#she wasn't perfect. i hear that all the time from my mama. but she was kind and loving to me.

[bbbrianjones]

the more i learn abt my nana the more i just know we would have been fucking BESTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[storiesforallfandoms]

by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton;bridgerton

word count: 2675

request?: no

description: in which she flees from a pushy suitor, only to find a lovely alternative painting by the lake

pairing: benedict bridgerton x female!reader

warnings: period accurate stuff, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Whenever perpetual bachelors would moan about the courting season, I couldn't help but laugh. Sure, eager mamas trying to force a connection with their daughters could be tiring, but as a man it was fine to turn down potential wives and live a life of bachelordom. For women, that wasn't an option. The moment we come of age we are expected to find a husband and bare children. If we don't, we are spinsters that essentially become outcasted from society.

Not to mention that some male suitors can be just as pushy as the eager mamas.

One example of this was Lord Windsor, a middle aged Lord who had gone a number of seasons without finding a wife and had gotten noticeably desperate. Lord Windsor was okay on the eyes, but not overly handsome. He came from a prominent family, but was the youngest of the three brothers. And, the worst of all, he had the personality of a wet napkin. He was awkward and bored anyone he spoke to to tears.

And I was his current victim.

I was attending an event in town with my family when Lord Windsor's attention fell on me. He began talking to me - or rather at me - not noticing how desperately I was trying to escape him. I kept trying to make eye contact with anyone who passed by to try and silently ask for help. Some gave me a sympathetic look as they passed by, while others merely snickered at my misery.

I was becoming overwhelmed with his persistence. I would do anything to get away from him.

In a moment of desperation, I said, "Can you get me a drink? I am parched."

He seemed almost perturbed by my request, but went off to get me a drink anyways. Once he had mostly disappeared into the crowd, I turned and ran off. I had no idea where I was going, but I needed to get away. Not only from Lord Windsor, but from any other desperate and pushy suitor who would try and approach me.

I found myself stumbling down a trail and coming out by a lake. It was peaceful - the water bright blue and calm, and the area was empty. Well, almost empty. There was a gentleman sat facing the water, with a canvas set up in front of him, painting a lovely portrait of the calming lake. I gasped as he turned and I recognized who it was: Benedict Bridgerton.

"I-I am so sorry," I said. "I did not realize - "

"No need to apologize," he said, smiling at me. Oh my, his smile was so handsome. "This is a public place. I lay no claim to it. And I will not complain about the company of a beautiful lady."

I felt my cheeks light on fire at his compliment.

He glanced behind me, as if expecting someone else to be there. I realized then that by fleeing Lord Windsor, I had also left behind my mother, who was supposed to be my chaperon to the event. Now I was here, alone with a man, far away from the event. It would be a scandal if anyone found out, and the Bridgerton family had had enough scandals in the last year or so.

"I should go," I said, turning to leave.

"I don't mind some company," he said. "And perhaps a lady should not wander on her own."

"I suppose not."

Benedict gestured to a nearby bench. I sat down and watched as he returned to his painting. It was a truly beautiful creation. Better than some of the portraits mama had on her wall. It was a perfect recreation of the scene in front of him.

I had heard about Benedict's artistic abilities. The whole Ton had. It was quite the surprise when Benedict Bridgerton, one of the most sought after bachelors in the Ton, had decided to pursue art instead of a wife. Many hopeful debutantes thought that he would only do it for a short period of time before finally taking a wife. I could still hear mama ranting about it after reading that morning's Whistledown. But watching him now, I could see his talent and passion for the art. I didn't blame him for not wanting to give this up just to get married when he clearly had no desire to take a wife.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?"

I jumped when his voice broke the silence. He turned to smirk at me and I felt my face light on fire, as if he had caught me doing something wrong.

"I was attending the event in town but...I needed some space," I explained.

"Ah, I understand. Those events can be tiresome. Many people either gossiping or trying too hard to remain in some arbitrary social circles."

"You are one to speak when your family is part of the most respected social circle."

"I did call it arbitrary, did I not?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I suppose you are right. My biggest plight are the suitors, though."

Benedict paused with his hand raised to his canvas. He lowered the brush back into the paint to look at me again. "You are unmarried?"

I nodded. "Not for the lack of trying on my mother's part. I just haven't met anyone that I click with yet. Unfortunately, the marriage pool is becoming very shallow. I was being pursued by Lord Windsor today."

Benedict cringed. "Oh, I definitely understand your need to get away then. Lord Windsor is...a man...to say the least."

"That is one way to describe him."

He smiled. I watched him run his brush through the cup of water before drying it in a cloth and standing. I watched as he began to pack away his painting supplies. "What are you doing?"

"I have a carriage waiting by the road. I am going to bring my art supplied back there, then I will walk with you around the lake before returning you to your family in the town." I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off by saying, "I was finished with my painting anyways, and I must make an appearance there, no matter how brief it is. I would not mind arriving with such a beautiful lady on my arm."

He knew exactly how to shut me up and he had only met me moments prior. My mouth shut instantly and, for a third time in such a short period of time, I felt like I was blushing. Benedict smiled at me again, almost triumphant, before going to his carriage with his art supplies. I remained seated on the bench until his returned, in which he extended his arm to me and I took it.

Our sides were pressed firmly together as we began to walk. My arm, hip, nearly my legs if it were not for my dress, were pressed against his. The parts that were touching started to feel warm and fuzzy. I wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with me, until I looked up at Benedict and his eyes met mine, and suddenly that warm and fuzzy feeling was running through my entire body.

Of course I always knew Benedict Bridgerton was attractive. I had eyes that could see his beauty, and I had ears that could hear all the gossip from other mamas and debutantes about him. But being here, with my arm laced through his and our bodies so close together, was much different than observing him from afar.

"How many seasons have you been through?" he asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

"This is my third," I responded. He gave me a look that made me giggle. "What?"

"You were not married in your first season?"

"I believe that is what I said, yes. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, forgive me for sounding like a broken record, but you are incredibly beautiful. If I know anything from my years observing the marriage markets, it is that beautiful women usually have a very easy time finding a husband."

"I am flattered by your compliments, and you would be right that I had no shortage of suitors asking to court me, but the thing is is that I am looking for something that many seem to think is impossible: a love match."

Benedict scoffed. "Impossible? I have three siblings that would argue with you there."

"They are exceptions, not the rules. Of course there are people who marry for love, but there are still others who only believe in marrying for looks and for titles. And it seems there are very few suitors who are looking for a love match. Most of them just want a beautiful lady who they can take to bed and produce heirs with, and once that job is done they will return to the brothels."

"You would get along exceptionally with my sister, Eloise."

I smiled. I squeezed his arm a little as I asked, "Why have you not married then, Mr. Bridgerton?"

"Please, call me Benedict," he said. "Which reminds me, I have no caught your name yet."

"(Y/N)," I told him. "And do not avoid my question."

"I would never!" he said in mock offense. "My answer is just more selfish than yours."

"That does not make me want to hear it any less."

He chuckled. "I have just never had the desire to take a wife. My older brother, Anthony, is the Viscount, he was the one expected to find a wife and produce little Viscount heirs. Daphne was the first daughter to come of age to join the season, and her love match has made our mother much more intent on having similar experiences for my other sisters. Colin, Gregory, and I are not under the same pressure as our other siblings. Colin had his travels, Gregory is far too young to consider marriage as it is, and I have my art. I thought Colin and I were in agreement about our thoughts on marriage, but it seems he has changed his mind."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Changed your mind?"

Benedict stopped walking a moment, pulling me to a halt next to him. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he said, "I have not decided."

We continued to walk in silence for a while. It was a beautiful day, and the lake was an ideal place to be. The water shimmered under the bright sun, still calm without a single ripple, and the sky was clear without a single cloud. It was a beautiful day, and I was walking with Benedict Bridgerton. It truly could not be a better day.

"Your painting was beautiful, by the way," I told him. "I understand why you would choose art. You have quite the talent for it."

"Thank you," he said. I could see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. One that was genuine, maybe a bit flustered at the compliment.

"What do you do with your art? Do you sell it or hang it yourself?"

"Oh no, my mother usually takes whatever I paint and hangs it around the estate. I think most of the artwork in our house is all mine now. She loves to gush over what I have painted, almost embarrassingly so."

"Well, I would love to have one for my home, if you do not mind having another client."

He looked down at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "I believe your painting to be more beautiful than some of my own mama's choices of artwork. But keep that between us."

He smiled. "I will not tell a soul."

We began walking up a path that led back to the town, and suddenly I could heard the bustling of the event. The light and happy feeling I had since running into Benedict had slowly began to fade into dread as I realized what our arrival at the event meant. With any luck, my mother would want to leave the second she found me and I would not have to endure Lord Windsor for any longer.

I expected to be surrounded the second we came into view. I thought, for some reason, that mama would know of my disappearance and would be worried sick. I expected lots of questioning, and then for her to whisk me away quickly where she would likely continue to question me at home.

To my surprise, no one approached us at first. No one even noticed our arrival for a few moments, until one person glanced at Benedict and I as we walked past, and then did a double take to make sure they had seen correctly. Suddenly, there were dozens of prying eyes and hushed voices, with us at the centre of all their attention.

"I told you," Benedict whispered in my ear. "All gossiping."

"Seems we may find ourselves in the next issue of Whistledown," I said.

Benedict gave me a playful smile and said, "May as well make that count then."

He led me through the crowds of people, all whispering and watching us go. I was beginning to feel a little insecure under all their watchful eyes, until I noticed Lord Windsor as one of the many who was watching us. His face looked sullen as he watched us go by, holding two cups in his hand - he still had the drink I sent him to get. The thought of him standing around with it in his hand this whole time made me giggle to myself, and then I found myself standing up straighter and leaning into Benedict more. Lord Windsor seemed to have gotten the message loud and clear.

I found my mama with a group of other mothers, and when we began to approach they all fell silent. Mama looked at us and her eyes widened with shock.

"Mr. Bridgerton," she said, looking between myself and Benedict. "How lovely it is to see you."

"I hope you do not mind my borrowing of your daughter, my lady," Benedict said. "She was most excellent company for a walk around the lake nearby."

Mama looked to me like she was trying to figure out why I had left without telling her. I merely smiled at her, mentally willing her to leave that question until we returned home.

"Of course I do not mind at all, Mr. Bridgerton," mama said. "Although, next time I do hope there shall be a chaperone with you."

I opened my mouth to tell her there would be no next time, but Benedict cut me off by saying, "Of course. I was hoping to call on her tomorrow afternoon, if that is alright with you."

Mama seemed just as dazed as I was. She managed to stutter out an agreement, which amused Benedict to no end. She turned back to her friends as Benedict and I stepped away to speak once more.

"You are giving her some false hope," I told him.

"What do you mean?"

"You are making her believe that you are going to court me. She will be more heartbroken than I when she realizes that is not the case."

"Who said I do not intend to court you?"

It was my turn to be at a loss for words. I tried to form a coherent sentence, but I just stood there with my mouth open, no doubt looking tremendously stupid.

"You seem like a lovely lady, (Y/N)," Benedict said when I could not find the words to say. "I truly did enjoy our time together today. I would like to spend more time with you, if you would allow it. And I must bring that painting to you at some point, remember?"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would very much like to spend more time with you as well."

His smile was bright and genuine once again. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "Perfect. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon then."

"Yes. I suppose you shall."

[satowooo]

" YOU'RE THE ONE I WANT IN PAPER RINGS. . ."

I like shiny things but I'll marry you with paper rings ft. gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento.

contents. fluff, fluff, fluff, not proofread.

౨ৎ GOJO SATORU

“Shush, don't look!”

Satoru had been focused on folding a piece of paper for the past 30 minutes now, ever since you two sat on a table and planned to make paper flowers for the students to celebrate the year end. You just asked him about what he's doing, only to be replied with a scolding and him turning his back on you to hide the piece of paper. You could hear his small grunts and complaints every single time he messed up and redid it all over again, noticing him folding it in a different way from a paper flower and it was even cut smaller. It was the first time you had seen him struggling over a matter as small as folding papers, when he wasn't even having a hard time on the paper flowers earlier though, and Satoru seems to not be fond of not getting everything his way on an easier path either.

Since when did making paper rings become so difficult anyway?

“Okay. You don't want me to help with whatever that is?”

“No. Just stay put.”

You bite your lip to stop a chuckle, noticing the way his shoulders slumped when you heard him accidentally tore the paper, so you obeyed and looked away. He turned around again, leaning on the table to get another paper, and got to work. His slender fingers carefully folding and twisting, his eyes solely focused on it, with his brows furrowed in determination and even a small pout for the thousand of times he messed up and probably on the verge of giving up, if not because he was making a paper ring because wanted to please you.

It took him another good 15 minutes to do it right, a little wrinkled on one side but the heart on the ring was perfect. He scooted over to your side, and you finally looked at him.

He took your hand, and slipped the paper ring on your ring finger, making you gasp as you finally see the blue material fit you perfectly. “I did my best, baby.”

“Satoru!”

“I know it's not much, and I mean, I can probably give you a more expensive one with diamonds and shiny crystals but I just thought this one would mean more and much more endearing and I tried to make it after watching a video that I saw using my memory and I just think–” He stopped, blinking as he realised how much he had rambled. Satoru sighed, gazing at your hand, lifting it up to press a kiss on your knuckle, right next to the ring. “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I do!”

“Then should we call a priest right now?"

౨ৎ GETO SUGURU

It was originally Mimiko and Nanako’s ideas. The two girls lay on their stomach right by the floor with their feet swaying in the air, their homeworks long forgotten on either side of them. There were tons of papers around them, in different colours and shapes when Suguru caught them slacking around in their bedroom.

“Papa! Make a paper ring for Mama!” Mimiko suggested, patting the space between them so Suguru could join in the fun.

“Are you done with your homeworks, sweethearts?” He chuckled, taking his spot, laying flat on the stomach with his feet also high in the air like some teenage girls.

“Of course!” Nanako, who was obviously lying for the way she blushed and can't look Suguru straight on the face, as she pressed something on the origami that she made which was shaped in a frog, and it jumped towards his side.

Suguru couldn't help but be amazed, but also wanting to tease his girls. “Really? Can I see?” He said as he reached for their notebooks.

Mimiko was quick to act, slapping her dad’s big hands away with her small ones so he would drop it, then thrashing a bunch of paper in front of him instead. “Mama would like paper rings!”

And that's exactly how he found himself making one. With the help of his daughters, they instructed him on what to do for a good 15 minutes. He'd get confused sometimes every time they talked at the same time, instructions unclear when they talk about different things. But he got the hang of it, and it was perfect, as expected from Suguru.

Now, he's sitting on the bed, with his back pressed on the headboard, as he got you straddling his lap as you two talked about your day, while the two girls had gone to sleep.

“The girls were very enthusiastic today.” He said, his thumb caressing small circles on your inner thigh as he gazed at you. “They taught me how to make origami, and something else…”

“Hmm? What is it?” You replied, eyes filled with curiosity as you waited for him to continue.

You watched as he pulled something out from the bedside cabinet, a red paper shaped in a small circle. You couldn't see much because his hands were covering it a bit, but when he took your hand and wore it on your finger, you realised what it was.

“I made it, but it took all our efforts.” He whispered, watching as you gaped at the paper ring. “They're not the best teachers though.”

“It's beautiful…”

Suguru didn't expect the next thing you did. As you clutched on his shirt and immediately crashed your lips together, your hands coming to the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. Your lips dancing in harmony to the rhythm of your heartbeats.

He pulled away, breathless as he cups your cheek. “I'd ask you to marry me right now, but we'll save that for some other time.” He chuckled, pulling you in for another kiss.

౨ৎ CHOSO KAMO

It was a sweet gesture. Your boyfriend prepared all the materials needed and even borrowed his brother Yuji’s ipad so you could watch tutorials on YouTube. Ever since he saw you scrolling on your Instagram reels about making paper stars, flowers, little animals, hearts, and all other cute things, he was determined to do the activity with you. And he wanted to make sure that you'll enjoy it as much as he would.

“Let's make this one!” You scrolled onto a video, showing him a tutorial on how to make a scrapbook, which he agreed to.

You two worked on it right away, both of you busy while you cut some papers and draw on it, while he folds some others into shapes that would look good on the scrapbook. Once in a while, he would try to steal kisses on your lips every time he finishes one.

After a few minutes, you got up to go upstairs and print some pictures that you'd add on the book, leaving Choso alone with folding a new set of papers. This time, he made a mini bouquet, which was unexpectedly quite easy. And then last, the paper ring.

When you got back, you placed the printed papers on the table as you two got to work again. But your eyes caught the mini bouquet resting beside the others, and your eyes glinted.

“Choso! That's so cute! How did you make that?” You scooted closer to him, taking the mini bouquet in your hands, the paper tiny in your hands. “Are you putting this on the book?”

Choso blushed, nuzzling his face on your neck. “It's actually for you.” He muttered, his breath fanning on your skin that made you shiver. “They're small and cute, I thought you'd like it.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek so he could look at you. “Really?”

“Mhm. And I have another one too.”

He showed you the pink paper ring, and your eyes widened in shock. He was about to put in on your ring finger when you turned around, snatching something from underneath the table.

“Cho! I made you one too!”

Was it fate? But nevertheless, it got Choso blushing and almost kicking his feet as butterflies filled his stomach. His palms covering his mouth to probably stop him from reacting exaggeratedly while you slipped the paper ring in his finger. It was even the same colour as the one he made, and he swears his heart was about to burst.

౨ৎ NANAMI KENTO

How many times did you and Nanami get married this year? Three. Three times in a row. The first time was in a shrine, doing the Japanese traditional way of weddings, a wedding held privately with only your families. Second was at the church, with both your families and friends this time, with you wearing a beautiful white wedding dress as your husband awaits in the altar, looking as dashing as ever. And this might be the third.

“Honey, marry me.” He muttered, his feet tapping on the floor impatiently, watching you type on your laptop for a school document.

“We're already married, Kento?” You asked, glancing back at him once before you're back to rapidly tapping on your keyboard. The noise filled the air, together with Nanami’s sighed.

“I know. But you seem married to your laptop for the past few hours, honey.”

Nanami is not one to complain about this type of thing, in fact, he's a very understanding man that he wouldn't mind if you're stuck doing paperworks all day, unless you wouldn't be sparing him a glance, giving him a kiss, or a hug during the said day, and that would make him open up his concerns a bit. How many hours had passed anyway? Four long hours of torture for him, that he had convinced himself enough that he was the clingy one in the relationship and not you.

“Are you asking for my undivided attention, Kento?” You laughed, finally tearing your gaze away from your laptop as you spun your swivel chair at him.

He pulled the chair from underneath so you're closer to him, his right knee between your thighs as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. “Indeed. And I don't think I can live another second of you not talking to me for another hour, not even a kiss since this morning.”

“I'm sorry,” you giggled, kissing him one more time to show that you were truly apologetic. “Were you lonely?”

“A bit.” He sighed, caressing your cheeks, then pulled away as he leaned back on his chair. “You do look adorable when you're focused, honey, which I'm always pleased to see. But I have to give you something.”

He slid his swivel chair backward a bit, grabbed something on a nearby table and went back to your spot right away. He took your hands, sliding a white paper ring right next to your wedding ring. “I don't think you noticed me making this while you were busy.”

“Kento, how..?” Your eyes smiled with you, a testament of your appreciation and affection towards the man you love. You knew Nanami Kento had always been perfect, but he's even more perfect now that he took his time to make this for you.

He laced your fingers together with his, his heart warming up to the sight of you appreciating his small efforts. Kento loves it when you're happy, and would do anything to keep it that way for as long as he can.

“A few videos.” He shrugged, pulling your chair closer to him again. “Now, will you marry me?”

[lunnybunny12]

Stolas x wife reader (happy families)

(part 1)

Masterlist

Requests open

A Goetia party was always a talking point in hell. And for good reason. From kings to lowborns, everyone and anyone from the Goitias were invited.

The hall was practically dripping with wealth. Ladies draped with the finest silks and velvets, in floor-length gowns and sprinkled with jewels and gems. The gentlemen, groomed to perfection, wore luxurious suits with matching: shirts, hats, tailcoats and cloaks. The smell of the fine food, collected from all across the seven rings drifted through the air along with a strong smell of absynthe and incense.

It was a classy affair, at least you would've thought so if you weren't 5 years old. In your little bird brain, you hated these parties. Granted this was your first one but you couldn't imagine anything more boring. So far you have been: stepped on, pushed and pulled in all directions, danced and if you smiled any more your lips would fall apart.

Your mother, on the other hand, lived for them. When you were small your mother would always pawn you off to a babysitter so she could be at a party. Every year she would work for at least a month to prepare for the occasion.

Not a single feather was out of place that night. Her talons and beak were buffed and polished and there wasn't a spec of anything but elegance ( and annoyance) on her.

"(Y/N)! stop fidgeting you'll ruin my dress" she crowed, dragging you behind her.

"But Mama I-"

Your mother sent you a look that choked the words in your throat and bent down to dust off your dress.

"No buts. you be on your best behaviour. I won't have you embarrass me in front of a king"

Faster than you could comprehend, your mother composed herself and shoved you in front of her.

You slammed face-first into something. Tears were pooling at the corners of your eyes when a sweet voice said "Oh goodness, I'm sorry are you alright?

The boy in front of you was around your age maybe a year older. He was an inch or two taller than you and had 2 large, kind, red eyes that met yours.

"This is my daughter (Y/N). Isn't she just... Precious" your mother said pulling her face into the biggest smile you'd ever seen.

Your eyes travelled up to who she was talking to. The man toward over you and your mother. His blood-red eyes stared down at you like he was staring into your soul.

