#I’m not trying to guilt anyone into paying more attention to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futterurl · 5 months

Note

Hello! I absolutely love the future man writings you’ve done and wanted to request smut for josh futturman. I can just imagine for his first time getting intimate with a partner he just gets so overly eager that he ends up overstimulating himself and his partner hehe

sry ive been gone for a bit schools been kicking my ass ! anyways yeah i got a little carried away sry if this isnt what u rlly had in mind

WARNINGS: fem!reader, titplay, oral(f!receiving), virgin!josh, p in v, creampie, super soft

- - - - - - - - -

it had been a nice day, going out and spending the day with your boyfriend, josh. you two were sat in your apartment, watching a movie, him holding you in his arms while a bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. his hand held onto your forearm, rubbing back and forth lightly with his thumb.

you loved days like this. you loved your boyfriend. he was the sweetest guy you had ever met, and boy were you glad he was yours. he would constantly try to spend time with you, and would try to teach you about the video games that he played. you always looked up to him.

and to him? lord, you were a goddess. you were this kickass woman who was one of his well respected co-workers, you had such a beautiful personality, and you were drop dead gorgeous to him. he fell in love with you all over again whenever he looked at you.

you both tool each other in with your worries and guilts. he knew that you were more shy, and he did a majority of the talking in public, and wouldn’t try to pressure you with anything. he was so kind to you, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

while you guys were snuggled up, you started to talk over the movie, not paying it much attention. just talking about funny stories that happened in the past.

“…and she caught me. jacking off. in my room. it was the worst thing ever.” josh was telling the unfortunate story of his poor mother just trying to bring him something, but seeing that mess instead. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“god, if that kinda stuff happened to me, i swear, i’d never look anyone in the eyes again.” you laughed.

“this is a random question, and sorry if it’s intrusive, but…have you ever had…like, sex before?” he asked you, sitting up on the couch so he could look you in your eyes.

you shifted, not used to being asked this question. “i…i have. once. it was a mistake. i don’t know why i did it.”

he started to look a little worried. “did he make you do that?” hoping it wasn’t that.

“oh, no! no! don’t worry, i was fine with it.” you reassured him. “i just…regret it, was all. it wasn’t all that good, just a heat of the moment thing, wanting to do it. we fucked, he came, and that was that. nothing special.”

“did he uh…did he make you…y’know…” he tried to ask in the most not awkward way possible, which was still very awkward.

“make me cum? uh, no. it wasn’t…wasn’t really a priority, i guess. just the experience.” you started to fidget with your hands.

“that’s…yeesh, that’s kinda fucked.” he was a little irritated. was it that difficult to focus on a girl for a few minutes to make her feel good? he didn’t understand it. “i’m sorry it wasn’t good. i just don’t get how he could finish and not care that you didn’t.”

“it’s fine. i don’t really care that much.” you were still a tad bit upset over it, but he was out of your life now. you didn’t have to worry shout him, only being in your happiest relationship yet with josh.

“what about you?” you asked him, curious.

“me? oh, uh, this is kinda sad, but i…haven’t done that kinda stuff.” he started. “it just never kinda…happened. moment was never really right. but now i’m here, with you. i couldn’t be happier.” he hugged you, kissing your jaw.

you rubbed the back of his head. you loved this man more than words could describe.

“i don’t know how to ask this in a way that isn’t awkward, but i’m just gonna go ahead…would you mind if i…if i, uh, made you…you cum?” he asked, looking at you.

you looked at him. “a-are you sure? you don’t have to if you feel bad or anything like that, it’s not your obligation to-”

he cut you off, holding your hands in his. “i…i want to do this. it’s not out of sadness or anger for you…”

you gave him an inquisitive stare.

“okay, maybe it is a little bit.” he admitted. “but i really do wanna do this. i’ve wanted to do this with you…for a little bit now, but i didn’t know how to ask, or bring it up. you feeling good makes me happy.”

it was like he was trying to make you fall in love again and again.

“josh, that’s really sweet…i…i do think i may be ready to try this stuff out with you.” you started to get a little shy.

“okay…okay…great.” he tried to hype himself up, telling himself that it’s real and this was happening. “just, uh, tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything like that, and we can stop, go back to watching the movie, no questions asked, okay?”

you smiled, knowing he was your safe place. “thank you so much.” you gave him a kiss on his lips. he went and deepened the kiss, holding your frame in his arms.

you made out, him slowly getting on top of you, laying you in the couch. his hands went from holding your body to feeling around: touching your hips, your waist, your breasts, everything. he gently caressed one of your breasts, to which you let a moan out at.

“did you like that?” he asked.

you nodded, pulling your shirt up. “please.” you yanked it off your body. he stared at you with awe, your breasts clad with a bra. you looked so beautiful to him.

“can i…can i take this off?” he asked, fingers playing with your bra. you nodded, reaching back and unclasping it.

“how the hell do you unclasp that so easily?” he discarded your bra, asking while staring at your bare breasts.

“lots of practice, i guess. you get used to it after wearing these since the ripe age of 13.” you giggled.

his hand moved towards your breasts, but hesitated. he didn’t want to squeeze them too tight, or hurt you.

“you can touch then, josh. it’s okay. please. i want you to.” you reassured him, guiding his hand to gently caress your left tit. he played with it, new to the sense of it.

“it’s so soft…” his thumb ran over your nipple, causing you to shudder. he could tell you liked that.

“do you think i could…suck on them?” he asked, testing the waters. you nodded your head slowly.

“yes, please. whatever you like.”

“this is about you, though, not me. i want this to feel good for you.” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. sure, he was getting very caught up in the moment, but he knew he ultimately wanted you to have a good takeaway from this: you were someone he loved so much, he wanted to watch and make you feel good.

“josh, i want you to do this, don’t worry.” you smiled at him. he was so careful with you, it made you feel so delicate. so special.

he leaned his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his lips wrapped around it while his tongue ran over it.

you ran your fingers through his hair. you had thought he’d be a boob guy, and this for sure proved it. he loved feeling them, the texture so foreign to him.

he moved on to the other breast, suckling onto your other nipple, to which you let out a gasp at. it felt…good.

he played with your other breast in his hand, giving it gentle squeezes. you let out a hushed moan. you didn’t think it’d feel good.

his head lifted up, kissing you again. it was a deep kiss, his hand digging to play with the hem of your pants.

“please, wanna make you feel good down there.” he pleaded, looking at you for permission.

you had never been like this before. someone focusing on you felt…unbelievable. it really did.

you nodded, unzipping your pants. “please, josh, want this so bad. want you so bad.”

he lifted your hips up, helping you shimmy out of your pants and panties. you were there, completely bare in front of him. he took his shirt off, trying to make you feel more comfortable. he stared at you with awe.

he couldn’t believe you were with him. you were so beautiful, and had an even better personality. he couldn’t believe that you loved him, and that you were willing to do this with him. he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“is this okay?” he asked, lowering himself, his head in between your legs. he rubbed your thighs, trying to help you stay comfortable. he could see your slick. he wanted to get a taste so badly.

“yes, please josh. please.” you wailed.

he obliged, taking a long lick up your slit.

“oh, fuck…” you moaned. loud. you hadn’t ever felt that good before.

“you okay?” he asked, making sure he didn’t do something wrong.

“i’m great, just felt really fucking good…holy shit.” you looked down at the sight of him, in between your thighs.

he dipped in again, this time bringing his tongue to lay flat on your clit. you shuddered, feeling all sorts of sensations. he held your hips steady, running his tongue in tight circles around your clit.

you swore to god, you could hear him groaning into your cunt. he was letting out little noises in exasperation as he pleasured you, rubbing your clit with his tongue, getting into a rhythm.

“jesus christ, josh, i’ve never felt so good, fuck…” you could barely get the words out in between moans.

he licked another stripe down your slit and ran his tongue on your entrance. you tugged at his hair a big, cautious yet excited to see where this was gonna go.

his tongue slowly crept inside of you, feeling around as you scratched at his scalp, letting little whimpers out. he held tightly onto your thigh as he started to tongue fuck you.

you threw your head back in pure ecstasy. you were starting to get close.

“josh…g’na come soon…fuck…” you panted out.

“please.” he said, moving his mouth up and tasting you all over. “do it f’ me. come on my face. please. you’re so hot. fuck. come all over me.”

he moved his mouth and latched onto your clit again. from there, he just sucked. your orgasm approached.

you let out a cry as your hips started to spasm ever so slightly, your body contorting. josh continued to suckle on your clit while you rode out your orgasm.

“oh my god…” you breathed. “how are you so fucking good at that?”

he lifted his head up, mouth coated in your cum. “don’t know. just pure talent i guess.”

you lightly pushed him. “fuck you.”

“i mean, if you’d be ever so kind.”

you looked at him, starting to laugh, but understanding what he wanted: you.

you moved yourself closer to him, closing the space in between you two.

“please.” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “i..i think i’m ready for this. fuck me, josh. please.”

“fuck, i’m so fucking hard for you right now, holy shit.” he kissed you, lying you back down on the couch. he pulled his pants down, huge erection standing up in his underwear.

“do you see how crazy you make me? you’re so perfect.” he looked down as he slowly started to take off his underwear, cock standing out.

you blushed. even in situations like this, he still made you feel so special.

he got on top of you, cock springing out, almost touching your delicate folds. you shuddered.

“a-are you sure you wanna do this, josh?” you asked him. doing something like this for the first time was really important to you, so you hoped you could make it important to him.

“yes, there’s no one i’d rather do this with than you.” he kissed you softly, sliding his cock through your slit, bumping his tip to your clit. you both groaned lightly.

“i…i’m gonna put it in now…okay?” he asked for permission.

you smiled. “yes. please.”

he used one of his hands to steady himself and his other one to hold yours as he slowly pushed inside of you. he was feeling all sorts of new sensations, all good like he’d never felt before. your walls clenched around him. he let out a moan as he slowly inched himself inside you.

you held his hand, gripping it tight. it had been awhile since you’d done this. it was a big stretch, but it felt so damn good to have him inside of you.

he finally bottomed out, cupping your cheek. “you’re so tight…oh my god…i knew it’d feel good but…didn’t expect this…” he was breathing heavily, catching up with his senses. he felt like he was going to cum just from being in you.

“josh, want you t’ start moving.” you pleaded, feeling so full but desperate for friction.

he obliged, giving experimental thrusts and letting out low groans in the process. your tight walls kept sucking him in, as if they didn’t want him to pull out.

“fuck, you feel so good. i love you so much.” he started to thrust a bit faster now, hands on your hips, holding you steady. every time his hips met yours you could feel yourself groan with delight. even though this was his first time, he wanted to take care of you.

he started to thrust hard, moaning sweet nothings into the room. every word he said professed his love for you and your body.

one thrust in particular hit a certain part inside you that made you let out a really high-pitched moan. he stopped, looking at you.

“shit, you okay?” he asked.

“yeah, m’ fine, that just felt really good.” you gave him a smile.

he tried to angle his hips to hit that sensitive spot again, which he was successful with after a few harsh thrusts. he abused that sweet spot with every thrust, leaving you a moaning mess. he took your lips into his, kissing you like your lives depended on it.

“josh, close, shit.” you could barely form words with how good you felt.

“me too, gonna cum, fuck.” he started to move incredibly fast, moving like there was no tomorrow. “please, cum on my cock.”

you could feel the knot on your stomach start to snap, riding out your orgasm. you were letting out these pornographic moans that were driving him insane, leading him to cum right after you did.

but he didn’t stop.

“feel too damn good. can’t stop. shit.” he continued his quick and deep thrusts, leaving you screaming.

“josh, can’t. already came. oh my god.” you were a moaning mess, feeling his cock penetrating your tight walls right after having an earth shattering orgasm.

“please, need you to cum again. wanna make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.” he moaned, trying to hit that spot inside you with every single thrust, making himself feel overstimulated in the process.

you felt another orgasm start to bubble up inside you as he kept going. the knot snapped yet again when he led his hand to your clit, rubbing it in circles with his thumb.

“cum for me, please. cum. wanna make you feel good. please. need you to cum on my cock again. i’ll do anything.” he begged and pleaded, bot stopping his aggression to your cunt.

you were practically screaming, head thrown back and breathing like a madman. he helped you ride through your orgasm, him taking a few extra seconds to reach his own again, as well.

he eventually stopped, laying on you carefully as to not hurt you.

“sorry, got…got a little carried away.” he said in between breaths. he felt so woozy.

“no, it felt really good josh. thank you.” you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as he lay on top of you.

“was it that good?” he asked, making sure you got as much satisfaction as he did.

“i’ve never felt that good in my life. serious.” you replied. he knew how to make you feel special and really good. “you’re amazing.”

he held you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “i hope you know how much you mean to me. i love you so much, and i wanna be with you forever.”

you were practically gushing. he was so darn cute. “i love you more.”

#future man #future man smut #josh futturman #josh futturman smut #josh futturman x reader

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pyro-chaos · 6 months

Text

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt: 3 Friday Nights

Summary: Abby’s first sleepover gives you and Mike some alone time.

The friendship continues

Tropes: fluff, sultry thoughts but no explicit smut.

