree and that led you here.

well, truth be told you like most of the people you've met.

leah williamson, however, did not fit into that category. she was arrogant, dismissive. the type of woman that always seemed to be looking down her nose at you - like she was better than you. you tried your hardest to like her; to look past her abrupt and oftentimes rude exterior and personality but you just couldn't.

the way she spoke to you, how she held herself whilst she walked around the grounds - god it had you riled up. nerves raging at the mere thought of being in the same room as her for a prolonged period of time. but alas, you had to remain professional.

you couldn't jeopardise your job, your income - to spite a woman who somehow seems to make it her life mission to aggravate and annoy you. so, instead, you smiled sweetly. spoke extra calmly, all in attempted to be the bigger person.

she didn't make it easy for you with her tanned skin and deep blue eyes - the accent which rolled off her lips gracefully and caused a smile to threaten at your lips every time she spoke.

you weren't the best at staying focused, clearly. finding yourself staring absentmindedly into the bathroom mirror, toothbrush still between your lips whilst the thought of her trickled through the depths of your mind. disgust and attraction tangoed in your stomach; rattling around your organs until you finally ripped your eyes away and continued to get ready.

an hour later you were in the carpark, head leant against the headrest and hands still fixed at the 10 and 2 positions. you spent the next few minutes preparing yourself - taking deep breaths and assuring yourself you would be calm and collected from the minute you walked in.

so you were, armed with your bag slung over your shoulder and a ring-binder tucked beneath your arm you entered - smiling at the few familiar faces around you; all kitted out in their newest and finest training kits. they were earlier than usual, some of them having arrived last night and a couple this morning.

in an ideal world, you would've had time to settle into your day before she arrived. but this is clearly not an ideal world. after exchanging pleasantries with the girls loitering in the foyer, you said a brief and collective goodbye and headed towards your office.

through the double doors, round to the right and through the hallway. it wasn't far, but by the time you had rounded the corner your shoulder had began to ache from your bag and the folder had started to jab into your side. you knew the route like th eback of your hand, having wandered through these halls on numerous occasions after the last few years.

so, your head stayed tucked into your phone. too focused on the screen below you to notice the body slumped against the wall beside your office door, or the way it shifted to face you as you neared.

"you're late." you knew who it was before your eyes even lifted to meet theirs.

"williamson, to what do i owe this pleasure?" you exhaled, rolling your eyes out of view when you turned to unlock your door.

"you're late."

"your watch is fast."

this was usually how your interactions went, you tried to keep them to a minimum - but when you did talk, this was pretty much the usual.

"have you had a chance to look over the new schedules yet? i've had them emailed to you." she continued, paying to mind or attention to anything previously spoken.

"oh yes, please come in." you sneered as she followed into the room behind. you flicked on the lights and put your folder down on the desk, along with your bag. they hit the wood with a thud and you turned around to face her as she continued speaking.

"well, did you?"

"considering you just watched me walk in, what do you think?" you threw back with a raised eyebrow and a wide expression.

"arsehole." she muttered as she left, turning away from you like a toddler and almost swinging the door off of its hinges on her way out.

"oh captain williamson how you have hurt me. prick." you whispered below your breath sarcastically, face screwed up in a childish manner as you slumped into your seat with a grumble.

it wasn't always like this, bitter and short. there was a time when you and leah actually managaed to tolerate eachother, you were almost friends. then, when leah suffered her ACL injury - the dynamic did a full flip. she was knocked by the full force of her harsh, new reality. she was angry at the world, angry that the one thing she loved most was ripped from beneath her feet in a matter of seconds.

you, in charge of her recovery, were the closest and clearly most obvious thing to blame - so she did. every set back, every minor issue - was thrown onto you and your apparant incompetance to care for your players, your team. you paid it no mind, plagued with sympathy for her.

you had assumed once she recovered and her time spent rebuilding her strength was completed, that maybe she was ease up. that she would stop the snide comments or glaring stares across the room. you assumed wrong. instead she insisted on acting like a child, everyday. at first you tried to rise above, not letting her have an affect on you but everytime she spoke you felt your stomach physiclaly recoiling; twisting with anger. so eventually, you came to terms with it and you stopped taking it.

——————

the day drags on, your various appointments come and go and you can finally feel the end of the day nearing. people had started popping their heads in to say goodbye's and exchange see you tomorrow's and now it was just you and a few others who remained in the building. today had dragged and the thought of your bed was the only thing keeping you going. it was nearly 6pm when you had finally finished the reports and notes you needed to complete and just as you start to gather up your things the door ahead of you flies open.

“are you taking the piss?” leah. you inhale deeply at the sound of her voice bellowing through the room - careful to remind yourself of where you are.

“hm?” you dont even look up, seemingly unbothered by her presence and still flicking through the documents and papers littered across your desk. you can feel her fume from across the space, the humorous thought of her literally bursting into flames threatens a pinched smile to tug at your lips.

“i’ve been ringing you since lunch!”

“oh, i haven’t noticed.”

“why do you have to make it your daily goal to fuck me off, y/n!” she pauses and a weighted silence brews between you. “funnily enough it’s actually your job to pick up your phone!” she continues, hands waving about beside her. “especially when it’s me calling you! don’t you think that when you see my name flash up, that maybe you should fucking answer. your. pho-”

“no, leah!” your hands hit the desk palm flat with a smack, the fire behind your eyes fuelled by the sting across the skin. she’s loud, but you can be louder. “i dont, because funnily enough, i don’t answer to you!”

after starting you couldn’t stop, eight months of tongue biting and insult swallowing has come back to bite you in the back side - and now, the words came vomiting out with no sight of when they will stop.

“you don’t pay my wages!” you hold one finger up, pointing at her viciously. “you don’t get to come in here and bark orders at me!” quick breath. “you may be ‘captain williamson’ out there, on that pitch.” your finger moves to point out the window at the grassy area beyond the building. “but in here, through that door-” it moves to punctuate your sentence. “you are just leah! and i don’t know what gives you the right to come in here, day in day out and berate me!”

"you know thats-"

"all i do is listen to you speak, and comment and now fucking shout at me! in my office! and i am sick. sick! of hearing your voice ringing in my ears because you think you are better than everyone else! well earth to leah - the sun doesn't shine out of your fucking arse!"

too consumed by the anger radiating between you and the words flying off your tongue, you hadn't noticed how you had now moved from the safety of your desk. instead, you stood no more than a metre before her. skin on fire as you stared into her eyes and let all of the compressed anger bubble to the surface.

you both shared a moment of hefty quiet, chests heaving in sync as you collected your thoughts and your mouth opened again.

"you are rude." a step closer. "you are arrogant." another. "you are nasty." one more. "and you are truly, utterly and entirely a giant pain in my arse." you had travelled closer than intended during your rant, and now you stood inches from her. jaw clenched and breath shuddering when your eyes levelled once more.

the rage you felt overpowered every ounce of logic left in your brain, and you felt a wave of disgust crash over you when you found yourself softening at the smell of her sweet, vanilla perfume.

you were adamant this time, this was the last time she spoke to you like that. of the last time she spoke to you at all, you didn't really care.

"you're a bitch." she spat back into the small and enclosed space between you. you felt your breath catch in your throat as you realise that there may well be a possibility she's right.

maybe its the adrenaline pumping through your veins and intoxicating your bloodstream, or maybe its the way her hair has started to fall in front of her eyes as she heaves for breath in front of you, but t he air feels electric, and you sense the same awareness in her.

without a word exchanged, she steps forward and reaches for you. you don't know what you expected - but instead of pushing you away she pulls you towards her. you stumble slightly, unable to shake off her grip and leaning into her fingertips unintentionally.

there's a pause, a shift.

the air surrounding you suddenly too thick to inhale, grazing the back of your throat as your lungs are deprived of their need for oxygen. her eyes bore into your own, and you're sure, just for a split second - a wicked smirk pulls her lips into a lopsided and overly cocky line.

then she's on you, her lips against yours - fierce, unforgiving. you move with no real method, lips fighting against each other and teeth clashing. her teeth pull against your bottom lip roughly and you hiss, stomach contorting at the feel of her smile against the now sensitive skin of your lips.

you shouldn't want this, this shouldn't be happening. the little voice inside your head, the voice of reason is silenced when her hands move to your waist - gripping at the fabric of your top and leading you backwards towards your desk. your lips don't leave hers, worried if you come up for air you'll miss even a moment of this.

the edge of your desk hits the back of your thighs, and shes quick to hoist you up to perch on the surface. your legs spread and her frame holding ground between your thighs, your hands grabbing at whatever skin they could find as she kissed you feverishly.

her hands roam under your shirt and caress the skin of your back roughly - her soft skin juxtaposed with the way the pads of her fingertips graze across the small area. you busy your hands by sliding up the back of her thighs, feeling the skin uncovered by the shirts she adorns. you drag your nails against her urgently, encouraged by the way she moans into your mouth, her hands gripping your back and pulling your front against her.

begrudgingly breaking the kiss, she trails kisses along your jaw, nipping at your ear roughly with a grunt, and then down your neck. she can taste the salty sweetness of the skin, her own stomach flipping when you arch your neck to give her better access. your hands now wrapped around the back of her neck and twisting into the short hairs that reside there. your breath comes in short bursts as she continues the attack on your skin, hitching when you feel her teeth graze along the skin of your throat and her tongue following in their path to soothe the area.

she pauses as you gasp, her fingertips finding the hem of your top and toying with it before she lifts it up and over your head. you hear a grumble rise from the depths of her throat at the sight of you tucked into a pale lace bra, her hands quick to tug the fabric down and expose your breasts - the wave of air causing your nipples to harden.

you pull her down towards you, encouraging her mouth as she took one in. swirling her tongue around it and sucking gently. your chest rose into her, begging her for more when she bit down softly - a jagged cry slipping past your lips. she continued like this for a few more minutes, working you up with her tongue and fingers as she flicked and alternated between your nipples.

your bliss was interrupted by her hand flat against your collarbones, pushing you down until your back laid flat against your desk - not caring for the way the sheets crumpled beneath the weight of you.

she didn't give you time to catch your breath, instead she continued her path of kisses and sloppy tongue movements down the length of your body until she knelt on the carpet below you. her thumbs dipped into the waist of your trousers and underwear and began to tug them down your legs, her mouth attached to every part of the skin she revealed until she had them pulled down and pooling around your ankles.

she takes the moment to admire you from this angle, the way your skin creases and your chest rises and falls. your hair littering the space on the desk around you and hands firmly clenched beside your frame.

you're too concerned with studying the ceiling above you to catch the smirk settling across her lips again when she notices how you glisten in the light - her face level with your very evident desperation.

the fingers gripping your thighs were warm and strong as if she was trying to permanently transfer her fingertips onto your skin. her hot breath made your skin tingle and your core ache, you lifted your hips up towards her, pussy clenched tightly around the nothingness as your mind filled with vulgar images of her lips wrapped around you, her tongue on you.

as if she could read your mind, her tongue darted out to lick you lightly - her arousal clouding her mind when you moaned, pressing your hips forward into the source of the friction, begging her for more.