The owl grumbled to himself before planting a fake smile on his face.

"Isn't she darling? Allow me to introduce my son... uh. Fuck, what's your name?"

"Stolas, father."

"STOLAS! of course. My son, Prince Stolas."

The young owl lowered his head earning a slap.

"Don't bow to THAT one. They bow to us." The man hissed.

Your mother grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a bow, making you slip and fall into Stolas, who caught you.

"(Y/N)!" your mother whispered sharply, tearing you away from Stolas and dragging you behind her.

The whole time you felt your mother's claws dig into your skin making you wince in pain.

Eventually, when your mother let you go you managed to sneak away and scurried to the first place you could find, under a table.

It wasn't the worst place to hide, the tablecloth draped down to the floor on all sides so you couldn't be seen. Through your misty eyes, you'd see shadows pass by. If you weren't so upset you'd actually enjoy your little nook.

"Hello?" someone hooted to you.

You immediately dried your face and tried to stand, hitting your head on the underside of the table.

You locked eyes with the young prince, who by this point was fully under the table with you, and fell face-first to the ground in embarrassment.

Stolas crawled to you with a slight giggle in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Yes Your Highness I'm fine. My head hurts that's all." You mumbled into the carpet.

"Here let's get you to sit up. I can't really hear you."

Stolas could see that you were upset, your eyes were still puffy and your face was wet.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

You sniffled and fake smiled "Im alright Your Highness"

"Please call me Stolas" he lowered his head to a bow

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Twelve

— Little Big Relationships

Series Masterlist

wc: 2.1k

"Max? Isabella?" You called out as you entered your home, hearing nothing but silence in return.

As you continued walking inside, you heard some giggles coming from Isabella's room that were muffled because the door was closed.

Knocking once, you opened the door and were faced with an intriguing scene. They were sitting on a kiddy table, which was the perfect size for Isabella but too little for Max; however, he compromised by sitting half on the chair and half kneeling on the floor.

"Hold it like this, Maxy, your pinky has to point out," Isabella instructed while demonstrating it herself. You slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle a chuckle when you noticed the little teacups in their hands as Isabella attempted to teach Max how to act at a tea party.

"C'mon Maxy, stick your pinky out," you joked, instantly catching their attention. Isabella beamed at you, "mama, look," she gestured to the little setup they had going on. Max, however, froze in place but after a moment a small smile grew on his face as he purposely pointed his pinky outwards with an exaggerated motion.

"Join us, mama," Isabella suggested or more so instructed. You obliged, pulling the little chair closer to your daughter and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before taking the teacup she held out for you.

"Did you know that Maxy has two cats, mama?" Isabella asked, a glimmer shining in her eyes at her words. Your daughter had always wanted a cat, but because the responsibility would be too much for her, you always refused or advised her to at least wait until she was older.

Nodding along, you looked at Max who had showed you many pictures of Jimmy and Sassy. "Yeah, when we go over to Max's house, we can see them okay?" You proposed, and Isabella glanced at Max for an answer, to which he replied, "Of course!"

While Isabella poured more pretend tea in your cup, your gaze met Max's, filled with a tad bit of vulnerability that neither of you no longer feared to share.

Max has spent the majority of his time in Monaco, or at least he used to, because he has been spending more time with you and Isabella in your home that he would normally spend in his apartment across the world. He'd rather have you than an empty apartment with no hesitation. But lately, he's been picturing his apartment filled with the sounds of your daughter's laughter as the three of you make a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake.

He wasn't opposed to it at all, and a part of him knew that you would love the suggestion as well. However, your relationship with him is kept under wraps, with the only person you've told is your best friend. You don't necessarily want to keep it a secret, but the reason you are is quite obvious; your daughter.

Although Isabella has suspicions of Max's involvement in your day to day lives, she hasn't openly questioned it yet. The reality is, you don't know how to tell her you're in a relationship with Max since you're not sure how she'll react. A part of you believes it will elicit a positive response, but another half wonders if she would object to it.

You pushed your thoughts away to the back of your mind once Max broke eye contact with you since your daughter nudged him. Gesturing for him to come closer, Isabella whispered in his ear and you watched with a slight tilt of your head and a smile threatening to grow on your face.

Max nodded to her words, and Isabella looked at you with a smile she only uses when she wants something. "Mama?" she started.

"Yes, angel?" She glanced at Max for reassurance and when he nodded again, she spoke, "can Maxy stay over?"

You were taken aback by her words, especially with the thoughts that were running through your mind. "You mean a sleepover?"

Isabella nodded, "yes! We'll have so much fun, mama. We can play games, eat snacks, oh and I want Maxy to read my bedtime story to me too." You smiled as she listed out everything she wanted to do, knowing that she had already planned it earlier so it would be easier to convince you. However, she had no idea that you weren't opposed to the idea at all and needed no such convincing.

She looked at you with anticipation, her smile only growing wider when you nodded. "We can have a sleepover with Max."

She cheered, throwing her arms up and then wrapping them around Max. "Oh wait, I forgot something," she left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Max in confusion.

Max took that opportunity to lean over the table and press a kiss to your cheek. You threaded your fingers through his hair, resting it on the back of his head to pull him in for a proper kiss.

"How did it go?" He asked once he leaned back into the chair, almost falling backwards due to his weight. "I think I made a friend."

After your nap with Max yesterday, you awoke to a text from Emma asking if you wanted to meet for coffee. You decided to go after discussing with Max regarding the pros and cons of what could happen. The only drawback was that Emma was Tyler's girlfriend; otherwise, you wouldn't have any doubts about meeting her.

However, your decision to go meant you would have to leave Isabella in Max's care for a few hours. The only issue you faced was that if you didn't want your ex's partner to babysit your daughter, you shouldn't let your own boyfriend babysit Isabella either. It would be unfair to both of them.

Max, being Max, went right to Isabella and asked if she was comfortable with staying with him for a few hours, which she easily agreed to. He then gave you a smile that only meant one thing, "problem solved."

—

"The last time we met wasn't under the right circumstances, so I figured we should redo it," Emma stated as you sat down with your coffee at one of the few empty tables amid the many occupied ones.

"I agree. Also, I don't think I'll be able to thank you enough for what you did for my daughter that night." Emma shook her head, "no worries, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat," she said before adding, "not that I want her to have another allergic reaction."

The initial awkwardness of this friendly meeting stemmed from the individual who was the reason for the introduction between you two. However, the conversation evolved significantly after that.

"Oh, I have to ask, that guy you with at the hospital, are you dating him?" Emma asked, and you nodded. "We actually weren't dating then, but we are now."

She nodded along and just smiled while looking at you. Tilting your head, you asked, "why?"

"Nothing, it's just that it looked like you were together then, based on his actions and how worried he was for both you and Isabella," she explained, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks. Max was always kind to you from the minute you met him, but learning that someone else had observed your relationship was slightly surprising.

"It's still new, I guess we're just figuring it out as we go, especially with Isabella around," you admitted openly, seeing no reason to hold back from her. You were cautious about Emma before seeing her today, but you realized there was no reason to be. She would easily become a good friend, and the fact that you knew her through Tyler would no longer matter.

"She doesn't know?" Emma inquired and hummed when you shook your head. "I don't mean to intrude, but how did you and Tyler tell her?" You asked, wanting some pointers on what to do, or even what you shouldn't do.

She scoffs, "it was probably the worst way ever, just casually dropping it in a conversation, good riddance though."

You had to hold back from wincing however you don't think you did a good job based on her reaction. "Yeah, it was odd, don't do that."

"Good riddance?" You asked, unsure of what she meant. "I broke up with him," she stated bluntly, taking you aback. "Oh." For a moment you were speechless, mainly to gauge Emma's reaction on the situation before you decide on saying anything.

She sighed, "you don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, it was a long time coming."

You wanted to know more details, not because he was your ex and now hers too, but because Emma was now a friend. Without having to utter a word, she began to explain the reason.

"I was skeptical about dating him at first when he told me about Isabella, because I initially thought that his time and attention would be split between us," she started, and you nodded along.

"But, I didn't think that he wouldn't give either of us any time at all. He wasn't always like that, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise but he became too consumed in work."

"Arguments were inevitable, but I didn't think it would happen that often. Sometimes I would find Isabella sitting in her room with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears because of his words. That's when I realized that he wasn't worth my love and time, or even his daughter's," she finished and your heart hurt with the image of how Isabella used to spend so many of her days and nights at Tyler's house.

"I hope Isabella doesn't stay over at his anymore," Emma stated, but you quickly shook your head. "No, she hasn't stayed over after the allergy incident, plus she's said it herself that she doesn't want to anymore."

"Anyways, he is your ex for a reason and now he's also my ex, so here's to finding better men who are worth our time," Emma proposed, holding up her half empty coffee cup as if it were an alcoholic drink and you chuckled while agreeing with her.

"I think I already found mine," you shyly admitted. "And I am very happy for you!"

"I just don't know how to tell Bella about it," you stated, and she held up a finger to tell you to hold on as she quickly sipped on her drink. "Does he come around often?" Emma asked.

“Very often,” you chuckled. “And does she like having him around?” You thought about it for a second, recalling the latest moments you've shared together. "She does get very excited about it, never complained about having him around."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, as long as you sit down and explain it to her, I think she'll be fine. After all, she is your daughter, very kind and understanding," Emma concluded.

—

“So you want to tell Isabella?” Max asked after you gave him a summary of your conversations with Emma. You shrugged, “what do you think?”

“I’m okay with anything you choose to do, baby, we can wait or we can tell her now,” he stated. “I don’t want her to find out from someone else, especially since we’re going to the next race,” you reasoned.

Max’s eyes lit up, “you’re coming?” Chuckling, you nodded, “my boyfriend’s racing, I think I should be there to support him.”

Max didn’t hesitate to scoot his chair over towards you, “plus, there’s a chance that I might win my third championship at that race,” he added. Your jaw dropped, “what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Well, I didn’t want it to pressure you into travelling if you didn’t want to but I’m very glad you’re going to be there with me,” he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Max, have I told you how sweet you are?”

He hummed, “I think I can hear it again.”

Before you could utter a word, Isabella entered the room again, this time with a frown on her face. Max leaned away from you, trying to subtly move back.

“Angel, where did you go?” You asked, and invited her to sit in your lap which she easily agreed to.

“I went to find my teddy, but I think I left it at daddy’s,” she meekly responded. “Aw, it’s okay, we’ll get him back soon,” you suggested while brushing her hair out of her face with your fingers.

“But Mr. Bear will miss my tea party, mama, and he never missed it before,” she stressed. “We can host as many tea parties as you want when we find him,” Max suggested.

Isabella still had a frown on her face but she agreed with a small nod.

You glanced at Max, and with his reassurance, you began an important conversation with your daughter that could possibly change the trajectory of your relationship with Max.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[chrissv4mp]

BabyyI really need angry sex with bullie and you are the right person to write it my god, i miss her soo much

౨ MAD AT ME ৎ

@livialifesblog @her-favorite @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @muchloveforhacker @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @xoluvx @slutforsturnioloss @devynscomet @loving1dsworld

NAVIGATION

billie's hand gripped your hair harshly as she fucked into you from behind, chest heaving and hair sticking to her forehead and some sides of her neck. rough grunts fall into your ear as she thrusts into you hard and fast, her pace relentless just as her grip on your hair was.

you don't even remember how you got in this position; her body towering over yours as she she whispered the most dirty, degrading words into your ear as she fucked you from behind like some slut. all you can remember was the first interaction you had when she got home from work.

she had accused you of something that she knew was bullshit. it was just some stupid rumor online about you and your co-star having an affair. fans had speculated something going on between the two of you since the close relationship you both had on set. you and her had hung out a few times, but that was it, and now you were here.

"you want her like this, huh? you want her fucking you from behind, don't ya?" she breathes out, untangling her hand from your hair to land a harsh slap on your ass. all that you can respond with are whines and cries, your hands gripping the sheets harshly as you shake your head.

tears threaten to roll down your cheeks as she grasps your hips with both hands, pulling you back against the fake dick. the new angle almost makes your arms give out, a loud, desperate moan reverberating in the room as she hits your g-spot repeatedly. the wet, sloshing sound of your pussy made her head spin, tugging her lower lip between her teeth in a means to silence her own noises.

frustration and lust boiled beneath her skin as she continues to thrust her hips forward, ignoring the obvious warnings that you gave whenever you were about to cum. she wasn't gonna stop when you did, she wasn't gonna stop until you were utterly spent or until she thought you learned your lesson, "cum, cum on my dick, babygirl. bet this wasn't the first time you've cum today, is it?"

incoherent babbles fell from your red and swollen lips, tears rolling down your cheeks as you unraveled all over the silicone cock. her palm came down on your ass again, this time in a harsher motion, causing a loud cry of her name to escape your throat.

the way you tried to squirm away only made her more passionate about her goal, her nails digging into your hips as she held you tighter. her body towered over yours once again, lips only an inch away from your ear as she spoke, "no, no, you don't get to move away. if you wanna act like a dirty slut, you're gonna get treated like one." she muttered, nibbling at your earlobe softly.

"who do you belong to, mamas?" she spat, her voice raspy and hoarse. you couldn't respond, she knew that, and that's exactly why she asked right in that moment. she wanted to tease you, break you past point of no return until all you knew was her name and her dick, "fuckin' say it. don't make me ask again," her hand came down on your ass again, her handprint almost clearly displayed from the impact.

"you—fuck!—'m'belong to you, mommy..!" your voice was a quiet, strained whine, but billie heard. she heard it loud and clear and that only fueled the fire in her chest. her thrusts never slowed, though, her hips snapping against yours seemingly rougher than before.

a low chuckle fell from between her perfect, plump lips before she spoke. her hand snuck up your body, tracing the curve in your back before running along your back muscles, finally finding home wrapped around you neck, "ts' all i needed to hear, princess."

"but that doesn't mean we're done, yet."

[barcaatthemoon]

little miss perfect || lia walti x reader ||

whenever you have a problem, lia is always there.

there had once been a time whenever you could have seen yourself being close with lia. both of you had grown up in the same area, and had played soccer together as children. your positions had been different, so it wasn't until lia got her call up to the swiss national team that things started to go sideways for the two of you.

you had been born in switzerland, but your parents were german. your father had only been in the area for a job, but once the call came, he packed things up. lia had been one of your best friends, and then one day, you were ripped away from her. even though the two of you had seen each other often after, things were not the same.

the first time that lia had scored on you was far from the first time that your heart broke, but it definitely hurt like it was. it wasn't like practice, and lia had just knocked your chances at tournament advances away with that one shot. your team was decent, but lia was better. you could try your hardest, but you simply just didn't have the energy to block all of them.

"(y/n), honey, it's okay. you'll get them next year." your parents had always been very encouraging when it came to your career. women's soccer wasn't nearly in as good of a place then as it was now, but they believed in you. in their eyes, you were good enough to make the whole world believe in you.

you didn't know then that it would be one of the last games that your parents would attend together. when your father got sick, you completely threw yourself into playing. it was the distraction from everything else in your life. the worse things got at home, the harder you went in training. you had truly become one of the best goalkeepers in the world, but the one person who you wanted to see it wasn't there to do so.

your first game after losing your father was also your first call up for the senior national team. it was a friendly against switzerland, which made you a bit nervous. technically, there wasn't any bad blood between you and lia, but much of the childhood love you shared was lost. all of the good feelings that you had once felt for her festered until they turned into disdain, and eventually, hatred.

"mama, relax. i am at my new apartment, and it is lovely. london is beautiful, i can't wait for you to see my new uniform. i'll send you pictures later. goodbye, i love you." phone calls with your mother were often a bit of an ordeal. she was a worrier, not that you could blame her. she had lost a lot, and you made the choice to move all the way to london to play for chelsea instead of going with her back to switzerland.

chelsea was a good fit for you, at least it was until lia signed for arsenal. you couldn't stand seeing her sometimes. something about playing against her always caused you to make stupid mistakes. she always played perfectly, just like you remembered when you were kids, and somehow, she made you play like you were still just a tiny little child starting out in the goal.

the warnings had been clear, so it didn't surprise you when they didn't renew your contract. still, you were angry. you were mad at yourself for leaving germany, mad at lia for making you play bad, and mad at chelsea for just dumping you. you were mad enough that you had taken their derby rival's offer when it came. the post you had made to announce yourself as a gunner was petty at best, but somehow didn't get you in trouble.

"come on wally, you used to know each other. surely you can tell us something about our new keeper," beth whined as she tried to bug lia into spilling her secrets on you. you pitied her, not having heard you come up behind the two of them.

"i hear she's pretty quiet for a keeper. none of that annoying stomping," you said. beth and lia both jumped, causing you to snicker. "(y/n) (y/l/n), nice to meet you."

"beth, and sorry about that. everybody has been buzzing about this trade, and lia mentioned when the rumors started up that you know each other," beth said. she was trying so hard to explain herself, but you didn't mind. you knew how it looked from the outside, but you had never been good about hiding your anger and wanting some sort of revenge. it wasn't a good trait, something you hadn't grown out of.

"beth," lia hissed. her cheeks were red with embarrassment, and you just ate it up. lia was always so perfect, rarely ever slipping up like that. "it's been a long time, and we've both grown up a lot since then…"

"yeah, lia here became the perfect poster girl for the swiss national team, and i'm the troublemaker that fucks it up when it really counts. little miss perfect." your smile was forced, and lia backed away from you a little as you began to gesture. you were getting yourself worked up, and while lia wanted to comfort you, she knew it wasn't the right time.

"alright then… well, it was nice meeting you," beth said awkwardly. she practically sprinted away with lia, which unfortunately set the tone for your first season.

you had trouble making relationships with the girls, who all knew lia first. it only seemed to get worse whenever caitlin came around. not only did lia have all the friends, but she also had a girlfriend. you had never been able to make anything last, always far too focused on your career. even within your own team, girls dubbed your focus to the game as obsessive.

soccer was your escape, and whenever something wasn't clicking, you went out to the pitch. you felt like it was a safer alternative to partying or something more dangerous. you tried things like therapy and talking, but it never felt like it helped all the way. still, you had begun to make some progress and slowly, things started to get better for you.

"when are you going to tell her how you feel?" beth asked you. she had fallen back from everybody else as you made your way from the training grounds to the cafeteria for lunch before you watched tape.

"what are you talking about?"

"lia, you should talk to her. she's single again, i don't know if you heard. leah wants to set her up with a friend, but viv and i think that you're a better match. it's pretty obvious that you don't hate her now that viv's pointed out how you act around her. you get quiet, but it's not because you're mad or jealous, you're just shy," beth rambled. you wanted to push her away and run, but it would somehow only help to prove her point.

"i don't like lia. maybe i did when we were yong, but that's changed. she wouldn't want someone like me anyway. whoever leah thinks would be good is the better choice. she deserves someone who can handle themselves, not like me." you wanted to leave it at that, but if you had learned anything in your time at arsenal, it was that the girls rarely did that.

you had hoped that kim would be the voice of reason in killing the ridiculous idea circulating the locker room that you and lia would be a good couple. instead, a single conversation at the bar after a tough loss had you calling the last voice of reason in your life, your mother. unfortunately, she agreed with a couple of the more sentimental girls that the idea of you and lia falling for each other after so long apart was utterly perfect.

"your contract is up. i don't know how true it is, but some of the girls heard you aren't going to renew," lia said. it had to have been weeks since you had spoken to each other outside of training. she had said something to you at a club, but the music was far too loud for you to hear anything.

"i don't know yet. arsenal has been nice, but i haven't been able to make it feel like home. maybe i'll go back to germany, things weren't perfect there, but they might have been better." you didn't know why you were being so open with lia. it was like you were too tired to hate her, but the more you thought about it, it had been a long time since you had really felt like you hated her.

"you haven't let your guard down long enough to let it. none of us know how to help you. i want to hold you in my arms and comfort you like i used to, but you said it yourself, we've grown up. we're not sixteen anymore, and we haven't been in a long time."

"there have been other people lia. there's always someone else for you, isn't there? a girl so beloved can't stay single for long, someone always wants to keep her." you let out a dry laugh as you thought of the countless women who had only wanted you for one night. lia frowned at you, a slight pout to her lips that you wanted to lean in and kiss off.

"i would keep you if you let me. i don't know what i did to make you hate me so much, but i'm sorry. i'm sorry for whatever i did, and even more so for everything that i didn't do," lia apologized. you were about to ask what she was talking about when she stopped you. "the losses, i could have comforted you, but i was scared. the girls were already teasing me when we faced each other, and i wanted to fit in with them. i should have called when i heard about your dad, but i didn't know what to say. you've had this caricature of me in your head as being perfect, but i feel like i've made the most mistakes when it comes to you."

"lia-," you started, only to find yourself at a loss for words.

"we could have been happy if i wasn't so scared. i never got to tell you that i wasn't mad at you, and maybe if i had, we wouldn't be like this." lia was almost fully in tears, and you felt guilt tearing you apart from the inside out. "please don't go, give me another season or something to make things right. i'm not perfect, and i won't ever be, but for you, i'll try my best every single day."

"lia, i'm not mad at you. i was always mad at myself, and you weren't around anymore, so i told myself i was mad at you. i don't deserve an apology, but i accept yours. things won't ever be perfect for either of us, but if we try, we can make each other's lives better," you said. "i'll resign, and we can try all of us again. i miss how we used to be."

[kypopkypop]

"Your so beautiful" "I know isn't she" "I was talking about you"

Changbin fluff coming home from the hospital

Warning: Body insecurities, just gave birth, reader get really upset and doesn't feel totally better at the end (I don't know if that really a warning, mentions of nursing/breastfeeding a baby (tell me if I missed something)

She doesn't really feel that much better at the end because I think it's unrealistic for the reader to suddenly feel better after something someone else says. Sometimes your just upset and you need to be upset to make your self feel better in the future if that makes sense. Also don't mind what changbin says I'm bad at comforting people so I tried my best. I think it lacking a little something but I'll try and make it better as time goes on and I get more into writing.