Word count: 3337

And they were roommates…

Pt. 3 of This Series

A\N: Hey!! So I’m a bit more insecure about this one than I am with my previous two parts. I still think it’s sweet, and I like how it turned out, but let me know if I should do a rewrite!!

“I mean truly, the stark change within Abby…”

The school counselor’s words fall on ears occupied with something else.

“….I mean I’ve never seen…”

Mike tried to pay attention - at the beginning - but eventually the words tangled together to create a meaning the counselor could’ve communicated with one or two sentences.

“… so quickly. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly…”

Plus, Mike has more important things on his mind.

“… good that she has someone like you.”

Mike barely catches the end of her…seemingly endless lecture.

He hears the compliment. It feels unwarranted but Mike politely grins anyway.

Mike has questions. He has so many questions.

The problem that the counselor is referring to… Abby healed it on her own, mostly. Her friends helped her - but crawling out of her shell - thats all her. Mike just made sure she didn’t die. Even then…

He still feels stabbing guilt; a lot of the time. For what he almost did.

“Sh - She gets nightmares, sometimes,” Mike does too, but this isn’t about him.

“is” he gulps down the lump in his throat, “- is there anything I can do?”

The counselor folds her hands together like she’s trying to explain something to a feral child. Mike recognizes the gesture. It’s not one of genuine kindness; it’s the kind of gesture someone enacts when dealing with a delicate situation.

“Does she talk to anyone? About the nightmares.”

Mike huffs, “she’s pretty tight lipped about it,” but he knows that she wants them to stop.

“No,” the counselor almost sounds amused, Mike tries not to let the tone offend him.

“I mean does she talk to anyone about it.”

Ah. He gets it now.

“You mean like a shrink?” He questions.

The counselor nods and gives him a look doused in sympathy. It makes Mike want to get up and leave.

“Can’t afford it.”

“Ah,” she says, before launching into another lecture about how to avoid dreams, and calm anxiety before bed.

Mike listens this time.

The day after the meeting, Mike goes about his day.

Everything goes how it’s supposed to go. He goes to work, coordinates with his project supervisor, and eats lunch.

Until he gets a call from Abby’s school.

When Mike’s coworker, Jordan, calls him out of the work room, he says it’s an emergency.

Mike’s heart fucking palpitates. He almost drops the damn drill.

He’s never struggled to take off his gloves, or unclip the bulky helmet, but he does now. His hands get clammy and hot. It gets hard to breathe.

Mike’s still has the safety goggles on when he gets to the phone.

“Hello? What’s wrong?”

Abby’s voice comes through the other end, “Can I have a sleepover with Selina?”

Mike exhales. He rips the safety goggles off and rubs the bridge of his nose.

He takes one more deep breath before answering, “Is that all you called to ask?”

Abby confirms before launching into an explanation, “Please, please. Katy is going, and so is Josie and Sofia and they’re making cookies and Silena has a trampoline.”

Mike’s tapping the phone, his fingers feel tingly and that urge to hold his breath comes back, “Look, I don’t think that’s a good -“

“- No, It’s fine. They have a trampoline Mike, please.”

She doesn’t get it.

That’s the hardest part. She doesn’t understand that she’s not safe at someone else’s house. Overnight? What if there’s a fire? or what if she can’t sleep?

Mike remembers the school counselor's words about Abby’s progress. He would’ve taken her opinion with a grain of salt, if he didn’t see it for himself.

Even according to Mike’s independent observation; Abby’s started to smile around other kids a lot more compared to before.

In fact, she’s planning fucking sleepovers with other kids.

Mike thinks about his mom.

What would their parents do?

“I want to talk to Selina’s parents first.”

So, Mike does end up talking to Selina’s parents.

He meets them in the parking lot after school.

They explain the whole ordeal. Their plans and the occasion that sparked the sleepover.

They seem normal. They remind Mike of coworkers his dad used to invite to 4th of July grills.

The mom - Janice - works at the hospital, and the dad - Sean - works at a bakery.

Sean and Janice give Mike their house address. So, he knows where to drop off Abby after she goes home to pick up clothes and a sleeping bag.

When Mike enters the car, he’s greeted with two sets of expectant gazes.

Mike’s eyes shift between the two of you, Abby’s grinning, but you just look sheepish.

Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, “make sure to pack your toothbrush.”

Abby smiles on the way home.

You're in the living room when just Mike walks through the door.

You have pajamas on, and you’re lounging on a loveseat tilted towards the TV. A mug of wine rests on the coffee table. Along with some type of cheese and cracker.

Something smells good.

“There’s food on the stove, it should still be hot” you call, then eat a cracker.

Mike beelines a straight shot to the kitchen, “Thanks.”

You mhm through a mouthful.

Mike can’t wait to eat, but when he reaches for a plate he sees the specks of sawdust layering his clothes.

He clenches his jaw, and counts backwards from ten.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna shower first, but if you leave the dishes I’ll do them later.”

Your eyes stay glued to the TV, “Okay, there’s also wine on the top of the fridge. If you want any.”

Mike showers and dresses. When he returns to the kitchen, the quietness hits him square in the face.

Abby’s not in the house, and it feels like he’s forgetting something important - Like his keys are missing, or he lost his wallet - It puts him on edge.

Despite his unease, something sweet and warm, like syrup, spreads through Mike when he serves himself a portion of dinner.

It’s mostly covered up by the gray-haired worry about Abby at someone else’s house, but Mike won’t deny the comfort of having a good meal, and wine, after working.

Mike doesn’t know how he did it when he lived alone with Abby. He had to cook, clean, and pay bills. All on his own.

Back before you, Mike would have to leave in thirty minutes for his second shift of the day.

Mike wonders if Abby enjoys the new schedule as much as he’s enjoying it.

He brings the food and the wine to the coffee table, and sits on the sofa adjacent to your loveseat.

Mike has no idea what the fuck you’re watching, but it seems…interesting.

He doesn’t care to complain, though. It’s not like he’s invested in the show.

A few beats of comfortable silence fly by before you speak, “How was work?”

Your question feels like an embrace. It’s the type of question that someone asks when they want to talk, but can’t think of anything else to say.

You want to talk to Mike, and it makes him feel some type of way.

Maybe it’s not that deep.

“Good - long - what’re we watching?”

“No idea. I think she,” you point to a character, “wants to do something that he-” you point to a different character, “doesn’t like. So, she’s going behind his back and stuff. But I’m just watching this because I like the show that comes on next, and I don’t wanna miss it.”

Mike hums through his food. He kind of wants to ask why you’re not going out. It’s Friday night.

Are you feeling alright? What’s different about this Friday from all the other Fridays?

Instead he does the dishes.

When he returns, he’s still not really paying attention to your show. Even though, every now and then you’ll add commentary. He just mhm’s through it.

Does Abby remember his number in case she wants to go early? What if she gets too cold in their house? What if she has a nightmare? Would she call him?

His fingers are pulling apart the threads at the arm of the couch, and his leg is bouncing.

He drinks more wine.

“- about it?”

Mike snaps out of his head, “uh,” he tries to blink himself awake, “- sorry, what?”

You shrug and gesture to his fingers pulling apart the couch, “you’re um,” you clear your throat, “you seem… off. Do you want to talk about it?”

He…didn’t even notice that he was fidgeting with the threads like that.

“Oh,” he chuckles, but the sound comes out sounding more awkward, and nervous than amused, “is it that obvious?”

“No, no not at all,” you make eye contact with him, and that creamy comfort returns to make a sugary home in Mike’s chest.

“Well…” you begin, “…Kinda, yeah.”

This time, the laugh you pull out of Mike sounds genuine. Even to him.

It’s not a huge laugh, more of a happy scoff really, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.

“It’s just…” Mike starts, and you direct your body to face him instead of the TV.

Even though your show is playing. You want to listen to Mike more than you want to watch your show.

He has to fight down a smile, “…this is the first time Abby’s had a sleepover.”

Your mouth makes an O-shape, and you nod like you’ve got it all figured out.

“Yeah, the first time is always the hardest.”

That makes Mike think. How would you know?

“My mom used to get so nervous when my brother started going to sleepovers,” you add.

Your understanding of his nervousness makes sense, given the backstory, but there’s a detail in that sentence about you, and it means something to him.

“You have siblings?”

You nod excitedly, “a brother and a sister.”

Mike literally has no idea how he’s never heard about this before, “how - how old are they?”

“My sister’s seventeen. She’s a junior in High school,” you’re talking with your hands as you talk about your siblings. You seem excited, It’s making Mike smile.

“You should see her play sports, she's the Volleyball team captain this year…”

For real, you’re talking about them like you’re proud, and the genuine joy in your tone makes Mike want to crawl up next to you.

“- and my brother’s heading into middle school but he’s such a sweet kid. He used to get so excited when we went to the park. He loves to climb trees.”

It sounds like you haven’t seen them in a while.

The stories connect a few dots for Mike, though. This is why you’re good with Abby.

You and Mike end up talking more, he blames the wine.

Apparently, he gets chatty when he feels that familiar alcohol-induced warmth in his stomach.

Eventually, he asks why you didn’t go out on a Friday night.

The answer is much simpler than he expects.

“My show finally came out with a new season, and the new episodes air on Fridays.”

Mike snickers. His amusement comes at the expense of himself. Of course it was something simple, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to speculate.

He doesn’t expect you to return the question. But you do.

“ - it’s your night off, Abby’s taken care of, and don’t you miss going out and doing your own thing?”

Well, to be honest, he never really had the time. For years, Mike spent nights occupied with…something he doesn’t need to do anymore.

He can’t tell you that, though.

So he says, “Nah, I never went out. Even before Abby.”

“Is it ‘cause you don’t like crowded spaces?”

Mike doesn’t think too hard about that, but he snickers because it feels like you pulled it out of a hat.

He snickered again. He’s doing that a lot around you.

It’s probably just the wine.

“No? Just never had the time.”

You nod, but then you get that wide-eyed excited look that you got when you asked Mike to move in with you,

“Wanna go out tonight?”

If anyone, ever, asked about why Mike agreed as quickly as he did, he’d blame the wine. He’d blame the wine until he went blue in the face and died of suffocation.

He doesn’t even admit to himself that the wine isn’t the reason he said yes.

After he agrees, you tell him about a place that you think he’d like.

You say that it’s, “like a botanical garden, but they put lights up, and serve food, at night.”

You tell him that it’s not crowded, like a bar or club, because technically it’s a fancy place, and that’s why you both need to change clothes before calling a cab.

So, Mike calls a cab. Then, he puts on a button-down shirt, and throws on a pair of his nice jeans.

Still, he feels slightly, very, underdressed compared to you.

You come out of your room wearing an elegant little black dress that hugs parts of you in a way that makes Mike blush and breathe heavy.

Your neck stays uncovered. He sees the skin where the hickies used to be, but this time there’s no hickies.

Mike can think of a way to change that.

His dick jumps, and he wishes he could do something about it.

You make him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel.

“You ready?” You ask, and Mike has to swallow and take a deep breath to keep himself in check.

He’s very ready. Just, not in the way you think.

“Uh, yeah. Are - are you?”

You smile and nod.

The cab drive goes well. Mike’s getting used to the tightness in his pants.

So, that place that you’d said he’d like, he does.

At first, it felt like he didn't belong. A lot of people dressed better than him, many have their hair in hairstyles, and he can’t pronounce more than half the food on the menu.

You can, though.

To be fair, the menu ended up as a non-problem; because after you pointed out the prices, Mike gave you a look, and you gave him the same look back.

You both scurried out of the seating area before an employee could take any orders.

Mike likes the botanical garden.

He likes how you talk in the botanical garden.

It costs to get in, but it’s gorgeous.

It's the twilight hour when you walk through the pathway together.

Sometimes your arms brush.

Every time it happens, Mike’s heart fills with something, but you don’t seem affected.

He glances at your fingers throughout the walk. He starts to note the little divots in your palms. How would they feel against his? Would you be mad? If Mike picked up your hand and kissed the palm?

You talk about the practical uses of plants that you see. Mike learns that dried-up yarrow leaves can help clot blood. He also learns that solar energy powers the lights shining on the rows of green life.

You talk about how cool it is, that the owners made this place one-hundred-percent sustainable, and he can’t help but agree.

Your smile infects him with feelings that flutter through his arteries, and you’re smiling a lot.

Eventually, conversation lulls, but it’s the nice kind of lull. It’s a quiet comfort, like warm sheets and fresh tea.

There’s a greenhouse exhibit towards the end of the pathway. A worker checks in your coat, then tells you where to pick it up at the end of the exhibit.

When he first steps inside, Mike nearly goes into shock over the change in temperature. It’s hot, and he has to roll up his sleeves immediately or risk complaining about it.

It doesn’t help.

The place smells good, though; like moist soil and moss.

The greenhouse has fairy lights hanging overhead, and multicolored flowers decorate the pathway.

It’s laid out like a maze, the illuminated path winds around little islands of floral beauty.

Mike likes the palm trees. Most of them have pretty colored lights wrapped around the trunk.

It’s nice, Mike won’t deny the otherworldliness of the beauty, but honestly, he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if you weren’t there.

