#when I say I’m in love with them I’m not exaggerating ❤️‍🔥

[cadaver-moss]

The deserved more screentime ❤️

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige. 

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history. 

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having. 

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.” 

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.” 

“How thoughtful of you.” 

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.” 

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for. 

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.” 

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books. 

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.” 

“Which one is he buying?” 

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.  

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.” 

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.” 

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.” 

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.” 

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.” 

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.” 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?” 

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.” 

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free. 

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?” 

“Tonight.” 

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day. 

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered. 

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant. 

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.” 

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back. 

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.” 

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—” 

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.” 

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do. 

To share his home. 

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.” 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office. 

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you. 

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” 

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.” 

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.” 

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while. 

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more. 

“Feeling better?” 

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.” 

That’s right. Friends. 

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.” 

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer. 

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?” 

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets. 

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.” 

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?” 

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.” 

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches. 

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances. 

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more. 

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh. 

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock. 

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse. 

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?” 

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated. 

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.” 

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.” 

“Relax?” 

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend. 

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.” 

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.” 

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.” 

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought. 

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose. 

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows. 

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.” 

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.” 

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.” 

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound. 

“Fine.” 

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins. 

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down. 

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control. 

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock. 

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him. 

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—” 

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm. 

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red. 

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.” 

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.” 

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.  

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.” 

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?” 

You cut him off, “N–No. . .” 

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.” 

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say. 

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.  

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs. 

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way. 

“It’s done.” 

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?” 

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.” 

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin.  His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change. 

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hazbin gals reacting to their s/o saying "I love you" for the first time? (totally not self-indulgent, not at all)

Hell Yeah, indulge baby!!! I love me some sapphic hazbin fluff. The only ‘gals’ I write for are Charlie, Vaggie and Velvette. I hope that’s cool 🙂 👍🏼 if anyone wants part two with other characters… *cough* Lucifer *cough* let me know 😙 ENJOY ANON~

TW: swearing, Vaggie in lingerie, Velvette gets a little assertive 😉 mostly fluff tho

Hazbin Gals- First ‘I Love You’s 💘

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Sitting on one of the couches in the lobby of the hotel, you watch with a content smile as your girlfriend paces back and forth, rambling on about her plans to save sinners and her mixed feelings about having a meeting with heaven. Charlie takes a few steps and pivots around before taking a few steps the other way, her fingers nervously fiddling with each other all the while her smile never fading.

“I’m just…I’m feeling so…AH! Ya know?” She finally scurries over to you and plops down on the couch, resting her hand on your knee. “Well I’m very proud of you, babe.” You respond with a smile but your eyes are fixed on her hand on your leg right now. As she continues her ranting, her words start to sound more like a song, the actual words not computing in your brain any longer. It’s just her pretty voice accompanied by her gentle touch. As if you couldn’t lose focus anymore, her hand shifts a bit, further up your thigh.

Her words stop abruptly, the silence causing you to look up at her. Her smile shrunk just a bit as she watched you, tilting her head to the side, her long hair swaying as it followed her movements. “What’s up, babe? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I-I uh…I love you.” It tumbles from your lips before you can stop it, before your brain can even register that you are speaking right now. The damage is done. All you can do now is stare at the gorgeous blonde in front of you with wide, expectant eyes and a worried, tight-lined frown on your lips.

Her face was…hard to read. Which is strange because the princess was usually so loud and dramatic and over exaggerated and so animated with her facial expressions. But this expression was one you’d never seen before. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, revealing her pearly white fangs. Her light yellow eyes were wider than you’ve ever seen them and the apples of her cheeks were nearly glowing red.

“Charlie? You…okay?” And like a switch being flipped, her expression changes completely. Now, her eyes are squinted up tight due to her huge, giddy grin. She’s holding her hands together tightly, slightly bouncing in her spot in front of you, soft giggles starting to sound from her.