You were sitting on your couch holding you 2 day old baby girl. You had just come home from the hospital a couple of hours ago.

Birth is a very painful, stressful, and interesting to say the least. Your body had changed so much during your pregnancy but it slowly changed over 9 months. Giving you some time to get used to it as your body got bigger.

Birth is nothing like that though. Even if your a little chubby everyone thinks your super cute when your pregnant. Whenever people look at a pregnant person you don't think "hmm I wonder how much weight she's gained" you usually think "aww she looks so good for being 9 months pregnant, her body's creating a life".

After birth everyone losses that mentality but your body doesn't change for at least a couple of weeks. Not to even mention all the different hormones and emotions going through your body during this time.

You think of how amazing your baby girl is and how you would go through labor a thousand time again to have her. Then you look in the mirror and see every part of your self that you liked before you got pregnant has changed.

After having your baby girl your anxiety and depression worsened. It was hard for you to think of one thing that liked about your self. Your self confidence before getting pregnant wasn't super strong or anything but you've never felt like this.

Your mama bear instincts came out. You got so anxious when ever someone else was holding your baby besides your husband Changbin of course. You loved seeing him with her. It almost felt like your only purpose in life was to take care of this baby. You know Changbin would never leave you but it scared you what he thought of you know that you thought your body was "ruined".

Looking at your wonderful baby girl as she's fast asleep in your arms your husband comes and sits next to you. He sits facing you with and arm next to your shoulders. He starts admiring you baby girl too.

Then he looks up at you. You get a little freaked out from how long he was looking at you. You were trying to figure out what would make him do that. Your scared to fully look at him. Scared he'll see how puffy your face is and your dark under eye circles.

"Your so beautiful" he says. You can really hear the emotion in his voice. It almost sounds like he could cry

"I know isn't she perfect"

"I was talking about you" even though you were scared you turned you face to see him. The love in his eyes and the smile that shows up on his face when he sees your full face

"I'm never gonna look the same though. What if my stomach always stays this big. What if....." you start tearing up and you stop talking before you fully start crying.

"Y/n I know you've changed a lot before you got pregnant vs now. But the way I see you will always be the same. I didn't fall in love with you because of your body. No physical changes would ever make me stop loving you. And I know your hormones is making things harder emotionally but I want you to know that I will always be there. And if you ever need a reminder of how gorgeous you are just tell me and I could go on and on. You think our daughter is beautiful and when I look at her I just see a mini you."

You had a lot of tears streaming down your face at this point. Everything was just so overwhelming you couldn't talk. All the emotions of how you felt about your self being contradicted by Changbins words made your head feel like it was gonna explode. But you were trying hard to not let out a sob because you didn't want to wake your daughter.

Almost as Changbin read your thoughts he picks up your baby and puts her in the baby swing. He comes back and scoots you over so your on his lap. "I know it gonna take more than just once for you to believe me but I'll say it as many times as you need." He said as he puts his head and hand on top of yours. You let out the sobs that you were holding in. You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he rocked you. It made you feel like the baby but it really did make you feel better.

After taking some deep breaths to calm down you pull away to look at your perfect husband. He wipes you tears and tells you some more how much he loves you.

He tells you to lay down and take a nap to help you calm down. And being tired wasn't helping with how stressed out you were. It scared you to leave taking care of the baby all to him but he assured you. Anytime you needed a nap during the day that he would take care of her. You have been up all night nursing her. He tries to do as much as he can during the night but when your the only one who can feed her there's not much he can do. So he wants to make it up to you.

He tucks you in on the couch. And as you almost fall asleep immediately you hear him say.

"I love you and good night beautiful"

Also this is my first time writing so don't judge me to hard 😄 also thank you for reading.

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

To Vex A Viscount (of seas and torment entry)

based on this ask ♡

— regency era au

summary: simply nothing more could be required of a perfect evening when invited to a masquerade with the pleasure of vexing an easily irritable viscount.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none (though please do feel free to inform me if you find any!)

of seas and torment, make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You thank the gods for the salvation the mask wrapped around your face offers you. It will not do well if the other gossip-mongers see your distaste for the evening's festivities; they'd call you insolent, and you simply couldn't have that if you wished to find a husband.

Truly, you'd prefer readying yourself for a long night of restful slumber than being forced to simper and be delightful in the presence of the ton.

"Lady Jackson." You turn at the sound of your name, the voice all too familiar for you to mistake his identity even with the elaborate mask of golden feathers hiding his features.

"Lord Castellan." You acknowledge the viscount with a pleasant tone, though you were well-aware that the niceties shared between the both of you were merely for show. "Good evening."

"I wasn't expecting your presence tonight." Luke continues, speaking as he moves to stand closer to you. You take a deliberate step away from him, weary of anyone who might get the wrong idea.

"Neither was I." You answer truthfully. "But my mama and brother insisted on our attendance."

He looks down at you in amusement. "I do hope the soiree is to your liking."

"Of course." You nod, taking a sip from the beverage cradled in between your gloved fingers. "Lady Castellan always throws such magnificent balls."

You look for his mother amidst the crowds, her grin wide and welcoming as she conversed with your own.

Luke hums. "It was my idea to make it a masquerade. I hear it's quite fashionable in Italy."

"Ah, that must explain its banality." You twist your mouth. It was definitely a rude response, but Luke, at least once in the years you've known him, has never been offended by your brazen remarks. He took all of them in good humor.

He snorts. "I think it's rather romantic."

"And what do you know of romance, my lord?" You turn to him, eyes glinting in the candlelight as you begin to tease him. "Do enlighten me. You seem to be quite well-versed on the topic now that you've returned from your travels. I assume the continent must have been good to the matters of your heart."

He glances down at you from his peripheral. "It was. Very much, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, an invitation (or provocation) for him to speak more. He doesn't elaborate further.

You turn your attention elsewhere instead, watching as several young ladies are led onto the dance floor by the gentleman. The first few notes of a quadrille hum through the air.

"May I write my name on your dance card?" He asks after a moment, his eyes intently looking at the paper that dangled from a ribbon around your wrist.

You looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. "Me?"

"Surely, you will not have me dance with Percy?" He responds with pursed lips. His hand rises to pinch your card in between his fingers. He raises his brow for confirmation.

Your eyes narrow instantly. Your tone is near accusatory when you voice your confusion. "Why, may I ask, should you wish to dance with me?"

"Must I need a reason to?" He counters.

"Seeing as we've been at each other's throats throughout the entire season, I would assume so, yes." You nod your head. He was acting out of sorts, and it was terribly bothersome. Ever since he returned from abroad, there has been an evident shift in his attitude, more so in his treatment of you. "I believe I am owed an explanation."

You clear your throat, adding: "Perhaps you've taken a sip too many of your whiskey."

"Shall I breathe in your face to prove my sobriety?" Luke remarks dryly. "Indulge me for old times' sake. We learned to dance together, after all."

Memories of a sweltering july tucked in your family's country home came in a vague recollection— guests invited over to stay for a short retreat, taking daily swims in the bay, relaxing underneath a canopy of trees, munching on more sweets tinted blue than you could ever consume again, and a disgruntled gentleman teaching (or at least attempting to) you and Luke the beginning sequences of a routine.

He stands with an arm against his hip, his gaze neutral but his fidgeting made you aware of his impatience. You squinted your eyes as if in thought, aiming to irk him further.

"Vexing woman," He mutters underneath his breath as he grabs the drinking glass from your hold and gingerly places it on top of a cabinet. He takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor just as a waltz is announced.

"Another gentleman's name could have been written on my card." You chastise him. He stretches your clasped hands to the side, his other hand moving to rest at your waist. Though you've not danced with him in a long time, your other hand immediately lays on his shoulder. Both of your feet move in tandem, limbs moving gracefully without much thought.

"I highly doubt it. You've been keeping to yourself the entire evening." He sniffs to dismiss your point. "I must admit, I found it difficult to discern where you ended and the wallpaper began."

You step on his foot. He groans. You smile.

He guides you through practiced circles around the dance floor, never missing a step or beat. His eyes bore into yours, a deep brown that reminded you of chocolate ganache and dancing flames, of warm summers and breezy evenings, of playful goading and a mutual respect, of innocence and an imperciptible heat you've not paid any mind too up until his return.

"You look very lovely." He says abruptly, soft like a whisper; almost as if he had no intention of speaking the thought aloud.

"What?" You reply in disbelief.

"Unfortunate that such a pretty face should belong to a woman with such faulty hearing." He sighs mockingly, murmuring under his breath but loud enough for you to hear. You attempt to step on his foot again, but he moves just in time with an omniscient grin. He repeats his words with more clarity. "I said you look very lovely."

"I..." You struggle for a response. You avert your gaze, blushing. "Thank you."

The music slowly comes to an end and as you separate to bow, he seizes your hand once more. He places a gentle kiss on the back of your glove before turning your palm. His eyes lock on yours as he bends down to kiss your wrist, his lips meeting your pulse. You feel your heartbeat become more erratic with each moment his gaze lingers.

"Well done, sister." Percy claps his hands from behind you. Luke stands straighter, though his lotions are more fluid. "This is the first time I've seen you dance without tripping on your own feet."

"Oh, shut up." You huff, pushing him back into the crowd. Luke follows behind you with a chuckle, his fingers dancing with the ribbon dangling at the back of your frock.

taglist: @ryujinraven (SORRY POOKIE IT SLIPPED MY MIND)

[shadesoflsk]

BLANCA NAVIDAD

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader.

summary: Leon never liked Christmas. Memories of him being taken away from his parents and countless missions made him a bitter man. However, he wouldn't have guessed that one day, he would be placing Christmas stockings with a wife and a little bundle of joy next to him.

warnings: Mostly fluff, dad leon, mentions of injuries, alcohol problems, Leon being an orphan, mild hurt (nothing bad I swear) so cheesy and sappy.

"to give up one's very self – to think only of others – how to bring the greatest happiness to others – that is the true meaning of Christmas."

The sounds of boxes being moved filled your living room. It’s the first week of December, and both of you have postponed the task of adorning your house with Christmas stuff until now. Between Leon’s job and your newfound activity (taking care of your 1 year old daughter) it’s been nearly impossible to find enough time to dedicate yourself to this special holiday. 

Leon had told you it was more than okay if you wanted to do it by yourself. He knew how much you love this holiday. And ever since halloween ended, you found yourself eager to buy even more stuff to fill your home with. Nonetheless, you waited for your husband. There was no way you would let this opportunity slip away.

And, as you walked into the living room carrying a box albeit Leon’s constant bickering about how you shouldn’t lift heavy things, your heart melted at the sight of Leon placing a christmas hat on you guys’ daughter, which was too big on her and partially covered her sight.

“Da-da” With the baby on his hip, Leon was once again trying to teach his daughter how to say his “name.” It all started with a simple joke about him being the favorite parent, but now it has turned into a serious situation, at least for him. He wanted his daughter to master the art of speaking before Christmas. Although he has noticed that his little one barely said anything else than babbling nonsense. She was almost there, those bwaaah would turn into dada, he was sure.

She had none of that, though. As soon as Leon started talking, she laughed. As if he was telling her the funniest joke ever. Your daughter had heart eyes for both of you, but you had to admit it – she was definitely a daddy's girl. The way her eyes get so big whenever she sees Leon, and how her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb each time he's feeding her – yeah, she loves her dad.

He was an expert in fatherhood. He had no recollection of ever taking care of kids before. But, as soon as his little girl was born, the father's instincts kicked in. The way her cries filled the hospital room made him want to turn off the world for a second and give his daughter and wife a well-deserved moment of peace.

However, he never thought his life would get so lucky that he would get to experience being a dad. Ever since he was born, he was surrounded by disaster and misfortune. Having to grow up at an orphanage wasn't the most ideal place to mold a child into a perfect human being, but it seems that the little time he had spent with his parents shaped him correctly.

“Ma-ma.” You walked behind Leon and placed a hand on his other hip. Your baby instantly kicked her little feet in excitement for seeing her mom. Maybe she's a mama's girl, too.

“Hey! She was almost saying dada.” Leon feigned disappointment as you tried luring your daughter into saying mama first. This was a competition between you and Leon. Which prize will be having the satisfaction of being the “favorite parent.”

“Yeah of course. My bad.” You chuckled, voice filled with sarcasm knowing that your daughter has been the laziest of babies. Most 1 year old babies already say mama or dad. Or both. Yet this little rascal just likes existing, eating, sleeping, and exploring.

Leon saw you carrying a box and sighed in mild disappointment. You could already hear him saying “I told you not to carry heavy things.” Ever since you recovered from surgery, he has gotten even more doting. Every need of you was met by the second, and you wouldn't complain, but you're still a functional adult who can actually lift boxes.

You remember when things didn't used to be like this. In the past, you weren't instantly devoted and whipped for the man that is now teaching your daughter how to say dada. You remember how your past self leaned over the counter, you were met by an usual reek of alcohol this man had. And, with a witty and drunk smile, he said his usual line.

“Another bottle here.” It was his third one that night. Not his third glass, his third bottle. He was slowly killing his liver and himself by the way kept drowning in this deadly and burning liquid. You had never met him before, but the way his dark blue eyes sometimes shone under the dim light, you knew he once was someone important. Or at least, someone needed.

“That would be your third one tonight.” You stated matter-of-factly. However, Leon didn't miss the way you refused to move and get him his booze. 

“Look at that… Smarty knows her numbers. Aren't you so, so clever?” The disdain in his voice had reached your ears. He was never the talkative client, he just spent all of his nights at your bar and drank to his heart's content. You know you shouldn't stick your nose in someone else's business yet you couldn't bear nor allow him to basically kill himself in front of you.

“Now can you please shut up and serve me another bottle.” He groaned as the empty bottle almost fell from the counter. His heavy eyelids almost closing if it wasn't from the fact that after the words he spat, you threw a glass of water to his face.

“You don't fucking talk to me like that.” Your usual warm and easy going self was long forgotten. No matter how many hardships and problems he may have, there was no way you would let him walk all over you like that. “I don't know what fucked up things you have experienced or how many people have betrayed you. But if you have time to drown yourself in this addiction and be mad about it, you also have time to make a change.”

Those words stuck with him. He knew he was being pathetic, Chris, Rebecca, hell even Claire had told him the same thing too. But he felt even more miserable when a random bartender called him out like that. Especially when you just needed to complete your job. Why would someone care? He pays, he gets his booze, repeat. But, you at least cared, even though it was something every rational human would do.

Eventually, his daily dose of booze decreased. You witnessed the small changes in him. Going from three bottles to just one, and to finally a few glasses. You witnessed how his usual dark clothes were replaced with a somewhat more colorful attire which brought out his once dull and empty blue eyes.

His slender frame slowly took form, recovering his muscles which were more visible now. His stubble remained, though. It was like a reminder of his own age – and his now different approach in life. Wiser and more careful with his own decisions. Your words didn't completely change him, but they surely helped him to see his life in another light.

Ultimately, a new Leon set foot in your bar. He was beaten up, his navy blue shirt had some blood spots while his dark brown hair was disheveled. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder. “If you ever need a tour guide in San Francisco let me know.” He said with a charming smile as you moved around your area of work. 

“I'll keep that in mind. What can I get you?” You chuckled as you went to retrieve his order. You could already hear him say it.

“Grape juice...” 

“And your number.”

Soft whines pulled you back from your trance as your babygirl grips on Leon's shirt. She wipes her face against the fabric. The little one was starting to get fuzzy since nap time had come. 

“Oh, someone is sleepy.” He coos, bringing her closer to his chest. Leon takes off the little Christmas hat that was on her head. Immediately, the little one brings her hand to her hair. She has picked up the habit to caress her own hair when falling asleep. Before she even gets to cry, Leon rocks her to sleep. His deep voice soothes her, the gentle tunes of a Christmas song was his choice of the day.

“May your days be merry and bright and may all your christmases be white.” Leon wasn’t the best of the singers but he would sing his heart out to his daughter. It was a tradition now since Leon never had someone to sing to him. The baby calmed down at a comical rate, as if she just needed her dad’s embrace to feel safe. She was safe. As long as Leon lives, you and his miracle would have the best life ever.

“I’m almost jealous, she falls asleep so fast with you.” You set down the box, stretching your arms. This is the first box out of so many, you weren’t the biggest spender nor a shopaholic but when you married Leon, some perks came with him. Those perks included having unlimited access to his black card which you use wisely. 

Wisely was an understatement, though. Having several copies of the same gingerbread man who dances every time you press a button wasn’t the wisest decision. But you and your daughter love it so Leon has to shut up. Everything for his family.

In the past, Christmas was a simple but dreadful date. He didn’t understand the point of it. When he was a rookie cop, he at least tried to force some polite smiles and give words of affirmations to his colleagues back at the police academy. He stupidly thought that once he got to work, his life would change. But the universe had other plans for him that night in September. He spent that year’s Christmas wishing to die. The government had taken away his right to end his life. Dying wasn't an option. The girl he saved back in Raccoon City, Sherry, needed him. 

Year after year, he grew resentful, angry and bitter. He expected to spend this holiday alone until his last days of life. Having to grow old and wither away, no one to care, no one who would remember him as a human and not a machine. Not the government’s lap dog.

But somehow, he met you. He was a dick at first, he knew it. Until this day, he never understood how you could choose him.  There was no guarantee he wouldn’t go back to his addiction one day. He vowed to never do it again, and he was sure to keep his promise. However, you could never know the extent of his words. You lived –at least to Leon– uncertain of how long he would be sober. But much to his dismay (or pleasure) you gave a chance to that renewed man, to that agent who had come from a mission in San Francisco that almost got him killed.

He was content with just you. He never asked for more, scared of being too greedy, too wishful. Your presence was enough for him, your smile made all of his problems go away. Your tender words were the medicine for his broken and beaten up heart, every last bit of self hatred went away with you. There was nothing else he wanted.

Until he realized that maybe, he could have the life he had always wanted.

When you announced you were expecting, Leon couldn’t show his happiness at first. He was scared. Hell, he even had to take a deep breath before telling you something. He never had a father, well he had one but his memories are too foggy. He grew up thinking kids were a mistake and that somehow, he was a mistake, too. 

He found himself slipping into the unborn baby's room when you were asleep. Watching how both of you have decorated the space where your little one will be welcomed. His fingers grazed over the white crib, already imagining what his daughter would look like. He likes to think he looks like his own mother, a blurry memory of her blonde hair swaying with the wind. His daughter will have a better life than his. He's going to fight for it.

His eyes would travel over your body. He knew how anatomy worked but watching it before his eyes was so extraordinary. Your little miracle was safely tucked inside of your belly. He has always known you were beautiful but damn – it seems that motherhood suits you a little too well. He was grateful, really grateful. You gave him the opportunity to indulge in the normal and domestic kind of life. 

“She's already asleep.” Your sweet voice called him, bringing him back to the present. While he was reminiscing about the past, the baby had already fallen asleep. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she breathed softly. Her tiny fingers still gripping his shirt.

“She's so lazy.” Leon whispered, his voice filled with softness and lighthearted teasing. He gently laid her on the couch, making sure to place some pillows around her in case she moved. A welcomed and soothing silence surrounded your still not decorated room. This was the perfect opportunity to start your Christmas task.

“You know… Now you can help me put up the countless decorations we have in these boxes.” You chuckled as you placed your hand on Leon’s cheek, your thumb grazing against the growing stubble. You loved moments like this where the only thing that lingered in the air was normalcy and harmony, no missions, no worries, just a happy family. 

“I’ll help you if you promise you won’t judge my artistic side.” His lips turned into a sly smirk before he pressed soft kisses against your lips. A sweet yet sincere demonstration of love. He always worries he’s not enough. You play your role as wife and mother, so he ought to be the best husband and father he can be while also balancing his job life. No bioweapon could compare with the fear of losing his own little family because of himself.

Time seems to fly when you’re surrounded with love, Leon lives by that saying. You both decided to put up the tree first since that’s the most arduous task to complete. It takes you almost an hour between placing the ornaments in the correct place and Leon being scolded because he can’t match colors even if his life depended on it. 

“Now big boy, you gotta put the star at the top.” You crossed your arms as Leon placed the last ornament on the tree. It wasn’t the best tree, especially since Leon didn’t give any artistic advice on his side. Some colors looked rather odd combined with others, but Leon thought it was abstract.

Almost inaudible babblings made you turn around and found your baby already awake. She was playing by herself, her hands reaching for the ceiling. You had to admit it – she was sometimes an angel. She easily entertained herself and barely cried. 

You reached for her and walked toward the tree. Now her fingers tried to grab the Christmas ornaments. The colors reflecting on her blue eyes – that she got from Leon. By the way she kept babbling nonsense it almost looked like she was talking.

“Huh? Right I told your mom that too but she didn’t like the idea.” Leon acted like he understood what the little one was saying. And she also engaged in the conversation, two people against your own ideas.

For a few minutes, you focused on your daughter and how amazed she seems to be with everything. In her own world, that tree was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

But out of nowhere, both of you looked back at Leon who was sniffing and gently sobbing in front of the tree.

“Sorry, sorry…” He chuckled before wiping away some of the tears that continued falling without stopping. He then waved his hand dismissively, expecting you to drop the subject. Now he had two pairs of eyes intensely looking at him, yours and your baby’s.

After a short while of him trying to keep his tears of joy at bay, he eventually spoke once again.