You bring a certain excitement to the excursion that Mike doesn’t think he can feel on his own.

You ask him if he likes plants, and honestly, he’s never thought about it.

He shrugs says they’re nice, because they are, and they’re starting to remind him of you.

His shirt collar is drenched in sweat by the time you two get to the end of the greenhouse.

He’s self-conscious about the wetness at first, but then he sees your neck.

It makes him want to do other things that would make you sweat.

The garden isn’t that populated right now. He could do it, if you wanted it too.

Lift up your skirt, press his dick against the plush of your ass. He’d nuzzle his nose into the crook of neck, and breathe you in before dragging his tongue along your nape.

He’d grab a fistful of your tits from the front of your dress.

He would take off your panties, but he wouldn’t give them back. He’d keep them in his pocket like a treasured souvenir.

Would you like it? If Mike made you walk around with wetness staining your inner thighs?

Maybe you’d find it demeaning, to be forced to walk around like that, but maybe you wouldn’t.

Mike’s very glad that it’s nighttime, because it’s too dark for you to see the outline of his half-hard dick.

The pathway leads to an outdoor bar.

The counter rests under a gazebo-like structure. Vines curl around the pillars like the lights on the palm trees, and quiet music plays over the chatter of the customers.

The bartender greets you by name.

You introduce the bartender to Mike as Miranda, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s seen her before.

Miranda comments on it before he does. Mike probably wouldn’t have anyway.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, you’re the roommate right?” Miranda asks, and Mike gives her a tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he returns.

“Yeah you too,” she says, “Anyway, is there anything I can get you guys? Completely on the house.”

You get a little wide-eyed at that, “Hey no, it’s okay, we can -“

“- I still owe you for dinner last week, remember? It’s fine. Tequila sunrise?”

You ease into your barstool, a soft, yeah spilling from your lips.

Mike thinks it's cute.

However, Miranda’s attention moves to Mike, and his panic chases away the good feelings.

Mike’s never been to a bar like this before. He’s not sure what to order, he’s not sure how, “uh, what do you have?”

Miranda gestures to the bottles behind her, “I can make anything as long as we have the ingredients. What do you usually drink?”

He doesn’t.

“Do you have anything…” Mike’s cheeks are heating, he can feel it, it’s making him feel dumb, “…non-alcoholic?”

Miranda doesn’t judge his inability to order quickly. It helps.

“Yeah, I can do virgin drinks. What were you thinking?”

God, all these questions. He doesn’t like turning down free shit, but he’s starting to feel tempted to.

“What’s popular?”

“Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris are the most popular virgin drinks, but we also have fountain drinks if that sounds better.”

“Strawberry Daiquiris are good, they’re like slushies.” You interject.

Mike orders a Strawberry Daiquiri.

When Miranda leaves, Mike feels like he can breathe again.

Mike wonders, if you notice the nervousness behind the way he’s crossing his arms, because you smile, and tell him that he looks nice in a button-down.

Miranda returns with free drinks before he can think himself into a hernia.

Abby would like the Strawberry Daiquiri.

For the rest of the night, Miranda makes stops at yours and Mike’s corner of the bar.

Miranda’s presence made Mike uncomfortable at first, because he doesn’t know her, but your friend pulls him into conversations in ways that he doesn’t mind.

It helps that Mike likes how you look at him when Miranda asks him a question.

He likes how you’re paying attention to him, even when your friend is right in front of you.

Miranda comes out from behind the bar when you mention that it’s getting late.

She gives you a hug first, then she shakes Mike's hand.

Her touch makes him think of your palms.

When the two of you get home, it’s just a little past 10 p.m.

Mike wants to thank you, for showing him a place like that, and for spending your evening with him.

He didn’t have to spend the night cooped up, worrying himself into a frenzy, because you brought him out.

The gratitude gets stuck in his throat.

What does he say? Hey, thanks for spending a night around me! Let’s do it again sometime!

Well, sure, he could say that, but he would rather stay quiet.

He doesn’t want to come off too strong, he doesn’t want to give you a peek into the meat of him.

He’s surprised when you say something.

“Thank you for coming out. I had fun.”

The words come out a little awkwardly, like you’re unsure.

Mike’s eyes find yours, and the little smile in the corner of your lips makes him feel better - despite the quiet house.

He licks his lips and offers you a similar small grin, “Yeah, Me too.”

And he means it.

A/N: Although I feel conflicted about this chapter, I’m very thankful for the love you’ve given me on the previous two!

I hope you enjoyed!

#fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #josh hutchinson

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wardenparker · 2 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 2

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Mentions of sick loved ones, mutual pining, personal guilt, relationship turmoil. Summary: After only knowing Marcus for a brief time, you can already feel emotions beginning to build. Will that spell trouble for the relationship you've worked so hard to build with Sam, or will something else altogether begun to sow seeds of doubt? Notes: Once again I'm afraid I have to ask forgiveness in the edit of this chapter. I went away for a few days this week and ever since my chronic illness has been utterly kicking my ass. Hopefully I didn't miss too many errors here.

Game night will probably go down in the year's history as one of the best and most fun times that Marcus has had in a long time. He had laughed until his stomach hurt, his abs aching the next week for at least three days. He's gotten an open invitation back, but he doesn't know if that was a good thing, if he's honest with himself. His attraction to you is something that he's got to get ahold of if he's going to socialize with you more. It seems like everything about you just makes the heavens sing and the sun shine. It's crazy and he hates that, considering you are very happy in a relationship.

Eastern Market is his usual haunt on the weekend, preferring it to a generic grocery store, and he’s lost in thought enough that he doesn’t notice a familiar face at the florist’s stand across the way as he’s walking through the stalls. "Some peaches will be good." Marcus decides, looking through some of the fruits that have been trucked in from warmer states. "Peach smoothies." He decides, walking towards the gorgeous plump peaches on display.

If you were any other person in the world, it would be you who bumped into him and not the Secret Service agent contractually obligated to come along on your errands. As it is, when Agent Bailey defends you from being bumped into by the familiar figure of Marcus Pike, you’re the one who apologizes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, excuse u—Marcus?”

“Oh, hi!” Marcus shakes his head, reaching out and taking your arm. “I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” He apologizes. “Was focused on getting some peaches and didn’t notice anything or anyone, obviously.” He flushes slightly, feeling that pull towards you and hating that he looks like a jerk, or maybe just thoughtless, in front of you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"Not at all." The flowers in your hands and the canvas shopping bags on your arm aren't harmed either, and you find yourself smiling much more brightly than you were even a second ago. "No harm done to me or to Agent Bailey, not to worry. Is it errand day for you, too?"

“Trying to eat healthier.” Marcus admits, slightly upset by the prospect but he figures that just comes with getting older. “Figured the produce here would be better than in a grocery store. Are these for the inn?” He asks, looking at the flowers in your hands and immediately reaches for them. “Let me help.”

"I thought my apartment could use some brightening up." He's seen the organized chaos that you live in and you're not embarrassed by it by any means, but there is a small sting to buying your own flowers just a few days before Valentine's Day. Sam isn't a flowers guy and that's perfectly fine, but you're definitely a flowers girl. When Marcus scoops them up without a second thought and stays by your side, you can feel your cheeks heat up. "I, um—thank you.

“Of course.” He huffs, as if newly made acquaintances should always scoop up flowers from you. “You chose brilliantly. They are gorgeous. Have you already paid for them?”

"Yes, so don't even try." It's just a playful warning that comes with a waggle of your finger, but you really have a feeling that he would try to pay for them if you hadn't.

He grumbles at that slightly. “Well, okay.” It’s almost pathetic that he takes note of what kind of flowers you like and he smirks. “So which flower is your favorite in this?” He asks.

"These," you point out a geometrically fascinating flower with petals that seem to spiral endlessly. "They're called camellias. We called them Winter Roses when I was growing up, but I've always loved them." The intimacy of the question goes straight over your head, just excited to have something pretty to split amongst the small vases in your little space.

“Camellias.” Marcus repeats the flower, filing away the information even though he shouldn’t use it. “They are beautiful.”

"Not everyone has them, so I tend to get my flowers here just to make sure they're in the mix." Barely aware that you're standing in the middle of a bustling market with people trying to move all around you, you have to shake away the warmth settling in you that is definitely not due to any kind of attraction. Nope. Not even a little. Not at all. "You, um..." you gesture to the next stall, where he was originally headed when the collision happened. "Peaches?"

“Peaches? Oh right, peaches.” Marcus laughs at himself and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, I’m – I forgot.” He snorts. “I was thinking about fresh peach smoothies.”

"Ooooo, that sounds incredible." All of a sudden it's the best idea you've heard all day, and you grin mischievously. "It's not exactly standard, but the next time you're craving a sweet after having Indian take out? Make a peach smoothie. It's got that same vibe as a mango lassi but it's slightly sweeter, and it's the most refreshing thing ever."

“I was actually thinking about having Indian tonight.” Marcus admits with a grin. “To reward myself for eating healthier.”

"Best reward in the world." You agree easily. "I told myself I was going to cook tonight and make sure there were leftovers for another day this week, but I am teetering dangerously close to just calling for take-out as well."

"Well..." Marcus almost doesn't offer, because of the fact that you have a boyfriend, but he is truly meaning this as a friendly offer. "If we went to have Indian together, it wouldn't be as bad as ordering it as take out, would it?" He ventures, raising his brows in offer.

You should say no, You should absolutely say no. Not because the invitation is improper in any way — after all, he's a friend. But because of the way your heart bumps and skips at the offer like you hope he means it as more. He doesn't, and that is a good thing. In fact, Marcus and Sam got along fairly well at game night. But you can't help the way your cheeks burn pleasantly. "DuPont Circle?" You ask, confirming that he means he was intending to order from the same place you were. When he nods, you do too. "That sounds really nice."

"This way..." He's immensely happy you are agreeing to come to eat with him. "We can order the samosas and pakoras and not feel any guilt what so ever." He tells you, grinning at you.

"No guilt, but definitely extra time at the gym." His smile is dangerous, but apparently your self-preservation instincts aren't nearly as good as you think they are, because the only alarm bell going off in your head is the one that says Don't Let It Become a Date! which you just brush off. Surely that won't even be a possibility. It can't, because you and Sam have a good thing going. "Although, you're not masochistic enough to have my little brother as your biweekly gym buddy, so your trips are probably far less traumatic than mine," you offer with a laugh.

"Nope." Marcus chuckles. "I just torture myself by running around the Mall during my lunchbreaks instead of spending it in museums or at the food trucks." He snorts. "I just get to smell them just off the Mall."

"Have you lived in DC for three years without doing any of the food trucks out on the Mall?" That might be the most appalling thing you've ever heard in your life, and you nearly drop the peach that you had just picked up to add to your basket.

"Oh no." He laughs at that. "First six months I was here, I fucking lived off food trucks." He admits. "I was undercover and my contact checked in with me through the food trucks."

"Oh, thank God." The both of you laugh as you wipe imaginary sweat of your forehead as though it had made you nervous. "If you had never had Julia's Empanadas, I might have had to drag you down to the Mall right now."

"Then I wouldn't have room for Indian." Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the thought of how many empanadas he would try to fit in his stomach if you went to Julia's Empanadas. "And I'm really craving Indian."

"I am too." Although, now you're going to be thinking about empanadas for ages. Maybe you'll have to try making some. "How has your week been?" Making small talk is easy with him, as you poke through the fruit bins to find peaches, apples, and pears to snack on this week.

"It's been alright." He shrugs slightly. "Depositions for a few upcoming cases. So I've had to revisit case files and work with the district attorney's office to make sure that there aren't any surprises."

"Paperwork and meetings," you nod in understanding. "I get that. Being my own boss is a hell of a lot more paperwork and meetings than I ever thought it would be."

"Ordering supplies, creating events to drum up interest. Balancing budgets." He nods. "I can imagine that it feels like it's hard to get a free moment for yourself."

The way you nod is tired but proud. Every ounce of hard work that you put into that inn is worthwhile, and you do it with straight shoulders and as much determination as you can possibly summon. "Today is my first day off in...two or three weeks? It's...a lot. But it's so worthwhile. And it means that Syd has her place, too. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"So how did you come to have the inn?" Marcus has been curious about that. "Was it always your dream? Or something you fell into?'

"I really, really liked throwing parties when I was younger." That's the easy way to start, as you both move to the line to pay for your bundles of fruit at this particular stall. "That grew up into loving to have guests over all the time. And then dreaming about running a hotel. So I took my sociology and history double major and got a job a hotel in Philly after college, putting myself through a hospitality degree while I started learning the ropes. It was a lot of years of working my way up, but eventually I got hired as the manager for the Inn at Jones Point under the old owners. They were struggling to keep up with new technology and losing clients because of it, and then..." Your eyes flick up to Marcus, almost apologizing for telling him the whole story. "We found out the reason Anita was having so much trouble learning the new technology was early-onset dementia alongside a sizeable brain tumor. I bought the inn from them when they made the decision that a comfortable end to her life was the most important thing they could do. Michael – Anita's husband – he comes around once a week for dinner and to check up on the place now that she's gone. He likes to keep an eye on it for her."