"fuck," she practically purred, her voice low and sultry.

she gave in again for just a second, allowing her tongue to lay flat against your clit - savouring the way she felt your clit pulse and throb against her tongue before pulling away and swallowing you entirely.

you don't have time to complain before she's on you again, her tongue teasing your sensitive clit. circling the nerves gently before pulling away with a little suck and then diving back in to repeat the process again. you try to stay quiet, hand laid against your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises that you couldn't fight away. the odd moan or whimper tumbling from your lips cautiously.

completely consumed by the way her tongue flicked across your bundle of nerves, you hadn't noticed when she removed one of her hands from your thigh. you did notice, however, when you felt her push a single finger into you - her pussy clenching around her digit and a guttural moan slipping past the skin of your hand.

your body felt as if it had been set ablaze, every nerve ending on fire, every muscle taut and aching for release. when she feels your relax around her, she begins to move her finger in and out of you, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and urgency. her tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, circling and teasing until you're sure you'll go insane from the need. your hips arch off the bed and your hand grips the edge of the desk beside you, as you meet her thrusts with your own rhythm, breath coming in ragged gasps.

you reach down, gripping her hair tightly, urging her to go deeper, faster. you feel her moan against your skin, her breath hot as it fans across the exposed skin of your pussy. you feel her finger curl, hitting that spot deep inside you that sends shudders of pleasure through your entire body. you're so close, so impossibly close, but you need more. you need her.

you arch your back, lifting your hips closer to her touch as you beg, "harder, please." the words are barely out of your mouth when you feel her press a second finger inside you, stretching you, filling you in a way that feels both foreign and achingly familiar.

her fingers move in tandem with her tongue, curling and thrusting in a perfect rhythm with the hand between your legs. you're lost in the sensation, your mind a haze of pleasure and need. too lost to remember where you are as the coil in your stomach tightens and twists at the pressure of her fingers inside you.

as if sensing your rapidly approaching release, she leans back, her breath hot against your leg. chin glistening with your arousal. "that's it, love. let go."

her fingers move faster when she feels your legs start to shake beside her head as you feel yourself begin to unravel, the tension coiling in your belly finally giving way to a powerful orgasm that sweeps through you in waves. your body convulses, your muscles tensing and releasing as pleasure ripples through you.

you cry out her name, your voice raw and desperate, as you arch your back and come apart in her hands. she murmurs words of encouragement, her breath warm against your skin, her fingers relentless in their pace. and then, finally, she slows, withdrawing her fingers from you, allowing you to catch your breath.

you both sit in an oddly comfortable silence together, inhales mirrored between you both whilst you try and navigate what just happened.

before either of you can speak, or even figure out what to say - the silence is interrupted by a knock against the door beyond you both. you raise up into a sitting position almost quicker than the speed of sound, leah lifting into a standing position between your still-spread legs with a finger pressed against her lips to silence you and wide eyes.

neither of you speaks, trying to breathe silently at the revelation of a body on the other side of the door.

"by the way, this office is not soundproof.." the voice speaks out through the door, their words barely coherent through their laughs. the pair of you now embarrassed and wanting the earth to open and swallow you whole at the presence of your friends outside the room.

"shit.."

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pumpkinpaix · 2 months ago

Text

You have questions! We might have answers.

What is this collection?

As Maria puts it: this collection is a critical look at some of the things that we, the editors, think have made CQL such a hit around the world. Of course, part of that success comes from the webnovel MDZS and the show CQL themselves—we love the characters, the mystery, and the drama, who doesn’t?! However, the authors in our book also look at topics like translating danmei (both officially and unofficially), adapting danmei for new audiences, and interacting with fandoms and fanworks. The larger argument of the book is that all of these things played a huge role in CQL’s visibility and success, and we wanted to start making those moving pieces visible, especially for audiences who mainly watched CQL in translation.

You keep using the word “academic”—what does that mean, exactly?

Maria: Ok, not to get pedantic here, but this actually touches on some things that I’m really excited about for the book. Traditionally, academic work is written by people who have a deep expertise in the subject (signified by having a PhD and doing specific kinds of research), and then the work itself is peer-reviewed (i.e., sent to other experts in the field for them to evaluate whether it’s sound, original, and interesting enough to publish, without knowing who wrote it). And both of these things are true about our book—our authors have deep knowledge and the book was peer reviewed—but also. We specifically asked for chapters from younger scholars and from fans who also have deep knowledge about topics that academia doesn’t always know or value enough, and we include an interview from the fan-translator K. who did the Exiled Rebels translation. So the hope is that: this book is academic, and also—more!

Who are you?

Yue studies adaptation, fantasy, and popular culture texts using a feminist lens. She wrote an early, influential article about danmei adaptations and also has a book about feminist adaptations of Chinese fantasy.

Maria studies fanworks, contemporary fantasy, and genre literature. She’s scrambling to finish her dissertation right now.

How were the chapter spotlights chosen?

Voluntarily! The concept of a small social media promo was kicked around by some of the contributors and those interested in the idea filled out a short interview with what they wanted to share. We'll be posting about 2 introductions and 2 spotlights a day for the next week or so!

Who's running this social media campaign anyway?

Not the publishers! A few enthusiastic collection contributors got together and, with the assistance of the editors, have put this promotion together. We do not in any way represent Peter Lang in an official capacity! We just worked hard and wanted to share. :)

Are you making any money off of royalties from this book?

LOL not even remotely

What about this promotion?

also no. alas

Where can I find this book?

You can find our listing on Peter Lang’s website here. As for other retailers, a quick search should turn us up!

How can I access this book if I cannot buy it from Peter Lang / [book retailer of choice]?

As collection editors and contributors who signed a legal agreement with Peter Lang, we have granted Peter Lang exclusive right and license to edit, adapt, publish, reproduce, distribute, display, and store our contributions, and we must cooperate fully with the Publisher if the Publisher believes a third party is infringing or is likely to infringe copyright in the contribution.

That being said, these are academic papers, which means that contributors may make copies of the contribution for classroom teaching use! (These copies may not be included in course pack material for onward sale by libraries and institutions). Of course, any linking, collection or aggregation of chapters from the same volume is strictly prohibited.

(FAQ may be updated periodically!) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)

#MDZS #CQL #The Untamed #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Catching Chen Qing Ling #CQL academic collection #CQL CFP #Chen Qing Ling #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL meta #MDZS meta

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burnthoneydrops · 5 months ago

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A Shame Indeed (c.b. x fem!reader)

pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: use of female descriptors (miss, young lady, etc)

a/n: Part II to this post for colin! also a continuation of this series! i hope you enjoy and a reminder that requests are open! (both in general and for my 200 celebration :)) )

The Bridgerton drawing room is a wonderful net for beautiful sunlight. At least, that is what you gather while sitting there early one morning, a few weeks into your new role as governess. No main member of the family is awake, just the staff that keep the house afloat. It is rather peaceful, and you are grateful for the moments of solitude away from your room where you have piles of old curtain fabric surrounding you. As you finish stitching two panels of a Hyacinth size dress together, there are footsteps traipsing down the carpeted floor, alerting you of someone else’s arrival. You’re quick to your feet, lest it be a Bridgerton and you appear disrespectful. Though you have gained their trust and appreciation, it still feels as though someone might pull you back out of this dream scenario at any second.

“Ah, good morning Mr. Bridgerton,” you nod, smiling lightly as Colin appears in the doorway.

“Good morning Miss Y/N. It is rather early is it not? Is Hyacinth even awake yet?” He asks, looking down the hallway before walking closer into the room.

“Alas, she is not. I figured wasting time while awake rather silly, however, so here I am”.

“With…” he looks behind you, back at the couch, and his eyebrows raise in confusion as his head tilts to the side.

“Oh, those are curtains that Mrs. Wilson was going to have thrown out. There was a stain on them, apparently, but I have yet to find it”.

That does not seem to lessen Colin’s confusion.

“And what exactly are you doing with them?”

“Hyacinth has been begging to go to the modiste with Lady Bridgerton and Miss Bridgerton, but the focus is on those who need new dresses for the season. So, in the absence of the actual modiste, I figured I could stand in and make her a new dress. It is, however, a surprise so please do not tell her,” you look between him and the curtain, hoping you hadn’t just spoiled your plan.

Instead of verbally responding, Colin drags his fingers in front of his lips and twists an imaginary key, signalling his sworn secrecy. You laugh quietly, before turning to sit back down with your work. Now that you no longer have to fear the undermining of your surprise, you are free to work on it in the open, or at least in front of Colin. As a member of staff passes, Colin orders tea and scones, muttering something about how if the two of you were going to stay awake you might have some fuel. One thing you have learned throughout your few weeks is Hyacinth and Gregory’s love for mischief is rivalled only by Colin’s love of food. You say nothing, choosing to politely nod in agreement instead as you create the puff sleeves of Hyacinth’s dress. The scones and tea are brought quickly, you assume already prepared. You don’t think it will ever fail to amaze you how on top of everything the people who run Bridgerton house are nor the fact that you are now a part of that.

“Do you care for cream or jam first?” Colin breaks the silence, almost startling you.

“Oh, um, do not feel obliged to offer me any Mr. Bridgerton”.

“Colin, please. We did agree to get to know each other on more adult terms, did we not?”

“Well, I suppose we did. But that does not remove anything in the series of respect and class differentials Mr. Bridgerton”.

“Yes, but if I am insisting, and you work for my house, then you must listen to me. Yes?” He looks quite pleased with himself as he pours milk into his teacup.

“Fine, Colin it is. But if anyone asks, you are to inform them of your wishes immediately. I will not have people thinking I disrespect this house voluntarily,”.

“Yes ma’am,” he laughs, “now, cream or jam?”

The conversation carries on easily enough between the two of you, and for a second you forget yourself. You forget that you are inside the previously terrifying Bridgerton home, making clothes out of old curtains and drinking tea with one of your employers. It feels easy, relaxed, and you wish that you could perpetually stay in this moment. The warm sun on your back is the same that makes Colin appear glowing, making his laugh even that more heavenly in appearance. You pause, internally slow blinking and hoping that you’re not physically translating that on your face. You did not just call Colin Bridgerton’s laugh heavenly, did you? You push the thought out of your mind, remembering there is no place for thoughts like that while doing your job.

That is until Lady Bridgerton makes her way into the drawing room and pauses at the sight before her. You notice her before Colin does, standing at attention immediately, dropping the dress down on the couch beside you. Colin stands cooly, walking over to greet his mother with a soft hug and a light kiss on the cheek. You do not think you’ve seen him do anything with much more force than that since your arrival, and you wonder if he is that gentle with every person he meets. Quickly checking that train of thought and registering it unhelpful at this current moment in time, you look back solely at Lady Bridgerton, apologising for the possibility that you had any part in waking her.

“Oh no, my dear, it was not you,” she reassures you, choosing not to question why she found her third eldest and her newest hire alone together, but rather allowing Colin to excuse himself with the claim that he is to meet his brothers for a round of fencing. “May I ask why you have some of our old curtains in your possession?” She asks instead, taking Colin’s previously occupied seat on the couch across from you.

“Oh, Mrs. Wilson said they were to be thrown away and I couldn’t bear the waste of perfectly good fabric, so I fashioned Hyacinth a new dress,” you display the work you had completed during your conversation with the third Bridgerton boy, trying to be prideful but fearing the response all the same.

“How thoughtful of you,” Lady Bridgerton smiles and you secretly sigh in relief. Though you had never pegged Lady Bridgerton to be cruel or patronising in any way, some of your previous employers had not been as kind, so you always secretly fear the worst. Your letters to your mother would describe as such, the growing anxiety that every well-to-do mama that you serve under will be exactly like the last. As much as you continually remind yourself that the Bridgertons are different, those thoughts do love to linger.

The afternoon sun brings a welcome break to your lesson with Hyacinth, who immediately insisted on wearing her new dress when presented with it. She looks lovely wandering around the garden, running across benches in the lightly patterned fabric which makes her easier to spot as well. Though that had not been your intention while making the garment, you have to admit it is a welcomed bonus. That child certainly has enough energy for all the ton twice over, so being easily seen is a necessity when she could run off at any moment. She had been dying to show you what she had observed in Gregory’s dance lesson and requested that you acted as the female so she could take Gregory’s spot. You curtsey as low as you can go before placing your hands on her small frame, bending at the knees ever so slightly so her hands can rest at a comfortable position. With no music to accompany you, Hyacinth takes to counting the steps out loud and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your laughter. One misstep has Hyacinth scolding you, though not entirely in earnest as the situation quickly crumbles into a fit of laughter between you both. The sweet girl sits next to you on the garden pathway, the two of you holding your stomachs as you laugh heartily.