“Thank you. For… For this.” A gentle smile formed in his face as he opened his arms. You wasted no time to welcome the hug. Now, the three of you were in front of the Christmas tree. The babbling, the sobs, and the soothing music in the background formed a domestic and warm scene. Full of love, emotions, and devotion. His thank you conveyed so much more than just merely words of gratitude. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for believing in me, and thank you for marrying me and thank you for giving me the family I never had. He wanted to say those things, but he remained silent. He knew you would understand the meaning behind his simple thank you.

He would have never expected something like this. He had always thought he was doomed from the start. That his life would be about saving others and never being saved. But he was saved, and he will always be saved.

His daughter’s hands reached for his face, her fingers grabbing his cheeks and nose. Leon obliged, moving his face closer. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until her lips moved on her own.

“Dada!”

He will never shut up now.

[wardenparker]

Mother Knows Best

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, meddling mama, cursing, reader is an unapologetic nerd, flirting with books, BDSM mention (but no portrayal), vagina sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise and a little dirty talk. Summary: Marcus Pike's mother has a tendency to overstep a little. While she means well, any time she has ever tried to set him up it has always turned out terribly. This time, though, she's pretty sure she has it right when she arranges for Marcus to go on a blind date with the youngest member of her book club. Notes: This all kind of sprang out of a TikTok I found about a bookshop date idea. And I'm not sorry about it in the least. Also, subtle shout out to my brother-in-law's band is buried in conversation 🎶

"Marcus sweetie, what are you doing on Saturday?" Donna Pike is pulling weeds in her garden with her younger son in a lounge chair nearby, and she tries to make the question as nonchalant as possible. It's Sunday now and she might as well be asking what he wants for dinner. Although her idea of what he might be doing for dinner on the night in question is almost definitely different than whatever Marcus might have in mind. He has been back in Washington D.C. for almost four months and has spent the whole time sulking – something that no mother likes to see.

Marcus is probably more relaxed than he's been in a few months. Finally deciding that he is better off without Teresa since she would rather be with someone else more than him. His eyes half closed as he holds his beer, he answers without even thinking about it. Or why giving his mother an empty day without plans wasn't a good idea. "Nothing." He hums, smiling slightly at the thought of not having any work or responsibilities.

"Oh?" Donna smirks, glancing over her shoulder to see Marcus has his eyes shut as he sits in the sun. "No dinner plans? Drinks with coworkers?" She asks carefully, keeping her tone breezy as she weeds the tomato bed.

"Not a damn thing." He admits again, not seeing the smirk on his mother's face, otherwise alarm bells would be sounding in his head. Instead, he's plotting what he will do with his day off. Hopefully sleeping until ten is the first thing on the list. Then he might take a book out to the Mall lawn and read in the sun. Pick up one of those touristy drinks to sip on as he does.

"So..." Training one eye on him as she pulls another weed up from the root, Donna's lip curls into a smile. "You would be free for dinner, then?"

"You want me to take you to dinner?" Marcus's father passed nearly eight years ago and when he could, he would take his mother out to a nice dinner. Making sure that she felt special. "Sure."

"Not exactly what I had in mind, sweetie." Donna is all-out grinning at this point, and maybe even a little evilly. "Do you remember my telling you about a new girl joining our book club? She works with Marjorie Klein at the Library of Congress?" Every time Marjorie talked about her new colleague it seemed like the younger woman would be a perfect fit for their group, so six months ago they had offered up the empty spot at their table. Now, every time Donna Pike sees or hears from you, she seems to become more and more convinced that you would be perfect for her youngest child.

"Mom...no." Marcus shakes his head and immediately drowns the rest of his beer bottle and desperately wishes another would appear. "No, no, you aren't setting me up, again."

"But Marcus she's such a good match!" She won't say 'perfect' because that will make Marcus revolt and probably run away screaming. But she has such a good feeling about this one. "And I might have already scheduled the date with her..." Might is such an innocent lie. She definitely already scheduled the blind date with you after giving you a few background details on her baby boy.

“Mooooooooooom.” The sigh Marcus gives is one of extreme frustration. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but no. I can get my own dates.” The truth was, his mother had horrible taste in choosing women that she thought Marcus would be interested in.

"Oh yeah?" Donna tucks her proverbial tongue securely in her cheek. "Is that why you've been hanging around your old Ma's house so much the last few months? Because you're so good at getting your own dates?" She tilts her head at him and waves one hand, dismissing the tease immediately. "She's sweet, Marcus. And so smart. You don't have to marry the girl, but it's hard to get back out there sometimes. Just...give it a try?"

“It’s— I just got out of that thing with Teresa, Ma.” He reminds her and notices the expectant look on his mother’s face. She’s well meaning, really she is, but god does she meddle. “You already told her I would go out with her, didn’t you?”

“The thing with Teresa was months ago.” Donna’s grin spreads like wildfire. “She’s a nice girl and I called in a favor to get you a table at Founding Farmer’s because I know you like to keep the first date kind of casual.” Something she considers a mistake, but she knew that if she had gone and made a reservation somewhere more upscale then Marcus would squawk.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus groans, slapping his hand over his face and imagining how boring and completely incompatible this woman is for his mother to talk about how nice and sweet she is. All the other girls she has tried to hook Marcus up with since he was a teenager have been a train wreck. “What time?” He sighs, resigned to his Saturday being ruined.

“Seven-thirty.” Crows his mother, who definitely made sure that the reservation was early enough in the night that they could do something else afterward. “I really think you’re going to like her, sweetie.”

He thinks he’ll be wasting an hour of his life but he grunts in response, already dreading Saturday.

******

You’re probably taking this far too seriously, all things considered. The book club of mostly middle-aged and older ladies that you had been offered a place in by one of your coworkers has been really nice. Everybody sits around and drinks and gossips about the book characters like they’re real people, and there is always good food. You like the ladies in the book club, you really do. But this whole idea of a blind date with Donna Pike’s son has you nervous for some reason.

Blind dates don’t typically go well for you but you’re honestly kind of desperate. It’s been nearly a year since your last date that even qualifies as mediocre and at this point you would say yes to just about anyone halfway decent. And with that in mind, you kiss your cat goodbye and smooth one hand down your floral sundress before slinging on your leather jacket to keep out the autumnal chill. If nothing else, maybe you’ll have a nice meal tonight.

Marcus sighs as he checks his reflection in the mirror one more time. He had opted to leave the suit at home, but couldn’t dress down completely casual. The restaurant that his mom had chosen would be nice enough that slacks, a polo and a sports coat wouldn’t look too out of place. Despite his reservations, he is wanting to make an effort. He sniffs his cologne to make sure he didn’t douse himself and picks up his keys. Off to see what a nightmare this would be, although he hopes that this girl won’t throw a glass of wine in his face when he reveals he’s a federal agent.

Founding Farmer’s is bustling when you arrive, packed to the gills and you wonder if the younger Pike brother thought to make reservations. For now you adjust the (admittedly cheesy) flower in your jacket lapel and slide over to the bar to order a cocktail. If he stands you up, you at least want to have a drink in hand to soothe the embarrassment.

There had been a fierce internal debate on if he should stop outside the little flower stand that was just a block down from the restaurant to buy some flowers. Romantic Marcus would do it, and even though he had not asked this girl out, she deserves the niceties that had been bred into him after watching his father continuously court his mother through their marriage. When he enters the door of the Founding Farmer's, he can see why he had to park two blocks away and is grateful that his mother had made reservations. "I— I have a reservation. Marcus Pike." He tells the frazzled hostess. "But I'm waiting for someone...." He cranes his neck to look around, not sure exactly who he is looking for. His mother had been very vague with the physical description, which doesn't help on a blind date.

You hear him before you see him — sitting just a few feet behind the hostess stand is strategic, and you hear him give his name. The most careful sneak of a peak nearly has your jaw on the ground and you sit straight up again immediately. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely drop-dead movie star level gorgeous. And he’s carrying flowers identical to the one tucked into your jacket, making you smile unexpectedly. “Marcus?” You turn slowly on your stool, hoping you’re not about to make an idiot of yourself.

He hears his name and looks around again, his eyes searching until they fall on a lovely looking woman wearing a pretty sundress and jacket. A flower in her lapel in a move that immediately makes him grin at the old-style charm of the gesture. He nods and says the name his mother gave him, finding himself hoping that you are that person.

“That’s me.” Sliding off of your stool with your glass in hand, you put out your other hand to him and smile. His mother absolutely failed to mention that her son is an absolute dreamboat. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I’ve heard a hundred stories about you and your brother already.”

You're pretty. Maybe it's shallow, or vain even, but Marcus had been worried when his mother had focused so hard on how nice and sweet you are. He's not the type of man who insults someone because of their looks, but physical attraction is a basic for any romantic relationship and some of the women who would be just ‘perfect’ for him in his mother's eyes didn't fit in any of the categories. Not even intellectually. He shakes your hand firmly and smiles. "It's all lies, I swear." He jokes, offering you the flowers. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage because I know your name and that you are sweet."

"The ladies in the book club sort of adopted me." The flowers are beautiful, and fresh, and you inhale the scent happily as the hostess leads you to a small, secluded table in the corner. "And I..." You laugh self-consciously, shrugging a little. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was all Donna's idea. So if we don't get along or something, it's no hard feelings."

"I have to apologize." Marcus shakes his head, enjoying the sounds of your light, nervous laugh. "My mother likes to meddle, so if you weren't actually interested, I will understand." He moves to pull out your chair for you when the hostess indicates the table and looks at you expectantly. It's your choice if you wish to sit down or not.

Maybe it's shallow – to take one look at him and know for sure that you're at least going to ride out this dinner to see what he's like. But then, isn't that what blind dates are, at least a little? Judging a book by its cover and then taking a peek to see what's inside? "I think it would be a shame to miss out on making a new friend, even if that's all this amounts to," you tell him as you sit down.

He can agree with that, admire it even. Smiling again and he wonders if that's all this will amount to. "What are you drinking?" He asks, nodding towards your glass that you had brought from the bar.

"It's called a Farmer's Daughter," you tell him, holding up the half-drunk glass of delicious fruity-boozy goodness. "Vodka, lime, passion fruit, raspberry...something else that I didn't know what it was so I can't remember what it's called. Domaine de something?" Shrugging shelf-consciously, you offer him the glass to try a sip. "It's fantastic."

It's charming the way you offer him a drink. He takes it and tries a small sip. "That's good." He agrees. "I was going to suggest a bottle of wine, but perhaps another of these?" He asks you.

The hostess nods and disappears after leaving your menus, and you sit back in your seat a little bit more comfortably than before. "This place has their own spirits. It seemed too good to pass up, and turns out that was the right choice." A small smile plays on your lips and you really don't know where it's coming from but you feel strangely confident tonight. "So you're usually a wine guy?"

“I am.” He nods, knowing that he would happily split a bottle with good conversation and laughs. “Are you more of a cocktail girl?”

"Usually." Again, you shrug, but offer him a smile. "But only because I know nothing about wine. I'd like to learn, if I found that I knew somebody who wouldn't mind teaching me."

“Well, if you like, we can have one more of those delicious cocktails and I’ll order a bottle of my favorite wine for you to try?” He offers. “Or perhaps just a glass to share, and if you don’t like it, we can explore what you do like?”

"That sounds like fun, actually." Normally when a guy offered to 'teach' you something it was just him insisting that he knew all the best of something or had every fact memorized. Marcus isn't like that and you relax just a little bit more with this discovery. A little bit of sharing and get to know you is perfect for a first date.

“Yeah?” He grins and nods, admiring your sense of adventure and that smile that you are giving him. “Okay, so the wine I like is kinda of dry, a red. That sound okay?”

"Sure." You agree brightly, basically up for trying whatever he suggests. "Like I said, I know nothing about wine. You could be ordering the stuff that comes in a box and I would just trust you that it's good."

He laughs, enjoying your honestly. “No boxed stuff, I promise.” He tells you and thanks the waiter when he comes back with your cocktail. “I’m sorry, but could we also have a glass of the Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva 2012?” He asks with a small shrug. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, and now I do.”

Oblivious to the fact that that could have been an entendre, the waiter just nods and walks away, leaving the two of you alone at your cozy table again. "So..." you can't help the way your cheeks have gotten a little warmer in the last few seconds. "Is there anything you would like to know about me up front? You said your mother didn't tell you much."

“She did tell me that you work at the Library of Congress.” Marcus nudges the new drink towards you and takes the half finished one. He’s already drank after you, so it’s nothing to him. “So what do you do there?”

"I am a preservationist in the Children's Literature Center." Your work is delicate, and it is important, but some people find it unbelievable that your entire career is dedicated specifically to kids' books. "I'm part of the team that is digitizing rare children's books so that their contents will never be lost."

“Wow.” He’s impressed, knowing that is important work. Literature sound be preserved for the future generations to enjoy, much like art. “That’s— that’s gotta be pretty interesting day in and day out.”

“It’s no game of cops and robbers.” His mother had bragged about his promotions more than once, and you can’t help but smirk slightly when his ears turn red. “But I keep busy.”

“So you know that I’m a federal agent?” He asks, not sure what all his mother had rambled on about. Knowing her, she had told you about every girlfriend he had.

“Yes. Donna is extremely proud of you, so we all heard all about the last promotion.” Taking a sip of your drink, you feel just a touch of warmth is your cheeks that is all attraction and not from the cocktail at all. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He bites his lip, caught between being embarrassed his mom was talking him up and enjoying the congratulations. The joy of his success has been sucked away by the Teresa thing, but he’s been trying to get back on track. “She’s just happy I’m close.”

“She’s very glad you’re home.” You can absolutely attest to that. It’s sweet, actually. They clearly get along well. “It sounds like if she could get your older brother to move back, she’d be in heaven having you both here.”

“Don’t think he’ll be moving to D.C. anytime soon.” Marcus admits. “But she’s happy to get out of the cold to go visit him during Christmas.”

“Louisiana always sounded like fun to be. Like a completely different world from anywhere else.” Probably that thought comes from having grown up in the thick of the Canadian border, but still. It seemed romantic to think about. “She said he’s in New Orleans?”

“Yeah.” He nods and grins. “He keeps telling me to come down for Mardi Gras.”

“Sounds like fun.” He has just one perfect dimple and you swear this is the first time you’ve understood why anyone would swoon. “Are you liking being back in DC, at least?”

“What’s not to love?” He asks, looking up again when the waiter returns with the glass of wine. “The museum, the Mall, the historic sites. I love walking through the Smithsonian.”

“I will absolutely drink to that,” you agree without hesitation. “This city is pretty much perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

He hums as he hands you the glass. “Try a sip of this, it’s dry but floral. I love this with a good cheese board.”

“A charcuterie guy, too? Nothing I love more than Adult Lunchables.” The grin on your face grows as you take the glass, giving it a sniff like you have any idea whatsoever what to look for, and take an adventurous sip. “Ooh that’s…I don’t know what I was expecting but that’s great. It’s like…it’s rich but it’s not heavy, if that makes sense?”

He nods and grins at you. “Now, imagine it with a funky cheese and a tart grape. Or a salty cracker.” He tells you, proud that you enjoy it. “Maybe a glass with dinner?”

“Absolutely.” It’s like a wake up for your senses, and even though you enjoy the sweet cocktail that you had ordered initially, the wine sounds like a decadent and very mature option for dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’ll order for food yet?”

“I figured I was going to order the braised short ribs with wilted summer greens and braised carrots.” He tells you, having looked at the menu before he ever arrived.

“Sounds pretty perfect.” When the waiter comes back you fill out your order, getting a basket of the kettle corn that the waiter gushes over to start with and ordering your dinners with another glass of wine so you can both indulge a little as you get to know each other.

“So, were you as nervous about tonight as I was?” The wine is being passed back and forth between you as your cocktail has been abandoned. He takes a sip and raises a brow at you in challenge.

"Terrified," you admit with a small laugh, but there is no point in trying to act smooth or more charming than you are. You're a slightly awkward person in general, and sometimes that can be charming all on its own. Or so you've been told. "I'm not...great at dating. Then the book club ladies took it upon themselves to figure out whose son was closest to my age and, well...here we are."

He laughs at the image you paint, all the ladies tossing out their eligible sons’ birthdays like trading cards. “Well, hopefully, you are enjoying yourself.” He offers with a grin, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in. The liquor and wine are loosening him up slightly, but it’s more that he’s enjoying conversing with you. Something he’s really missed about dating or being in a relationship with someone.

"I really am." His laugh is deep and rings in his chest, making his smile a little broader every time and making you wish that you had thought of something compelling or deeply interesting to tell him about yourself before setting foot in this restaurant tonight. But you had feared the worst, and expected the mediocre, so maybe that was the entire reason you found yourself enjoying this night? Simply by being handsome, intelligent, charming, and interesting, he was already blowing every single expectation you had out of the water. "Hopefully you are, too?"

“I am.” He gives you a small, self-conscious shrug. “My mother doesn’t have the best record when it comes to setting me up.” He admits. “The last one was a part of some antigovernment group and threw a glass of wine in my face when she found out I was, quote, a ‘fed pig’.” He tells you with the air quotes.

“That…” It takes a beat of extreme self-control not to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but you manage to keep yourself together. “Please say she didn’t know that this girl was anti-government when she set you up?”

“She had met her in her favorite bookstore.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Didn’t have a clue but she had to find another bookstore because it was the girl behind the counter.”

“But she tries to find you girls that read, huh?” That encourages you a bit. That Donna considers her son that intelligent. After all, he can’t be a slouch – not in art crimes. He has to at least have a little history and culture under his belt.

“I don’t want to always talk work, or politics.” He admits. “She had raised me to love reading and I’m forever grateful for that.”

“What do you like to read?” The question is automatic for you – something that you always ask new acquaintances and especially dates. It’s an important part of getting to know someone. “Personal curiosity as well as professional. I promise.”

“I can read anything.” Marcus tells you. “But, I spend so much time reading reports that I really enjoy fiction. Thrillers, intrigue. Even the odd romance novel.” He blushes when he admits that but he’s not going to lie.

“A good romance novel is entirely underrated. They’re great character studies. Plus?” You grin and pick up a piece of popcorn. There are only a few left in the basket and you’re enjoying the salty-sweetness with his dry wine. “Anyone who claims they don’t enjoy love stories is either lying or a bummer.”

“It’s like not liking classic movies.” He agrees with a grin. “I feel like some of the emotion has been lost. You give me Casablanca any day and I’ll show you a movie that is about loss as much as it is love.”

“I dumped a guy once for not liking classic movies,” you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. “He said that black and white was dumb because life is in color so ‘why weren’t all movies?’ And that all the stories were too trope-y. Can you believe that? Where did he think the tropes came from in the first place?”

“They are the model for the tropes.” He chuckles. “We had a class when I was in high school where you read classic literature and watched classic movies. I think it should be standard around the country. It helped shape my love of black and white movies.”

“I used to watch them with my mom whenever I was home sick.” Those memories are still so vivid for you, and precious. It had felt like a personal insult and not just a preference when the previous guy had talked down about classic cinema. “She got to see Katharine Hepburn in Coco in New York City when she was little and just worshipped her ever since. So, of course, I did too. And we would just watch everything we could get our hands on.”

“Oh wow.” Marcus is impressed and he shows it. “It would have been something, I’m sure.” He agrees. “I’m not all classical though. I like a good mix of modern as well. My old band used to play in Texas and I would go see them.”

“That’s right.” Donna had told you all about his band, of course, but it had slipped your mind while you got distracted over how attractive Marcus is. “Bass player, right?”

“Yeah.” He huffs out a small laugh, wondering if his mother had complained that he hadn’t wanted to cut his hair when he was playing, or if she was bragging. “And some vocals. Mainly backup.”

“Don’t downplay it.” You grin, watching his cheeks turn pink yet again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And getting on stage? I think I’d panic. That’s something you can be really proud of.”

“It’s not that bad.” Marcus tells you. “Just pick the prettiest girl and imagine them – uh –” he falters for a second. “Kissing you.” He supplies.

“Is that how you get past stage fright?” You have definitely never heard of that particular tactic before and you nearly giggle with how embarrassed Marcus looks admitting it. “Seems like we ought to get you back on stage then, shouldn’t we? That’s a very nice fantasy to let yourself play out.”

“Nahhh it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a stage.” He admits. “I like to just drink a beer and dance with the pretty girl.”

“Oh yeah?” The impulse to insinuate yourself into that situation is deep but you just smile, knowing very well that your cheeks and ears are burning with the thought. “Sounds…pretty perfect.”

“Yeah?” He grins and there’s a partial idea forming for later tonight if the rest of dinner goes like it is now. “Does it sound good to you?” He asks. “What’s your ideal date?”

“I—” Clearing your throat slightly, your skin burns even more. “Dinner and dancing, probably? Or going to see a screening of an old movie together.” Taking a sip of the wine before you hand it back to him, you brace yourself for the tingle you’ve been getting whenever your fingers brush. “I saw a TikTok the other day of a bookstore date, too. That looked fun.”

“A bookstore date?” He’s intrigued on that what that would entail. He leans in and snags the wine glass to take another sip. He should really order another glass so you each have your own, but there is something oddly fun about sharing. “Tell me about that.”

“It’s silly.” But somehow, you think he might like silly. “There’s this list of prompts. And you roll a die to see which prompt you get and you’re supposed to go all over the bookstore looking for a book to read that fits the prompts. It’s…to a librarian it sounds fantastic…choosing books for each other and having an automatic something to talk about on the next date, ya know?”

“That sounds like a great date.” Marcus agrees, liking the adventurousness of it. “A really good date. Maybe even you have to call the other person to read them a portion of the book that appeals to you.”

“I haven’t had anybody read to me in ages…” You can feel how soft you get in response to the idea but you just can’t seem to care. Every few minutes Marcus Pike seems to get more and more perfect. “That sounds absolutely dreamy.”