“That’s….” Marcus softens so much at the background story. “Beautiful. You are maintaining their legacy while adapting it to the new realities of time. Weathering time.”

"That farmhouse has been standing since the 1700s. We're just part of its legacy, not the other way around." The pair of you step up to be next in line, with Agent Bailey standing mere feet away managing to look imposing and nonchalant all at once. "The best part is that it could give Sydney her restaurant, and Juan a way to find himself in all the event planning. We didn't know what a team we'd be until we got going and now it's...it's just amazing."

“That’s incredible, and the fact that the place runs so smoothly is a testament to your hard work.” Marcus praises. He’s read some of the reviews and they are all positive, even the ones that had events beyond your control.

“That’s very kind of you.” Kind is an operative word for Marcus. As are sweet, funny, intelli— Nope, stop it, you’re getting dreamy again. Even the momentary distraction of having to pay for fruit is a welcome one if it gets your mind off that track.

Ouch. Kind is such a word that lands him in the friend zone. Which is where he has to be with you, but it still hurts. No longer edgy or cool like he was when he was in his old band. “What else do you need to get?” He asks, swinging his head around at the options available.

“I’m almost done actually.” It didn’t escape you that he flinched slightly when you were trying to be grateful and at least a little complimentary, and suddenly your stomach flips in fear that he might not like spending time with you are much as it seems. Or that you’d done something wrong. “I just wanted to get some fresh bread. But…I don’t know how much more you have to do.”

“Nothing.” He promises, shooting you a grin. “The least I can do is carrying things. Since you are saving me from a night of trying to cook.”

“Never learned to cook or just never got good at it?” There is a difference, after all, and it isn’t about want. Some people find cooking to be an incredible challenge. He gives you a look when you take your parcel of fruit from the vendor and accepts it on your behalf with thanks. Like a damn gentleman, you think with a pant in your chest.

“Never really had the time or the inclination.” He admits. “It’s hard to be enthusiastic about cooking for one, you know what I mean?”

“But that’s when you get to experiment!” Maybe it’s years of being friends with Sydney, whose world revolves around her tastebuds, but cooking has always been an outlet for you. It’s one of the only things you dislike about your apartment —the teeny tiny kitchen. “You can test out new things and weird combinations, and if it’s not great then the only person who knows is you. But if it’s awesome?” You grin up at him like you’re unveiling some kind of ultimate secret. “You become a rockstar at the next office potluck.”

Marcus chuckles. “I’m a rockstar anyway.” He jokes. “I’m the one who brings in the pizza and Chinese for the late nights in the office.”

“Okay, actually, that does count for a lot.” Walking in the direction of the bakery where you get all of your sweet treats and fresh bread, you readjust your shopping bag on your arm and try to glance around the place to survey your surroundings the way Agent Bailey has been teaching you. A comprehensive knowledge of your surroundings, she calls it. “I can’t really cook for my staff much when they have Sydney’s kitchen nearby, but I leave baked goods in the break room from time to time as a thank you. They work so hard.”

“There’s nothing better than snagging a muffin or a cookie when you’re rushing around.” Marcus agrees wisely.

“Or a slice of pizza.” It sounds like he works hard to keep his team in good spirits the same way you do, and you have to commend that in someone who works in such a dour field. Even art crimes — being less violent in nature, according to what you looked up the other night out of sheer curiosity — can’t possible be all sunshine and roses.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Sometimes we have all night surveillance or going through the evidence when something is time sensitive. My teams work better when they are well fed, and know how much they are appreciated.” He shrugs slightly, “everyone could benefit from know that every now and again.”

"Sometimes the weddings we run are just...they're insane. Or last year we had an entire family reunion take over the grounds for four very long days. I can't imagine it's half as stressful as what you deal with but the days can be really long and busy in their own right." For what it's worth, at least, you do love your job. And it's obvious that Marcus feels just as passionately about what he does.

“Oof.” He winces. “I bet the staff wanted to break out a bottle of bubbly when they were checked out.” Marcus jokes, chuckling slightly. “Yeah a lot of people don’t understand that when you love your job, the long hours are worth it.”

"Yeah." A tinge of regret breaks your smile, barely twitching in the corner of your mouth, and you barely nod. He can't possibly know what kind of a nerve he's hit — hell, you barely know yourself and you're the one feeling it. It just...it stings.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks, immediately concerned when your smile seems almost sad.

"No." You reassure him much too quickly, and flinch in your own right when he looks skeptical. "It's just...not everyone thinks what I do is as worthwhile as, say, something like what you do. A—and that makes sense. Running an inn and upholding the law are—they're not the same. I'm not saying they are. It's just...that important to me. That's all."

“Whoever believes that is wrong.” Marcus insists wholeheartedly. “Running an inn is absolutely crucial. Maybe not to everyone, but to the people who need a little escape, a retreat to relax and revive themselves, your inn is a haven to them.” He is speaking passionately because he believes it. “When I’m out of town on a case, I hope that I can book a little inn. Something more personable than a Holiday Inn, so when I come back, it’s like a little slice of home.”

“I appreciate that. Really. It’s—I guess it’s a sore spot at the moment and I didn’t realize it. That’s all.” And you are absolutely not going to allow yourself to indulge in the image of Marcus coming back to the inn for you. Your place is not his ‘ little slice of home’. Even if you’re wondering what the would feel like if it was real.

“Well, you can always gripe and complain if you need to.” He promises.

“No, that’s—that’s not it.” It’s a little embarrassing, if you’re honest, but that’s only because you’re fighting being attracted to the man beside you. Otherwise you would just be chatting to a friend. “I just…don’t get to spend as much time with Sam as he would like. That’s all. Because we both have busy jobs.”

Marcus winces. “With the job he has, it would be hard unless you didn’t work.” He murmurs quietly. “But what counts is that you make the time you do have together special.”

“That’s what I said. Making the most of our time it’s what is most important.” The topic had come up again in conversation when you and Sam had talked about next steps — through the odd avenue of discussing your commute. His house to the inn isn’t a prohibitive drive, but it will warrant either having a lot of work done on your car or getting an upgrade. Right now you have no commute whatsoever, so you’re barely using your car outside of town.

“My favorite thing to do with my ex-wife was to curl up and watch a movie.” He admits. “Or work on a crossword together.”

“Those…” You laugh quietly, almost self-consciously, and shrug with the air of someone who is just about to give up. “Are the things I do with my good friend Agent Bailey, here. Though she kicks my ass at the Times Sunday crossword every single week.”

He rolls his eyes at himself. “I know it’s an old person’s activity, but I was normally exhausted from the academy.”

“Don’t you dare besmirch the Times Crossword.” A waggles finger and disapproving tsk seems to amuse him and it makes you smile, too. “That’s a mandatory topic of conversation at my mother’s dinner table.”

“Your mother enjoys the Times Crossword?” He asks, grinning at you. “She would get along with my parents. They have two subscriptions just so they can each do their own.”

“I’m keeping that in mind for Dad’s birthday this year.” It’s a brilliant idea. They would love to make a competition of it. It would be the highlight of their week.

“My parents got it as a wedding present and they enjoyed it so much, they kept it.” He tells you, smiling fondly at the memory of the two of them arguing playfully over their crosswords.

“That’s incredibly sweet.” There is a crowd at the bakery, as to be expected, so you and Marcus step into line to wait your turn. “I love the idea of being able to share small things with your partner. They’re every bit as important as the grand gestures, if not more.”

“Sometimes the smaller gestures are the most meaningful.” He admits with a grin. “I love cherry Danishes, and so did my ex. We would find these combo boxes of assorted and she would get the cherry one.”

“Giving up your favorite Danish flavor is not small.” An attempt at lightening the already light and sweet conversation is maybe…just trying to keep your own mind off of things. But that somehow doesn’t keep you from admitting the truth before you can stop yourself. “I have yet to meet the man I would give up my lemon poppyseed muffin for.”

“That’s only because you’ve never traded for a raspberry crumble muffin.” Marcus vows, smirking at the way you look stingy, even though he knows for a fact you aren’t.

“You’re on, Pike.” The smirk on his lips spreads to yours as effortlessly as breathing. “But lemon poppyseed is pretty impossible to unseat.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had a raspberry crumble then.” He huffs, looking offended at the idea. “But I don’t think this place has them. I get them from a little bakery near the Bureau. I’ll have to bring you one.”

“I’ll get you a lemon poppyseed from the coffeeshop I go to in Old Town.” Even as its coming out of your mouth you know it sounds like flirting, but the fact is that you just feel so naturally comfortable with him. There is nothing flirtatious about muffins, you tell yourself. Nothing at all. “We can compare notes.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.” Marcus is extremely happy that you would like to make plans with him, any plans. Even if it’s just a friendly wager. “I’ll get the raspberry crumble. I say we each get two. And if you like the other one so much, you have to give up both.”

“Deal.” You put your hand out to him, willing to make a friendly bet on almost anything. That’s gotten you and your brother in trouble before, but this is harmless.

Marcus grins as he takes your hand, imagining that lightning bolts are shooting up his hand. Winking, he laughs, “just don’t be disappointed when you break that little rule of yours for me.” He boasts.

“We’ll see.” The tone of the thing really tries for teasing, but you end up so taken aback by the electricity in shaking his hand that you fluster — which is only compounded when you end up next in line and completely forget the word for ‘sourdough’ in the process.

“I, uh, I want-“ you seem completely out of it, and the bored looking boy behind the counter seems to be getting annoyed with you. “Can we have just a second?” Marcus asks, pulling you back and allowing another couple to go ahead of the two of you. “I’ve completely forgotten what I wanted.” He takes the blame, not wanting to embarrass you.

“Bread?” You manage to supply, feeling like a world class idiot for clamming up on something so routine. If being around him is going to be this big of a problem, you need to get yourself in order.

“Yeah, bread.” He nods, wrinkling his nose slightly. “What’s that type that I like?”

At this point he could mean him or he could mean you, or he could even just be speaking in theoreticals, but you have you head in straight enough again to blow out a breath and remember yourself. “Sourdough. I forgot the damn word for sourdough.”

“Thats it.” He snaps his fingers and looks back at the boy. “Could we get some sourdough bread?”

“Sure.” The kid looks at the both of you like you’ve gone insane but turns around to bag a loaf of freshly baked bread without a second thought for his strange customers.

Marcus pays for the bread, even with you huffing beside him and guides you towards the clearing. “That wasn’t that bad.”

“Only because you saved me from sputtering like an idiot.” It’s beside the point that he is also the reason you were sputtering in the first place. That doesn’t matter. It’s the fact that you couldn’t keep it together that bothers you. “Thanks for that.”

“Not at all.” He waves off your thanks. “Everyone has those moments.” He promises, smiling at you.

There is such a moment of relief when you exhale again that you have to make light of it or else you’re in danger of feeling far more grateful than is probably necessary, and that makes your chest ache in a dull and insistent kind of way. “That’s either very sweet of you or a complete placation, but either way I appreciate it.”

“No placation, I promise.” He crosses his finger over his heart and smiles at you. “Anywhere else?”

“That was the last thing for me.” Even though you have plans to have dinner with him that night you still can’t help feeling a little disappointed that the impromptu shopping trip has come to an end. “Unless you needed something else?”

“Well…” Marcus looks around, not wanting to let you leave just yet. “Maybe I could find a plant to kill?” He asks. “Something to brighten up my place?”

"Bit of a black thumb?" The excuse to not say goodbye yet is welcome, and you end up smiling more broadly than you mean to. "Let's see what we can do about that."

“More that I forget to set up someone to water my plants when I go out of town and they die miserable, thirsty deaths while I’m away.” He flashes you a guilty grin. “I’m a murderer.”

“Very rude of you to do to your plants.” The wholesome, straight-faced nod that you cry for cracks on a giggle, though, and you nod in the direction of an entirely different florist stand than the one you were at before. “What you need is a succulent.”

“That sounds a little dirty.” Marcus admits, not even realizes how flirtatious that sounds.

It does. And you didn’t mean for it to. You were just talking about the type of plant he could get. But then there’s that grin on his face and it’s so fucking puckish and * handsome* that you practically groan about how unfair the whole damn thing is. “Whoops?” You offer, obviously not apologetic in the least.

He snorts and winks at you again. “I don’t mind. Sometimes being a little dirty is a good thing.” It’s borderline inappropriate, so Marcus doesn’t say anything else.

“Sometimes it’s the fun of an otherwise boring day.” But since you’re genuinely afraid you might say too much if you go ahead with this line of thought, and since Agent Bailey is steadily avoiding your eyes like an older sister trying not to bear witness to your trouble making, you clear your throat and change the subject. “I think I snake plant would work for you. They’re really easy to care for and great for beginners or busy people.”

Marcus takes your lead and nods seriously. “I’ll take some advice. Any advice.” He shrugs slightly. “I wish I had the time for pets, but I don’t and it’s wrong to do that to them.”

“If I could have a dog, I would have a little corgi or a Yorkie in a heartbeat.” It comes with an almost wistful sigh, but you feel the same way he does. It would be cruel to the animal you’re supposed to be taking care of. “But since I have no concept of work-life balance? I have plants.”