Colin stands at a window a floor above the gardens, overlooking the entertaining spectacle taking place before him. A persistent smile etches its way onto his face as his hands rest behind his back, grateful that you are down there and otherwise preoccupied so as to not witness his very obvious infatuation. He does not entirely know when his thoughts about you transitioned in such a way, he just hopes it is not as obvious as he feels it must be. Soon, he realises he is not the only person watching, as his mother has joined by his side, glancing down at what has captured her son’s attention so.

“She has quite the way with the children,” his mother comments, continuing to glance at the two of you rather than addressing her son directly.

“You chose well,” he agrees, looking quickly at Lady Bridgerton before continuing to smile at the sound of your laugh climbing its way up through the window.

“A very kind soul indeed,” Lady Bridgerton sighs contently, turning then to look at her son. “With a rather large, loving heart as well. It would be a shame to let that go to waste”. With no further explanation, she turns and walks away, leaving her son in the sunlit spot on the carpet, confused. She did always have a way for reading her childrens’ minds, as well as their hearts, even when they could not conjure up their thoughts themselves.

What a shame it would be, he agrees mentally. What a shame.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgeton season 3 #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader

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wardenparker · 7 months ago

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring. Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park. Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.

Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."

“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.

“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”

“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.

He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.

“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”

“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”

“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"

“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”

Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."

“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."

He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.

"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.

Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”

"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."

“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.

"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.

“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.

"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.

“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”

"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."

“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”

"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.

The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.

There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.

The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.

Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.

“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.

“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”

“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”

Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”

“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.

“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”

“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.

“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.

“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”

Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.

It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”

“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”

“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.

“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”

Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.

When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”

"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."

“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”

"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."

Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”

"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.

“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”

Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."

“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”

"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."

“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”

"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.

Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”

"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."

There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”

“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”

“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”

You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.

The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”

The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."

“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”

"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."

“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”

"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.

“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”

The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.

“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”

For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.

Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.

A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.

“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.

"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."

"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."

Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”

"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."

"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."

She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”

"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."

“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”

"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."

Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.

"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."

“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.

"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.

Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.

"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."

“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.

"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."

“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”

Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”

“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.

That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.

“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”

“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”

“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”

“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.

Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.

“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”

"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."

Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”

"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."

“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”

"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."

“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”

"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.

The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”

"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."

“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”

"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."

“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.

"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."

Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”

“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”

“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”

“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”

“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”

“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”

“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.

“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.

"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."

“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”

"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"

“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”

He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."

“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.

"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."

“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.

You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."

“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.

"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.

“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”

"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."

“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.

"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."

“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.

"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."

"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."

“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”

For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.

“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.

“It’s beautiful.” It’s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”

“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.

“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.

“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”

“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”

“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”

“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.

Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”

“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.

“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.

“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”

“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”

“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”

“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”

“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”

“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”

“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”

“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”

“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”

“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”

“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.

“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.

“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”

“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.

"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.

“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.

"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."

Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”

"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.

“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”

When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"

“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.

Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."

“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.

"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.

“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”

"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.

“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”

"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.

“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.

"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."

“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”

"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.

“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”

"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."

“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.

“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”

“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”

“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.

“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”

“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”

“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”

“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”

“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”

“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”

There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”

“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”

“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”

“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”

“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.

“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”

“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”

“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.

“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”

“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.

“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”

“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”

“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”

“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.

Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.

Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.

“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”

"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.

“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”

"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.

“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”

"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."

“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”

"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.

“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.

“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.

“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.

“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.

Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”

“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.

"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."

“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”

"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."

He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”

Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."

He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.

"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"

“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.

"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.

His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”

"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."

“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”

"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.

“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.

"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.

“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”

The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.

“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”

"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."

“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”

"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."

“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”

"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."

“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.

“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.

“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”

“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”

“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”

“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”

“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.

“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.

“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.

“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.

“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.

“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”

“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”

“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”

“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.

“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”

“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”

“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.

“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”

“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.

“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.

"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.

“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.

"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."

You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.

"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"

“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”

"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"

“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”

Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."

“Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”

"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."

“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”

"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."

“So after that birthday��.um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”

"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."

“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.

The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."

“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.

"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."

“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”

"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.

“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.

"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."

“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.

"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.

“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”

Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."

“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”

You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."

“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”

“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”

“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”

“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”

“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”

“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”

“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”

“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”

“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”

“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”

“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”

“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”

“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”

“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”

“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”

“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.

“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.

“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”

He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”

“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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maybege · 2 years ago

Note

Paz with no. 56 please 😵‍💫🥵 you’re amazing!! Thank you!!

Guess who is back, babes! After starting 2023 off with the trip of my dreams, I am finally back home and so so so excited to post this smut prompt. Thank you so much for sending in a prompt! I know it has been taking me a long time but I am honestly s proud of this one, even if it kind of got out of hand but it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it. As always, let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog!

Annual Chances

Summary: Paz chooses you at the yearly festivities.

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, consensual aphrodisiac, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, breeding kink, a whole lot of size kink, verbal degradation, creampie(s), implied cockwarming

Prompts: #56 “I’d like to breed you.”

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Get up, sleepyhead, the invitations are in!”

You sat up, startled from your sleep and still half away in your dreams. There, the sun was shining on your bare skin, warming you from the inside out as you watched Paz play with your children, their laughter echoing through your head even as you saw your friend. Even as the reality you wished for dissolved all around you.

“Chants, what the fuck?” you hissed, unhappy to be pulled from your dreams so early and so roughly.

But your friend did not care, he simply skipped through the doorway, settling down at your side as he thrust a piece of paper in your face. By the looks of him, he had probably been awake for hours already, his job in the healing wings demanding a rather flexible sleep and work schedule.

“The invitations are in!” he repeated, a wide smile on his face, “This is your chance to finally snag that warrior of yours.”

You sat up, trying to ignore how your heart sped up from the mere thought of him. “I won’t be snagging anyone,” you corrected groggily, fishing the piece of paper from his hand, “Besides who knows if I have time to attend ...”

“Oh no, we will not have that discussion at all,” Chants protested quickly, throwing himself you’re your mattress and just barely missing your shin, “You were moping for weeks when you missed your chance at last year’s feast and I am frankly too busy having fun to anticipate having to nurse you back to happiness.”

“I wasn’t moping,” you protested with a pout, “I was just … thinking.”

“About how much happier you would be if a certain warrior carried you off into the sunset, I know,” Chants replied easily and you chose not to discuss it anymore. Perhaps he was right … Who were you kidding, of course, he was right.

You had had a crush on Paz Vizsla from afar for a long time. As soon as your clans had joined together and he had arrived with the first warriors, you had had only eyes for him. And how could you not? He was a fine specimen of a man, tall, and broad, with a deep voice that send shivers down your spine and a laugh that made you wish for a future when you could see his face.

But, alas, your shyness and his high status in the covert did not work well together. You hardly got to see him alone, and sometimes, weeks passed when you didn’t cross paths no matter how much you wished for it. And even if you managed to see him, to be in the same room as him, you were too nervous to speak.

More than once, Chants had suggested that you use the annual matchmaking feast to shoot your shot. Every person of age was invited to the party and it was without a doubt the event of the year. After all, Mandalorians valued their foundlings above everything and any excuse to celebrate what was most likely going to be the date of conception for some future ones was welcome. Countless couples had found together at the feasts over the years and the thought that it could be the day when you and Paz joined was … intriguing, to say the least.

Only that you had been too shy to attend for a long time and when you had finally gathered the courage to go to the party last year, Paz Vizsla had not been there. At the time, you were convinced that he had already chosen someone as his mate and, much to Chants’ dismay, had vowed never to attend again.

But it seemed your friend would not take a no for an answer this year.

“I hate this,” you muttered under your breath, trying your best to ignore your racing heart. Was it possible to throw up from nervousness? Because you were sure you could feel your stomach doing somersaults in the confines of your body.

“No, you don’t,” Chants replied easily, taking a sip of his sparkling drink, “At least the food is great.”

“I could have great food at home.”

“Yeah but not with a view like that.”

Your eyes followed his and landed on a group of broad-shouldered warriors that talked with each other by the bar. Which was ironic considering they all had their helmets on.

That was why, as soon as you had entered the packed hall with Chants on your heels, you had fled to the buffet table. The chances were considerably low and it allowed you to at least try and calm the fuck down.

In the meantime, Chants was happy because your position by the buffet granted him the perfect view of what the covert had to offer.

You tugged at your dress, feeling constricted in the ridiculous gown your friend had talked you into.

“Don’t do this,” he said.

“Don’t do what?” you asked grumpily,

“Don’t self-sabotage,” he said calmly, “You are so scared of Vizsla rejecting you that you don’t even put yourself out there and –“

Your heart clenched, his pointed words finding their target. He knew you too well, or maybe just well enough because you had to admit he was right.

“And what?” you asked, shoulders slumping as you searched the buffet for something to catch your eyes.

“That’s Paz Vizsla coming our way,” Chants murmured, his elbow digging into your middle, “I think he’s coming to us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mumbled, fishing another appetizer from the buffet, “Paz Vizsla would never come to us. He’s way too –“

“Way too what?”

You froze, slowly turning around and looking at the warrior before you.

Paz Vizsla was a huge man, imposing and intimidating even when he tried not to be and with a reputation that followed him from the battlefield to every place he went. It was rumoured that he had never lost a fight before and now that you saw him up close, taking in the sheer size of him, you had no trouble believing it.

“Way too, uh, busy?” you grimaced at how weak your voice sounded.

“Of the two of us, I’d say you’re the busy one,” he replied with a tilt of his helmet, “this is the first year you’re attending the festivities.”

“That’s not true,” you frowned, “I attended last year as well.”

The man in front of you hummed, as if in thought, and you took the opportunity to just … look at him.

Your eyes slid over his broad shoulders to his thick arms and large hands and you found yourself wishing to know what it was like to feel them on your body. Or in your body. Preferably both.

“I’m afraid I was not there for long last year. That would explain it,” he finally said, still looking at you. You wondered if he noticed your stares because he straightened up a little, clenching his fists and relaxing them and the veins stood out. Stars, how could one man be so attractive?

“You know what, I think someone’s calling me,” Chants suddenly said and you were embarrassed to find that you had completely forgotten he was right next to you. What kind of crush was this?

“Of course,” Paz said and you both watched your friend leave in silence, immediately swallowed up by groups of people.

The realization that you were both alone now came suddenly and unexpectedly and you felt your heart skip one or two beats. Because what were you supposed to say now? Here was the man you had been pining after for so long, here was your chance to say something, to impress him, to make him fall in love with you.

“Hello,” you managed to bring out, hoping that your smile wasn’t as wavering as your courage.

He chuckled, low and rumbly and you swore you felt it in your chest. “Hello, little one,” he greeted you, grabbing a small berry in his large fingers. You watched him bring it up and under his helmet, and your imagination ran wild.

Stars, what might it be like to kiss him?

“I, uh, I thought you found someone last year already,” you continued nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of your middle, “Did – did you find someone?”

He shook his head, “It was more about whom I didn’t find.”

“That sounds like you have someone specific in mind.”

“I do.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised at how close he suddenly was. You imagined being able to hear his real voice behind the helmet, “Wh-Who?”

“There are a lot of flattering things I could say now,” he stated, his voice not wavering for a second, “But to make a long proposal very short: I’d like to breed you.“

You thought you were dreaming. You were convinced you were dreaming.

“Me?”

“Yes,” he stepped closer, his hand reaching yours and you were hyperaware of how gentle his rough fingertips were against your skin, “you.”

“And if you were amenable,” he continued quietly, his fingers brushing over your knuckles, “I’d be also interested in courting you.”

You felt faint.