“You haven’t?” He’s surprised at that, and then there’s a little fantasy that plays out in his head. Calling you every night that he could and reading a few paragraphs to you while you are snuggled in your bed. “Maybe that will change.” He hums.

"I think I'd like that." The way he says it makes you feel so hopeful, like maybe this night is going as well for him as it is for you, and you bite your lip to hold back a full-force grin. "I think I'd like that a whole lot."

Marcus actually hates when the waiter comes back to order the meals, allowing you to order first and he puts in his order for his own meal and asks for another glass of wine. “Do you want one, or do you want to keep sharing?”

"I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the sharing," you admit with an embarrassed grin. This waiter just smiles politely and steps away, having seen plenty of good and bad dates over his career and not really thinking anything of the request.

“I like it too.” He admits with a matching grin. “Although if we order dessert, we’ll need to change to different wine.” He tells you.

"Ah, so my education continues?" He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't thinking about it in the back of his mind, and that makes your smile grow. "I know I've seen Dessert wines listed on menus before but other than knowing they exist, I don't think I could name anything else about them."

“They are sweeter, crisper.” He tells you. “Meant to enhance the flavor of the desserts. We will have to see if we have room.” He grins. “My sides are meant to be shared.”

“Maybe we’ll have to come back?” You venture, hopeful at the idea that tonight is going well enough to lead to a second date.

“It is a very good wine list.” He tells you with a grin. “Although there’s this little place down near the Potomac that is a wine bar paired with your – what did you call it? Adult Lunchables?” He tilts his head. “I think you might like that.”

The fact that he picks up on the thread immediately makes you flush warm again and grin so broadly that your cheeks ache. “It sounds perfect,” you admit. “Although I think Donna might float just a little if she finds out we’re planning date number two before the entree is even served on date number one.”

“We don’t have to tell her.” His own grin turns slightly mischievous. “Let her dangle for a bit before we let her know about that. It’ll drive her crazy.”

"You know I'm going to get just as many voicemails as you, right?" The devilish smile highlights his dimple far too perfectly and just about has you swooning, but you manage to keep it down to just a girlish giggle. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me, Marcus?"

“Depends on what you think is bad.” Marcus quips, winking at you as he leans back. You are charming, funny, sweet. All things that his mother had noted but he’s also attracted to you. And thoroughly enjoying this date.

Confidence looks very fucking sexy on him, and you end up leaning forward instinctively when he leans back, like he's pulling a string somewhere inside your ribcage when he goes. "Maybe I like bad. And I'm just making sure I'm going to enjoy myself?"

There’s a split second where Marcus has a choice on if he’s going to make a dirty innuendo, just like you have. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.” He promises, that grin turning slightly salacious. “Multiple times.”

He knows full fucking well what he’s doing, and the poorly timed sip of wine you have just taken nearly comes out your nose when you quickly cover your mouth with one hand to keep from spitting it everywhere or even choking on it. “Guarantee, huh?” When you can breathe again and don’t have wine in your mouth anymore, you manage to raise one steady eyebrow at him. “You’re a very confident man, Agent Pike.”

“It’s a money back kind of thing.” He teases, enjoying the easy banter and the fact that you are leaning into the atmosphere rather than getting offended by it.

“Oh, I see.” You tease right back, loving the freedom in the atmosphere between you. “So I’m investing in my future enjoyment?”

“Exactly.” He hums, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “You understand perfectly.”

******

“I don’t think I can do it,” you groan playfully, looking over the empty plates of the amazing dinner you just shared and knowing that dessert would have disastrous consequences. “I think I might pop like a balloon.”

“It was a lot of food.” Marcus admits, his own stomach edging just on the cusp of being overly full. “Plus the wine. So I don’t think I can make room either.” He sighs and leans back to rub his belly just to tease.

“It’s a good thing it’s a beautiful night for a walk.” The thought had been brewing for a while, and you offer Marcus a hopeful smile. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”

“Absolutely.” The check is discreetly placed by his elbow and he shakes his head when you move to your purse. “This is my treat.” He insists, pulling out his wallet and putting his credit card down without glancing at the bill.

“Then next time will be mine,” you insist, having a feeling that Marcus is not at all the kind of guy to let that fly, but at the same time you have to wonder when the last time was that he allowed anyone to take care of him.

He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. “So, where would you like to walk?” He asks. “There’s a lot of little shops and bars nearby.”

Pennsylvania Avenue is certainly lively, and since you had taken the Metro you don’t particularly care what direction you head in. “We could always head toward the Mall and let ourselves get distracted along the way?” You suggest, wanting to leave the night wide open for anything or everything.

“That sounds good to me.” Marcus brought his car, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the parking isn’t by the hours. “Do you have comfortable enough shoes on?” He hadn’t noticed your footwear, but he wants to check.

“I’m not really a heels kind of girl,” you admit, hoping that that won’t break some kind of weird unconscious rule he has in his head. You’ve been told before that you should dress more femininely but the idea that high heels are the only feminine footwear seems utterly ridiculous. “And I’m always up for a walk.”

“That’s good.” He chuckles and when both of you stand from the table he kicks out a foot and shows his comfortable loafers. “I have to wear dress shoes at work, but I’m never going to bash comfortable footwear.”

“I learned a long time ago that knee-high boots go with almost any dress or skirt.” You take his arm when he offers it – very gentlemanly – and before you know it you’re out in the crisp night air. The moon is high and the streetlamps are bright, and you sigh a little contentment. Tonight is so, so much better than you thought it was going to be.

“That sigh is either a very good sign or a bad one.” He teases, looking over at you with a playful grin. “Can I ask which?”

“It’s good, I promise.” And as if to prove you, you send him a beaming smile. “I was just thinking how nice the night is, that’s all.”

“It is a nice night.” Marcus agrees. The air has just a bite to it without being bitter and yet it is still cozy. The dark night is illuminated by the streetlamps and the noise from bars and shops spills out onto the sidewalk in muted tones. “It seems magical, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” You agree with a grin, but for you, that magic is pouring off him – not the street around you.

******

“Hey look.” It’s a building that he hasn’t really noticed before but maybe it’s because he hadn’t been looking for it before. “Do you want to stop?”

“Sure.” You’d agree to almost anything right now and you shrug. “What is it?”

“Well, the name is Tomes and Tannins, so I’m thinking it might be one of those trendy wine shop slash bookstores?” He grins at you. “Why don’t we find out?”

“That is a level of fancy I never thought I would reach,” you admit with a grin and let him lead you inside. It’s deceptively mood-lit inside but with enough supplemental lights that you can read everything you need to, and there are cafe tables with chairs smattered around some mismatched armchairs and ever sofas with drink tables at either end. It’s cozy and welcoming, and obviously meant for you to stay a while.

“Hmmm this looks promising, right?” He asks, looking to see if you approve. “Interesting place.”

“Books and wine? Sounds amazing and looks even better.” A beaming smile of affirmation is all for him and you nudge him toward the stacks. “Where do you want to start?”

“Well…” he smirks slightly. “Show me that date idea that you liked? Picking out books for the other to read?”

“Oh!” Somehow you had already forgotten, and grin guiltily as you pull up the list of twenty prompts on your phone. “You’re supposed to roll a die to find out what numbers you get. Roll a die, find a book for each of us that fits the prompt, and just keep going until we decide we have our arms full.” Digging into your purse, you come out with a d20 from when you play Dungeons and Dragons with your friends and hold it up. “Do you want to go first?”

“Ladies first.” Marcus grins and motions towards a bookshelf. “Roll there and we will see what we come up with.”

Normally a high roll would be a great thing to get, but as you stare at the 17 that pops up on the die, you skim down the list on your phone and feel yourself smirk. “Number seventeen. A book that inspired a tv show or movie.”

“Now is this for me to find for you?” Marcus asks seriously. “Or is this your criteria for my book?”

“I think we’re both supposed to pick a book for each other that fits the category.” The video hadn’t exactly been clear, but that is how you interpreted it. And it sounded like the most fun way to do it anyway.

“Okay. So we each find the other a book that inspired a tv show or movie.” He agrees. “I say I roll and then we separate. We don’t show the other the book until we are done picking them out.”

“Alright.” You hold up the d20 to offer it to him. “Roll away, G-man.”

Marcus plucks the die from your fingers and puts it in his palm to close his fist around him. Grinning as he blows on it playfully like he’s rolling dice in a casino. “Here we go.” He tells you before tossing it down.

It's playful and sweet, and you giggle softly when the die hits the shelf and comes up with the number 5. You consult your list, tilting your head with a grin when you read what category he ended up with. "Number five. A book with an overly long title."

He hums and nods. “Why don’t we add a little bit of a challenge?” He asks. You tilt your head curiously, obviously interested. “We have ten minutes per book, so twenty minutes total. When the twenty minutes is up, we meet at the tables to have a glass of wine and exchange books.”

"Deal." The element of a game makes you smile even more broadly, and you hold up your finger before he can jet away from you. "One more thing?" You ask and wait until he nods. "I want to know your least favourite book of all time. Just so I don't grab it by accident."

“Honestly?” He gives you a guilty grin. “I hate the Lord of the Flies.” He admits with a small shrug. “Hated when it was required reading.”

"You are in no way the first person I've ever met who hated that book," you promise him, smothering a little laugh in the process. "I did not like Gone With the Wind. Couldn't even force myself to be empathetic with any of the characters, which is a shame. The plot is interesting."

“The movie is better, at least it’s watchable.” Marcus admits. “I always hated the scene after the little girl died.”

"Alright." Pulling out your phone, you set a timer for twenty minutes and watch him follow suit with that mischievous smile painted back in place. "Ten minutes for each book, and then we meet right back here for wine and to trade titles."

“Good luck.” With a wink, Marcus whirls around and rushes off, already having a title or three in mind.

It becomes a sort of secondary game – any time you run into each other in the maze of shelves you immediately guard the books you are carrying with your entire bodies and back away or even sprint away from each other so that the surprises won't be spoiled. It has the two of you giggling like idiots and has definitely attracted the attention of some of the other patrons, but no one seems to really mind. Who could possibly mind people having fun in a bookstore?

When he finds what he wants, Marcus barely resists hiding it under his jacket as he rushes up to the counter to make his purchase. Wondering if you will call him out or be disappointed. So he has a backup plan in case. Taking his bag and looking around the bookstore as he walks towards the table you agreed to meet him at.

You use an entire eighteen minutes debating whether or not it's cheating to just grab two of your favourite books to see if he'll like them before you finally just do it. They do fit the categories and he did say that he likes romances so one of them is only sort of a stretch. Grabbing the two novels, you head to the register and then back to the table, only to see him already sitting there. "You were speedy," you observe, raising one eyebrow as you sit down across from him at the table.

“I know what I want.” Marcus tells you, biting back the grin that he wants to display and feeling giddy for his reveal. He motions towards the board that displays what wines they have available. “Do you want to get a glass before we exchange?”

"Sure." He's being cheeky and it's sexy as hell, so you nod and bite back a grin. "You're the wine guru, so I'll try whatever you say is good."

“I think something sweet.” He decides. “A nice Shiraz for us to share?” He asks, wanting to know if you want your own glass or to share again.

"A shiraz to share sounds perfect." Not that you know what the hell shiraz is besides the obvious conclusion that it's wine, but the sharing part is what sounds best to you.

“Okay.” He nods and shoots you a wary look. “No peeking while I order.” He orders playfully, pointing at you. “I’ll be watching.”

He steps up to the counter and you dutifully put your hands on top of the brown paper bag stamped with the shop's logo that you paid for, not peaking in the bag he bought despite desperately wanting to. He comes back in less than three minutes but you're already near squirming in your seat because the suspense is killing you.

“Okay. This is a glass of Layer Cake.” He tells you. “Sounds good, but it’s honestly a first for me too.” He was feeling adventurous and wanted a new experience with you. He’s had shiraz, but he wanted to try this at the same time you did.

"So it's a new adventure for both of us, then." That somehow makes it feel romantic and not just sweet, but it would be silly to say so. "You take the first sip, I insist."

He chuckles. “So I can make sure it’s not poisoned?” He teases. “As you wish, my princess.”

The 'princess' bit makes your cheeks burn, but you don't want to admit that you want to know whether or not he likes it first. There's something about trying wines that makes you nervous and you don't want to accidentally end up loving something that he thinks is subpar. Maybe that's trying wines that is intimidating you, or maybe it's just that you like him. You can't tell, honestly.

Picking up the glass, he sniffs and hums before taking a sip. “Oh this is good.” He groans. “That would be good anytime you wanted wine.”

"Well now I'm excited." He hands the glass over to you and you take a sip, immediately sighing. "Oh, that's fantastic. That would have made me a wine person ages ago."

“I’m selfishly glad that you are exploring it with me.” He admits, admiring how you savor the wine and take another small sip.

"Feel free to be selfish, then, because this is fantastic." Handing the glass back to him, you waggle your bag in his direction with excitement. "Number seventeen or number five first?"

“You want to go first?” He asks, not caring at all. “Sure. Why don’t you surprise me?”

"Your librarian date is excited about books. This should be no surprise." Laughing as you reach into the bag, the book on top is what you decide to go with and you pull out an old faithful favourite. "Number five. A book with an overly long title." You tell him, presenting him with a copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg.

Marcus bites his lip and takes the book. “Okay.” He nods. “That is a long title.” He’s a little worried that you won’t like what he had chosen now.

"You look nervous." He does take the book, though, not reject it. "Have you read it before? It's okay if you have...or if you didn't like it." You're not one of those people who believes that a couple has to like all the same things, after all.

“No, no, I haven’t read this one.” He promises. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about. Especially since you seem to love it.”

"I do." It would be kind of useless to claim otherwise, and you sit back in your chair to accept the glass of wine from him. "What did you find for number five?"

“So…” he flashes you a small grin. “I kind of…cheated.” He admits. “I chose a book that is both five and seventeen.” He admits. “But now, so have you so I’m completely thinking that I fucked up. But I’ve got a corny ass back up.” He rushes out to assure you.

"You say cheating, I say creativity." You do bite your lip though, before admitting, "I actually have two of my favourite books that worked for what we rolled...so this is kind of just my excuse to show them to you. Which is also cheating. Just a little."

At least you aren’t mad. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautiful hardback book. “My book for you is this. The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure.” He slides the book in front of you.

It probably isn't the reaction he expects to have you almost tear up at the table, but you gently place your hands on the book and draw it closer to you like it is something delicate and precious – which, to you, it is. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned wanting to be read to, does it?" You ask him with a grin. "Marcus it's perfect. And believe it or not...despite this being one of my favourite movies? I've never read the book."

“You haven’t?” His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know which I like better, the movie or the book.” He admits. “I have my own copy at home.”

"I've read Cary Elwes' book, but somehow not the novel." The way he lights up at having made a good choice for you might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "I guess that's finally about to change."

“I did get another book but I decided it was a bit much after.” He admits, slightly flustered that he bought that book. But it has been made into a movie.

“What was the other one?” His ears have turned red and now you have to know, even nudging the wine glass back toward him in case he needs a little courage.

He blows out a breath and pulls out the other book from the bag. “Okay, but don’t judge me.” He begs, revealing the front of Fifty Shades of Grey.

“Why Marcus, is this a hint?” He has turned an even deeper shade of red and you can’t resist another giggle before batting your eyelashes at him.

“I— no, I don’t mean— it’s just that—” he sputters and chokes on his words before he heaves a sigh and drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I knew I should have just found something else.”

“You only should have grabbed something else if you didn’t mean to flirt with me,” you tell him honestly and pull your own book that inspired a tv show or movie out of your paper bag to hand him. The Duke & I by Julia Quinn now has images from the Bridgerton tv show splashed all over the cover, making it unmistakable. “You said you like romance novels sometimes,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ve not read this.” He admits, reaching for the book to read the inside cover. “It sounds interesting. This is a show right?”

“Bridgerton.” You nod, wondering what - if anything - he’s heard about it. “Most people call it something like… ‘horny Jane Austen’.”

He snorts and chuckles to himself as he continues to read it. “Then I see why it appeals.” He jokes. “Nothing like love and sex.”

“Technically isn’t that what this is, too?” You ask, waggling the copy of 50 Shades at him. “Just… kinkier.” It’s an honest question, really. Since you’ve never read it.

“It’s – not bad but you can tell that whoever wrote this is just guessing at what they think BDSM is about.” Marcus tells you.

"So...do that mean you do know what BDSM is about?" It's an intriguing thought, to imagine this otherwise very clean-cut looking guy being into anything kinky, and you can't say you hate it. Not at all.

"I—" He never should have opened his mouth. He never should have opened his goddamn mouth. If it was possible to get any hotter, Marcus swears his face would just burst into flames. This isn't something that his mother would know because there is zero chance in hell he would ever tell her. "I was undercover." He explains. "The people I was— associating with, they were into that kind of scene." He bites his lip. "I had to do a lot of research on it, but I've never actually, you know, uh, practiced it." He assures you.

"Please don't think I'm judging," you reach over the table quickly to give his hand a squeeze and shake your head vehemently. "Honestly, if anything? I find it very...interesting. But have never practiced any of it, either."

"I just don't want you thinking that I'm—" He shrugs slightly. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. Normally I'm more confident than this, but not this time." He chuckles quietly.

"You don't want me to think you're kinky?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. "It's not a bad thing to be. But...I'm sorry if I did anything to shake that confidence." With a half-smirk, you shrug one shoulder in admission. "I promise you'd be extremely confident if you could hear the monologue in my head tonight."

"You didn't do anything, I promise." Marcus reaches out after you had pulled back and takes your hand again. "My last...relationship. She's the one that kind of screwed with my head." He confesses quietly. "But I want to know about this internal monologue of yours."

"The coworker." Of course his mother had told you about his ex-fiancée. She hadn't wanted you to feel like she was throwing you into an unknown situation. "From what your mom said...she sounds like she was a little...dishonest? And that's bullshit. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's done." There's nothing he can do to change it, and he's not sure that he would want to now that he's looking back on the situation. "But I'm hoping that I can get that confidence back."

"Well, if you hadn't said anything, I never would have known that this is the less confident version of you." His hand dwarfs yours, the warmth of it completely welcoming and overtaking all your senses. And it's so, so welcome.

"Is the book, alright?" He asks. "You can just read the first one if you want."

"Oh, no." The grin you aim his way is mischievous. "I'm definitely going to read both. Who knows? I might learn something."

"Have you seen the movies?" He asks curiously.

"No..." You can feel your cheeks heat up all over again. "It always seemed...I don't know, maybe I'm just really vanilla, but they always seemed so close to porn to me?" Not that that is a bad thing. And not that you don't watch your share of porn. Just usually not of the BDSM variety.

"It was actually pretty tastefully done." Marcus admits. "I've seen them. My ex wanted to see them, so..." He shrugs. "You go see them."

"See? You're already a font of information compared to me." His hand is still covering yours and you shiver a little at the innuendo of it all. Of how warm and tempting he is. "I guess I'll have to catch up. Educate myself."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you that you can watch the movies together, but that might be too forward. Instead, he grins. “Sounds like you have a research plan.”

"Apparently so." Under the table, the toe of your shoe finds the back of his leg completely by accident as you shift in your seat, and you grin guiltily. "I was about to apologize for that," you admit, knowing that it must have seemed like you were trying to play footsies or something under the table. "But honestly? I'm not sorry."

“Really?” His brow lifts and he shoots you a grin. “You like playing footsie?” He asks, his own foot reaching out and tapping yours gently.

"I think it's kind of cute, honestly." The innocent shrug is accompanied by a bright, smitten smile, and you nudge Marcus's foot back playfully.

“Best part of cuddling is sliding your foot along the leg of your cuddle buddy.” He tells you. “Or letting your hands wander.”

"Mmm...it's hands." And he has such huge hands...the possibilities are endless. "It's definitely hands."

“You’re a touch kind of girl?” He asks, intrigued by the idea and he wonders if your love language is physical touch. He’s noticed that you’ve reached out several times when reassuring him.

"Touch is a powerful thing." You reason, not making a single move to take your hand out of his. "It can be intense or gentle, reassuring or electrifying. It can be almost anything."

“Electrifyingly reassuring.” Marcus quips, squeezing your hand gently. He picks up the wine with his free hand and takes a sip.

"Like it's exciting but at the same time...feels kind of...right?" Which is exactly how you feel about him, and you're kind of going out on a limb admitting it but you don't think he's gearing up to reject you.

It does, he looks down at your joined hands and smiles. "I think so." He hands you the wine and hums. "Now, we have a couple of options for the rest of the night, if you're up for it." He grins. "We can continue to walk and talk. Or...." He shrugs. "I have my car back at the restaurant and I can drive you back to my place and we can have a cheese board and read to each other?"

He knows what he’s offering — not even in a salacious way — and that a night of reading books is like catnip to a librarian. You can’t help but get excited for it. Even the most boring night in the world would be improved by this, but tonight? With how it’s going? It sounds practically like foreplay. “What are we waiting for?” You ask, grinning, and take the last sip of wine from the glass. “We both have brand new books to read and my guess is that you definitetly have a couch big enough for two. I’d say that decision is easy.”

"Yeah?" He had expected you to say no. It's the first date after all. Beaming at you, he motions towards the wine. "Do you want to get a bottle of this to take with us?" He asks. "It would go good with any of the adult Lunchable things we can get."

“You’re going to keep teasing me about it, but I stand by that description.” You do nod though, having thoroughly enjoyed this particular glass of wine even more than what he had ordered at dinner.

He chuckles. "It's a good one." He admits. "I've never looked at it that way, but now I can see why you say that. I used to beg my mom to buy Lunchables."