“AWWWWW (Y/N)~” Charlie drags out saying your name, diverting her gaze elsewhere then bitting her lip shortly after. “I love you too. WOW!!! It feels so good to say that out loud and know you feel the same.” Her pale hands reach out for yours, squeezing your hands slightly as she looks into your eyes. “I love you.” She repeats at a much lower volume, making sure the words really sink in. Then she yanks you forward, wrapping you in a tight hug as soft giggles and dreamy sighs leave both your lips.

You’re not sure when she started crying because her body was once shaking from happy laughter and now, her body shakes as a soft gasp sounds from her, sniffling following shortly after. You pull away quickly to see her still sporting a big, goofy smile but with tears running down her cheeks. “You-you really l-l-love me…? AWW WWHAAAAA.”

Good job. You’ve reduced the princess of hell to a puddle of happy tears right in your lap. What else did you expect from the drama queen herself? Get ready for an all night cuddle session, complete with on and off kissing and crying.

Vaggie ⚔️

“Hey, hun. Good morning…” Vaggie mumbled softly to you as she groggily strolled towards you. This was a daily occurrence, a normal start to your morning- both of you getting ready in your own rooms then meeting in the lobby to say ‘good morning’ and then continue your day together. You had been dating for a good minute now but still haven’t moved into the same room. You decided a small boundary would be good for now until the relationship feels ready to move forward.

Today, a Saturday, you both thought it’d be fun to stay in your pajamas and have a lazy day. There were no solid plans today and you’ve been missing your girl so when you brought it up to her last night, Vaggie was more than happy to spend a lazy day with you. But holy hell…you’re at a loss for words when you realize her pajamas weren’t just pajamas. She had this absolutely gorgeous little white nighty on, a thin silky dress that barely covered her crotch and ass, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Was she wearing it for this occasion, just to impress you? Or…is this what she always wears to bed?

All your blood rushes to your face within seconds, even your ears were fire red as your eyes stayed stuck to her frame in that night dress. She normally dressed pretty feminine and cute but you never expected her to wear such adorable lingerie to bed. Vaggie seemed to catch on immediately, looking down at herself briefly before looking back at you with down turned lips and furrowed brows. “Too much?”

“Oh shit, I-I’m sorry. No! Just caught me off guard with your…pajamas. You’re just so cute. Shit, sorry, lemme stop talking now.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, eyes frantically scanning over her small but toned little body. You felt like such a perv, suddenly looking away and trying to hide your embarrassed and ashamed face in your hands.

Vaggie sympathizes, understanding that you’re flustered but also very into her but also trying not to stare. She steps closer, gently grabbing both your hands in hers. She lifts both your hands up and gently interlaces her fingers between yours. Your clasped hands were sweaty as hell against hers, making her smile grow a little bigger. “I can go change.” She mumbles softly, her eyes scanning your expression, waiting for you to make eye contact with her again.

All you could muster up is a low hum in response as you shake your head ‘no’. “Oh so you like it then?” She steps even closer, her barely clothed body nearly pressed against yours now. You swallow thickly, your lip quivering ever so slightly as you inhale, scrambling to find the words to reply to her.

“Oh y-yeah, I love it actually! I love you.” Your hand comes to your mouth as if trying to shove those last three words back in. You can’t help but stutter your way through a second response, but Vaggie throws her own reply in as well. “You do?” Vaggie is nearly whispering now, watching as you panic. “Fuck! No, that’s not what I meant. I mean-Well, wait…I-I…” She can tell you’re malfunctioning and probably very close to imploding in on yourself as you decide what is the right thing to say next. You shake your head vigorously, waving your hands in the air as if trying to clear your foggy brain. When you finally take a breath and look back to her face, Vaggie is smiling sweetly, looking as though she might just melt straight down into the carpet below you.