“I’ll start with plants.” Marcus huffs. “If I can keep one alive? Maybe I’ll move on to cats? They are low maintenance.”

“Cats are fantastic. Sydney and Anna Leigh always had a couple when we were growing up and they can’t be the sweetest animals in the world.” There is a florist that specializes in succulents and potted plants further into the market and you head that way, chatting as you go. “I just always said I would want my kids to grow up with a puppy.”

“Puppy, a swing set in the yard and dinner together.” Marcus adds wistfully, having his own version of that same dream. “Every kid needs a puppy pal.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” And the knot in your stomach tells you that that isn’t a coincidence — that the future you’ve dreamt about probably lines up with the one he wants in so many different ways.

“We had my dog for nearly twenty years.” Marcus tells you. “He was my best friend and the best soul I’ve ever met.”

“I got Alex instead of a dog,” you giggle, silliness tinging the edge of his sweet nostalgia. “My little brother.”

“Isn’t a younger brother the same thing?” He asks with a grin.

“Very much so. And Alex is as much Golden Retriever as he is human.” If he were here, he’d give you so much grief for that comparison, but you stand by it. “What kind of dog did you have?”

Marcus chuckles. “A golden retriever.” He tells you without skipping a beat. “I’ve got a picture of him, wanna see?”

“Absolutely!” They say you’re either a kid person or a dog person, but you’re definitely both. Anything cute and squishy is right up your alley.

Digging out his wallet, it might be a little old fashioned to carry a physical photo of the favorite family pet, but he likes looking at it sometimes. He’s holding his dog, Hansel, in the picture. The white around the dog’s snout indicative of the older age of the golden retriever. “Here he is. Hansel.”

“What an angel!” If you could jump right through the photo and squeeze his beautiful face you would — the only problem is that you don’t know if you mean young Marcus or the dog.

“Wasn’t he?” Marcus hums happily. “He slept in my room growing up. Hated me leaving for college, although I hated being apart from him too.”

"How could you possibly leave that face? Look at him!" Yeah, it's definitely the dog that you're talking about. At least right now.

“Yeah.” He smiles down at the photo, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the canine face with happy memories flooding through him. “He was the best.”

"So would you want another Golden Retriever?" Looking between him and the photo, you think you might be able to guess the answer yourself. "Or will no other Golden ever live up to him?"

“Probably not.” Marcus shrugs. “He was from a litter of puppies at the shelter. It was just a coincidence that he was a pure Golden.” He frowns slightly. “I would want to adopt. It’s the best way to give a loving home to an animal.”

"Adopting is the only way." On that, you can firmly agree. But you point to the florist stand up ahead and touch his arm gently in an unconscious moment of casual comfort. "First, let's get you a plant to adopt."

“Yes, I would prefer adopted over nursery grown.” Marcus jokes, trying to ignore how easy it is to be with you. You can just be a friend. It’s possible and it’s possible he’s lying to himself.

"Wild, orphaned plants wandering the lonely roads with all their belongings tied up in a little bandana on a stick," you tease, conjuring the image of a cartoon orphan as best you can. To the girl behind the counter, you turn your full attention and the best conspiratorial smile you can conjure. "We're looking for something he'll have trouble killing," you confide with a chuckle. "Something like a snake plant, maybe? Or if you have a better recommendation we're all ears."

“It’s best to start them out with a plant before having pets or kids, isn’t it?” She asks with a grin, eyeing Marcus in amusement. “But he seems like the trustworthy type to me.”

"A fine, upstanding citizen if ever I saw one." The smirk you offer her is playful, and you glance up at Marcus beside you. "Plus, I'll be keeping an eye on the situation. For the good of the adoptee, of course."

“Of course.” She nods seriously, even though there is a definitely shaking to her voice, like she’s holding back laughter. “Let me show you the best options for a recovering black thumb.”

It's several minutes of back and forth with the florist who parries your playful banter well, and you end up leaving her stand with not just a lovely potted snake plant for Marcus, but an identical one for your apartment as well. "I had to!" You coo, when Marcus laughs at the little plant that you're cradling like a newborn. "It's so precious! And they're twins! I couldn't just leave it abandoned."

“Well, we have to name them.” Marcus decides. “Twin names.” He grins at you, “what do you think?”

"Luke and Leia," you joke right away, because that will always be the first pair of twins you think of in any situation. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Oh, do the creepy girls from The Shining have names?"

Considering The Shining was his first foray into horror when he was younger, it was also one of his favorites. "No, they were just called Grady Daughters one and two." He tells you. "But..." He whips out his phone. "They are Lisa and Louise Burns, in real life."

“So are the plants Grady and Burns, or Lisa and Louise?” Either way they’re exceedingly silly choices, and you’re going for it.

“Either one works for me.” Marcus laughs. “It depends on if the plants are male or female.” He jokes.

“I think we probably get to pick,” you joke right back, making a show of rolling your eyes at him even though you’re laughing.

“Hmmmmm.” He pretends to take a closer look at his plant. “I’m going to surprise you.” He decides. “My plant is female.”

“Oh, that’s no surprise to me.” The smirk you shoot back at him is probably the lightest and most carefree you r felt in ages, and just for the moment you’re not going to second guess it. You’re just going to revel in the moment. “All my plants are female.”

He snickers with you and then tilts his head. “Lisa or Louise for you?” He asks, before he answers. “I bet you want the name Louise. You’ll pretend it’s for Thelma and Louise.”

“I—how—” Staring at him in utter confusion does not help matters one bit, but you still don’t have any clue as to how he could possibly have guessed that about you after only having met you two whole times. “So?” You ask after a second, realizing you’re laughing with the absurdity.

You have the most beautiful laughs Marcus has ever heard, and he loves that he caused it. There’s a flash of guilt that comes with the thought and he decides to reel it back into the scope of reality. You are becoming a friend, nothing more. “Who wouldn’t?” He asks, still chuckling. “They were the greatest female duo in modern cinema. In my opinion.”

“They line up against Idgie and Ruth from Fried Green Tomatoes.” You’ll stand by that pairing until the day you die, but the way warmth is spreading through your chest and your fingers ache dully from wanting to reach out for him is a special, damning sort of agony. “And I will die on that hill.”

“I had completely forgotten about Idgie and Ruth.” He admits, hanging his head in shame. “Forgive me.”

“Just this once.” There is still a teasing grin on your face when your phone goes off in your pocket. Sam’s name splashed across your caller ID and guilt crawls through your veins immediately. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, glancing up at Marcus. “Just give me one second.”

Marcus catches a glimpse of the name and it’s like he’s doused with cold water. “Of course.” He murmurs politely, turning towards a little book stand to give you some privacy, beating himself up for flirting with another man’s significant other.

“Hey honey.” The second you pick up the phone with a plant in your other arm and your groceries weighing on your shoulder, that is the second you feel most self-conscious.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice comes over the line and he has a straightforward attitude, jumping into the reason for his call. “I’ve had a dinner invite tonight, some potential donors.” He tells you. “Can you make it?”

“I—” It’s not like it’s an unusual request. If he has a work event tonight then the best possible person he can have at his side is you. The idea of having dinner with Marcus had been so uplifting, and now cancelling on him makes you feel awful. But this is your boyfriend. “Yeah. Yeah, I can make it. Where and when? Is there a dress code?”

Sam rattles off the address and dress code. “Thanks honey, I knew I could count on you.” He tells you before he murmurs to someone else. “Hey, I’ve got to go, I love you.” The line clicks off immediately.

“I love you too.” It’s said to the silence, and you look down at your phone for a moment before pocketing it again. Marcus has stepped away to give you privacy, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other before walking back over to him. “I’m really sorry,” you murmur, actually looking as apologetic as you feel. “Can we postpone dinner tonight?”

“Oh….yeah, of course.” He hates the way the feels rejected, but you have priorities, ones that aren’t him. “That’s no problem at all.” He nods quickly and looks around. “Well, we should probably get your things to your car, right?”

“I—I’m really sorry.” Repeating it just makes you feel worse. But both of you feel worse, unbeknownst to you, and you walk in the direction of your car with Agent Bailey her usual two steps behind. “Something came up.”

“Not a problem at all.” Marcus promises you, plastering on a smile as you turn to him at your car. “I understand. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of things come up.”

"It was really nice to run into you today." There is no word of a lie or even exaggeration in that, and you take your flowers from Marcus's arms carefully, loading it into the backseat with your other bags and Louise the snake plant.

“Yeah, it was nice seeing you. Marcus holds up his plant. “Thanks for the help.” He hums. “Hopefully I won’t kill Thelma.”

"If you do, try to make it as spectacular as possible." Offering him a half smile, you realize that you just wish you could give him a big hug, but that would be totally out of line. So instead all you can think to do is shift your weight awkwardly again before opening your car door. "I'll see you around, Marcus."

“See ya.” He nods and turns around to walk to his car. He doesn’t turn around, knowing that it would look weird if he did.

Once you’re in the car with Agent Bailey and focused on getting back home to put everything away and make a cup of coffee before you have to start getting ready for the night, you sigh softly and sit back in your seat. You can feel the curiosity of the Secret Service agent beside you and you wonder if you look as guilty as you. “That was a nice surprise.”

“Yes.” Agent Bailey hums. “Special Agent Pike was quite a surprise.”

“He’s nice,” you defend, very aware that you’re defending yourself and not him.

“He’s very nice.” She agrees. “And exactly who he says he is.” Of course a background check had been done on the agent, which she was glad of now that he had popped back up on radar. Not quite sure what to make of the interaction at the market, it’s also not her place to judge it.

"Well, that's a comfort." The drive back to Alexandria won't take long, but you twist your hands around the steering wheel a few times before pulling out into traffic. "Unfortunately, tonight will be the opposite," you tell her with a dramatic sigh that cushions the blow of having to attend an impromptu event. "Sam asked me to come to a dinner party tonight. Last minute invitation, I guess somebody had a seat they needed filled and asked him."

“I see.” Now she has to find out where you are going to be, who is on the guest least and it means overtime tonight. She doesn’t sigh, but she wants to, much preferring to go to small Indian restaurant over some political function. “I’m sure it will be a lovely evening.”

"I know you have to vet everything." The process seems exhausting, but you would never question the agent's ability to get her job done. "It's a private party at Arthur Connesby's house. The aerospace tech guy? Apparently it's a party for his wife, but everybody invited are Sam's constituents. I have a feeling they're going to spend the night trying to pitch their own interests to him, but if nothing else they might donate to his next campaign if they feel like they got to be friendly with him." It sounds like it will be a fairly boring night of overly rich old men feeling self-important, but Sam asked you to be there and that's why you're going.

“Noted.” The agent is immediately firing off a text to her support team, letting them know about the change of plans tonight.

"I know it's not what we had in mind." The night has gone from staying home and watching a movie and maybe playing cards, to dinner out, to an entire party. It's a lot of jumps in not much time. "And I appreciate you being flexible. Truly."

“It’s my job to protect you no matter what.” She reminds you softly. She enjoys you, has gotten to know you and thinks you are lovely, but you are Hummingbird to her. The First Daughter of the President of the United States and her assignment. She would guard you regardless of what you were doing because it’s her job.

"Right." You nod slightly, eyes cast back out on the road, and try not to slump even a little as you drive. It's not necessary to be everyone's best friend. You know that on a practical level. Right now your energy is better served focusing on the night ahead. "Well, I can still be grateful. So thank you. For...being professional. An very good at your job."

She knows that you are disappointed, but one of the cardinal rules of the secret service is to not be emotionally attached to your assignment. It would be too difficult to make life or death decisions. “Protecting you has been my pleasure.” She promises.

"I appreciate that." For better or for worse, the Secret Service will be a part of your life for the rest of your life. So if you can't be friends, at least you can appreciate each other. For now, though, you ought to focus. A party with your boyfriend's constituents is no place to have your mind wander.

The dinner party is exactly what you imagined it would be. Self important people, boasting about how important they are as they fawn over ‘more’ important people. Or the people who could give them access to the power they wished to have. Sam was in his element, smiling and shaking hands. Listening to ideas with a feigned interest that comes naturally to politicians.

He's charismatic enough to keep their attention but has enough of his own heart left that he does seem to care about issues being brought to him. Unfortunately for these folks, they're talking about a whole lot of things that just one man can't change on their behalf. So all he can really do is listen and express interest in whatever plight it is they have.

You have found yourself in the rather unfortunate position of being inundated by the significant others of these men, and when the party turns to mingling after dinner they somehow manage to whisk you away to the garden where you aren't sure if they're planning on trying to get you to dance with various people, or maybe join their country clubs, You really can't tell which.

“You must tell me, how is living in the White House?” One asks you, under the impression that you are still living with your mother.

“I understand it’s very comfortable.” It’s almost a relief that these women seem not to know a thing about you beside who your mother is. Your greatest fear about the whole thing was being hounded through every day of your life — so far that hasn’t been the case. But it’s been barely more than a month. There’s time. “However, I chose not to reside there.”

“Oh, what a shame.” She hums, wondering why you wouldn’t want to call the most famous house in America home. “I hear that it’s haunted.”