“And now you love charcuterie. Which is the very same thing in a much neater package.” It’s silly, but you’ve always liked silly. It can really open a person up.

He squeezes your hand. "You finish that glass and I will see about getting us a bottle to take home." He tells you, letting go to stand up and quickly walk back to the counter. Feeling incredible about this date and almost hating that he had ever been dreading it.

Two sips and a purchased bottle later, the two of you are out the door of the little shop and heading back in the direction of the restaurant to retrieve Marcus’s car. The night is clear and crisp now and even though the city lights glow brighter than the stars you can sweat you feel the distinct light of the moon before anything else.

“How did you come to dinner?” He asks as he guides you towards his car. “If you feel more comfortable following me, I can give you the address.” He huffs. “Although I should probably do that anyway so you can send it to a girlfriend.”

“I have to admit, it’s comforting to have a guy even acknowledge that kind of thing.” Especially that he’s a federal agent, and doesn’t seem to feel entitled to your obedience or safety based purely on that fact. Instead he dutifully gives you his address after you tell him that you took public transportation to get here, and you send it off to your best friend.

“I understand.” He admits. “The number of people who disregard others safety or their own drives me insane sometimes. At the end of the day if someone gets offended for wanting to feel secure, they don’t have good intentions.” Marcus tells you. “Plus, my mother would kick my ass.”

“She definitely would.” You can agree to that, and thank him quietly when Marcus opens the passenger door for you to get into his car. The address he had given you was in Georgetown so you had a short but nice drive ahead.

“So what kind of music do you like?” He asks as he starts the car and looks behind him to back out of the spot. “Feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“I would never change Pearl Jam.” Is the very serious reply he gets from you, as the alternative rock station he has programmed on his satellite radio is currently playing ‘Even Flow’. “There was a band that played in my college town that did all 90s rock covers and they were the absolute best shows to go to.”

“That had to be awesome.” Marcus hums. “I was too busy playing to really see a lot of shows and I regret it. But I loved being in the band.”

“Well then I guess we’ll have to find some live music to go see.” There seems like plenty of common ground that you can pick up on together and that is a very good sign if nothing else. “If the sound of a 90s influenced jam band doesn’t make you want to run for the hills, The Southern Ocean is playing at The Runaway this weekend.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Marcus admits sheepishly. He’s been focused on work and not really out on the social scene the past few months. “Are they good?”

“I mean, I think so.” It’s not exactly surprising that the name is unknown to him and you glance over at him while he drives. “Their bassist is a friend, so I try to support whenever I can.”

“Then that’s definitely something I would want to check out.” Marcus nods. “It’s always good when you see friends play.”

“Would you want to come with me?” It’s only slightly presumptuous to plan out a second date when you’re still in the middle of the first one, but you like Marcus. You like him. He’s smart and handsome as hell and sweet, and even balances flirtation and respect on the perfect level. Honestly, you can’t imagine what kind of an idiot his exes were to let him get away.

“If you’re offering.” He smiles. “Who the hell ever resists an invitation from a pretty girl to go see a band?” He shakes his head. “I might be dumb, but I’m no fool.”

“You’re not dumb. Or a fool.” That’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t put up with from guys you date and you were glad to be able to rule it out very early with Marcus. You exchange a small smile at the next light when he pulls up to it and for the rest of the ride you sing along with the music and just enjoy yourselves.

When he pulls up to his house, Marcus is sort of panicking. Wondering if he had picked up this morning after he had dropped his clothes on the floor from his run. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was a slob.

“Home sweet home?” You guess, looking up at the picturesque blue house with its literal white picket fence. It even has a gate out front that someone lovingly painted flowers on in lieu of adding a name.

“Yeah.” He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It was a hell of a deal when I stumbled on it and I jumped.”

“It’s beautiful.” The lawn is dotted with wildflowers from what you can see in the dark, and suddenly the mental image of stargazing with him on a blanket is impossible to shake.

“Thank you. Luckily, I pay a wonderful company to keep the yard looking nice because I don’t have time to do it.” He admits with a small laugh.

“They do a much better job than the landlord at my duplex,” you offer him a smile before he slides out of the car and goes around to your door to let you out. The front door is a mere six steps away and Marcus’s house is even sweeter and more inviting once that door is open. It’s like somebody built the set of a Hallmark movie in real life just for this handsome FBI agent.

“So, this is home.” He knows that it’s decorated more than the standard bachelor pad and he’s okay with that. He’s not the type of man to just have a chair and a tv in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I can put your coat in the closet if you want?”

“Thanks.” It’s the most intimate contact you’ve had tonight besides holding hands, and you swear you can feel your skin tingle when he slides your jacket off your shoulders for you before hanging it beside his in the closet. The little shiver that runs through you is a private thrill and you know you probably look dreamy as hell as you follow him past the living room to the kitchen.

“How about you arrange the cheese board while I open and pour the wine?” He asks as he opens the refrigerator to pull out the sliced cheeses and meats he keeps there because he likes them.

It sounds wonderfully domestic, and you agree to it easily as he pulls out a small board and sets it down on the counter. Packages of Gruyère, havarti, and something marked Seriously Sharp cheddar all fill out the board and you do your valiant best at attempting to fold and rolls the slices of cured meats into petite little roses for the two of you to enjoy demolishing together. Some fresh grapes and cherry preserves join the tray, and Marcus produces a half of a baguette seemingly out of nowhere once the wine is poured. It’s all deceptively easy, the way you seem to work with and around each other, and by the time you make it back out to the living room you know you’re just completely gone for this man. His little smiles, deep laugh, and soft demeanor have you utterly relaxed and so, so smitten.

“Do you want to put on some music?” Marcus asks. “Maybe we can just relax. Lean back and read to each other?” He’s leaning into the idea that you would like this and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.

“What do you want to read first?” It sounds like possibly the most romantic idea in the world – just sitting and reading to each other in comfort with an indulgent (and savory) dessert. If the thought of curling up with him and finding out what it feels like to be close to him is anything, it is fairly close to perfection.

“Ladies choice.” He hums quietly, moving over to the record player he has sitting next to the collection of vinyl’s. It’s not to look snooty, he’s been obsessed with them since his mother played them while cleaning, claiming it sounded better. For classical music, it does. It brings back a sense of nostalgia, sets a mood.

“Rachmaninov?” The melody sounds familiar, like something out of a dream, when it starts up and the name seems to drudge itself out of the depths of your memory. “That’s got fantasy and romance written all over it.”

He hadn’t chosen the music with that in mind, but he smiles. “Too much?” He asks, even though he doesn’t feel like you will think that.

“Not at all.” In fact, just the opposite. It feels just right. “But it feels like The Duke & I or Princess Bride for sure.”

“Okay.” He smiles as he moves over to the couch and toes off his loafers to reveal the dress socks he had been wearing underneath. “You can get comfortable.” He promises, taking off his sports jacket and removing his tie.

Getting Comfortable on a date for you would usually lead to sexier things than snacks and reading — but then, is there anything sexier than reading in the first place? For a librarian that seems impossible. So instead, you follow suit and toe off your boots to curl up in the couch beside him.

It seems almost natural to have you curl into the crook of his body and Marcus opens his arms slightly. “How about I read to you to start?” He asks softly.

For most people this might be a recipe for falling asleep, but tonight the sound of his voice is vibrating through the thin fabric of your dress as you lean against him. The lingering scene of his cologne mixed with the wine and new book smell in a way more intoxicating than alcohol ever could be. “You’re dangerously comfortable,” you warn him, drawn right against him like a magnet.

"I don't mind being called that." He laughs quietly, trying not to jostle you too badly as you snuggle against him and he settles into opening the new book. Hearing the spine creak open slightly and he wonders if you are like him and prefer hardback over paperback books. At least for gifts.

“All we need is a fire in the fireplace and we’re just about as picturesque as I can imagine.” It’s dangerous to turn your head to smile at him from this angle because it brings you within about two inches of his perfectly tantalizing lips, but you remind yourself to behave. This is just the first date. No need to rush.

“Not quite cold enough yet.” He can’t help but look down at your lips, imagining kissing you in front of a cozy fire after a night in. Or maybe coming home to relax after a night out.

“Soon.” The moment is so soft, and you watch his eyes drift down to your lips the same way yours did to his a second ago with a warm buzzing in your chest. Whether you mean the fire or the kiss should be soon is entirely up to him to decide.

“Should I start to read?” He asks quietly. Feeling the moment start to grow into something warmer, sweeter.

“Yeah—I—um…” Any hesitation on your part is strictly attraction based, and you move your head a safe distance from his lips so as not to get distracted. “Please.”

Marcus turns his eyes to focus on the book and not on you. “The birth of Simon Authur Henry Clyvedon Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvedon was met with great celebration.” He keeps his voice low, intimate between the two of you as he was reading you a story before bed.

It’s simultaneously the most relaxing thing in the world and causing you to be completely on edge, the way Marcus’s rich voice seems to roll right through you as he begins to read. Every place that the two of you are touching seems to be on fire and you cannot decide if you want to jump him or take the world’s most luxurious ride on his narration alone.

He feels you stiffen in his arms and he wonders if you’ve change your mind. “Everything okay?” He asks, wanting to check in with you. He had anticipated you melting against him, but you seem on edge and if it’s something he’s doing, he wants to fix it.

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with how relaxed you feel right now, but you know you’ve been a little tensed against him. You had just been hoping that he wouldn’t notice. The fact that he looks at you incredulously says he definitely did. “I’m—” Flustering, you clear your throat as gently as you can manage and bite back a smile. “I’m a little distracted,” you admit, wondering how well complete honesty will go over with him.

“Cold?” Marcus asks. “There’s a blanket right over your other shoulder.” He hums. “Snuggle against me and curl under it. I meant it, make yourself comfortable.” He’s not sure if it’s the change from having your jacket and boots on that’s distracting you, but he doesn’t mind the idea of being under a blanket together.

Not entirely sure that snuggling more would distract you less,” you pull the blanket down anyway and do as he suggests. It brings the two of you even closer and you have to tamp down the coil tightening even further in your gut. Keep your shit together. You’re a grown ass woman! “There.” You smile, but looking up at him brings your eyes to his lips again and you don’t even realize as your tongue darts out to wet your own lips at the sight. “All better.”

His eyes drop down to your lips and he all but groans at the sight of them wet. “Good.” He croaks out, clearing his throat. “That’s good.” It’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, but he needs to so he doesn’t overstep.

“Mmhmm.” Nodding is like a reflex, and for all your determination you just can’t look away. “Very good…”

There’s a moment where Marcus wants to put the book down and give into the desire to kiss you. But that wouldn’t be what you had planned when you came over here and if something happens, he’s determined to let you lead. “So, uh, where was I?”

“I think—” But the thought isn’t there. You have no idea what the last thing he read was, despite how much you love the sound of his voice. Every sense has been taken over by the buzzing hum running through your body and the spark of his skin touching yours. “I don’t—” You could bluster. Or try to skim the page and guess. But your impulses are a hell of a lot stronger than your good sense tonight. “—I really want to kiss you—”

Marcus groans quietly and the book snaps shut with a definitive thump. “I really want you to kiss me too.” He admits. “You should go with your instincts.”

“Instincts are important,” you nod as wisely and seriously as possible even as you’re turning into his side. Those warm puffs of breath that have been ghosting over your skin make you shiver, and you just have an unshakable feeling that this is that start of something completely wonderful. “Oh yeah?” You hum, close enough to nudge his nose with yours.

“Yeah.” Marcus exhales roughly, feeling like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. Despite his complaint to his mom that it was too soon since Teresa, he feels that this is nearly perfect. You’re perfect and he’s painfully attracted to you.

It only takes the smallest movement to fit your lips against his, but the response that floods your body is monumental. It really should only have been a quick, light, gentle kind of first kiss — but he did say to go with your instincts. So instead your hand comes up to graze the line of his jaw when the blissful feeling of having him kiss you back makes you feel like you might vibrate out of place right there on the couch.

It’s innocent, really. The kiss doesn’t go much deeper than the exploration of each other in that first pressing of lips and yet he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. The only reason you pull back is to check in with him. It really is. Because that simple little first kiss might be the best first kiss you’ve ever had. His smile is a little dreamy, almost goofy as his eyes flutter opened after closing on their own. Looking at you as if you had hung the moon after that kiss.

"You look how I feel," you tell him, grin splitting your face clean across as you tuck tightly into his side. That pure joy radiating from his smile is the same feeling filling up your chest right now.

“Like you could tap dance on air?” He asks with an answering grin of his own. Wanting to pull you close and kiss you again, but resisting.

"Maybe." Neither of you were expecting the giggle you share, but it makes you both smile that much harder and you shift slightly against him. "And...like I didn't want to stop..."

“That too.” The book falls to the floor as he shifts slightly. His eyes are darker now, the lust and desire making his amber eyes turn to onyx. “You don’t have to.”

The momentum sweeps both of you up in a way you didn’t expect at all. As soon as he agrees to wanting even a little more you feel like the whole world tilts on its axis. You shift in his arms to surge toward him, lips pressing against his in earnest and barely managing to swallow a moan when he pulls you in tighter. It has you throwing caution to the wind and taking advantage of the open-mouthed kiss to taste him with your tongue — and letting a second moan out when he tastes just as sweet as you thought.

His arms wrap around you, not wanting you to shift too far away as he drowns in the kiss. Letting the feeling of your tongue caressing his completely overrule any semblance of thought beyond you and making sure you are aware of how much he is enjoying kissing you.

Trying to get as close to each other as you possibly can, you turn one more time in his arms and shift forward without ever breaking the kiss. His arms hold you steady, following wherever you’re going next, and in a moment of impulsivity and bravery you swing one leg over his lap to straddle Marcus completely on the couch.

Groaning, he absorbs your weight easily and his hands slide down your sides to squeeze your hips. He’s not upset you’re in his lap, quite the opposite. It makes his kiss just a little more frantic, trying to devour you a bit more.

Marcus has big hands. You know that already. But feeling them on you is totally different. His grip is firm but gentle, sweeping up and down your sides, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you chose a dress and leggings and that those things provide no barrier between his body and yours. You can feel damn near everything underneath you and that is a blessing as well making you hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

He pants against your lips and feels like he’s underwater. Knowing that he is starting to harden underneath you at the warmth of your body, your core pressed against him.

The only thing that could possibly reel you back in at this point is him — the very same thing that is driving you crazy. But before you start grinding against him or even so much unconsciously moving your hips, you need to make sure he’s okay with it. You’re both panting heavily when you press your forehead against his, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly for balance. “I can stop…” you promise him, knowing that reeling yourself in now will be easier than later. “If you don’t want—more—”

“No.” The word is more whimper and plea than command and he wouldn’t do that anyway. “I— I’m good. I want—” He shakes his head and leans in to press his lips to yours again.

He wants just like you do, if the growing bulge beneath you is any indication, and you are not the slightest bit upset about that in anyway. It isn't what you came here for – or why you went on this date in the first place – but fuck if it isn't feeling like the perfect way to cap off the night.

The subtle circling of your hips has his fingers digging into your thighs as the most delicious groan rips out of his throat. Unsure if he wants you to stop or to just grind on him until you’re panting his name, he slides his tongue down your jaw and to your neck to follow it up with tiny kisses.

"Fuck— Marcus." The iron grip you had on his shoulders has slacked only so you can run your hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer under your fingertips just as fast as your own as he dusts kisses along your neck and raises goosebumps in his wake.

“So sexy.” He murmurs into your skin. Scraping his teeth over your pulse and sucking lightly. Enjoying the tremor that runs through you and the way you press down against his cock as you moan. He’s hard and starting to ache now, twitching every time you move.

“Unbelievably hot.” The first time you deliberately tilt your hips and rock your core over him, you both moan and you melt against him with your fingers fumbling for his buttons. “C—can I?” You manage, even though you feel like your voice is shaking. “Want to touch you, baby. Please?”

Exhaling on a shudder, Marcus gulps in air greedily. "Whatever you want." He croaks out. "I— fuck," His eyes close and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his Adam's apple. "I want you, but this stops wherever you want it to." He's not the type of man to push beyond your comfort, but if you said you wanted him inside you, he'd already be asking about protection. Not feeling like this is some sort of rebound, it feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

“I don’t want it to stop,” you admit, pausing with your fingers already in the first button of his shirt to find his eyes. This is not your usual first date M.O. but there is something here. Something very real and new between you that has wrapped itself around both of you together.

“We don’t have to stop.” Marcus promises you breathlessly, biting back a groan of pleasure when your hand splays across his chest, touching his hot skin.

"Thank god." Your own moan is a soft and breathy thing as you lean back to watch the broad expanse of his chest come into view with every button you manage to wrench open.

He manages to chuckle, even though he wants to just pull you closer and rip your clothes open to touch you, but he just pulls you close.

It's so damn easy to sink into him. For both of you to let your hands wander and your kisses migrate across each other's skin. He's stronger even than he looks at first glance and that is very strong – to the point where you really wonder if he might be able to just lift you up and carry you off. And that is just about the sexiest thing you can think of.

Keeping his hands on top of your clothes is going to be a real fucking challenge. Especially now that you have stripped him of his dress shirt and his undershirt. Squeezing and caressing every inch of skin you are baring, even the back of your tender neck while he scatters kisses along your lips.

The way he grabs and bunches your dress in his hands but doesn't reach further makes you groan, wondering if he's hesitant or if he's just waiting for permission. It really only takes a few seconds to realize there is something hesitant about the way he is kissing you or palming your hips and breasts over your dress, so you take one of his hands and guide it under the hem of your dress in invitation.

Marcus moans when you guide his hand under your dress, giving him permission to touch you and it becomes his mission to touch every inch of your body. Both hands slide up and down your thighs in sweeping passes, over your panties and to your stomach.

"Fuck." His hands are burning hot, making you shiver counterintuitively and lean into every touch. At this rate you may leave a damp patch from grinding down on him, but you don't even care. The friction is too good to ease up on. The only way you're moving off is so Marcus can get his pants off.

"That's right, baby." He agrees, unable to stop twitching every time you grind against the hard bulge in his slacks. "Fuck is right." His thumb sweeps under your breast right before he slides up to cover it with his hand, right over the bra and squeeze possessively. "You want to take off your dress for me, sweetheart?"

It's not even worth wasting breath on a reply, you just tear your hands away from his chest to pull your dress up over your head. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor and instantly forgotten about as you pant for your breath back and watch Marcus's eyes drink you in.

He didn't know that he could look so many places at once. Your tits, mouthwatering and begging for his attention. Down to your pretty panties that he wants to rip off and bury his tongue inside you to hear you squeal his name. Back up to your face and he nearly growls as he rushes in to kiss you again.

The momentum nearly knocks you backward but Marcus's arms are there to hold you steady. If he has his way you'll be staying skin-to-skin for a whole lot longer tonight and you have absolutely no problem with that. Every time his cock twitches under you, you can't help but moan, and soon it's going to be just a litany of that sound over and over.

Deft, sure hands reach back to undo your bra, making the first move to strip clothing off of you. Pulling the straps down your arms and immediately reaching up to cup your breasts and fill his hands with them. As simple as it might be to get a simple piece of clothing off of you, your high-pitched whine says everything about how eager you are to be rid of every stitch. "You have the best hands," you moan when he pinches your nipples and rolls the tight buds between his fingers for the first time.

"You have the best tits." Marcus hums, almost chuckling as he watches your head drop down to your chest and then roll back. "Fuck, that's it," he groans when you circle your hips on his cock again.

"S—swear this isn't what I was expecting—" You manage to breathe out, trying to assure him that you never expected sex tonight. "But fuck, baby."

"Me either." He agrees, kissing your jaw and then down your chest. His hot mouth moving towards your breast until he's pulling your nipple into his mouth.

“Mar—Marcus.” The heat of his mouth makes you keen even as your head drops back and the fingers of one hand tangle in his short hair. At this point every time you grind your hips down it’s like you’re trying to reach his cock inside his pants, and you know he’s as hard as you are wet.

He huffs and blows his breath against your nipple as he lets go of it, smirking up at you before sucking it back into his mouth. Knowing that tonight is nowhere near what he had imagined it being like and yet he can't be mad at it. He's eager to feel more of you.

“Feels so damn good.” The contrast of hot and cool on your skin makes your eyelids flutter and you rock in his lap.

He moans in agreement, his tongue flicking over the stiff peak and he loves how it puffs up even more in his mouth. Pulling off only to attack your other breast with equal enthusiasm.

Every flick of his tongue sends another shiver down your spine and as much as you just want to ride it out and see if you can cum only from having your tits sucked on, you want him more. One hand stays threaded in his hair but the other reaches down between you, finding the thick bulge of his cock in his pants and squeezing experimentally to see what makes him moan.

Marcus’s breath is ragged, shuddered against your skin and he pulls away because he might bite down too hard if you do that too well. “Fuck, baby.” He groans when you squeeze him again.

"I—" You breathe, panting when he twitches in your hand and you can feel how thick he is. "I have a condom in my wallet." It had been just a nothing idea, to throw one in while you were getting ready. More of a joke to yourself about how you always seem to be so overprepared. But now? Thank god you did.

"Yeah?" He kisses up your neck again and his tongue slides against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. "I have one too." He admits. He's always carried one, but not because he expected sex, but because it was surprisingly handy to have at times. "Do you want to use yours or mine?"

"Yours first, mine second." It might sound a little overconfident, but something in you tells you for certain that this isn't just a one-time thing. Besides that, Marcus's hazy, lust-filled grin at your comment is worthwhile.

"Good girl." He groans out, twitching against your core at the thought of multiple rounds after you've both caught your breath and recovered.

That makes you moan reflexively, and you don't even pretend to demure over the reaction. It's honest and it's real. Who doesn't want to be praised during sex?