“Courting … me?”

He stiffened, shifting away from you and you immediately yearned for the return of his touch. “Only with your consent, of course,” he spoke, “Please forgive me, if I spoke out of turn, I thought perhaps – I thought you –“

“No, don’t get me wrong I’m,” you hurried to say, “I’m – this means a lot – but, uh, did you take a look around? There are so many wonderful people that you could be interested in and I am just … me … Why me?”

Your hand landed on his and you both froze, looking at where you were touching him. His skin burned against yours and you could feel his racing pulse underneath your fingertips.

“Because I don’t think of any of them when I make myself come at night,” he revealed with a growl and you swore your pussy pulsed at his words, “and I don’t think of any of them when I think about whom I want to raise my children with. I want you, mesh’la, very much so. Do you want me too?”

You could hardly believe your ears. Somewhere deep inside you, doubt was still hammering at your chest in worry. What if you had somehow misunderstood him? What if he realized what a mistake he made when you thought yourself safe?

But just as the worries seemed to creep up on you yet again, you caught yourself, just in time. You deserved happiness. You deserved love. And you deserved these things with the man who stood in front of you, who had told you how he felt for you. Who wanted you as much as you wanted him.

“Stars yes,” you breathed.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice deeper than before, “I couldn’t hear you, little one.”

You nodded quickly, “I – I’ve wanted you for so long, Paz, I didn’t – I never, I never thought you’d think the same.”

“Well then,” he said, his helmet so close you could feel the cold of the beskar radiating onto your skin, “What would you say we go and make this semi-official, mesh’la?”

You grinned. This was a dream come true. Who would have thought that of all people Paz Vizsla, the one you had a crush on would return your feelings? His hand wrapped around your, completely enveloping your wrist and fingers as he tugged you through the crowd. You had always admired how people seemed to just make way for him wherever he went with an unconscious admiration and respect that he had earned. Now, following him as they parted for the both of you was thrilling.

The armourer sat at the end of the room, shadowed by her council as they oversaw the festivities.

“You want to leave us already?” she asked, tilting her golden helmet in acknowledgement.

You felt heady, clutching Paz’s hand like a lifeline. It was all so real now.

“I hope you will excuse us,” Paz said, “we found each other and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Stars know you wasted enough time pining after her,” Djarin commented from his place on the dais and that caught your attention.

Paz? Pining? After you??

The big man shifted next to you, seeming a little shy and you smiled. This was definitely something you would ask him about.

The armourer inclined her head and, from someplace you did not see, a goblet was brought to you. You knew the look of them well, the drink in it was given to every couple that found each other at the festivities. It was some sort of concoction that was rumoured to be especially potent for … you felt heat rise in your cheeks.

Paz lifted his helmet, just enough to take a sip and it felt forbidden to see the sliver of skin, to see how his hand dwarfed the precious metal. Soon, you would feel those hands on you, soon you could feel his skin against yours.

You were so enraptured by the sight of him, it took you a few moments to realize that he was holding out the goblet to you. “Would you like a drink, my love?” he asked you, his voice low and rumbly.

You nodded wordlessly, taking it from him. It tasted sweeter than you imagined, the liquid like honey on your tongue and causing a comfortable warmth in your belly. Almost immediately, Paz’s hand found yours and he dragged you away.

Everything was a blur. You did not see the people you passed, you did not take in the hallways you walked through. Paz was in a hurry and your laughter turned silent when you felt your need for him burn your veins. Was this the effect of the drink?

The hallways were completely abandoned and as Paz passed through the residential quarters, you found yourself curious about where exactly he was leading you.

You got your answer not a minute later.

“These are my rooms,” he announced as he punched the code into the keypad. The door swished open, revealing quarters that looked much warmer than you had expected. There was a giant bed with lots of blankets and pillows and the floor was covered in soft rugs. You could see his workstation completely overladen with files and plans and smiled when you spotted the invitation to the festivities at the very top of the pile.

Feeling his hands on your hips, you turned around with a smile, letting his hands slowly wander over you. His metal forehand touched yours and you took a deep breath in, relishing in the way your entire body seemed to warm at his touch.

“You have no idea how long I waited for this moment,” he whispered, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress and slowly lifting it up. The feeling of his rough fingertips on the soft skin of your thighs chased goosebumps all over your body and you could feel a pang in your core.

“I never dared to dream,” he said, “that you could want me the way I want you.”

“I want you, Paz,” you whispered, your hands shaking with anticipation as you tugged on his shoulder pauldrons, “I always wanted you. Ever since I first saw you I knew it … if it would be anyone it would be you.”

“Good. Because for me it has always been you,” he hummed, sounding happier than you had ever heard him. He took a step forward and you gasped when you could feel his entire body press against yours, “Will you let me show you just how much I want you?”

You nodded, unable to find the words between sheer excitement and the needy pulsing between your legs.

In one quick movement, Paz had freed you of your dress and you hurried to step out of your underwear as Paz’s hands worked on the various buckles and clips on his armour. It was a flurry of movements, quickened by your desire for each other and suddenly you were both standing there, completely naked save for Paz’s helmet. But that was not what you were focussing on now.

“You’re – you’re really big,” you mumbled, taking in his girth. Stars you knew he was a big man but how was that supposed to fit inside you?

Paz chuckled, holding out his hand for yours and you followed his movements. You were both quiet as he guided your hand to his hard cock. “Your hand can hardly fit around me,” he marvelled, his breath hitching as his hand closed above yours. He started to move your palm with his and you watched enraptured as a few drops of precome started to bead at the tip.

Your walls fluttered around nothing at the thought of feeling him inside you and you shifted, swallowing nervously. Your chest brushed against his, your nipples hardening and out of reflex more than anything else did you tilt your head up towards him.

“I cannot show my face,” he said, clearly displeased with the rules, “Not now. Not yet.”

“But I’d like to kiss you,” you pouted, as you continued to stroke him, “I’d like to feel you.”

He hummed, taking a reluctant step back and you wanted to follow him before you saw where his hand went. Before you could say anything, the room fell into complete darkness and you stilled, trying to calm your heartbeat so you could hear what he was doing.

The sound of his intake of breath was unmistakable and you heard a thud, metal on wood, when you realized that he had taken off his helmet. You smiled. Of course. If you could not see him, he could take off his helmet and you could kiss him.

In complete and utter darkness, you reached out your hand only to find the warm skin of his chest. You smiled when his hand came up to hold you against him and moments later his entire body pressed against yours again. You could feel his reaction against your belly and his breath on your face and it was a miracle your brain hadn’t short-circuited yet.

Your noses brushed against each other and you smiled just before you could feel his lips against yours. Paz’s lips were dry and a little chapped but you swore you had never felt anything as heavenly. The kiss started out soft and careful as you got used to each other. But having him so close, the effects of the drink making you all dizzy, you couldn’t keep yourself from wanting to explore him.

You sighed against him and Paz used that to move against you, his tongue bushing over your bottom lip as his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He tasted sweet, just like the drink, and when his teeth closed on your bottom lip, you swore you were this close to coming just from having him close.

Lips moving against each other’s, you let him push you towards his bed, the mattress hitting the back of your knees. You squeaked, falling into the softness and scooted back until you could feel the pillows. Paz followed you, his body heat never leaving yours and when you arched your back, your chest accidentally brushing against his stubbled chin, he closed his lips around your nipple.

All breath escaped you as pleasure burnt through your veins. You just wanted him to touch you, to –

“Ready?” Paz asked you, kissing the spot between your tits. His hands slid up to the inside of your thighs and you were sure you had never been as wet as this moment. You nodded before you you remembered he couldn’t see you.

“Yes,” you whispered, hands finding his shoulders and you held onto him, “I’m ready.”

Paz made a noise at the back of his throat and you could feel him shuffling closer, his fingers rubbing over your folds and you gasped when they circled your clit. You were sure the mattress was already drenched with your juices and you inhaled sharply when you felt the head of his cock carefully part your folds.

He pushed inside you slowly and you gasped. “Stars,” you murmured, resisting the initial desire of your body to move away from him as your hands tightened on his shoulders. His head was not even completely inside you and your walls already felt like they were stretching too far. “You’re huge!”

“Not too huge, I hope?” he chuckled, pulling out carefully and leaving you feeling ridiculously empty. You could feel him pulsing against your folds, drops of precome mixing with your wetness.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to find words. “I – Paz, what if you don’t fit?”

“Afraid your pussy is too small for my cock, mesh’la?” he teased you and you felt heat fill your cheeks at his words, the desire thrumming through you again.

At your lack of an answer, you felt him relax, his legs spreading beneath yours as his thumbs brushed over your sides. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, sweetly kissing your cheek, “I will make it fit.”

He pushed your legs up, his hands large on the soft flesh of your thighs as he pressed them to your chest. “Is that comfortable?”

His hips pushed forward a little and his shaft slid over your wetness. Something snapped in you. “Stars, just fuck me already,” you panted, trying to lift your hips closer to him which resulted in your claves landing on his shoulders for leverage.

He laughed then, a deep belly laugh, that made your cheeks hot and your pussy clench. “Paz ...!”

“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your calf and you felt him shift between your legs, “I will make amends.”

And amends he made when his shaft parted your walls again, slowly but surely, pushing the breath out of your lungs. You were prepared now, for the inevitable feeling of being split apart and you took a deep breath, your blood singing with relief at having him inside you.

Paz groaned above you, his hips starting to build up a fast rhythm that had your hands bunching the sheets. You had never felt so full.

“Can’t wait to see your tits bounce,” he groaned, “to see your belly all round with my child.”

You moaned at the image, walls clamping around him. Nothing sounded better than having him

“I'm gonna fill you up,” he announced between groans, his bed shaking with how deep and strong his strokes had become, “I’m going to put a baby in you and if it doesn’t take today then it will take tomorrow or the day after or the day after …”

Lying helplessly underneath him, you couldn’t do anything but take it. Take his cock, take his words, take the kisses he gently pressed on your jaw and neck.

“Stars, you’re tight,” he cursed, leaning forward and pressing your legs further against you. Your muscles protested and you felt the knot in your core tighten.

“’s too much,” you panted, “please – I – I am so close I –“

“Come for me,” he encouraged you, his voice raw in your ear, “Come for me and I will fill you with my come like you deserve.”

You felt hot and cold at the same time and with Paz’s cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars, it was the closest you would ever come to an out-of-body experience, you were sure. You cursed under your breath, any thoughts leaving your head when all you felt was incredible.

You felt incredible.

“Good girl,” Paz’s voice got you out of your mindless state and you suddenly became aware that he was still very much moving inside you, shaft rubbing along your clenching walls as he seemed to get quicker and quicker until he buried himself so deeply inside you it almost hurt. The feeling of his come filling you was like an aphrodisiac all on its own.

“Oh fuck,” you murmured, your legs still shaking on his shoulders as he slowly pulled out, “That was –“

“Was?” Paz chuckled darkly as he rolled next to you, “I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

You gaped at him, even if he couldn’t see it, “What?”

“What do you think they give us this drink for?” he asked, clearly amused.

“I – I don’t know,” you stuttered, your heart slowly reaching its normal rhythm again, “Heightened fertility?”

Paz hummed, his warm hand finding yours and squeezing, “That, too. But also for better … endurance.”

“Oh stars,” you groaned, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Both of you laughed at that and the happiness you felt threatened to burst out of your chest. The bed moved with Paz as he sat up, you could feel his arm brush against your shoulder and soon, his hand tugged on yours.

You followed his wordless instructions, trying your best to sit up. But his tugging did not cease until you understood what he meant. You raised your leg, attempting to straddle him and it was his other hand that gently held to your knee, guiding it over his lap.