“Oh, (Y/N/N)~ I love you too.” She closes in on you fully, her arms quickly finding themselves comfy around your neck, her blushy face just inches from yours now. “Hmm…you think it’s too much for everyone else to see?” She has a smug smile on her face now. She was trying to tease you at this point, seeing just how far she could take this before you’re collapsing into her arms.

“Are you suggesting we go some where more private?” You try to flirt back but your voice cracks and you can’t maintain eye contact for longer than a second or two. Your attempt at flirting yanks a loud laugh from her, making her throw her head back momentarily before she pulls back and grabs your hand. She begins leading you towards her room, replaying your voice in her head over and over as you said ‘I love you’. She’s gonna ask you to say it again once you’re in private.

And you just can’t stop glancing down at her barely covered ass and her fully exposed legs in that cute nighty as you follow behind her. I mean who can blame you?

Velvette 💀

Your girl is going off right now, having just gotten into some stupid fight with Valentino. You’re so super sure he’s the most toxic being you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting and it irked you even more that he was her business partner, her roommate. This is a regular occurrence- Val barging into Velvette’s studio drunk as hell, yelling and smoking the whole room up. And every time, Velvette gets pissed and instantly starts spewing rude names and swear words at him. It’s honestly pretty frightening to have to sit back and watch, eyes darting back and forth between them as you cower in your seat, knowing that if you even try to intervene you might end up double dead.

But now, Val has been gone and out of sight for at least ten minutes now but Velvette is still completely irate. She’s now sitting beside you on a couch, just the two of you taking up space in the studio. You watch as she rants and rambles, her expression full of rage, her voice booming with a slight growl to it. You weren’t sure how to talk her down from this one, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so…stressed.

You decide maybe a gentle touch would help pull her attention to you so you can further try to calm her and get her mind off Val. As your hand slips into hers, she holds it firmly but continues to vent, telling you all about her feelings. “Like what a fucking dickhead! Ugh! I don’t storm into his studio and interrupt his fuck fest.” Your other hand moves to join the one that’s already holding Velvette, gently rubbing up and down her arm. “Yeah, Im sorry, V. He’s the worst…”

Still, Velvette is talking at a rapid pace but her voice has become much softer, her face seeming to relax a bit as her eyes move to focus on the gentle hand on her arm. “Is there…anything I can do to calm you?” You try to interject, hoping to stop her train of thought from going crazy and derailing. “No, darling. No. It’s alright. I’m sorry you have to see me get so nasty and ugly like this. I just can’t control my temper sometimes. Oh, I’m so ashamed.” She turns her face away from you- this is a side of Velvette you’ve never seen before. She gets mad often, she does have a fiery temper and you’ve seen that well enough by now but you both know she’s never been this pent up and pissed off. The more she calms down, the more insecure she becomes…a side of Velvette no one has ever seen.

“Oh, no! Don’t apologize. I know you’re not yelling at me, you’re more…yelling to me. It’s good to vent, to get it all out. Don’t worry, babe. I love you-“ and her head turns so fast, you’re concerned about her neck for a second. It’s almost like she processed your words before you did. “Did…you just say you love me?” She leans back, not to get away from you but to get a better look at your face right now.

And now you’re burning up, feeling sweat start to form under your arms and on your forehead. Oh and your hands? Yeah, They’ve been sweaty! “Uh no, no…I uh…” You can’t even come up with an excuse or any kind of comeback before Velvette is on the move, slowly crawling over you with a devious smirk on her thin lips…excruciatingly slow…

“Nah ah ah. Don’t lie to me, darling.” She continues her pursue on you, pushing you back into the couch as she towers over you now, her hands on your wrists as she pins them back against the cushions. “Say it again.” With her so close to you, fully on top of you now, it’s becoming extremely difficult to avoid her gaze or try to escape the situation. “C’mon, I wanna hear it again.” She teases, leaning in to gently tap her nose on yours. Your breath catches in your chest, your stomach feeling warm and bubbly as you close your eyes, focusing in on her soft breaths wafting across your lips.