"Oh you like that." He chuckles and leans in to kiss your lips again softly. "I'll keep that in mind." He will, he will take note of every damn think you like.

"Not even going to pretend I don't." You lean forward to nip at his neck in turn before stepping back from him with a groan. With two feet on the rug, you already hate the distance between you. But you'll take care of that as soon as you strip his pants away.

Marcus pouts slightly but he quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants so he can lift his hips up so you can pull his pants down. Black boxer-briefs under black trousers is very adult of him, and you're far too focused on the thick length trapped under that last layer of fabric to tease him about boring underwear. Instead you toss him his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and slip off your tights while he fishes for the condom packet.

Catching his wallet, Marcus opens it and pulls the condom out and tosses it on the coffee table before he bites his lip. Looking at you before he lifts his hips again and pushes down his boxer briefs.

Broad shoulders and a thin waist give way to long legs, but your attention is focused on his dark eyes until you let your gaze drop to his lap. The head of his cock is bordering purple, dripping precum, and it gives a distinct twitch against his belly when he watches you watch him. The perfect moment of quiet before the storm that is about to take over, you crack a grin at Marcus and take a step forward. That cock is going to feel so fucking good inside you.

"I take it you approve?" He asks, smirking himself as he holds out his hand to you. "Now, I want you to take off your panties for me, sweetheart."

“Oh, these things?” With your thumbs hooked into either side of your panties, you grin a little wider before slipping them straight down your legs to pool at your feet. “Gone.”

"Fuck." He groans, cock jerking again at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. "You're so beautiful. I'm lucky to be able to touch you."

You hum, shaking your head and making a show of walking the three steps you need to need to be ready to crawl back into his lap. “I could say the same thing.”

He chuckles and rips open the condom to roll down his length. Biting his lip while he studiously applies the prophylactic, he looks back up at you with his hand wrapped around his covered cock. "Then touch me again and make me believe it." He teases.

Never having known a single man who didn’t like having his cock ridden, you fit one knee on the outside of each of his hips and sit yourself down directly over his core, replacing his hand with yours and wishing you had had the opportunity to suck his cock just a little before he applied the condom. Next time, you tell yourself, rocking over the tip of his length and watching his Adam’s Apple bob dramatically until you start to slide that length inside you an inch at a time.

His hands find your hips again. Not to rush you, but to hold you as you slowly start to engulf his cock. Moaning out your name when you get the first two inches inside your hot body and your walls squeeze him tight. "That— fuck, baby, you feel so good." He praises breathlessly. "How— is it good?" He can barely think straight, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable.

“Perfect.” Barely holding onto your last shred of control, you are determined to make sure you both latch on to the bliss of this moment before anything else. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders but the slight pain just adds to how good the way you sink down onto him feels. Groaning again as you keep taking him, wrapping him up in the heat of your body. "Good."

“Goddamn.” When he’s fully seated inside you, you pause long enough for both of you to catch your breath. “Tell me when I can move, baby.”

"Anytime you want to move." He moans, wanting you to move now, but he's not the one who is on top. "You set the pace, baby."

That in itself is enough encouragement, and you raise up on your knees right away to the musical harmony of a moan ripping out of each of you. “Fuck you feel so good,” you moan, barely keeping your eyes open as you set an even but energetic pace. It feels that good, but you want to be able to watch him.

Breathing out shakily, Marcus can't even speak. Too overcome by the pure pleasure that comes when you start to move. Rolling your hips and clenching down around him, you fit like you are perfectly molded around him. Eyes fluttering when you start to lift off his length, but then take him even deeper when you sink back down.

The sounds of sex are distinct – sloppy and wet and loud – as the two of you find a rhythm together. If you believed in Fate you’d say he felt like he was made for you, but as it is you really can barely form any thoughts at all. He fills you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever felt before and every perfect man goes straight to your clit as you ride him.

His fingers are still grazing your hip as his thumb presses against that little button that drives women crazy. Humming when he starts to work quick, small circles on top of it as you move. Wanting to match the rhythm for your pleasure. Your hands are everywhere, pulling in his hair and bracing on his shoulders, grazing down his chest and even reaching behind you to lean backward and get a slightly different angle and groaning loudly when it strikes you just right.

Letting you lead doesn’t mean that Marcus does nothing. His hips rock up every other thrust to make sure that you are impaled on his cock. Toes curling every time, he groans out your name again and again.

Curses and praises fall from your lips, punctuating the litany of moans with colorful encouragement and pleas. Every time he thrusts upward you feel like you’re going to have all of your insides rearranged, and it’s so fucking good you never want it to stop.

“Fuck. Baby.” Marcus leans forward and presses his forehead to your clavicle. “You’re taking me so well. Love it.” His mouth sometimes gets filthy when he’s lost in a moment and it’s no different today. “Pretty little pussy clamped down over my dick.”

Fucking hell. He even talks dirty. You keen in response, a moan so animated and turned the fuck on that you’re picking up the pace and pawing at your own tits in Marcus’s face. It’s beautiful to watch your tits bounce and your hands pluck at them, but he’s a hands on kind of guy and he lets go of your waist so he can lavish attention on them.

It’s an automatic switch. When his hands move to knead your tits and pluck at your nipples, you replace one of your own on his shoulder and let the other drift to your clit to run the same circles that he was just a second ago. You’re hurtling desperately close to cumming and you can’t wait to hear what dirty little praises he’s going to come out with when you clamp down on his cock even harder.

Marcus moans and groans with his nipple in your mouth. His eyes watching your fingers dance over your clit and he’s memorizing the fact that you enjoyed the way he had been touching you. His hips rocking up fast to punch up into you. Feeling you getting closer to your peak with ever gasped squeal you give him.

“So—fuck— so fucking close,” you manage between pants and moans as your body starts to lock down all at once and that coil in the base of your spine tightens beautifully like you were warning it and not just him. “Oh fuck, I’m cum—”

The second he feels you tense up, Marcus pops off your tit and his arms wind around you like steel bands. Holding you in place so he can take over. Thrusting up into you while you start to cum. “That’s it.” He hisses. “Cum for me. Soak me baby. Show me how good my cock feels.” He groans, the hard, sharp thrusts knocking his breath out but he fucks you through it, still babbling. “Like a vice, like a fucking vice. Come on baby, give me all of it.”

The filthy babbling almost breaks you, with the way that it shakes through you and makes you gasp at breaths even with how much you’re panting. Sparks flash white behind your eyes as Marcus’s hips start to stutter, and you’re vaguely aware of a stream of your own encouragements — or maybe just begging him to cum so you can see how gorgeously unwound he looks when he hits his peak. You can’t be sure which it is, or if it’s both, but either way his arms tighten around you that much more and he groans in your ear like sin incarnate.

"Fuck you're so good." Marcus breathes. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill your little pussy up." That's not going to happen because of the condom, but logistics don't exactly matter right this second. All that matters is that he's going to be buried inside you as he cums. "Fuck baby, fuck." He chokes out, giving one more thrust and grinding up into you as he whines your name into your ear. Spilling into the condom in hot waves of pleasure.

“Holy shit.” You’re the first to break into giggles, when you finally have your breath back. His arms were so tight around you at the end that you might feel a little bruised tomorrow but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all. That’s the best ride you’ve had in ages and it was only the first time.

Humming, Marcus leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck. Panting to catch his breath. "Holy shit is right." He gives his own little giggle because he's feeling so loose and good.

“Let me know when I’m getting too heavy.” With your forehead pressed to his shoulder and the feeling very slowly returning to your extremities, you’re still not sure about moving immediately. “My legs aren’t working yet. You turned them into jelly.”

"You can stay right here as long as you want." He promises with a grin, his spent cock twitching inside you. He will have to hold to condom when he pulls out, but it's worth it. "Want me to read to you now while you recover?"

The awe and adoration in your expression when you pull back from him is unmistakable. He’s going to read to you post-coitus?! “You’re actually perfect,” you sputter out in disbelief, though you’re absolutely not saying no.

He chuckles and sends you a warm smile. "It's the least I can do," he teases, "since you did all the work." His hands slowly caress your spine and he’s enjoying the way you feel against him.

“And I’ll gladly do all the work again for round two if that’s the response I get.” Not even teasing, you nudge your nose against his and steal a kiss, savoring the taste of perspiration mixed with Marcus’s kiss.

He hums against your lips and slides his hand up to hold you in place to deepen the kiss. "Thank you." He murmurs when he pulls away. "For this. For making it easy to enjoy the best damn date I've had in a long time."

“No need to thank me.” There is so much softness in it that you melt a little bit more, nuzzling into him right there in his lap. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to make sure our second date beats it.”

It makes him laugh, a giddy, carefree sound and he sigh happily. "We should just keep it going then." He decides. "That way we don't have to think of ideas to top this."

You could float away on the sound of his laugh, just reveling in this joyful energy. All the same, you pull back again and find his eyes carefully. “You asking me to stay the night, handsome?”

"What kind of date would I be if I sent you home when your legs are Jello?" He asks playfully, leaning in and nudging your nose with his. "Especially since it's my fault."

“Fault. Generous gift. Same thing.” You both grin, indulging in more kisses until you’re sighing into him all over again. “In that case, I think we should go upstairs,” you murmur. “Read in bed until we either want to go again or fall asleep.”

"Do you want some water?" He asks softly, knowing you might be thirsty after all that work. "I can get you some before we go up?"

“Perfect gentleman.” You hum softly, knowing you need to climb out of his lap but wanting one more kiss first. “Water would be amazing.”

He gives you another lingering kiss, smiling against your lips when you start to pout as you lift off of him. He slides his hand between you to hold the base of his cock, keeping the condom from moving. "Good. My room is the last door on the left." He tells you. "I'll be up in just a second, as soon as I get rid of the condom and get some water."

"Okay." Even though you pause to gather up your stuff, you don't bother getting dressed. Sauntering upstairs naked has an air of comfort and unexpected sexiness to it that you can't deny, but you do stop off in the bathroom to do the extremely unsexy task of cleaning up and having a quick pee. By the time you get out, you barely have a second to slip under the covers before Marcus appears in the doorway.

"Bottle of water, like the lady ordered." Marcus put away the cheeseboard and wine, gathering up his own clothes before coming upstairs. He wants to make sure you are comfortable. Grinning, he walks over in his boxers to hand you the water. "Need anything else, sweetheart?"

"A little company, that's all." Did he manage to get more attractive in the less than five minutes you were apart? That's wholly unfair.

"Company I can definitely provide." He smirks slightly as he walks around the bed to climb in beside you. "Comfortable? Need another pillow?"

"Not gonna lie." As he slides in next to you, you move toward him like a magnet. "I was kind of hoping for a human pillow."

"That's my favorite type of pillow to be." His arms open up to let you settle against him. "Especially when I'm going to read to you."

"Absolutely perfect," you murmur happily, laying your head down on his chest as he picks up the book. Tonight really was, without a doubt, the best date you've ever had. You're going to have to do a hell of a job hosting the next book club meeting as a thank you.

He picks up reading again, basically just starting over. Keeping his voice low and the only light is from the lamp on his bedside table. Letting the atmosphere stay intimate. It might be the first date, but it was going to hopefully the last first date he has.

______

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

My Masterlist!

[lucy90712]

Ruben Dias fluff!! Any thing you want, I trust you

Having kids is the most stressful and rewarding thing I've ever done but I wouldn't have it any other way. The biggest downside is that Ruben doesn't get to be around as much as he's like to as he's always got training or matches but when he's around he always spends every second helping me or playing with our oldest son Milo even if he's tired he treasures every second he gets to spend at home with us. 

Since I gave birth to our daughter Ruben has barely been home he got a couple of days off training and then it's been all go since. There has been matches every weekend and then champions league during the week so he's hardly been home which makes life difficult. Caring for a newborn and entertaining a two year old on little to no sleep is exhausting but Ruben helps where he can and he even gets his brother to come over when he's not around which is a great help. 

This weekend Ruben finally has a few days off after such a packed schedule Pep gave all the players a couple days off training to rest and recuperate ready for the next run of games. Rest isn't a thing in our household right now but I don't think Ruben minds he just wants to be home and actually spend time with the kids. I know he feels awful that he hasn't got to bond with our daughter Alice as much as he'd want to as he's not here during the day when she's awake and looking around but I always send him pictures and videos so he feels like he's involved too. 

Just like every morning I expected to be woken up at the crack of dawn by a toddler screaming in the baby monitor and a newborn crying right next to my head. When I woke up and saw that it was nearly 9am I freaked out and then when I saw that the baby wasn't in her bassinet I nearly had a panic attack. That's when my sensible brain took over my mum brain and I realised that Ruben also wasn't in bed next to be so he must have Alice and that made me feel so much better. After I calmed down I got out of bed and headed downstairs where I could already hear the chaos which is weirdly nice to hear. When I finally made it downstairs I saw Ruben in the kitchen holding Alice while trying to make pancakes and with Milo at his feet. I took Alice from him quickly so he could focus on breakfast but before I knew it I was also holding Milo as he's definitely a mama's boy and he doesn't like to leave my side when I'm around. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in you didn't have to do that I know you're tired too" I said 

"You don't have to thank me I know you don't get much sleep and you need it to deal with those two I get to sleep when I’m away for matches so it's only fair that you get to have a lay in" he said 

"Well I still appreciate it I feel like a new woman now" I laughed 

"Good and I've got breakfast all ready for you" Ruben said while handing me a plate of pancakes 

We ate breakfast as a family or our version of eating as a family which is taking a bite of our own food every few minutes after having to cut bits up for Milo and sometimes having to feed it to him when he refuses to eat. Then more often than not Alice seems to sense when I'm eating and all of a sudden wants feeding so I have to eat with just one hand. Ruben had managed to get Milo to eat all of his pancakes while I still had a mostly full plate as I was feeding Alice so Ruben switched his attention to me and cut my pancakes and fed them to me like the perfect husband he is. 

To spend some quality time together Ruben suggested we go to the park and seeing as I've got him to help me I had no reason to disagree. He took care of getting Milo ready while I got Alice ready and we made it out the house as a family of four for the first time which sounds crazy as Alice is three weeks old now but Ruben's been around so little we haven't had the chance to go anywhere all together yet. Leaving the house is never easy but eventually we got out the house with me having Alice in the carrier and pushing the stroller while Milo walked as he refused to get in the stroller. 

The walk to the park isn't a long one so we got there pretty quickly and when we did Milo took off and made a beeline straight for the slide as he loves going down the slide. Ruben followed close behind while I found somewhere to sit with Alice as she was due a feed before she naps again. Watching Ruben play with Milo made me a little emotional hearing Milo laughing as Ruben chased him around the park is exactly how I pictured parenthood there is no better sound than hearing your child laughing it always fills my heart with joy. Milo can be difficult at times which I think comes down to missing his dad but I couldn't care less about that when I get to see the two of them happy and playing together. 

"Mama come play" Milo said as he ran over to me 

"I would love to play with you buddy but mama's still recovering I can push you on the swing if you'd like though" I said 

"Yeah let's go mama" he said running off again 

I gave Alice to Ruben so I could push Milo on the swing which he thoroughly enjoyed he wanted to go higher and higher until I physically couldn't push him any higher. As he was swinging Ruben started to pull faces at him from across the park which only made him laugh more. This is exactly why I think Ruben is the best dad he has always been so great since the moment Milo was born our kids just love to be around him as he always makes them happy. It wasn't long before Milo wanted to get out of the swing so I got him out and he dragged me off to the rest of the play equipment which I wasn't going to go on as I'm only just three weeks post partum but I just can't say no to him. We climbed up the climbing wall and ran around the little castle type thing it brings you to before going down the slide which was more than enough for me. 

We stayed at the park for a while longer until Milo had run out of energy and climbed into the stroller himself. Ruben took the stroller which now also had Alice in too and held my hand as we walked back home. Both kids fell asleep in the stroller so Ruben and I kept walking even when we went past the house so they'd known stay asleep and we could have some peace. We decided to walk into town and got some fresh bread and other things to make lunch when we got back home. As soon as the stroller stopped Milo woke up and wanted to get out so Ruben unbuckled him and off he went to play with his toys. 

Our afternoon started out much the same as our morning with us trying to get Milo to sit still long enough to eat lunch and then we went straight back to playing. As a family we all played with Milo's trucks and cars in the little world he's created where they all have a role. The things kids come up with is just fascinating their little minds are so creative. Before Milo was born Ruben and I spent countless evenings wondering what kind of personality he would develop but I would've never predicted that he'd be such a character he's always making me laugh with the things he comes out with but he's also such a kind little boy he always thinks about me and his sister. 

After a long day of running around and playing the kids were definitely tired and of course right after dinner Milo cuddled up to my side and fell asleep while Alice slept on my chest and Ruben had his arm around my waist as I leant against his shoulder. We took a few moments to just relax and enjoy the calm as that doesn't happen often. Eventually Ruben picked up Milo and took him to bed and I was going to put Alice in her bassinet and grab the baby monitor but he told me to stay put and he'd do it and I wasn't going to argue. He did exactly what he promised and then he came back to bring me upstairs as he'd started to run me a bath. 

I enjoyed my bath very much it was so relaxing I could feel the tension in my muscles that had built up over the last few weeks just disappear in the warm water. When I got out Ruben had pyjamas ready for me on the bed which I changed into and joined him in bed. He pulled me into his arms and started to press kisses all over my face which I've missed so much as I either sleep alone while Ruben is away or we don't get a moments peace as Alice has always been fussy at night. Tonight everything was quiet and it was amazing Ruben and I could enjoy some quality time together which we haven't had in a couple months. 

"I don't know how you deal with this all day everyday I'm exhausted" Ruben said 

"You get used to it some days they are calmer than others I think Milo was just excited you were around" I said 

"I'm sorry I haven't been here more I know the kids miss me but I can tell you miss me too even if you want say it" he said 

"It's ok I know why you aren't around it's not like you're out with friends while I'm here with two kids and yeah I miss having you here but that's selfish so I don't mention it" I admitted 

"Its not selfish you're allowed to feel like that and wish things were different I understand that things are hard and you'd like me to be around to help more that's not selfish I promise" he said 

"Everything is worth it though when we get moments like today and when Milo gets to watch you play on tv the hard moments don't matter anymore" I said

"I can't wait for Alice to come to her first game even if she doesn't remember I still remember when you first brought Milo along that was up there with one of the best days of my life" Ruben said 

"Maybe once we've both had our six week check up I'll bring her along to a game but we'll need to get her some little ear defenders" I said

"Of course but remember if you aren't ready you don't have to stick to that I'd much rather wait until you'll actually have a good time as it's supposed to be a good memory for all of us" he said 

We talked for a bit longer before Ruben turned a movie on and I knocked out within a few minutes as I didn't realise how tired I was but I fell asleep feeling completely happy and fulfilled.

[delulu-hours]

My Scholar

Paring: Derek Morgan x Latina!reader

Summary: Derek's girl was his scholar. She was the perfect smart girl who always seemed to doubt her ability. So when she called, saying she had a possible theory to help with their case, he never once doubted her.

A/n: I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine. It takes place in season one episode 15.

"Morgan," Derek answered the ringing of his phone; his eyes didn't look away from the image of the dead woman on the screen staring back at him. He hadn't even looked to see who was calling him.

"Hey, cariño." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he closed the laptop, getting the dead woman out of his mind. He glanced around and noticed the rest of his team was busy, so he got up and walked to get himself some coffee.

"Hey there, mama." Morgan could already picture the sweet smile that would pull at her lips and the slight rosy color that would adorn her cheeks. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy," The voice on the other end hummed. "I just missed you." He hummed, knowing that they hadn't been able to spend much time with each other. Working at the BAU, Morgan was always traveling and working cases, which involved being away for long periods. It also didn't help that his girlfriend was still finishing her schooling.

"How are classes going?" He watched as the mug slowly filled with the black coffee. A groan on the other end caused him to chuckle.

"I'm calling for that reason." He raised an eyebrow before taking the mug that was filled with coffee. "I know you're busy working on the Keystone killer, but I think there's something that I might be able to help you with." He could hear some flipping of papers and a few Spanish curse words.

"Y/n," Derek stopped what he was doing and shifted his phone back in his hands. "What are you talking about, beautiful?" He knew his girl was on her way to working for a Ph.D. in Criminology and Criminal Justice. A smart pretty woman he knew so he wasn't going to stop her.

"His MO has changed since he started up killing," He wasn't surprised that she was keeping up with the case of the Keystone Killer. "I know. Before you say anything, I got some more information from the police as I managed to get my professor to help get more updated information for my essay." He hummed to let her know he was listening as she continued. "Well, what if he changed his MO because he had to? The change came from the need to adapt."

"Hold up," Morgan stopped her from rambling. "You're onto something, Scholar. Just hold that pretty little thought of yours. The team might need to hear this."

"Wait, qué? (what)" She stumbled over her words. "No, Derek, you tell them. Besides, it's just a thought; I don't even know how accurate this thought is."

"You need to give yourself more credit than that," He lingered behind the door that played a barrier between his team and him. "You are a set of fresh eyes. Trust me when I say that your idea would make sense, but I need you to be the one to explain this." It was quiet, and he felt Hotch looking at him as he opened the door but didn't enter.

"Fine." He smirked as he walked in. All eyes were now on him.

"I think I got us something that would help." Derek moved the phone from his ear before placing the call on speaker. "Do your magic, beautiful." He sat in his seat as he placed the phone on the table. He ignored the confusion from everyone as his girl took a deep breath.