It was impressive how in the darkness, Paz could still find your lips, pulling you in for a kiss. You could feel his heart beat in his chest and you were sure he could feel yours too. You wiggled your hips, causing him to groan against you. Your hands found the back of his neck, your fingertips playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I could get used to this,” you mused, quickly kissing the corner of his mouth and giggling when his hands cupped your tits, his thumbs swiping over your nipples.

“Me too,” he smiled against you, running the tip of his nose over your jaw. You wiggled again, feeling his cock harden between you and even with the mess of your combined juices spilling down your thighs, you felt ready to go again.

“C’mon, ride my cock,” he instructed, the teasing lilt to his voice betraying the grin that was undoubtedly on his face. You could feel his hands between you as he held his cock in position and you tried your best to raise yourself up high enough to sink down on him. But your body seemed to have different plans and the newly required effort to move reminded you just how much that first orgasm had taken you out.

His come served as lube as you sank down on him, your legs too weak to hold up any pretence of control as his cock speared you again. You whimpered, barely holding yourself up on his shoulders. Paz made a soothing sound, his lips on your temple as you tried to catch your breath.

“Go on,” he whispered, his fingers gently pinching your nipples and you mewled when he pulled on them ever so slightly, the pain giving your pleasure a new edge, “Work your pussy on my cock.”

“I can’t,” you admitted feebly, rocking against him. Your legs were trembling so much still and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you, how stuffed you were, how deep he was.

“Paz, please –“

He did not do anything at first but you could feel his knees go up behind you and suddenly he was holding you by the hips. “It’s okay,” he soothed you, his fingers brushing over your skin, “I got you.”

Unable to say anything, you just let yourself rest against his chest, putting your head on his shoulder. He smelled of the woods and engine fuel and the pure warmth of him made your chest flutter. He got you.

You whimpered, hiding your face in his neck as he started to thrust up into you, bouncing you on him as if you weighed nothing.

“You take my cock so well,” he praised you, “What a pretty little breeding toy you are for me, sweetheart, how pretty you sound with my cock stuffed in that tight pussy.”

He had you bounce so strongly, the sound of skin slapping against skin couldn’t be overheard, and yet all you could hear was his panting breath in your ear, the quiet groans, the little praises. They made you clench even tighter around him and you tightened your hold on him.

Needing him more and more, you attempted to move your hips against his, trying to get your own rhythm going to get hom to move deeper. Stars, you needed him deeper.

“Oh, you’re much too weak for that, my love,” Paz teased you, his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your ass before one hand came down in a slap, “Let me fuck you like you need, you can be as cockdumb as you want.”

You smiled, letting him take control again, and kissed the little spot behind his ear. There was a strange sense of happiness you hadn’t anticipated, in knowing that Paz really would take care of you. He would fuck you like you needed, fill you up like you wanted, and you didn’t need to do anything.

You just needed to enjoy it.

“Are you enjoying my cock?” he asked you breathlessly, “Does it feel good to be stuffed like you need?”

“Y-yes,” you brought out, embarrassed by how thin your voice sounded, “F-feels so good, Paz.”

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he growled, his hips surging up in a particularly hard thrust, “Tell me you want my baby.”

You whimpered, the words stuck in your throat when you felt another wave threatening to send you over the edge. It was all you could do to hold onto him.

“Tell me or I won’t let you come,” he threatened, “Don’t you want to come, sweetheart? Don’t you want to be bred?”

His words made you want to sit up but Paz’s hold was as strong as ever.

“Pl-Please come inside me,” you burst out, not caring how your voice stumbled over itself, your despair to come too big to ignore, “Please, Paz, I want your baby, I – please come inside me.”

“I am going to breed you every single day if that is what it takes,” he growled, “Every free moment I have I am going to spend like this,” his finger rubbed over your clit, making you gasp, “Stuffing that pretty cunt with my come.”

Your gasp got swallowed by his kiss as his fingers worked their magic on your clit. “Come for me again, my love, let me breed you.”

And, as if all it would take were his words, you did. You clenched around him, biting your knuckles to keep quiet as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ride the waves of pleasure that washed over you.

“Good girl,” Paz groaned his hips stuttering, “My good fucking girl.”

The praise made you preen. His hands held you down on him and you could feel him filling you again, the sheer amounts of come trickling around where you were joined, squelching sounds mixing with your loud breaths.

“It feels so good,” you breathed once you felt like you could think straight again, “You feel so good.”

Paz hummed, his chest heaving against yours and despite the aftershocks of your second orgasm of the night still feeling prominent, you decided that this was your favourite moment. Here, resting against him, skin to skin, heart to heart, it felt like your world was finally complete.

“I think the drink is wearing off,” you murmured finally, “At least for me.”

“For me too,” Paz confirmed, his large hand settling on your lower back, holding you to him, “Though I am not quite ready to let go.”

“Me neither,” you sighed against him, closing your eyes to listen to his heartbeat.

“Don’t worry, though,” he said, kissing your temple, “We have time.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 4 months ago

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birthday countdown 2024, day 7: bodyswap snippet

it's my birthday next week! and while i'd love to have a new fic to share with you on the day, the fact is i don't have anything ready to post, unless you count the short little notfics i throw out now and then—and if i shine one of those up, it's more of a present for my ao3 subscribers than for y'all.

but i do have a lot of works in progress, so i thought i'd share a couple snippets from my wips here on tumblr!

today, i have for you a bit of mihawk pov from the shuggy bodyswap fic, tentatively titled let's exchange the experience:

Mihawk set the flat of Yoru under Buggy’s chin and lifted, and this pressure he could not use his powers to get away from. He raised his head up, staring at Mihawk without a trace of fear in his eyes. He was defiant, and furious, and… amused? Mihawk knew those eyes. Those weren’t Buggy the Clown’s eyes.

(about 1k below the cut)

Bad enough to be associated with Buggy the Clown on paper. Worse still for the posters, newspapers, and gossip to suggest he was subordinate to that clown. And to be surrounded by his garish aesthetic at every turn—well, that was beyond words. It was too awful to be described. But somehow, being forced to participate in that ridiculous treasure hunt… that was the worst thing yet.

Fortunately, his co-conspirator in this little operation seemed to be fully in agreement with Mihawk. It was with no small amount of pleasure that he watched Crocodile shove the clown face-first into the carpet, the heel of his shoe grinding down on Buggy’s skull and forcing his nose down and out of sight.

Mihawk briefly fantasized about leaving them like this, about smothering the thorn in his side until it was no longer his problem. Alas, it wasn’t to be. As trying as Buggy was—and he was very, very trying—he did have his uses. When Crocodile lifted his leg to get a better angle for the next round of attacks, Mihawk interceded.

“Remember,” he said, the blade of Yoru all that separated Crocodile’s ire from Buggy’s body, “he still has a purpose to serve.”

Crocodile chewed on his cigar furiously for a moment. “You sure about that?” he asked. They could still hear the ecstatic cheering echoing from across the island; Buggy’s loyal followers, inspired by his ridiculous declaration of intent to acquire the One Piece. Almost certainly the biggest waste of time and money Buggy could have thought of for Cross Guild—and with the numbers on his side, there was no way they were getting out of it. “If I haven’t reached my limit by now, I don’t know where it is.”

“We’ll know when he’s outlived his usefulness,” Mihawk said, staring Crocodile in the eye, “when both of us are too furious to hold back.”

“’Ppreciate… your restraint…” Buggy mumbled around a mouthful of bloody carpet, struggling to get to his knees.

Mihawk had Yoru’s edge against his neck in an instant. “Don’t sass me, clown,” he said, walking a slow circle around him, until he was at Buggy’s back and by Crocodile’s side. “I’m not advocating for your life here—just against your death.”

“The nuances are beyond his comprehension, I suspect,” Crocodile muttered under his breath, giving one last kick to the clown that knocked him flat on his stomach again. “But you’re right,” he said, acknowledging Mihawk’s point. “It’s too early to give in to such petty impulses. And besides… if I’m to have any hope of my plans coming to fruition, this childish little venture may provide a decent smokescreen.”

Buggy made another muffled comment, but he seemed to have given up on trying to stand. His shoulders shook as he sniffled—ugh, was he going to start crying again? The emotionality repulsed Mihawk, but he wasn’t about to withdraw. Not until he was certain the clown had conceded—and what had become clear today was that, so long as he was making smart comments, he hadn’t fully given up. Buggy’s shoulders went stiff, then spasmed, and Mihawk realized he’d given the clown too much credit. It was only a sneeze.

On the far side of the room, the former senior officers of Buggy’s Delivery, now occupying reduced positions in Cross Guild, went silent. They exchanged indecipherable looks, then turned as one to stare at Buggy.

Buggy pushed himself up on his elbows, saying, “Oh, ow, that smarts. Did things really need to come to this? Surely…” He turned his head and froze, that bulbous nose not half an inch from Yoru’s blade. His eyes flicked up to meet Mihawk’s, and there was something wrong about them. “Surely, Hawkeyes, we could have come to some kind of an understanding without things getting… violent.”

“You’re the one undermining the understanding we already had in place, clown,” Crocodile griped, stepping forward and squatting down to talk to Buggy on his level. Raising his golden hook to press against Buggy’s cheek, he slid it back into his hair and got the hook thoroughly tangled there. He yanked, to pull Buggy’s head back, and said, “How quickly you forget—” before his words fell away.

Because Buggy’s head had not been pulled back; his hair was still tangled around Crocodile’s hook, but it was a free-floating piece, chopped free by Buggy’s Devil Fruit powers. And his eyes…

Mihawk knew those eyes.

Those weren’t Buggy the Clown’s eyes.

“I was wrong,” he said to Crocodile, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him away from the impossible thing before them. “You should have killed him.”

“Oh?” Crocodile glanced between Mihawk and the blue-haired man on the floor. “Why the change of heart, Hawkeyes?”

“That isn’t Buggy the Clown,” he said.

They watched as the man carefully got to his knees and turned to face them. He sat before Mihawk and Crocodile in a casual, sprawling posture that still managed to radiate unbelievable power. His jaw shifted, and without breaking eye contact he spat out a broken tooth. “Gee,” the man with Red-Haired Shanks’ fearless eyes asked, voice almost cheery, “what gave me away?”

#birthday countdown 2024 #notfic #let's exchange the experience #my opfwex fics #← the overarching tag for my fics inspired by opfwex prompts #one piece #shuggy #cross guild #← the characters not the ship. to be clear.

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miasmaghoul · 9 months ago

Note

Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #a full fic actually but oh well #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain/swiss #rain x swiss #rulti #this is weird ngl #but have it anyway

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madlittlecriminal · 1 year ago

Note

Hiya! It was my 21st on the 17th! Could I get a birthday request with any of the following characters?

Spencer Reid Miguel O'Hara Eggsy Jonathan Crane Hobie Brown.

As always Im a sucker for confession stories and major fluffiness haha

GN!Reader's Birthday [blurbs]

omg happy belated birthday love! i hope your birthday was amazing! i did all of them because i love them all and i couldn't decide.

Warnings: age gap, fluff, mentions of alcohol

note: hi. if you're new, welcome! i typically write my characters soft. any character here that you feel is out of character is because im a firm believer that they are soft strictly for their s/o no matter how grumpy or evil they are.

------

Spencer Reid (established relationship):

With a memory like his, your birthday would always end up in you being spoiled with your favorite things. This year was different since you both were dating, and he wanted to make it extra special for you. Not only did he get you your favorite cake flavor, but he also took the whole week off of work for you, wanting to make it extra special for you. He cooked a dinner for you...but the recipe was wrong, so the food was a bit saltier than anything else, so you both just ordered take out instead and watched your favorite movie on the couch and cuddling.