“That is what they say.” And according to your little sister, it’s absolutely true. But an upscale party of relatively stuffy guests like this doesn’t seem like the place to spout tales of your sister taking her homework to the Lincoln bedroom. “And it’s certainly very beautiful.”

“I would love to take a tour sometime.” She tells you, hoping that you might offer to set it up for her. An intimate tour would be amazing.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” You aren’t the sort of person who would exchange favors, so the thought that this could mean a donation for Sam’s campaign in the near future. Instead, you just know it would be something nice. “I can have something put together for you if you like?”

“That would be lovely!” She exclaimed, sending you a warm smile. “You know, you and the congressman make a beautiful couple. Possibly even presidential one day.” It’s a fishing expedition, feeling you out for your thoughts on a possible run.

"Possibly." And two weeks ago, you might have beamed at that implication. At the idea of Sam moving through his career with such gusto and motivation that he makes it all the way to the White House. But seeing what your father contends with as First Gentleman, the idea of being First Lady sounds overwhelming to you. It's even less likely that you would end up in politics yourself. "Sam takes his work very seriously, and he has high hopes for the future of our country."

“And what about you?” She asks. “You made waves, positive ones in my opinion, during your mother’s campaign about your stance on soulmates.”

"I don't have any political ambitions for myself." Of that, you can absolutely assure her. "While I'm more than happy to support the people around me, I'm very happy with my own career."

“At least until Congressman Chase makes an honest woman out of you.” She hums. “Then it’s so hard to balance your own career while supporting the ambitions of your husband.” There’s a rueful chuckle on her part. “Believe me, I know.”

"I won't be giving up my career." This is always a topic of conversation amongst significant others, you've found, and a topic that your father has contended with on multiple occasions. As your mother's career grew, he became a stay-at-home-dad and raised three kids. Because it was something he wanted to do, not because it was forced on him. And that has always been the key to you. "I own a business. So it's essentially my first child already."

“Oh?” Her brows wing up in surprise. “My apologies. I must have misunderstood.” Her eyes slide past you. “Excuse me, I must go catch Mrs. Jackson before she leaves.” She cuts off the conversation and hustles away.

It's a bit on and definitely abrupt, but the conversation wasn't very enjoyable to begin with so you smile politely and just let it roll off your back. Whatever she 'misunderstood' doesn't really concern you. Some gossip article must have speculated on the next steps of your relationship with Sam and you try not to let that kind of nonsense get to you.

“Having fun?” Sam comes up to you, his hand slipping around your waist and he presses a kiss to your cheek. “You look amazing, especially since it was so last minute.”

"You always like this dress." The first time you wore it was the nominating party after the Democratic National Convention, and then again to a fundraiser in Chicago. That was the night you met Sam, and he had remarked even then that the dress was particularly beautiful. It seemed like the logical choice for tonight based on that alone. "It's a nice party." The food was predictable but tasty, and the drinks are flowing, just like the way you expected the night to go. "Do we think there will be birthday cake?" You ask conspiratorially, looking up at him beside you with a smirk. "Is that something people still do for fancy fiftieth birthdays?"

“Cake is universal.” Sam snorts and nods. “I have it on good authority the cake is a chocolate raspberry mascarpone cream cake.” He tells you, knowing it will be an idea you carry back to Sydney.

"I know exactly what Saturday's dessert special is going to be." Somehow your best friend will turn a classic cake into something elegant and thoughtful, and you know the entire restaurant will go nuts for it. They always do, when Sydney gets to show off. "Are you having a good night? I know you had high hopes for networking tonight."

“It’s going well.” He hums happily and beams at you. “How about you? Working the other side for me?” He teases playfully, aware you don’t usually like campaigning.

"Nothing that will get me in trouble with my Mom's staff." Not that he would ever ask you to do anything like that. Sam doesn't go in for most of the entitled bullshit that other politicians do. "One request for a White House tour that I'll put through the appropriate channels. Nothing too odd."

“Interesting.” Sam looks thoughtful. “Who asked for that?”

"Shelly D'Amario." The wife of District Attorney-turned-Superior Court Judge Raymond D'Amario was one of the few people you had recognized from press coverage of events supporting your mother's campaign. Her husband's politics were lined up with most moderate Democrats, and he tended to hand down verdicts with thoughtful conclusions at the end of each case. He's one of those people you wouldn't have minded at all sitting at this dinner party with, but unfortunately the Judge was not able to attend.

“Oh.” Sam nods. “I was at another dinner with her and the judge just the other night.” He tells you. “Picking his brain about Constitutional law.”

“She was very nice.” Though instinct takes over, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second before going on. “Did you guys talk…about me at all? About us, I mean? At your dinner?”

“Well, naturally you came up.” Sam admits with a slight frown, wondering if Shelly had somehow insulted you. “Not everyone is dating the daughter of the current sitting President. But I didn’t share any private details about you.” He promises. “Or your family.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that.” If he was the sort of person who went around sharing personal details with anyone and everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to trust him. Especially not under the condition you met in. Campaigns are cutthroat. “She just…said something that kind of confused me, that’s all.”

“What confused you?” He asks, trying to recall the exact details of the dinner with the judge and his wife.

Without wanting to imply that he might have said anything, you still glance around you to make sure that Agent Bailey is the only one close enough by to overhear you. “She seemed to be under the impression that I would be quitting my job if we ever have a family. And when I said that wasn’t the case, she said she must have ‘misunderstood’ something and walked away immediately.”

Understand dawns in his eyes and Sam shifts slightly. “Well, that’s not something we’ve talked about just yet.” He reminds you. “That’s a conversation we need to have.”

"Right." You couldn't agree more. "Which is why I was confused that she seemed to have heard an opinion about it somewhere before. But it was probably just some gossip article."

He hesitates and then decides to come clean, you don’t like liars. “I might have voice my hopes for our future.” He admits. “It’s not so unexpected, is it?” He asks. “I’ll be spending a lot of time at different events and I will want you by my side.”

"Sam..." There's disappointment in your voice that you don't bother to hide. Of course he's absolutely entitled to talk about hopes, as he puts it, but you can't believe that he would ever think you would give up the inn. "I own the place, honey. It's not like taking a smaller role in an office or shifting to part time somewhere."

“Yes, you own it.” Sam stresses. “But you can have someone else manage it.”

"But I don't want to have someone else manage it." It's really like you can't believe your ears. Sam has never voiced anything like this before within the dynamic of your relationship and he knows very well how proud you are of your work at the inn and how much it means to you.

By the set of your jaw and the frown on your face, Sam knows that he can’t argue the point right now. He shakes his head, smiling at you and taking your hand. “You’re right. I—I wasn’t thinking about how much you love your inn.” He admits softly. “Let’s just forget about it, hm?”

"O—okay." There he is again. Your understanding, supportive Sam smiling at you and taking the stress out of the situation. The man you started dating almost a year ago. Dependable. "Okay."

“Good.” He pats your hand gently and leans in to kiss you softly. “But I do still want to talk about moving in together.”

"After our date on Tuesday?" The Valentine's night you had settled on together is dinner at a small, family-owned restaurant in his hometown followed by a fundraiser screening of short films made by local high schoolers looking to update their school's resources with the proceeds. Community-oriented is the theme of the night.

“That sounds appropriate.” He agrees with a nod. “For now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the evening.” He looks towards your secret service agent. “Will you be allowed to come to my place tonight?”

"I think that can be arranged." The invitation means you'll be sleeping over at his place twice this week, which is definitely more than you've been able to do lately and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you just need to refocus yourself. And stop thinking about Marcus, for fuck's sake. You slip your arm around Sam's waist and lean into his side. "I just have to let Bailey know. Her relief agent will have to be told to go to your place instead of mine."

"Of course." Even though it irritates him, he nods. Understanding that you cannot help it right now. After your mother's term, perhaps you will decline protection.

"I know it isn't perfect." He's bristled about lack of privacy before, and though you can't say that you really blame him? There's nothing you can do about it. Secret Service protect for the President's immediate family is mandatory. And hell, you have a Secret Service agent in your apartment every night. At least when you stay with Sam, your agent usually stays in the living room or their car like a stakeout. It's typically left up to them. But still, you do understand the objection. "I'm sorry. It is what it is."

"I know." He sighs softly, hating that the evening has been sidetracked from what he imagined. "I understand. I just don't like them be so close when we are alone." He admits.

"I know." The last five minutes have become increasingly uncomfortable, but you still stick close to Sam and continue smiling, aware that eyes at the party might be on you just like they are anytime you go anywhere outside of your little haven at the inn. "But better that, than someone breaking into your house."

He doesn't point out that he has a security system and his townhouse is in a gate community. There's no point and it would just further cause an discussion that is best left for the relative privacy of his bedroom - with a secret service agent parked outside in his living room. He sighs. "Shall we get more wine?" He asks, trying to change the subject.

"Sure." There are people starting to dance to the music being piped through outdoor speakers, but you're not really in a dancing mood. There's too much swirling around in your mind to be light on your feet. "Wine sounds like a good plan."

Sam leads you over to the bar, ever the gentleman and stands beside you to look at the drink selections. "They have a nice pinot grigio." He murmurs softly.

"Is that what you want too?" The bar is open, of course, but the catering company has allowed the bartender to put out a small and discreet tip jar for the reasonably large party tonight, and you have a few more bills in your purse that you're happy to add to the jar.

"I think I'm going to stick with the pinot noir." He tells you, holding up his almost empty glass.

You order both glasses without hesitation and tip the very pleasant bartender, handing Sam his glass after it's put on the bar top. Just something nice to get the night back on track. At least as far as the two of you go.

"So I think that we should drink our wine and then dance." Sam suggests. It would be a good visual and romantic as a bonus. He's not calculating, but he does understand that optics are important in politics. It's a good opportunity to romance you and look good for the discreet photographers that are roaming around.

"And at some point, eat cake." Trying to lighten the mood a little is really your go-to for diffusing tension in any situation, and the air around the two of you feels a little thick, so you offer him a big smile instead of getting serious again.

"Eating cake is always a good way to spend a night." Sam agrees, smiling back at you.

"Morning." You haul yourself into the restaurant's kitchen the next morning when you arrive bright and early for your eight-a.m. start time looking vaguely less drowsy than usual. The other member of your Secret Service detail — Agent Sisson — has music taste more in line with yours and you'd listened to Duran Duran on your way back to town this morning. That and a cup of strong coffee means that you're feeling okay but definitely in need of breakfast.

“Wellllllll,” Sydney’s grin is bright as she eyes you. “I see the walk of shame has taken on a festive air.” She teases, laughing as she moves over to pour you a cup of coffee. “I take it last night went well?”

“I have enough time to go upstairs and change before work,” you grumble, though you’re smiling and accept the cup of coffee gratefully. “Usual boring party, but I bring you home a new cake flavor combination to try, and it was nice to see Sam.”

She snorts. “Nice to see Sam.” She mimics. “It’s like you ran into him in the store.” She huffs at you. “This is your boyfriend. The man you love.”

“And that’s why it’s nice to see him more than just one measly night a week.” Given that you have a few minutes, you hop up on a stool at the counter beside her work station and groan in appreciation at the slice of sweet Italian brioche and carefully cut piece of frittata she plates up for you without hesitation. “Oh my god, thank you. All I’ve had so far is coffee. We overslept and both had to run out to get to work on time.”

“Overslept…” she rolls her eyes and rubs her stomach. “I wish I could remember what that was like.” She grumbles. “This one is giving me heartburn all the time and keeping my sleep short.”

“They just really want to make sure you remember they’re there,” you tease, picking up a forkful of frittata and not even caring what’s inside. Everything Syd makes it incredible. “Twenty-seven whole more weeks of this, Mama. Get excited!”

“I am, I promise. But the kid can let me sleep in a little, right?” She huffs playfully. “So how was the dinner? You came back from the market in a hurry so I didn’t get to talk to you. Did you forget about this or was it last minute?”

“It was last minute. He got a spontaneous invitation to a potential supporter’s wife’s birthday party.” Oh my god, spinach and artichoke frittata, so fucking good. “She got the gift of bragging rights that a Congressman and the First Daughter came to her party, and a very nice bottle of champagne.”

“Sounds like a ton of fun.” Sydney likes hobnobbing even less than you do, preferring to be on the service side of fancy events. “So you ate mildly bland catered food and drank way too much wine?”

“Exactly. Which is why this tastes even more incredible than usual.” You point at your plate even while scooping up another bite. “So did you and Juanito ever decide what you’re doing tomorrow? I know you scheduled yourself for the dinner rush, but you’ve got to do something.”

“My husband is amazing.” She promises, beaming in delight. “He actually got us reservations at St. Regis for the Valentine’s Day Afternoon Tea.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! It’s so utterly romantic I could barf.” The momentary flash of jealousy is nothing, and you’re genuinely happy that they’ll be able to get out and do something. They work so incredibly hard and never complain for a second. “It’s perfect, Syd. I want a full report.”

“I’m excited.” She admits, biting her lip and fiddling with her practical silicone wedding band that she wears in the kitchen. “I’ve also been promised a very relaxing massage and a few orgasms.”

“All things which you deserve very much.” You raise your coffee cup in salute to her and grin.