"Okay, uhm, where do I start?" The voice was soft, and the rest of the team looked confused. They half expected to hear Garcia's voice by Morgan's choice of words. They only knew one person he used those nicknames for. "This might seem un poco raro (a little weird), but I've been studying the case of the Keystone Killer, and with the recent evidence gathered, it's evident that the unsub had changed his MO. Before it was a rope, which gave him the pleasure to be involved and feel his power over his victims. It also explains why he strangled his victims. "

"Why?" Gideon spoke up, trying to find where this unknown person was trying to get at. "Why change his MO if he isn't getting anything out of it."

"That was exactly what I thought when he used the flex cuffs and suffocation. That also includes taking in why he had began to knock some of his recent victims out as well, which he hadn't done before." Some typing could be heard before a small ping took over Morgan's phone. "I asked myself why he knocked out the victims when he didn't have an issue over it before, and it made me realize that maybe he had no choice. Before, he could overpower his victims, but what if now he couldn't? I mean, he could've sustained some injury that left him weak or something. A stroke. Maybe even a heart disease."

"That would explain the sudden need to use the flex cuffs and why he began suffocating his victims." Reid nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake." Ellie sounded impressed as they took in this new information.

"Exactamente! (exactly)" They heard a slight finger snap on the other end of the phone. Morgan couldn't help but shake his head as he took in his girl's excitement. "I mean, think about it; why else would he change what made him get off? The feeling of having the lives of his victims slowly leave their bodies as he strangled them. Seeing the fear in their eyes until they died and the power it gave him." If they could see the girl now, they would see the mess she was surrounded by. The papers on the bed, open books, and photos on the ground. She had been following this case since his latest victim, and it didn't help that she had written about the Keystone Killer in one of her previous assignments. "If he did sustain some sort of injury, there has to be some record of it in the hospital."

"So what are we talking about," Derek asked. "This must have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia."

"That's a lot of hospital records." Reid shook his head

"That is where I got stuck." She let out a small huff.

"Call our girl Friday." Gideon pointed at Derek, who gave him a short nod. Derek wasted no time picking up his phone and leaving the room. He took her off of speaker and placed the phone to his ear.

"You're a genius, baby." He placed a kiss on the phone, which earned him a laugh that he loved.

"I'm glad I could be of some help, cariño."

"I'll call you later when your theory leads us to the scumbag."

"Well, I hope you catch him and hurry back home. I miss my handsome man." He smiled as he heard the slight pout in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n messed with the sweater hem I was waiting for as she waited for Morgan. He texted her, saying he wanted her to meet with him later tonight at his job. She leaned on her car as she bit my lip, nervous to be here. "There she is." She perked up at his voice and turned around. A smile tugged at her lips as she rushed over to him, throwing herself onto him and pulling him into a hug. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she peppered him with kisses as he chuckled. A slight stumble backward, but he had a hand on her thigh, close to her ass.

"I missed you, mi amor. (my love)" She placed a kiss on his lips. A hum vibrated through her as he kissed her back. His touch was soft as he took her in. The way she felt in his arms.

"You don't say." He pulled back a bit and smirked at her. She saw the amusement dancing in those beautiful eyes as he placed his forehead on hers. She gave him a big smile as she closed her eyes, soaking in his touch and his body's warmth. She had missed him so much. Morgan couldn't say much himself as he, too, missed his girl. He missed her smile. The soft touches he enjoyed after the long days at the office. Or the way she bit her lip as she was focused on her schoolwork. "I missed you too, Angel."

"Ready to go?" She asked as she unwrapped her legs from him. As much as Morgan didn't want to let her go, he had called her for a reason.

"Actually, some people would like to meet you." He took her hand in his and pulled her with him.

"A mí? (me)" He smirked at the confused look on her face as she followed behind him.

"Yes, you." Since solving the case, his team had been bugging him about the unknown girl who helped with the case. She frowned a bit and looked at the building they were walking to. "Don't think too hard with the pretty head of yours." He nudged her with his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes at him. It was a mutual decision to keep their relationship private, so Morgan wasn't surprised that his team was confused and wanted to know who she was. He also had no intentions of hiding their relationship. They never asked him about it, and he never bothered to bring it up.

"Oh, tu mamá me llamó. (your mom called me)" She slightly swung their arms back and forth as they kept walking.

"My mom?" Dating a little over a year allowed Morgan to understand enough Spanish to connect the dots. Y/n speaks a lot when they're together; however, it is usually mixed with English.

"Yeah, She wanted to know if we were still going down Jamacia later this year. I told her we planned to go, but it wasn't certain yet."

"Was that it?" She nodded, and Derek hummed.

~~~~~~~~~

His team watched Morgan talk to the girl who stood close to him. Their hands interlaced as Derek's smile grew from whatever she said. "Derek is down bad." JJ looked amused as she took in this new side of her teammate.

"Did someone tell Garica?" Ellie asked softly as she glanced around, not finding the blonde anywhere. "I'm sure she'd love to meet the mystery woman." Reid shook his head before he could say anything. Morgan and the mystery women neared them.

"Guys, I would like to introduce you to my beautiful, sweet, intelligent girl, Y/n." The woman beside Morgan gave them a bashful smile as a slight blush dusted her cheeks, embarrassed by the compliment her boyfriend showered her with.

"It's nice to meet you." JJ was the first to hold his hand out to her. "Heard you were of great help with the case." Y/n took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Encantada, (nice to meet you)" She nodded at them as she took in the rest of Derek's team. She could tell who they all were just by how Morgan described them. "I didn't do much, but I was glad my theory helped JJ." JJ looked slightly surprised. She knew who she was. Y/n took in the man who sat on his chair; his was longer than the rest of the men in the team and tucked behind his ear. As expected, he wore a white button-up shirt with a black tie and a burgundy sweater vest. She knew right away that man was Spencer Reid.

"You mentioned that you had been working on the Keystone Killer case," Reid shifted in his seat. "Why is that?"

"It was for my class." She smiled at Reid. "I've written an essay about him before, so when he started killing again, I decided to follow along and use it for another assignment." She could tell that Reid was intrigued with what she was saying. "If you like Spencer, I can have Morgan give it to you when I finish it."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his seat. "I'd love to see what you have down. I read the small portion you sent Morgan and thought it was interesting."

"Claro que sí. (of course)" She nodded, delighted to share her work with him. She knew she would get along well if Reid were anything Derek described him as. Morgan watched, pleased to see his girl getting along with his team.

"Look at this," Derek threw an arm around her. "My nerd and pretty boy geeking out." A small groan left his lips as Y/n elbowed him in the stomach. His team was amused as she rolled her eyes at him, knowing she didn't even hit him that hard.

"Don't be jealous that they like me better than you, amor." She teased back at him. "Everyone loves me."

"Y/n?!" A cheer caused her to turn around as she took in the blonde-haired girl who rushed over to her.

"Pen!" She held her arms open as Penelope hugged her tightly. "It's good to see you again." She placed a friendly kiss on her cheeks as she smiled at her.

"Derek didn't mention you were stopping by!" She gushed as she shot a slight glare at Derek. Derek just chuckled as he knew how much Garcia adored his girl. He didn't blame her. Y/n was amazing. Truly.

"Well, Miss, Y/n," Hotch's voice had Y/n look over at him, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at her. "Good work with the case." He took his briefcase and looked at the rest of his team. "I'm going to head out for the night." They said their byes and watched him leave.

"It was a pleasure working with you briefly." Gideon gave her a slight nod as he followed Hotch, leaving for the day. The smile never left Y/n lips as she looked at Morgan, who gave her a wink.

"Told ya you did good." He gently rubbed her cheek. "My scholar."

[pablitogavii]

Best friends little sister Pt. 4

It was another EXHAUSTING week!! Faking it all in front of Pedri who really took a liking of Jacobo, Pablo who hated him more than any madridista and even my family who came into town for Ballon Dior..ugh fuck!

"How are you explaining your fake boyfriend why he's not your date tonight girl??" Masa teased cause she was the only one who knew the real truth..I was doing all this to get Pablo's reaction obviously!!! I turned the music up so nobody downstairs can hear it.

"He's technically a real boyfriend, you know that right???" I chuckle as she finished my makeup spraying some perfume onto my chest.

"Not the kind you let between your thighs!!!" she laughed loudly and I rolled my eyes looking in the mirror thinking of the last time I was intimate..it was with Pablo obviously..and it made my head spin..fuck I missed him!!!

"Shut up loca!!!" I push her and we both laugh dancing to the music until my mom called from downstairs wanting pictures..surely Pablo arrived too. I wondered what he might say when he sees me in this dress..it was looking stunningly perfect on my body.

y.n.gonzalez tiktok

Ballon D'ior ready💗

comentarios:

pedrisister: she's stunning 😍😍😍

ballond'ior: gorgeous ❤️

masa.babyy: my makeup slaysss!!!

gavira.babyy.girls: @pablogavi do you think she's beautiful? liked by pablogavi

gavi.pablo: omg he liked!!😳😳😳

jacobo_bru: mia bebaaa!!

gavi.y.n.cute: shut up she doesn't even like you!!

gaviragirls: she matching pablo's suit??🤔

gavibabyy: omg you're right!! pedri wears black and gavi blue 😳

I walked down the stairs in my high heels and Pablo stood there utterly mesmerized..he looked at every curve on my body smiling when he saw my blushed face..damn why was my heart racing so much!??

Just as I was about to step off the last stair, I almost fell but Pablo caught me saying "careful pequeñita" while Masa giggled excusing herself and leaving home. Damn did I really fall straight into his arms!?

After a few pictures and me freaking out every time Pablo's arm wrapped around my waist, did I walk with my mom to the kitchen while we waited for the limo.

"Princesita mia..your heart aches for that boy" she said and I thought she was talking about Jacobo telling her to stop teasing me but then she held my hand and I looked at her gaze towards Gavi. I gulped..was I too obvious?

"Mom, that's Pedri's best friend..and I'm with Jacobo" Isay as she raised up my chin caressing my soft cheek .

"Jacobo is a good boy..very kind..but it doesn't matter what this tells you.." she touched my temple and then rested her hand on my heart "if this doesn't agree.." and then they called my name to join them.

"I love you mama" you say and she smiles nodding and watching as you left with the two boys for the ceremony.

I were sitting between them the whole night feeling Pablo's stare on me most of the times. He was shamelessly looking like I still belonged to him..it pissed me off..but it also made me wet underneath my dress.

"How's Jacobo?" he whispered during a break when Pedri went to grab some water and I rolled my eyes clenching my jaw in annoyance. He's playing with me on purpose but I wasn't gonna let him win!!!

"He's absolutely fine, thank you for asking!" I sass but Pablo was only encouraged to move closer resting his chin on my shoulder and whispering into my ear. I froze from that familiar manly scent and his warm breath.

"I'm sure he's fine..but what about you nena??? I know how your beautiful dark eyes sparkle..when you're satisfied" he whispered the last part under his breath and I fought an urge to moan..damn he was good at this!!!

"Hmm I love looking into your eyes so much..but my favorite is the way they shine just as you're about to cum..holding onto me tightly and begging..papi please don't let me go..hmm and I wouldn't..I wouldn't let you go for anything in the world cielo" the more he talked the wetter I got slowly closing my eyes and enjoying myself. When I heard the last part, I sobered up..I moved away from him.

"But you did let me go..remember?" you say and he pouted about to reach for your hand but you pulled away.

"Cielo..." he said but my eyes were once again becoming sad...I need to stop playing with him...I just end up hurt every time.

"No! I need to use the bathroom!!!" you say getting up and passing Pedri as Pablo followed after you.

"Where are you guys going??? It's starting again soon!!!" he said but Pablo said he needed to use a bathroom really quickly...he couldn't handle you crying again!!!

I came out and someone grabbed me and glued me against the wall...I knew who it was...and I refused to look up into his eyes. I was so tired of all of this...I keep lying...and I just want him to let me go now!!!

"Please...don't touch me...let me go Pablo...stop playing with me finally!!!" I screamed not caring where I was and his hand covered my moth as he rested his forehead against mine.

"Do you really think I like this!!? Seeing you with that idiot when you're meant to be mine!!? You purposefully sitting on his lap when I'm there...but not even commenting on your pictures together!!! Stop doing this to me cielo...please" he whispered the last part removing his hand and holding my chin instead.

"What do you want!??" I say feeling his lips on my cheek as his hand moved down my dress into a slit on my thigh...I felt a shiver move down my spine...his touch felt so familiar, so right and I didn't have the strenght to stop him.

"You cielo...only you...fuck!!! You're drenched!!! Let me hear you moan my name one last time preciosa..I know how much I make you lose control..." he started massaging circles around your clothed clit and you moved closer whimpering into his ear until finally you weren't able to hold it any more.

"P..Pablo" you moaned throwing your head back but he caught it in his big hand before you could hit the wall smiling while kissing your forehead. You heard the audience applaud pulling away as you both rushed knowing you were just late to one of the most exclusive events in history!!!

When Pablo won something in me melted and tear left my eyes...despite everything I was so proud of him. The entire time he spoke he was looking straight at me smiling when he saw me crying happily.

While waiting for Pedri, Pablo took my hand and us two danced in the middle of the parking lot like two idiots laughing like it was the very first time we met...I missed this...missed him.

"Congrats on the award...i always knew you were amazing" I said afterwards and he stopped moving snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me closer.

"Please forgive me..I'll explain everything" he said looking straight into my eyes and I don't know why but I believed him...I wanted to believe him remembering my mom's words...Pablo is the only one my heart aches for.

There was no second guessing in what came next. I moved closer and kissed his lips as he held me tightly in his arms...this was right...this is where I belong!!!

After the event, you came back home never happier only to find Jacobo in your room with a grim expression on his face. Well, fuck!!!

pablogavi

Ballon D'ior Ceremony

Thank you for everything @ballondior ❤️❤️❤️

comentarios:

pedri: congrats hermano! i swear she cried when you won 😂😂😂

y.n.gonzalez: I did not!!!

pablogavi: I saw you did pequeñita!!!

gavirafans: look at them!!!😍😍😍

gavi.pablo: it's clear she's happier with you !

gavithebest: say bye bye @jacobo_bru 😂😂😂

aurorapaezg: I love the dress 😍😍😍

y.n.gonzalez: thank you💗💗💗

"Jacobo, it's really late...and I am..." I couldn't even finish the sentence as he was already throwing a phone into my face.

"Tired!!? Sure you are! Hooking up with Pablo Gavi!!!" I almost choked when I saw what's on the screen. It was an older picture...but it was me and Pablo kissing behind the bleachers...it was after El Classico when I wore his shirt. What the fuck!!! Who took this picture!???

Pedri heard Jacobo from his room clenching his fists and rushing to Pablo's house. Never before did he doubt, but now he was aching for a fight if it was true!!!

"Where did you get this picture???" you ask but Jacobo was in no mood to explain grabbing his phone rather roughly.

"I should have known!!! I asked you if you ever had anything with Pablo Gavi and you lied to my face!!! It makes sense what people online are saying!!!" he was yelling and I trembled really wanting him to just leave at this point.

"He's my brother's best friend, so I couldn't say anything about it but we ended things when I got into a relationship with you" I said trying to defuse the situation.

"Some relationship this is! You won't even let me touch you!! And Pablo Gavi surely already did that!!!" he was starting to get closer and I didn't feel good about it...no I felt uncomfortable...nervous...scared.

Meanwhile, Pedri was banging on Pablo's door being met by half asleep Aurora asking if everything is alright. He rushed inside as Pablo came down the stairs in his pajamas and messy hair.

"We need to talk!" he said and Pablo led him upstairs into his room while his sister retreated back to sleep.

"What happened hermano???" Pablo asked as Pedri sat down running his hadn't nervously through his hair.

"Jacobo and Y/n are fighting...over you" he said and Pablo nodded being patient to see what made his friend came all the way over here...but more importantly he disliked that Pedri left you alone with that idiot!!!

"I'll only say this once Gavi, she's my sister...she's off limits" Pedri spoke calmly although Pablo could tell he was just ready to explode...this was not the right moment for truth...so he did only thing he could...he lied.

"I would never do anything to hurt you or Y/n hermano..." was all Pablo said hating himself internally although it was partially true. He never wanted to hurt Pedri but what he felt for me was undeniable...something he couldn't let go off even when he tried pushing me away.

"Bueno. I should go back then..." just as he said that his phone rang and I was on the other line crying.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!!!" Pedri yelled telling Pablo what happened as they both went back seeing me crying in the corner of my room with a prominent bruise on my cheek.

"How did this happen hermana???" he asked while Pablo sat on the floor applying ice pack onto my cheek as I held his hand.

"He came closer and when I tried to push him off he pushed me and I fell and hit the nightstand...I just saw blood on my hand and called you" I explained crying in Pablo's arms while Pedri was ready to hunt Jacobo down in that moment.

My parents came back from their dinner and I begged Pedri to tell them while I get decent before coming down. He left and Pablo stayed helping me to the bathroom. WhenI was finally alone, I hugged him tightly crying into his chest while he held my head against him reassuring me that everything will be fine.

"I know about the picture Pablo..." I whisper looking up at his surprised eyes as we both knew this will sooner or later have to come out scared of the outcome.

[jnnul]

[9:12 a.m.]

gif creds: @jaeyxns

PAIRING ▸ husband!jay park x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, domestic love, husband!au, parents!au, a snippet of what i think jay's life would look like in like 15 years

WARNINGS ▸ mentions of (past/others') pregnancy, uhh i think that's it

WORD COUNT ▸ 1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ nothing super big but i was writing something else and then suddenly i was writing husband!jay. not sure either <3

"good morning, my love," your husband says from behind you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as he goes about fixing himself a mug of coffee.

"good morning, jay," you say with a smile, flipping the omelette in the pan to ensure both sides were well done before then flipping it into the plate next to the stove.

"when did you get home last night? ria, danny, and i missed you," jay says, taking a seat at the barstool at the counter so that he could be in the same space as you.

you turn to him, only to see him already staring at you as though you had hung the sun itself in the sky. you smile, sliding the plate over so that he could start eating before your rowdy children could come and fight their father for breakfast.

"i think around midnight. i'm sorry i had to miss barbie night," you say with a pout, focused on cracking the next egg in the pan carefully.

"oh don't worry about it. is your friend alright?" jay asks, getting out of his seat to grab the bottle of ketchup from the fridge. you nod absentmindedly, mentally trying to track the number of eggs you needed to feed your hungry little monsters (who were still sound asleep) and yourself and jay.

"yeah. in fact, it turns out that she's pregnant!" you exclaim, and jay can't help but smile at the excitement in your voice. "it would explain the sudden flu-like symptoms."

jay offers you a bite of his omelette as you rush around the kitchen. you accept it happily, giving him a thumbs up as you hurry to flip the next omelette.

"i had a feeling from a couple of weeks ago, honestly. i just didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't something that her and her boyfriend wanted," you explain and jay nods in agreement.

"especially since he's in the army. it's a tough decision. i mean we were married for two years before we even thought of danny," jay says and you smile, nostalgia filling the air.

"do you ever miss that? the honeymoon phases and all of the romantic stuff that we used to do before the kids?" you ask, strangely nervous about jay's answer.

jay ponders for a moment before shaking his head no, finishing off the last of his omelette cleanly.

"no. i mean our life might be a lot less 'romantic' and a lot more chaotic because of ria and danny but there's no place i'd rather be than with my kids and my beautiful, smart, and amazing wife," jay says, getting up to accept the next omelette. he sets down his now refilled plate, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking the two of you side to side.

"i know. honestly, our teenage years were nice. what, with the sneaking out of the house and the awkward prom pictures and everything but this is perfect. barbie nights and spending time with my perfect husband and my little angels?" you sigh, contended, as jay hums and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"keep saying things like that and we're going to have to add to the list of angels running around the house," jay says, his voice deep and full of promise. you clear your throat, a sudden heat rushing up your spine, about to somehow refute his statement when you hear the telltale signs of little feet padding down the stairs and you just barely manage to push jay off of you in time for danny and ria to come down the stairs.

"mama! dad! i'm hungry! i already brushed my teeth! ria didn't so she's stinky stinky but my teeth are sparkly," danny says, rushing up to jay to show off his pearly white teeth.

ria whines in protest, clamoring with all of her five year old might to show her father her clean teeth as well. "daddy, dandan's lying! i brushed my teeth! even all the way in the back!"

"baby, i believe you but remember what i told you? that dandan's gotta watch you brush your teeth just to make sure you're doing it right?" jay says gently, lifting his daughter up to press a kiss to her cheek, laughing when his nine year old son pouts and rushes to your side instead.

"mama, why doesn't dad say 'good job' even though i brushed my teeth?" danny says, fisting your skirt with a heartbroken tone that tugs at your heartstrings and you turn around to fix jay with a glare.

"dandan, good job buddy! i'm so proud of you! in fact, i'm so proud of you that i want you to have the first omelette," jay says, conceding his omelette to danny and ruffling his hair.

your son is easily appeased by the affections of his father and takes his seat at the counter to eat happily and jay gives you a coy wink before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"let me take my princess to brush her teeth - again," jay adds on at the end when he sees the protest bubbling up in ria's eyes. "you make sure my buddy gets to eat as many omelettes as he wants, okay?"

"daddy! be nice to mommy! you have to say please!" ria scolds jay, pointing her little finger in her father's face.

"yeah! dad, remember a gentleman always says please and thank you to his lady," danny says with a mouthful of omelette and you abandon your post to scoop up your son in a loving embrace.

"oh my god, he's growing up! you used to teach him how to read and now he's telling you how to be a gentleman; soon enough, he'll be telling that to his own kids," you cry out and jay rolls his eyes playfully.

"oh ew! mama, no thanks," danny says, crinkling his nose and making such a funny expression that you and jay can't help but laughing, causing danny and ria to laugh as well.

and your heart is so full. so full because this isn't just today's antics but the beautiful reality you get to experience for the rest of your life.

everything is perfect.