“I love you…” You finally get it out again, not daring to open your eyes. You’re pretty sure if you opened your eyes and looked up at Velvette right now, you’d completely erode away from embarrassment right before her eyes, just a pile of dust. Hearing the words again sends a jolt of electricity to Velvette’s brain and all her courage suddenly swells in her gut and she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s quick and soft and somehow better than every other kiss you’ve ever shared. Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment.

Finally, she got you to open your eyes again. The shocked look on your face makes her want to go even harder, tease you even more, turn you into a bright red jittery idiot right here right now. “I love you too, my darling little angel baby.” Velvette loves to call you that, she figures she’s more evil you’re more good, you balance each other out, yin and yang. Aaand yep! She was right, calling you cute pet names would break you even further.

Velvette sits back on the couch, cackling, gasping for air, trying her best to keep her eyes open through the tears so she can see your face. She’s not making fun of you…but she’s kinda making fun of you. She’s so very flattered you love her but you get so jumpy and shy when she presses you like that, she can’t help but take advantage sometimes. She adores the hell out if you and often wonders how a soft, gentle, kind heart like yours could truly be in love with a heart like hers.

“I love you more, (Y/N).”

Aaannddd cue the make out sesh

[thenickgirl]

TERRIBLE TWOS

dad!nick x male!reader

summary: in which you and your husband, Nick, try to handle your daughter, Aliyah’s, tired behavior.

genre: fluff ✩ pov: second person ✩ word count: 1.4k

warnings: none?

a/n: uhh i know i said i wasn’t writing another fic, but i’m a liar so, jokes on you actually. i came up with this in the shower and just couldn’t pass it up. it was meant to be a little blurb, but gang wanted more so. the ending is awkward sorry, i still don’t quite know what i’m doing. anyways, happy reading! ❤️‍🔥

Life as new parents isn’t always the easiest, but you two have handled things fairly well. The past two years with your daughter, Aliyah, have been amazing. Nick is able to work on his business remotely, so he mostly stayed home with her, while you went in to work everyday. He was an outstanding father, and Aliyah absolutely adored him, they were so close. She loved you just as much of course, and on the weekends she loved having you both home to cuddle and play with. She had grown used to your daily routine, however, today was going to be different, because Nick had meetings lined up that he had to be in the office for, so you took off in order to stay home with her. It wasn’t the first time you had been alone with your daughter obviously, but it had been a while. Still, you were eager to spend some one on one time with your sweet girl. You had heard horror stories of people complaining about their toddlers' behavior, but you always chalked it up to them either over exaggerating or just being bad parents. That was until today, when your own toddler decided she wanted to switch things up.

-

“BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??” you shout as your husband, Nick, walks in the door, his hands full of bags you assumed to be groceries. “I know, I’m sorry our last meeting ran way over, and I knew we needed some things for dinner so I decided to stop by the store on the way home.” He says as he walks into the kitchen, placing the bags onto the island. “We might not even make it to dinner!” you shout, and Nick looks over at you confused, his eyes narrowing. “Babe, what are you talking about?” he chuckles, as he puts the food away, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. “Aliyah, your daughter, didn’t go down for her nap today.” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why is she only my daughter when she doesn’t take a nap?” he responds, mimicking your gesture. “That’s because she acts just like you when she doesn’t. She’s extremely cranky. She wouldn’t stop crying. She’s been throwing fits every 15 minutes. SHE ACTUALLY THREW AT BLOCK AT ME!” you yell recounting the event. Nick bites back a laugh before the realization hits him, “Ohh no,” he whispers. “Exactly! I swear, this is the worst it’s ever been,” you sigh, placing your head in your hands.