“At the very least.” She huffs, her own grin one of pure happiness. “I am growing Badillo’s baby.” She reminds you, as if it isn’t common knowledge at this point. She’s so proud of being with her soulmate and she cock her head at you curiously. “Have you given any more thought to that tattoo?” She pries gently.

“Yes and no…” It’s much more yes than no, if you’re honest with yourself, but the fact is that it’s probably not good to think about it as much as you have. It’s like a never-ending loop in your mind and you absolutely can’t shake it. “I just don’t know what good it would do to bring it up. Or who I would even bring it up to.”

“You know who you should bring it up to.” She huffs.

“Who?” You challenge, feeling like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place without doing so much as being awake this morning. “My boyfriend of almost a year who asked me to move in with him and wants to start planning our future? Or the guy I barely know who invited me to dinner yesterday when I ran into him at Eastern Market and looked so hurt when I had to ask him to reschedule that I still feel like I kicked the world’s cutest puppy?” Clearly it’s been on your mind, and Syd is really the one person you can talk to about any of it. But admitting that you’ve been thinking about Marcus feels like cheating and you have always despised cheaters deeply. Being cheated on will do that to a person.

“You ran into Marcus?” Her eyes widen with the new information and she immediately sets down her spoon and walks around the counter to hug you. “Oh honey, talk to me. What happened?” She asks softly. While she might be pushing you to at least ask if you might be soulmates, she doesn’t want you to be upset.

“It wasn’t a big deal…we ran into each other and we finished our shopping together.” It’s such a relief to have a space to talk about it, and yet you know you’re blowing it out of proportion in your head. It was just a coincidence that you ran into him. Not fate. “We were both talking about wanting Indian for dinner so he asked if I wanted to go to the restaurant with him. We were just going to hang out. Then Sam called.”

“And of course you said yes to Sam.” Sydney doesn’t exactly approve of the way Sam seems to think that you wait for his call and will drop everything to accommodate him, but she doesn’t say anything. “How did Marcus take the change of plans?”

“He said he understood and that it was fine.” Which is, technically, what happened. So when you shift your eyes away from hers, Sydney makes a noise and you cave. “He seemed disappointed,” you admit, throwing up your hands. “But I’m probably just projecting that.”

“Anyone would be disappointed to not spend time with you.” Sydney defends immediately, always the best cheerleader for you. “Maybe text him and reschedule?” She suggests. “Friends have dinner, it’s not cheating. You aren’t going out on a date.”

“I know it’s not cheating.” Syd knows better than anyone why you hate liars and cheaters. “I texted him on my way in this morning to reschedule, but I don’t…I don’t know if he’ll respond. He was probably just being polite asking in the first place.”

“I doubt that.” Sydney had seen the covert looks that each one of them had given the other when they weren’t looking during game night. Both of them were curious and she is interested to know about that hummingbird tattoo, it’s not common, despite what you might say.

“Then it’s because I’m best friends with his friend’s soulmate,” you reason instead.

“No, it’s because Juan said that Marcus was trying to be polite but that he was interested in you.” Sydney tells you.

You feel the blood drain from your face shamefully fast, and your eyes dart up to meet your best friend’s. “He said that?”

“Yes.” She isn’t going to lie to you, Juan had told her that. “But, he also said that Marcus respects relationships and he’s not the type of man to make a move on you if you’re in a relationship.” She knows how you feel about that kind of thing and she agrees with you.

“Well…I mean…that’s good? Isn’t it? That just means he’s respectful.” Still , you find yourself sitting on the idea that Marcus likes you and being halfway between mortified and grinning. It feels ultimately childish and yet like your chest is filling full of something very much like joy.

“According to Juan, Marcus Pike is the best man, the best person that he’s ever known.” Sydney acknowledges with a nod, deciding not to comment on your giddy expression. “Even though he was busy with training at the academy, he was always helping with housework or running errands to take care of things.” She shrugs. “His ex-wife was a med student. So I guess she’s a doctor now.”

“It’s just a coincidence.” This mantra of yours is going to get old quick, but you have a partner. A long term one, even. One that until a week or so ago, you had thought you had a future with. Now that resolve is waning and you don’t really know how you started to question yourself so easily.

Sensing that you’ve dug your heels in, she backs off, giving a small shrug. “I’m sure it is.” She hums. “So what are your Valentine’s Day plans with Sam?” She asks. “Did he plan something romantic?”

“We’re going to dinner and then a community fundraiser in his district.” It doesn’t sound romantic, you will admit that, but anything too luxurious you did can be perceived in a very wrong way by the general public if it gets out. A Congressman and the First Daughter going to a spa getaway or the symphony would be seen as being out of touch with the people. “He…wants to talk about the future.”

“And you don’t sound like it’s a conversation that you are eager to have.” She sits down, her own herbal tea in front of her and she frowns slightly.

“I’m…not sure, honestly.” Without hesitation and without filter, the explanation about your conversation with Judge D’Amario’s wife and what Sam said at dinner with them comes tumbling out of your mouth and you can’t help but cringe to yourself when you get it all out in the open air. “Am I overreacting? Please tell me I’m overreacting.”

Sydney winces and gives you a small shrug. “He has known from the beginning that you aren’t the type to want to be a typical politician’s spouse and give up your career.” She reminds you. “Remember that night out in Alexandria? Where we were bar hopping? I had a very frank conversation with him about that.”

“You did?” Your forehead scrunches as you take a sip of coffee. “Then why would he think I would be willing to have someone else manage the inn?”

“I don’t know if I can answer that.” She admits quietly. “But I think he gave them his true ideal. You quitting and being by his side for all his accomplishments.”

“It’s not that I’m not proud of him.” Some would argue that that is what it signals, but you and Sydney are not those types of people. “He’s doing such good work, and I do want to have kids and a house and all that domestic stuff. I just…I don’t want to give up working. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life standing behind a podium waving politely. I’m—I want to be me, not an extension of my partner.”

“I know that.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But does Sam? Really? I think that he can convince you that it’s what you want.” She huffs. “I know he’s a good guy, but is he the right guy?”

“Not everybody finds perfect,” you remind her quietly, knowing that that is exactly what she has with Juan. Their version of perfect is about support, respect, and unending silliness, and you’ve always craved the same. But there aren’t many men in the world like Juan. Not many at all.

“That doesn’t mean you need to settle.” She tells you, squeezing your hand gently. “If you are happy, I’m happy. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“To be honest?” Closing your eyes for a second to swallow a sigh, the best you can do is shake your head. “I didn’t think I was settling. But now I can’t help but wonder…”

“Then you owe it to yourself, and to Sam, to make sure before you commit any further.” She suggests, knowing that you would feel horrible about divorcing later on.

“How?” It’s an honest question, since the situation is tangled up in guesses and implied maybes. “Break up with Sam because Marcus might be my soulmate? What happens if I’m wrong and I regret the whole thing? Sam would never take me back and I would deserve it.”

“Ask Marcus to show you the tattoo.” She hums. “That’s not cheating. It would be no different than seeing him in swimming trunks.”

“If he ever responds to me.” Which you sort of doubt. You sort of did just drop plans with him the second your boyfriend called. But you are the kind of person who makes your relationship a priority. You always have been.

“And if he doesn’t….” She shrugs. “You just deal with that.” She frowns. “But I would be upset if you had done the same to me.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t have a right to be upset with me.” Marcus has a right to feel however he feels. He’s human, after all. “This whole thing is just so out of left field. Especially after spending all of last year talking about freedom of affection and being happy with a partner who isn’t your soulmate.”

“Except you had never potentially met your soulmate.” She pauses and shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, if you don’t want to pursue it, don’t. Juan won’t say anything and I’ll just encourage him to hang out with Marcus on a guys night.”

“I don’t know,” you admit honestly, poking at the remains of your breakfast with a frown. “First let’s see if he speaks to me again. I gotta go change my clothes for work.” A heavy blanket of tension works on you that wasn’t there when you came home, and you drag yourself off the stool with a swallowed sigh. “Thanks for breakfast, honey.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs, wishing for a moment that Juan hadn’t run into Marcus. Hadn’t mentioned a tattoo that was throwing you into a spin. “I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thank you.” Coming around the counter, you wrap your arms around her tightly and inhale, trying to remember your yoga and let the stress roll off your shoulders and not carry it into the work day. “And I’m always here for you. No matter what.”

“I know.” She grins into your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, bitch.” She teases. “I will go to war for you, bury bodies and not even think twice.”

"No hesitation." You link your pinkies together, the same way you have since you were little kids. "I really have to go change now. But thanks for listening to me ramble and fret."

“Anytime.” She scoffs, waving away your thanks. “You’ve listened to me plenty.” Lately it’s been about being a good mother and not completely wrecking Baby Badillo, but she understands the need to just vent. You’re there for one another, both of you, through thick and thin.

______

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

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers

My Masterlist!

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

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personwhowrites · 8 months

Note

TF141 reaction to reader doing a russian reload?

This is really hilarious to me because I done bots for character ai on Ghost, Price and König reacting to you doing the Russian reload. Anywho!

John Captain Price

Price didn’t see it at first, he thought nothing of it until you did it again. It clearly surprised him, he wasn’t never told you had Russian roots.

He does question you, like a lot. Price develops this trust issue, since he has been through a lot already and that added to it. Price does try to maintain calm near you but finds it impossible knowing you might be hiding other things from him and the team.

If you are a Russian spy he would immediately turn you in. No questions asked, he can’t risk the men on his team. It would be hard for him to come to terms you were a spy. Someone that couldn’t be trusted, over so much bonding time.

If you weren’t a Russian spy but somehow How knew how to reload the guns like that. price would take you out the habit and make sure you never do it again. If you do, he slightly lectures you.

“Y/n.. please know I’m doing this for your own good.” Price says, his hands on his hips. “It’s has to.. reload like that. Especially in abase with a British and Americans here..”

“Sorry..”

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Kyle, well he knew something was off about you the moment you stepped into the base. Your form to do this seemed out of place to be British, your accent was.. too strong. More forced than Ghost, Price and himself. He didn’t want to tell anyone when he saw you reload the gun.

Kyle wasn’t sure if he saw it correctly, but finally managed to talk to you. Started to ask you, pressure you into answering if you were Russian. Having a past with Russians he starts to feel off of around you, Kyle starts making big distance between you and him. Price catches on and asks Kyle what’s happening.

Kyle rats you out to price, which he felt bad about. He didn’t want to make your life hell, for you to be locked up in an interrogation room. If you did turn out to be Russian spy all that guilt would go away, immediately.

If you weren’t Russian and you just had a habit of reloading your guns he would feel terrible. To the point he would apologize none stop, when you two crossed paths. He would try to help you out to get out the habit of reloading guns like that. Kyle wanted to make sure no one else made the same mistake he did.

“..Y/n Im so sorry it’s just.”. Kyle pauses and takes a deep breath. “I.. assume you were..”

“..It’s okay..” You reply patting his arm. “We can later look back at this and have a good laugh..”

John Soap Mactavish

Soap would be minding his own business in the firing range. He didn’t expect less or more from you, Soap never really payed attention to anything. Yet that one day he did, he saw you reload. It wasn’t just a silly mistake, oh no no you fully reloaded every single time the same.

Soap would waste no time and handcuff you with zip ties. He would embarrase you by dragging you out, saying ‘got myself a Russian.’ Little did he know those words would he the death of your career. Price would take you away for interrogation, Soap would try to go in the room to see you but Price wouldn’t let him.

If you were a Russian spy he would feel some sort of guilt for exposing you. All that joke turned out to be true, and now he is torn between being glad he caught you or.. sad that he did.

If you weren’t a Russian spy and like the past others told them that you have a habit or reloading guns like that. My guy.. he would feel like the worst leader/Sargent, he almost ruined your career before even asking you why you reloaded like that. He would do anything opening doors for you, giving you small gifts/candy to make up for his mistakes.

“..Y/n Im so sorry..” Soap says shaking his head. “I should have asked instead of..”

“It’s okay.. I suppose..” You mumble and sigh. “I don’t like mint chocolate..”

Simon Ghost Riley

Ghost always had this suspicion of you, when he saw you reload the gun. He immediately has all his suspicions confirmed. Like soap he didn’t waste no time, he put zip ties on your wrist and dragged you to Price office. Ghost felt disgusted knowing you been lying and possibly have been a rat on their missions.

Ghost always has a grudge against you. The others didn’t know why, but as soon as he told them what you did. It clicked, Ghost guy has been telling you were bad news to the base, possibly a rat. He didn’t even bother to let you explain yourself. Ghost would be the one that interrogate you, no questions asked.

If you were a Russian spy, he would have to hold his anger back. Knowing his gut was right, and him rejecting it. Price would have to take him out the room and let yourself turn yourself in. Ghost wouldn’t even want you to live at the point, all he saw red..

If you weren’t a Russian spy he would deny it. Ghost wouldn’t drop it all, forcing you take a lie detector test over and over. Until he finally saw you were telling the truth. Ghost after that would put a lot of distance between the two of you. He hated that he almost harmed you, almost made you break under his ways. Ghost wouldn’t apologize in any way, he would just.. stare at you for long periods of times regretting his mistake.