Miguel O'Hara (friends to lovers/confession):

You were one of the few people he liked, so when Jess mentioned it was your birthday, he mumbled a soft "mierda" (shit) before rushing out of his office and heading to a nearby panadería (bakery) and bought a cake, asking the man behind the counter to write your name on it and rushing back to the Society building. Funny enough, your name was now smeared all over the cake, making you laugh when you saw it. You would thank him, and he'd smile. To you, that was the best birthday gift you could ask for...right? Well, it would've been if Miguel didn't end up turning into a major softy and confessed his love for you.

Eggsy (established relationship):

He would invite you to a pub to celebrate with a few drinks after taking you out to dinner. Naturally, he would tell the waiter that it was your birthday, so the other waiters and waitresses would come out with a dessert and sing the happy birthday song. You were in between wanting to hate him or wanting to love him since he got you a free dessert but made a big deal out of it. At the pub, he'd buy your favorite drink (alcohol-free or not) and would simply just talk to you about his job that you knew had nothing to do with tailoring suits. The night would eventually end with him giving you a ride home and kissing you goodnight.

Jonathan Crane (friends to lovers/confession):

This man was something else. He wasn't sure what to do for your birthday and he was stressed. The one time when you both became best friends, he gifted you the knowledge of knowing he was Scarecrow...but that was two years ago. He was losing his mind on what to do, so he kept it simple and invited you to his place for a movie. He tried baking a cake, he really did, but this man was a whiz in the kitchen of a lab, not of a home. He gave you a shy smile when he showed you the burnt cake and you thanked him for at least trying. Instead, he lit a pumpkin shaped candle and told you to make a wish; he decorates early for Halloween, don't judge him. The night ends with you cuddled up against him after he told you he loved you more than a friend.

Hobie Brown (established relationship):

To say that he confused you in the best way was an understatement. He told you birthdays weren't his thing, but it seemed like for you, he would do absolutely anything. He bought you cupcakes to celebrate and told you his gift would be different than every other year. It kind of saddened you since you loved going on protests with him, but alas, you waited for the gift. When he took out his electric guitar and played a song you didn't recognize with it. Once he was done, you tilted your head to the side, and he told you he wrote it for you as a gift for your birthday. You would then thank him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. You both shared the cupcakes, but you drew a smiley face on his cheek with some icing, causing him to laugh and kiss you softly.

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trulybetty · 9 months ago

Text

03 x snowfall - marcus pike x reader

prompt: snowfall pairing: marcus pike x reader word count: 522 notes: fluff, snow, brief mentions of driving in snow, no use of y/n, reader is a blank slate & marcus being marcus summary: marcus pike is king of the small romantic gestures

x. masterlist

You had hoped that Washington would miss the snow this year. You’d made it past Christmas and into the new year without so much as a hint of snow. You'd even confidently said to a colleague the week before that you thought the city would be in the clear in the run-up to spring but alas, no. February 13th, which added a touch of irony as it fell on a Friday, caused the city to slow down, even affecting your commute to work the following morning.

Saturday morning.

You weren’t supposed to be at work. Your cases had wrapped and you were supposed to be enjoying a lazy weekend in bed with Marcus. One that was well overdue considering his role at the bureau as the newly crowned Director of the Art Crimes department had him constantly occupied. However new avenues on an investigation his team were working meant they were working all hours. It had kept him at the office until the early hours to turn around and go back only a few hours later after a sleepy fumble in the dark and promised Valentine's plans were put on pause.

You'd resigned yourself to a day in bed feeling sorry for yourself, but your own work had different plans. Your law firm was being called for an all-hands-on-deck weekend of work to prepare for prosecution efforts that had been brought forward earlier than expected.

So you'd reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed, grumbling about the unfortunate circumstances. So then with the city covered in a thick layer of snow, ruining your backup plans and creating chaos. It seemed like the weather was adding insult to injury in an already derailed weekend.

There was no way you were driving to work. A combination of your own driving skills, the lack of the streets being clear yet and then mostly the concern of the skills of others on the road, you settled on the Metro to get you to your office.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk from the front steps you locked the door behind you and drew in a deep breath in preparation for the day ahead. You also promised yourself the largest coffee you could legally purchase and the most indulgent treat from Sweet Janes. You spun around on the heel of your snow boot, ready to march determinedly towards the Metro. However, your plans were interrupted by the sight of your car parked on the nearby sidewalk. The once smooth layer of snow covering it had been disrupted by a written note etched into the white powder.

I love you, M.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you imagined Marcus sneaking out in the early hours of the morning to leave the note on his way back to work. Your initial annoyance at having your plans disrupted by both work and the snowstorm was quickly chased away by the warmth of the sweet gesture. Which left you with a little more determination in your steps after you snapped a quick picture and made your way to the Metro station, a little more enthusiastic about the day.

#x29 valentines #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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lycanlupins · 4 months ago

Text

┌─ “ „ EYES LIKE SKY ─┐

Roy Harper x F!Reader - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Cam Girl Au! [+18]

Same warnings apply as Chapter 1 ♥️ ALSO!! This chapter is LONGGGGGG

Your blaring alarm had been going off for the better part of 5 minutes now and you couldn’t be bothered to wake up enough to turn it off. Fuuuuuck. It was so early, too early in fact, and you didn’t want to get up to start your mundane little morning tasks. But you had to, especially because this morning you were expecting your hot neighbor to pick you up. So you begrudgingly make your way to the bathroom, going through the motions of your normal routine.

You make sure to finish off your morning shower with an extra layer of perfume, the kind that you reserved for special occasions and the like. It wasn’t overpowering in the slightest, just a simple perfume that would turn heads if they were lucky enough to get close.

Knock, knock, knock. Shit. He was here just a tad too early.

“In a minute! I’m getting my shoes on!” You call from your room, struggling to tie your sneakers. You rush to the door, slightly disheveled but putting on a smile nonetheless. Opening the door you give him a quick once over. Jesus he’s huge.

“You ready to go?” He smiled, and by god it was infectious. He had the most gorgeous dimples you weren’t able to see the night before. You were floored, how was anyone allowed to look so effortlessly hot. And in gray sweatpants no less.

“Hello? You there?” He waved his hand in front of your face to try and get your attention.

“Sorry, I guess I’m not awake just yet.” You sheepishly reply.

“Yeah I can tell, let's go get you that coffee.” He moved from in front of the door to give you room, your mind barely processing how to move your legs forward. You locked the door to your apartment and took a deep breath, hoping the coffee would take your mind off of things.

In the time that you locked your door and turned around, you caught him staring at your hands. Embarrassingly, you hadn’t done your nails in a few weeks and they looked sort of wonky, chips on the polish and gems missing from the design.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, they look awful right now. I have an appointment to get them done, don’t look.” You quickly hide your hands away in shame.

“No you’re totally good I just…they look so familiar. I’ve seen that design recently somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.” He shrugged after a few moments of deep thought and started to lead the way outside and toward the coffee shop.

Your face instantly lit up at the sight of the shop, you had been there so many times before, you even had a favorite barista. But alas, he wasn’t working that day, something about a family emergency. Oh well, you could still enjoy coffee with the hot man at your side.

“Shit, I gotta take this call. Can you order for me, I just want a black coffee.” He looked desperate to take the call so you obliged, a bit sad but you weren’t on a real date so it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, but it still did in your mind.

You ordered and waited by the pickup area, watching him as he excitedly answered the call. He even turned on facetime but you couldn’t catch a glimpse of who he was talking to, again not that it mattered…but it did. Once the call ended, you could tell he was a little sad when he walked back into the shop.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine!” He completely ignored what occured on the phone, grabbing his coffee once it was placed in front of him.

“Wanna get a seat?” He asked. You simply nodded, pushing his phone call to the back of your mind. The rest of the “date” went without a hitch, some light flirting here and there but nothing too serious.

You could sense tension on the way back home, what kind you weren’t sure, but you fully intended to find out if it was the kind you could get behind.

“It's still kind of early, don’t you think? Do you maybe want to come inside and hang out?” You unlocked your door, standing under the door frame.

“Uh…” he looked down at his phone, texts from someone undecipherable to you rolled in at a steady pace.

“Sure, I’ve got some time.” Something didn’t sit right but still, you pushed through. A bad feeling wasn’t going to get in the way of you getting what could be the best dick of your life.

The second you closed the door you rushed to your bedroom, forgetting the state of disarray you had left it in from last night.

“Give me a few minutes!” You slam the door, assuming he’d find something to keep him busy while you cleaned. And find something he did, he got to work fixing a few stray wires hanging from your TV.

Once you were done changing the sheets and packing your cam setup away in a bin, you headed back out to the living room where he had somehow managed to fix the TV connection.

“I’m not even going to ask how, but thank you. The repair guy was supposed to have come by weeks ago to fix the issue.” You plop down on the large sofa next to him.

“Consider me your new repairman.” He chuckled, handing you the remote and placing both arms behind his head. Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph his arms were massive.

You were practically drooling at the sight, they were perfectly flexed and distracting you from your task at hand. Not that it mattered anyways, you were just putting on a movie.

“Eyes on the screen doll.” He shook his head and smiled, not once did he take his eyes off the TV. How the hell did he notice you staring? You couldn’t think straight so you put the first thing that came to mind; a horror movie. Nothing in particular, something that just popped up on your suggested tab.

“Horror huh? I didn’t pin you as the type.”

“It’s the first thing I could think of honestly.” You scooted a bit closer to him, trying to gauge his comfort.

“I know what you’re doing, just come here.” He relaxed his posture, giving you room to curl up by his side. His smell was intoxicating, something akin to fresh rain and cold air was the best you could describe it. It comforted you deeply, enough to lull you into taking a quick nap.

When you came to, the movie was still playing and he was also fast asleep. Fuck he’s cute when he sleeps. You thought, his brows scrunched just slightly made him look like he was pouting in his sleep.

But, you didn’t stay for long, you had to get up and change into something more comfortable. You grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a large tee out of the clean clothes basket by the hallway closet. You figured since he was still sleeping you could quickly get back in and snuggle once you were done.

As you bent over to pull your pants back up, you heard a shift and a groan behind you. Shit. You froze immediately, what else were you supposed to do when you were half naked?

“Ain’t that a sight to wake up to.” He chuckled. You could feel your face heat up, trying to pull your pants up as quickly as possible.

“There's no use, I already saw everything. But, I’ll cover my eyes, scout's honor.” He immediately covered his eyes, giving you time to finish changing. But now you had a choice, two little beings on your shoulder telling you what to do. Take the safe route and finish changing, or…who were you kidding, you knew what you were going to do.

You quickly ripped off your top and immediately straddled him, taking his hand and placing it around your neck.

You watched him for any sort of reaction, a smirk playing on his lips. You could feel him getting hard under you and that only served to make you emit a light moan.

“Shit, you look good enough to eat.” He let his other hand ghost against your skin, grabbing and pulling at the mismatched lingerie you had underneath.

“Do you want to spend the night?” You could see his gears turning, his hand stopping at your ass.

“Fuck it, why not.” He picked you up with one arm, your legs immediately straddling around his waist. He only got a few steps before he needed to pin you against the wall. He was desperate, you could tell from the way his cock was throbbing through his sweats.

“I wanna be a gentleman, fuck you on your bed like a proper man should, but I can’t even think straight. I just want to be buried inside you like it's a necessity.” He growled in your ear, his whole weight pinning you against the wall, your breathing in sync with his. Both of you were taking big heaving breaths as if you had run a marathon.

He used one free hand to quickly undo your bra, sliding it off with ease. The sight of your exposed breasts was enough to send him over the edge. He slipped your underwear to the side and pressed a finger against your slick cunt. Your brain was going haywire, not one coherent thought forming.

“In…put it in please.” You could barely form sentences but it was enough to give him consent to touch you the way he wanted to. He slipped a thick finger inside and immediately you saw white. How the hell does his finger feel that good, not even your vibrator could do that.

“You still there princess?” He tried to bring you back to consciousness. When he started to pull his finger away you whined, giving him the okay that you were still there mentally.