“No!” Nick utters, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, we are not going to be defeated by a 2 year old, okay? This is our house, and we’re in charge.” he says hastily as you nod along to his rant. “Yeah, we’re the adults here!” you agree. “Say it!” he demands, “This is our house, and we’re in charge!” you shout. “RIGHT! So where is she?” he asks, walking out of the kitchen into the hallway. “She’s sitting in her playroom room, I turned on Gracie’s Corner. This is the longest that she’s been content all day. I don’t see how you do this, I almost started crying with her.” you say before following behind your husband, and he chuckles at your statement before turning to face you, “You’re doing great, it gets better, I promise,” he praises as he holds your face in his hands, kissing your forehead sweetly, and you smile up at him.

“Well, did you at least put the Gracie video on loop?” he asks, turning away to walk down the hall towards the playroom, with you not far behind. “Loop? What loop? What are you talking about?” you ask confusedly, and Nick stops in his tracks, causing you to run into him. He turns around sharply to face you, his eyes widening. “You didn’t loop it? Babe, you have to loop it because once it goes off she-“ “DADDYYYYYY!” you hear your daughter’s cries from down the hall, and sigh deeply. As you and your husband rush to her, you were stopped in your tracks by her meeting you halfway, her ocean blue eyes welling with tears.

You both kneel down to her level, and Nick wipes away her tears with his thumb, his demeanor softening the second he sees his little girl. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks softly. “Daddy, Gwacie went off, I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie!” she chants, stomping her tiny feet. You and Nick just sit there, watching your daughter absolutely lose it. “Liyah Jade, c’mon now. Gracie isn’t going anywhere, we can always restart it, you’re fine. Just calm down, honey,” he reassures her. “Okay, can I have a cookie pwease daddy?” she says pouting. “Sure, let's go get you a cookie,” “Nicolas!” you utter in disbelief. “Why don’t you go pick out the cookie you want okay? I’ll be there in a second,” he says to his baby girl as she skips away down the hall. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “Cookies before dinner, really?” “I know, but she was pouting, and c’mon she’s so cute!” he says defeated. “What happened to ‘this is our house and we’re in charge’?” you say, chuckling and he pauses. “Doesn’t really sound like something I would say,” he smirks as he walks into the kitchen with Aliyah, shaking your head at the way she had him wrapped around her little finger.

-

Once back in the playroom, after having cookies and watching Gracie together as a family for what felt like the hundredth time, you noticed that it was getting close to dinner time. You leave the two to continue watching more videos while you go and cook. You decide to prepare something quick and easy. After spending all afternoon with a grumpy toddler, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more elaborate. As you were finishing whipping up dinner, you could hear Nick and Aliyah in the other room bickering, and you couldn’t help listening. His ability to straight up argue with a toddler never ceased to amuse you.

“But honey, when you make a mess you have to clean it up. Look, we can even make it fun. I can turn on some music and-”

“No, daddy! I can’t want to!”

You couldn’t see him, but you just knew your husband was rolling his eyes. Once dinner is ready, you call for them to come and eat. To your surprise dinner goes smoothly. Usually, Aliyah complains about eating her vegetables, saying ‘I can’t want that! It’s gwoss’, but tonight she ate them willingly. Maybe her missing a nap wasn't so bad after all, you thought to yourself. You glance over and see your daughter yawn for the third time, and you and Nick give each other a knowing look. The ‘no naps’ campaign she had been running was finally taking a toll on her.

-

After dinner, you started getting ready for bed. You gave Aliyah a bath, brushed her teeth, and got her ready for bed. Nick came in soon after to read her favorite story. She cuddled up next to him, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. You watched from the door frame as the story ended, and your toddler now sound asleep in your husband's arms. “Soo, have we defeated Bowser yet, or no?” you say teasingly. “Shh! Don’t call her that!” Nick says as he throws a plushie from her bed at you. You jump out of the way so that it misses you, “I’m kidding! She is cute though, especially when she’s sleeping,” you say looking down at her tiny frame, smiling. “Amen to that, a lot quieter too.” You both chuckle and Nick gets up out of her bed, careful not to wake the little sleeping beauty, before tucking her in, and you each kiss her goodnight.