“Had me scared for a second there. Thought I hurt you.” He chuckled, teasing a second finger. You wanted it, you wanted it bad, but he wouldn’t give it to you. He pulled away, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean, only to kiss you right after.

Fuck fuck fuck. Why was that so intimate? That was the single most hot and intimate thing you’ve ever experienced. But you couldn’t focus on that anymore, not when he was pushing his boxers down and exposing his cock.

“That’s not gonna fit inside me. There’s no way.” You said plainly. It's not that it was insanely huge or anything but you were used to 6 inches, that’s the size of your dildo anyways. He was somewhere far beyond the usual thickness of the plastic you were used to and you were afraid nothing would ever compare.

“We’ll make it fit, won’t we?” He lined himself up at your entrance, his head sliding in with ease, slowly pushing farther and farther until he was fully pressed against you.

“Oh my god.” That’s all you could say, your mouth wouldn’t allow for anything else. You could feel your walls stretching and squeezing around him, forming to his size. You fit together like perfect puzzle pieces and you both knew it. After sitting in silence for a few brief moments he started to move, slowly at first.

“Shit doll…you’re sucking me in.” He could barely pull out, not that he wanted to anyways, he was feeling pure bliss. Your plush walls felt like heaven to him and he never wanted to leave.

“Don’t…Don’t leave please. Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m gonna stay right here.” He replied, his thrusts slightly speeding up. He wanted to fuck you relentlessly, it took all of his strength not to put you down on the floor and fuck you like an animal. But he resisted, he knew he wouldn’t last if he gave in.

Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling every time he managed to hit that lovely little spot that sent what felt like electricity through your body. The sounds in your apartment would put porn to shame, the skin slapping, his moans mixed with yours, it's surprising no one came knocking to tell you to shut up.

You felt his hips stutter for just a second, you knew what that meant. He was getting sloppy, he needed his release and you were damn sure you could feel yours brewing.

“I’m on the pill, you’re safe.” You reassured him. That only served to make him chase his release more, thrusting into you relentlessly. With every thrust you felt that coil within your lower stomach grow tighter and tighter until—

“Oh fuck! Roy!”

You felt your whole body tighten, his cock buried all the way inside you as his warm, thick cum coated your walls. It slowly dripped from you as he pulled out, leaving you empty.

“Let me uh…clean you up? Where do you keep your towels?”

“In my room, there’s a basket by my bed, just grab one from there.” You slowly slumped down against the wall, catching your breath as he ventured to find a towel.

Wait. Your cam stuff was under the towel by your bed. Shit shit shit. You quickly hop up to your, wobbly, feet and run into the room only to find him staring at the stuff beneath.

“You didn’t tell me you were into some kinky shit.” He said. Oh thank god he’s dumb.

“Ha, yeah. It’s just fantasies of mine really, nothing that would come into fruition.” You quickly pushed the basket under your bed and tried to clean yourself up the best you could.

“Shit.” He looked down at his phone, and sighed.

“Raincheck on the sleepover, I have to head home.” He kissed the side of your head and cleaned himself off before getting dressed.

“We should really get coffee again some time.” He said, just before heading out the door. You smiled, albeit a sad smile. You watched him leave as you changed back into your sweats and tee. Something in you wanted to watch his window, see what he was up to after what just happened. Complete and utter silence. No movement. Until moments after he got back home he bolted to the door, figures appearing as shadows in his window. A woman.

“Oh.” Was all you could muster before turning away from the sight. Surely he hadn’t played you right? You tried to put it out of your head, it was mid-day after all, there was no point in sulking for hours on end. You gathered yourself, turned on another movie and logged on to your cam chat. A new user appeared, someone you had never seen before.

[bigred]: hi there, i usually lurk around your shows but i decided to stop by and see if you were coming online today.

[seraphicsiren]: i'm not too sure i will, sorry.

bigred bought a private show.

Shit.

#roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper x you #roy harper smut #dc smut #my writing

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

Note

Knowing this (your) horny cult circle someone else is going to point this out as well, but referring back to Naiad Dream inhabiting a Holy Water Spring AU, the words "Parting Gift" are the two magical words that I will ALWAYS associate with....BABIES❤️❤️❤️ Thinking about Hob who DID spend the night in the Spring, who promises to return after one full turn of Summer, and two weeks after he left Dream finds out hes pregnant!!!

Hes ecstatic about them! He left his family to find and make his own home centuries ago and hes SOOOO happy to make his own right here! He has a hunch they will be twins; his own mother had twins after all, and Hob spent so much inside him its probably impossible it's anything else. He even dares to hope that if Hob returns to him in a year's time-he would have already had the babes by then-he would be able to persuade the man to stay, maybe make him a naiad himself so they can stay together forever and ever ❤️

If youre inclined to happy endings, that COULD happen. If youre in the taste for some conflict...maybe Erasmus Fry could have found pregnant Dream bathing with his guard down, captured him Calliope style (and Calliope reasons; muse and sex) and now Hob has to find a way to save him somehow?

This is actually so incredibly smart!!!! I love the idea of an accidental pregnancy, either Dream gets metaphysically knocked up just from Hob having a bath in his pool OR they actually get down and do the dirty... and oopsie there's a baby! Or possibly babies. Dream wouldn't be surprised.

Dream spends the whole time thinking about how lovely its going to be when Hob returns and finds a little surprise waiting for him. The pregnancy itself isn't easy on him, alas - the babies are half human, and Hob isn't a small or delicate man by any means. Dream’s naiad body has a difficult time adjusting, and he spends most of his time floating in the water of his own pool, trying to get comfortable.

Poor Dream! It's even worse if he does get kidnapped. He hates being taken away from the source of his power - he has to wait and hope that Hob comes to get him, hopefully before he gives birth. Fortunately Erasmus Fry has no interest in his body yet but he's constantly asking Dream for little favours and making lascivious remarks and Dream just knows that when he's given birth everything is going to get so much work.

Of course Hob comes in to kick to the shit out of Fry and to rescue his beloved naiad. He wasn't planning to return for a whole year but he got a terrible feeling in his heart that he should go back early - and when he finds Dream’s pool empty and clear signs that he was taken against his will, he knows why. He wasn't expecting to find Dream so pregnant, so close to his due date at this point, and he does some speedy mental calculations to work out that Dream must be carrying his child(ren). He carries Dream right back to his sacred pool, and they both get into the water where Dream immediately feels much better. He tells Hob all about what happened, cuddled up about his chest and still a little bit shaky. He always knew that Hob would come for him, but it was still terribly frightening.

The babies at least give him a few days to adjust to being home before they make an appearance. Hob is there to help and welcome their children into the world when Dream gives birth in his own beautiful, clear water. The proud parents cradle their little ones and cover them both in kisses, and of course Hob immediately knows that he's not going to be travelling again. He's come home at last, to the family which he will love and protect with all his body and soul.

#iprefertheterminsane #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw mpreg #cw pregnancy #cw kidnapping #cw birth

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seenoversundown · 10 months ago

Text

Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 3

Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Warnings: Cursing and some light bickering, otherwise a lot of bad luck.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit lighter on the word count, but take it as the calm before the storm 😉 (next week may or may not be a long one)

Boston - Augustana "I think I'll go to Boston, I think I'll start a new life I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather"

My blaring alarm clock jolts me from my sleep. It should be illegal to need to be awake at 4:30 a.m.; even Penelope lets out a little “boof” in protest. I rub my knuckles across my lids, trying to wipe away the sleep.

“You and me both, Penny girl.” I whisper into her fur, gently petting her face, “Rest a little longer, and then you get to go see Uncle Daniel.” Alas, I have a train to catch. I can't take the chance of driving Edith all the way to Boston. I don't even think she’d make it to Portsmouth at this rate.

Lethargy is so heavy in my bones as I drag my body to the shower. The scalding water helps to wake me up, but not enough. God, I need coffee. Regret fills me as soon as the water is off and the cold air attacks me once again.

After I quickly get dressed, I hustle through the rest of my morning routine, trying to ensure I stay on time. Finally, I wrap my scarf around my neck and knot it before slipping on my coat. “Okay, headphones, bag, camera, keys,” I mumble out loud, mentally checking things off my list. “Time.” 5:02am. At least I’m on time, calling out “Penelopeeee” in a sing-song tone. She comes running from around the corner, jumping up on me. “Woahh, down, girl.” I hook her leash onto her collar and lead her out the door, closing and locking it behind me.

It's only a short walk to Daniel’s apartment, and the morning air bites at my face. I pull my scarf up a little higher to cover the lower half of my face. My breath heats the fabric, a small salvation. Piles of snow where it had been plowed into snow banks still present, the sun not yet strong enough to melt it this time of year. Let alone this time of day. Penelope stops to sniff just about every flower she comes across, delaying my trip.

I march up the brick steps, and the porch light flicks on, allowing me better vision. The sun won’t make an appearance for another hour or so. I wrap my knuckles against the wooden door a few times before Daniel opens it. The sight of him causing me to chuckle.

“Good morning, sunshine.” giving him a beaming smile. If looks could kill, I would definitely be dead. Sweatpants slung low on his hips, fuzzy socks on his feet, no shirt on, and curls in complete disarray. He shivers when the breeze crosses the entryway.

“Of course, this is the one time you’re actually on time,” he whines. “Did you honestly have to leave so early?”

“Unfortunately for us both, Daniel, yes. There was only one train into Boston that would get me there on time, and I can’t be late for this. Miss Penny has already gone to the bathroom, so that should give you a few hours at least.” I hand him her leash and she enters the house. “As much as I would love to stay and chit-chat..” trailing off as I turn to head back the way I came.

“Come on, Penny girl, at least we get to have a cuddle. We’ll get out of Daddy’s hair so he can join the world of the employed.”

“Very funny, Asshole,” I call over my shoulder, flipping him off.

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If I was smart, I would have started Edith before I left to drop off Penny, giving her time to warm up and the frost to melt off the windshield; apparently, I have chosen the path of idiot this morning. I sit in the cab, turning the key repeatedly, and she won’t start. Panic rises in my chest, listening to the sound of the engine refusing to turn over.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I grunt out, “not today, not today.” I pause and take a deep breath, exhaling through my nose, creating a cloud in the chilly air. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” I turn the key once more, and her engine roars to life. Breathing a sigh of relief, I rest my head against the steering wheel, “oh, thank god.”

I speed off toward the train station, not wishing to waste any more time.

When I arrive, the train is already stopped, and boarding. “Oh fuck” I breathe out. Grabbing my bag and rushing to the platform, I nearly slip on a patch of ice before I make it. But I do make it. Just before the crew member shuts the doors. I breathe out a sigh of relief for the second time and find a seat in the back of the economy car I paid for, a double seat. The closer we get to the city, the busier it will get, and I don't want to have to worry about sitting near a bunch of passengers.

Jesus Christ that was cutting it too close. I wait for the train to start moving before I pull out my AirPods and put them in my ears. I scroll through my playlists looking for the right thing for this trip. Finally settling on a song, I click play. The song sounding muffled when I realize that it’s playing from my phone, shit. I turn the volume down as quickly as possible, trying to keep my eyes on my phone as I feel everyone around me look over. What is in the air today? Letting out a sigh as I pull my AirPods back out and place them back into their case. I drop my head back against the seat, close my eyes, and just listen to the sound of the train moving.

I jolt myself awake with a small gasp. Please tell me they didn’t leave me on the train, and now I’m in Canada or something. I tap on my phone, 7:55 a.m., Thank GOD. Only a few more minutes and the train is slowing into the station.

I finally make it off the train, and I’m trying to hustle through the station until I see a Dunkin sign glowing at me. My stomach grumbles as I look at it; I can grab something.. I’ll definitely make it still.