You tip top quietly out of her room, closing the door gently, and you both let out a sigh of relief. You head towards your bedroom which is only a couple doors down, and start getting ready for bed yourselves, the two of you feeling pretty worn out. After showering and slipping on pajamas, you both plop down into your bed on your respective sides, settling under the covers. “Today went completely different from what I expected,” you confess as you cuddle into your husband's side. He laughs as he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back softly. “I probably should’ve given you a heads up about that. She is a menace when she’s tired,” “Yep, sounds familiar,” you tease and he pinches your side. “Heyyy! I’m not that bad, and I will just go to sleep if I’m tired, not start a whole ass riot,” he says in defense and you both laugh. After a while, a comfortable silence grows between you and before long you both drift off to sleep.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo @sturniolossss @moonk1ss3d @nickgetsmewetter

[deadgirlwalking91]

are you kidding?

how come i always get wet when i read TYFTV- istg, your writing is divine.

the way Lute led the shots at the end was perfect, (at first i thought she was gonna tease his dick asf sht as he did with her LOL.)

and due to the fact that none of the girls he hooked up with ever tried to question him, Adam finds out he actually likes it when Lute is the one dominating the game turns and it turns me on even more.

what more can i say?

you really know how to build sexual tension. That part where Lute looked at her reflection in Adam's mask to see how needy she looked as Adam touched her is my favorite so far (after the fence one of course)

•1st question;

- idk whats your headcanon, but i always liked to think that back to Eden Adam and Lucifer where actually friends.

so i wanted to know if your Adam had ever had interest in boys, or even jst out of curiosity, dicked one of them.

•2nd question;

-it doesn’t actually relate to TYFTV, but- ya know the book Charlie read in ep 1? which is the first thing we’ve got to see? since it was made up by lucifer and Lilith, do u think they changed the way things went?

i mean, the book says that Adam was arrogant since his creation while Lilith didn’t want him to control her.

and i think it’s a fuckin lie- they were the 1sr two humans and there’s no way Adam was such a jerk since the begging,

-they both didn’t know what they were doing and i’m sure both him and Lilith had the same behaviour. Both of them wanted to dominate the other one and shit, they both made plenty mistakes, but Lilith was weaker than Adam. (maybe)

i jst don’t trust the book- cause if Adam was such an asshole Lilith wouldn’t have lose her dignity by coming back to him and making a deal to please herself, she was the queen of hell after all and there was no point. Lilith and Lucifer sure asf exaggerated.

Hey Anon!

Answer below because, spoilers

Well, shit, my work here is d o n e 🤭

Kidding. I'm just getting started ❤️‍🔥 (also where has this emoji been all my life? Gives me WooHoo icon vibes from the Sims)

Ok, in all seriousness, that is the biggest compliment I could have hoped to receive from this chapter so thank you so much <3 I was having one of my (many) meltdowns over this chapter, and I said to @a-dose-of-comatose that I just wanted people to feeeeeeeeeel the tension building to the point of no return. So I'm really, really happy to hear that you felt it <3 So, fun fact - the Lute bathroom scene has been brewing for a good three months now. I always wanted her to have a moment where she takes control, and I figured this was her time. She deserves it after all the shit Adam put her through.

I'm also a slut for dirty talk, so the dialogue around the reflection was very fun for me to write ;)

OK - as for your questions:

Adam and Lucifer totally fucked around back in the Eden days... I mean, what else was there to do?!

2. Hard agree re Lilith's book for Charlie. We're only getting one side of the story here, and I'm keen as to hear the other side to it (come onnnnn Sinner Adam). Right from the beginning we're fed an unreliable narrative - which I guess makes sense, considering Adam's the big, bad villain of S1. Still, if he returns, I'd love to see him go, "well, hold up, here's my side of the story!"