“Can I get a medium hot caramel swirl latte with oat milk and the bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel.. But no bacon, please?” Met with a simple ‘mhm’ from the cashier. I pull out my phone to pay, and seeing 8:10 a.m., my stomach feels nervous again.

It only takes a couple minutes before my name is called. I grab everything and practically run through the station to find the exit. I finally make it outside and check my maps to see where I’m going, grateful that it’s not too far from here. I slide my phone back into my pocket; I only need to walk a few streets down. I carefully pull the sandwich out of the bag, excited to eat something after the morning that i’ve had. Fuck me; I see the fleshy piece of bacon sticking out as soon as I peel the wrapper away from the bagel. I stare at it for a minute, trying to decide if it’s worth the hassle of pulling the bacon out. Deciding against it, god forbid it makes my stomach feel worse while I’m here, I toss the sandwich at the next trash can I pass and take a huge gulp of my latte, hoping it fills my stomach a little. Thankfully, my drink is perfect, and at this point, I’m going to take whatever win I can get. For the love of everything holy, I need the rest of today to go smoothly.

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The building is easy enough to find. I thank the lucky stars that at least one part of this journey wasn't difficult. I open the heavy metal door and head up the steps to the main floor toward the elevator. A plaque sits between the two elevators above the recall buttons. “Boston Globe - Floor 4 Suite 213.” I take a deep breath and press the arrow pointing up. I can feel the nerves in my belly, like butterflies buzzing around. Little wings flapping, sending gentle ripples of unease through me. I can’t mess this up. I have to make a good first impression. Working in conjunction with two major newspapers in different states is a big opportunity. It would put my name in the minds of people who could help me break into this job market. One I’ve been trying to work my way into since I graduated. This has to be it. The elevator dings, and my heart skips a beat, setting my nerves on edge even further.

Once the elevator arrives on the 4th floor, I step out looking for the closest suite number to gain my sense of direction. I solidify my bearings and head toward the right. A few doors down is 213. I open the door and the first person I see is a petite blonde woman. I scan the room; everyone is staring at me. Oh, this feels awkward.

“Hi, Can I help you?” her voice is high like I expected, but much quieter.

“Uhm, I’m looking for James Boucher with the Boston Globe?” My eyes dart back and forth between her and the rest of the people still looking at me. I wring my hands together, trying to satisfy my uneasiness.

“Oh, Jimmy is down the hall. They moved his office, and it hasn't been updated downstairs yet.” Just another thing to go wrong this morning, naturally. She walks over to me, places her hand on my arm, and points me down the hall. “It's suite 222. Also Call him Jim, not James and it's ‘bou-shay’ not ‘bou-sher’. He’ll like you 10 times more if you can get his name right. You’re gunna do great.” She says sweetly, squeezing my arm. “Good luck!”

“Thank you”

I walk down the hallway, pulling my phone from my pocket and double-checking the time. Still early. Thank god. Knocking on the door and twisting the handle ,I greet the front desk girl with a wave. A pretty brunette smiles back at me. Does everyone who works here have to be pretty?

“Hi, I’m here to meet with Jim Boucher. Am I in the right place?” I say nervously.

“You sure are, sweetheart.” Her southern drawl makes her that much more attractive to me. “What’s your name? I’ll get ya checked in.”

“Samuel Kiszka.” I lean against the counter, glancing down at her nameplate. She clicks a few buttons on her computer and then rises from her chair.

“Right this way, Mr. Kiszka.” She extends her arm pointing us in the right direction.

“Sam is fine. Daisy is a very pretty name, by the way. Like the flower?” I ask, smiling gently at her. A blush forms on her cheeks. She drops her head a bit, I can no longer see her dazzling blue eyes. She’s much shorter than I am, even in her heels. I shorten my stride so she doesn’t have to work so hard to keep up.

“Thank you. I was named after my grandma, and she was named after the flower. Mamaw Daisy was the sweetest, just like her pie. Oh, she made the best apple pie I’ve ever had.” She looks up at me then, eyes bright and hands clasped together.

“I’ve been trying to replicate her recipe and I think I have it close. Uh, just this way.” She instructs us to take a left; the windows on the right cover the wall nearly floor to ceiling.

“Well, maybe I can try a slice sometime.”

She stops then and looks up at me. “Uhm, this is it,” pointing to the door.

“Thank you for the escort, Miss Daisy. I surely would have gotten lost without you.” She giggles and opens the door. The room is smaller than I anticipated. A few tables are set up with chairs. There are already a handful of people here.

“Hi, Mr. Boucher. This is Sam Kiszka. He’s here with the Portland Press Harold, from Maine.”

“Thank you, Miss Thompson, that will be all.” He waves his hand, dismissively. Her face drops a bit in disappointment. Before she closes the door, her eyes find mine with a small smile, which I match.

He doesn’t acknowledge me at all. His eyes never rise from his folder. Am I supposed to stand here or take a seat? No, I should definitely introduce myself.. Right? First impressions and all.

I gently clear my throat. “Sir?” Once again, he doesn’t move. I wait. When he finally finishes what he’s reading he looks at me.

“Sam Kiszka, Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand, which he takes, apprehensively. He’s a man of few words from what I can tell, so I do my best to convey my character through a strong handshake. He nods at me and juts his head toward a table, motioning for me to take a seat. I’ll take that as a win.

As soon as I take my seat, a familiar face enters. Her short, brown bob was perfectly tucked behind one ear. Paired with her petite stature, it gave her a bit of an elf-like appearance. She played with the proportions of her outfit to look taller, wearing khaki-colored high-waisted slacks for height along with brown heeled boots, and a tan button-up sweater tucked in. A delicate blue pattern across the top accentuates her chest and gold necklaces worn in tiers to finish it off. She looked beautiful. Why is she here?

I watch her as she introduces herself to Jim, who doesn’t really glance at her either, which makes me feel a bit better before she takes a seat on the opposite side of the room. At least it’s not just me. Daisy catches my vision, and I can tell she’s taken notice of me staring at.. Her. I offer her another small smile before I watch her close the door and disappear once more.

“Alright,” Mr. Boucher announces, grabbing everyone’s attention. “As you all know, since you signed up for it, The Boston Globe is partnering with a few newspapers in New England. We want to run a feature on what makes each state in New England special. That’s where you all come in. There are 2 candidates from each state. That’s your partner for this project, so get used to them.”

Oh god. This experience is about to go from amazing to horrific for her as soon as she finds out I'm here.

“Presentations will be on Monday, so you have a few days to do what you gotta do. We’re working with the San Francisco Chronicle as well, which means that the 3 teams that best represent their state will be flying out there Tuesday. So, if you have plans next week, cancel them.”

Looks like Jake will have to find someone else to help cover the bar this week.

“Ah shit, let me take attendance.” He grumbles, searching for the correct paper on his desk. “Here we go, let’s start from the top with Maine - Willa Clarke?” my eyes immediately shoot over to her. Willa is a pretty name. It suits her.

“Here, sir,” she raises her hand. She tilts her head to the side in anticipation. The red undertones of her hair catch the light when she moves. Okay, Sam? Calm down.

“Great,” glancing down at his paper again. “Willa, your partner is.. Samuel Kiszka?”

Clearing my throat, “Uh Here.” I raise my hand. Her eyes finally meet mine, and immediately narrow.

Annnnd, there it is.

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A few hours and a lot of paperwork later and I’m sitting opposite Willa at a table in the cafe downstairs. She’s been glaring at me over the top of her latte for 10 minutes without saying a single word to me. Slowly sipping. Intently glaring. Not speaking.

I wait.

And then give in.

“Are you stalking me or something?” narrowing my eyes back at her.

“Excuse me?” Her incredulous look is not surprising.

“I mean, I go to the farmers market and you’re there. Poking me. I go to my brother’s bar and you’re there. Then I show up here and.. Oh yeah.. You’re here. Logical explanation would lead me to believe that you’re stalking me.” Curiosity becomes me as I wait for her answer.

“I feel like you’re failing to take into consideration a key piece of information here, Salmonella,” She says, piquing my interest. I debate if I should be offended by her use of a nickname or not and settle on the latter. Why let her get under my skin when I can get under hers?

“Aw yeah? What’s that, darling?”

“Okay.. ew.” disgust paints her face as she waves her hand out in front of her. “You speak as if you’re interesting enough to stalk.”

“Ah, such a blow to my ego,” Rolling my eyes dramatically. “Someone who spends her time jabbing strangers and yelling at them when they try to help her doesn’t think I’m interesting. Whatever will I do?” She scoffs loudly and crosses her arms, turning to face her body to the side toward the windows. “I should just roll over and cease to exist right now.”

“Help me? How have you tried to help me?” She asks in disbelief. Of course, she wouldn’t view my actions on Saturday as helpful. Or nice or kind in any capacity. I swear she's incapable of thinking I’m nice.

“When I told you not to bother with Chad Von Doucher-son, which you yelled at me for. Or when I offered you a drink on the house when he ditched you. A peace offering, again which you yelled at me for.”

She huffs. “What about you then?” Raising her eyebrows at me. “ Since we’re in all the same places or whatever. Are you stalking me?”

“Oh, I’m simply incapable of giving you that pleasure.”

A wicked laugh escapes her. “I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve said that to a woman. How about you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours?”

“Yes because a project in which we have to work together definitely calls for staying away from one another. Can you not pretend to tolerate me?”

“Must you ask so much of me?” She frowns intently, grabbing her purse and standing to push her chair underneath the table.

“When our careers ride on it, yes. Now play nice. No more school-yard insults.”

“Okay. Truce.. For now.. Samsquatch.”

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The rest of the day was filled with more paperwork, tours, and individual assignments, according to each home-based newspaper company. At the end of the day, knowing I have some time to kill before I have to catch my train, I stop by the front desk.

Daisy is sat with her head down looking over scheduling for the following week. I tap the counter with the pads of my fingers, the soft sounds calling for her attention. She greets me with that same wide smile. Yeah, she’s cute.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Daisy. And thank you for your help this morning,” I hold my hand out to her, and she places her dainty one gently in my palm.

“It was lovely to meet you too, Sam.” She giggles and a blush forms.

“I’ll see you next week for the presentation.” I bend down to place a kiss on her knuckles, causing her cheeks to redden even further. As I straighten I can hear ‘oh god’ behind me. I turn to see Willa standing there, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t waste your time, he’s insufferable.” She says to Daisy and storms off. I cannot believe she would do that. I know she isn’t exactly my biggest fan, but to try and cock-block me because she dislikes me is insane. I really haven’t done anything to her. How can someone you barely know have that strong of a vendetta against you?

I look back at Daisy, “Would you excuse me one moment.” I let out an awkward laugh. Before fully walking away, I stop, “Next week, pretty girl,” and give her a wink. When I leave she has a smile on her face. Successfully recovered.

I walk quickly through the hall down toward the elevator to catch up with Willa. Just as the doors start to close, I catch it and force it back open, boarding the elevator with her. Turning to her with my eyebrows raised and my arms crossed, I clear my throat.

“Can I help you?” Her eyes are locked in her phone.

“Just because you have shit luck with dates, doesn’t mean you have any right to try and ruin my chances at one.”

“Oh, please. You cannot subject her to that.”

“Subject her to what?”

“Sam, it’s actually less painful watching teenagers flirt. I’m begging you, if I’m going to have to witness your flirting through this whole experience, the least you could do is practice in the mirror a bit.” She sneers at me.

“Ya know,” I take a step closer to her until my chest is pressed against her shoulder, “I could always practice on you.” The slight intake of her breath almost goes unnoticed, almost.

“Oh god,” She lunges toward the button panel, repeatedly pressing the open door button. “Get me the hell out of hereeeee.”

Checkmate.

<- Chapter Two ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Chapter Four ->

Masterpost | Taglist

Taglist 💜 :

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @threadofstars @mackalah @klarxtr @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf @ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @violet-hayes @anythingforjtk

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