#cod fandom #simon ghost riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x you #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #cod soap #captain john price #cod ghost #john price #cod gaz #cod price #Simon ghost

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thecuriousquest · 8 months

Note

Maybe some hawks yandere?

Pay Attention!

Yandere Keigo x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW (spanking punishment & slightly erotic themes), manipulation, possessiveness

Summary: You just started your first job as a sidekick at eighteen. As things are difficult with your personal life, they start interfering with your career. How will Hawks react?

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You walk into Hawk’s agency for a meeting to discuss your work as his sidekick. You know you haven’t been giving it your all recently, and you’re disappointed in yourself for that. You shouldn’t let your personal issues interfere with your work. However, the hell you’re going through seems to keep getting in your way. You’ve become unfocused during missions, and Hawks has scolded you more than once about endangering yourself by not being mentally present.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to his office. Hawks wanted to have this meeting extremely early for the reason being that nobody would be in the building yet. It’s six-thirty in the morning, and nobody starts showing up until eight. With a heavy heart, you knock on the door, alerting him of your presence.

“Come in,” you hear behind the door.

Walking into his office, he tells you to sit down so that the meeting can begin. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions, guilt being the main one.

“Look, Y/N, I really like working with you. I think you’re a great young lady with tons of potential. That’s why I feel it’s my job to tell you that you might end up getting fired in a few days. It’s not because of me. My manager and publicist brought this up in a meeting a few days ago. Your work has been slacking, and it’s starting to affect me.”

“Well, what can I do? There has to be something. Keigo, I can’t lose my job!”

“Whoa there, calm down. I know this is upsetting news. I just didn’t want it to come as a surprise to you if you end up getting canned. I’m not trying to upset you or anything.”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I know you’re not. I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just…I’m going through such a hard time right now. I have to pay my rent, or I’m going to get evicted. Please, I don’t want to be fired.”

Keigo leans back in his chair, his wings settling against his sides. He jokes, “I mean, I can’t just give you a spanking and send you on your way. These kinds of things have actual consequences.”

Knowing it’s a stretch, you twiddle with your thumbs nervously as you shrug and wipe away a stray tear from your cheek. “What if you gave me the spanking instead of firing me?”

Hawks laughs and then realizes that you aren’t kidding. “I…Y/N, I can’t do that.”

“Why? I thought this was your agency.”

“Well, there’s HR and stuff could get complicated if it got out that I did that to you. Not that I’m implying I would.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone and nobody’s here.”

Keigo takes a few moments. He stands up from his desk chair and walks over to the window, looking out over the city. After making up his mind, he turns and looks at you. “Alright, if this is what you want, then lift your skirt and bend over the desk.”

Your eyes widen with hope. “If I do this, you won’t fire me?”

He shakes his head, giving you a soft smile. “Nope. You’ll get to keep your job.”

You hurry to do as you are told. Once you lift your skirt, you notice that Keigo has drawn the blinds around the office, granting you privacy even though nobody is in the building. You wonder what a spanking from Keigo will feel like. Will he be firm yet merciful? You think he’s a pretty easy going guy, so the punishment shouldn’t hurt too much.

Then his hand comes crashing down on your bottom as you’re jackknifed over his desk, and you find yourself sorely mistaken. His hand holds the wrath of Satan! You end up deeply regretting your decision after only ten smacks. You didn’t think Hawks would spank you so hard since he’s such a laid back man.

Frantically, you put a hand behind you to protect your bottom from his onslaught.

“Ow! Stop! It hurts!”

“Yeah? You asked for this. Did you think it was gonna tickle?” He takes your wrist and pins it to your lower back, continuing to redden your ass.

“Keigo, please, I don’t want to cry!”

“I’m perfectly fine with you crying in front of me. What I’m not okay with is you putting yourself in danger and ruining my image. Hero work can go horribly wrong if you’re not attentive. You’re lucky you’re getting off with a spanking this time, but if there’s ever a next time, your ass is gone.”

You try to wrestle your wrist away from his hand, but he’s a lot stronger than you are. Feeling like fighting isn’t getting you anywhere, you succumb to your sobs. This isn’t at all how you thought this would go down. You thought Keigo would give you either one or two harsh smacks or about ten swats that wouldn’t hurt at all.

As you can see, the plan failed because here you are: howling over the pro hero’s desk. It makes you feel like a child. You’ve never liked crying in front of others because of how vulnerable it makes you feel. Right now, you think this is the most exposed you’ve ever been.

“Never put yourself in danger like that again! Do you understand me? You’re too valuable to lose,” he admonishes as he works the backs of your thighs so that they match your crimson bottom.

“Yes, Sir, I understand! I’ll never do it again!” You scream your promises. “Please, Sir, I’m so sorry!”

Dripping a bit with sweat and tears, you wonder if he’ll ever have mercy on you. It takes you a full thirty seconds before you realize he has stopped.

He stands there, towering over your limp form, looking at his masterpiece. He did that with his hands. He turned your bottom and thighs into a mass of scarlet, crimson, and cherry red with flecks of purple bruises here and there. It’s so tempting for him to press his lips against your beaten flesh.

Keigo finds a way to pull himself together. He can’t give into his desires. Like a gentleman, he helps you up from the desk and turns you to face him. What comes next is something your heart decided before having the chance to talk with your brain. You immediately hug Hawks, arms wrapping around him tightly. He isn’t entirely surprised, and he gives you the comfort that you need. The hero gives you a tissue for you to wipe your face with, and you gladly take it.

“You need to focus more. I’m giving you the day off. Get some rest, take care of some personal things, and come back tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down ever again!” You promise him as you exit his office. You close the door and head back to your apartment.

Keigo folds his arms across his chest and smirks. “The young ones are always so easy to fool.”

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youthguk · 1 year

Text

Next level | jjk gamer au

pairing: gamer! jungkook x gamer! reader

genre: rivals to lovers, smut (in further chapters), gamer au.

words: 2.4k

summary: Is fate playing with you when your one-night stand turns out to be the rising esports star, Jeon Jungkook, from your lifelong rival team? However, something tells you that Jungkook’s also not done playing with you as both of you will do anything to make your teams win.

author’s note: the game in this fic is just a figment of my imagination (just like everything else what will happen in this fic), inspired both by genshin impact and league of legends.

Chapter 1. Like a moth to a flame

The idea of spending your last free Friday evening at a party was ridiculous and Jisoo knew that. But when she heard about some peculiar game-themed party hosted by someone from your university, she knew that it was a match made in heaven!

And you couldn’t say no even though night outs or parties never were your thing, simply a waste of scarce resources which time is, you always said. And you couldn’t afford that squander. However, gaming was your thing. Almost part of your personality at this point and maybe even a dream vocation.

And if your ride to the destination was full of hesitation and even guilt (you could have been studying or practicing instead of this), all of that was gone the minute you stepped into the house party.

The living room decorated with all possible Vision of Fate themed items left you in awe. You didn’t even try to suppress your sudden squirm when you saw your favorite game characters on cupcakes. Looking around the room you’re faced with groups of your peers: some are interested in simply getting drunk, some are playing PS5 and no one seems to pay attention to the little corner of VoF in the kitchen the same way as you do.

Even the loud music isn’t bothering you once you’re able to catch the familiar theme song from VoF remixed which makes it almost unrecognizable yet quite conducive for the party. Weird choice but you are almost intrigued by the dedication of the party's host to the game.

Somewhere on your way to the kitchen, you lost Jisoo in the crowd of people as she waved to you “I’ll find you later, have fun!”. Well, with all this food and PlayStation, you might spend your time here with joy.

“Finally someone’s going to try these.” you were so immersed in choosing between cupcakes with your favorite in-game characters, that you didn’t notice a tall brunette approaching you. “I was looking from afar, wondering if those will be tasty.”

You toss a look over your shoulder, taken back by a sudden comment from a stranger. You eye him up and down, making sure that this boy is not someone you are supposed to know. Of course, how would you know anyone at this party? Your life consisted of university classes and gaming practices. Somewhere in-between — your household duties. You are sure that Jisoo, who isn’t even from your university, had more acquaintances here than you.

“So, you think I can actually eat this?” You try to sound unbothered, suppressing sudden excitement and nervousness in your voice. You find the stranger quite good-looking and, even though you’re reluctant to admit that, getting his attention might make you feel things that you have long forgotten.

It feels like ages since the last time you’ve encountered anything closely resembling flirting, and maybe tonight's the night for allowing yourself a little bit more of what you’re already spending your evening at a weird university party.

“Wouldn’t make sense if it was just for the decor,” replies the stranger, leaning on the kitchen counter; you feel his gaze studying you.

“What if you just wanna see me make a fool of myself?”

“Mmh not really into that type of shit,” the brunette casually blurted. He takes a quick bite of one of the cupcakes that you were choosing between. The taste of it leaves his brows drawn in a frown and you expect him to complain about the savoriness of the pastry but instead, he adds, “I’m Jeon Jungkook, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook.” You introduce yourself too, gaining some confidence to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind, “You play VoF too?”

“Not really, just got interested in this little corner,” he firmly replies. Met with your overt disappointment, Jungkook quickly adds, “And you? You like this?” he asks while motioning to all the themed designs and goods.

“I do play, actually…” you answer hesitantly as his piercing doe eyes are watching you. “But now the more I look at this, the more ridiculous all of this looks,” Jungkook shot you a questioning glance, to which you hastened to add, “I mean, this is definitely not a place for this.”

“You seemed to like the theme at first.”

The excitement from finally socializing has quickly faded with a wash of crippling anxiousness as you find yourself trying to predict his reaction to your words. You are seeing him for the first and, probably, the last time in your life, yet you are seeking his approval.

“Yeah, I did but I play the game and love it, others definitely don’t give a damn about all of this and came just to party,” the moment the words fleed your mouth you again want to not seem even more judgemental, “Which is also totally fine, just feel like the target audience isn’t here.” you force a giggle, looking around awkwardly.

“Well, you never know,” his words go almost unnoticed by you, as your eyes wander around the room, hoping to find Jisoo by some miracle. Your friend is totally MIA. Maybe Junngkook notices your discomfort, because he suddenly adds, “are you looking for somebody?”

“Yes, my friend dragged me here.” Your eyes are finally back at Jungkook and for a moment you are startled. He was looking at you this whole time, his discerning gaze never leaving you. Jungkook is handsome, you think, and immediately get annoyed by yourself. Is this the right time to think about it? “But now she’s nowhere to be found.”

“Jisoo is a big girl, I doubt that there’s something to worry about,” he sighs heavily.

“You know Jisoo?” you raise your eyebrows in surprise while leaning in closer to Jungkook.

“Well, sort of… I’ve heard of her,” he pulled at the back of his neck, his eyes darting behind you surprisingly avoiding eye contact. Preceding further questions from you, he clears his throat and adds with no confidence, “she knows a friend of mine.”

You nod, contemplating if you should ask questions any further. For some reason, Jungkook didn’t want to talk about him being acquainted with Jisoo, which is currently the only thing that you have in common that you know of. And by the way his body has tensed you would even assume that he is slightly regretting that he’s mentioned.

Being usually the only introvert in any friend group made you accustomed to other people always trying to get you talking and doing the small talk. But if you and Jungkook were competing for the prize of the timidest person, he could definitely give you a run for your money. His erstwhile cockiness is long gone. Still, he isn’t going anywhere and you allow yourself to assume that he actually enjoys your company.

“I haven’t been to any parties for years, this is the first in a while, ” you decide to take the initiative for the sake of curiosity. You wonder where this all can lead.

“Glad you gave it a shot,” you catch a glimpse of a sudden spark in his eyes. He didn’t want this to end either. “You know if you are such a gamer girl, I have an offer that might be hard for you to decline.”

You shoot him a cautionary gaze, “I’m not playing games. Whatever that means.”

“Oh, something tells me you’ll like that,” Jungkook wets his lower lip, a snug grin plastering his beautiful face that leaves you smitten.

The new-made friend of yours beckons you to follow him and you look around at your surroundings, mulling over the idea. The loud music is starting to grate on you and getting drunk is not on your to-do list for today’s evening. The beloved PS5 in the center of the party has been taken by some wasted group of friends, which also makes your blood boil. Well, whatever Jungkook has to offer you cannot be worse than this.

As further Jungkook drags you through the endless corridors of this big house, the more alert you are. Jungkook isn’t a stranger, after all, he knows Jisoo and you trust your friend’s circle of acquaintances. Not to mention that Jeon Jungkook is quite attractive and being around him feels ecstatic, and you want to hold on to this long-forgotten feeling for as much as you can. But you’re not some naive person to let your guard down either.

Jungkook is slowing down which signals that you have probably finally arrived. “You know this place so well, is this your house?” You finally voice the doubt that has been crawling on you while trailing behind him.

“I’m just close with the owner,” he abruptly looks over his shoulder to assure you.

He stands before a door motioning you to take the first step into the room

“Ladies first,” he holds his hand for you while holding back a laugh.

You chuckle, “This house is ridiculously enormous, why would anyone—“ you cut off, gazing in awe at the room before your eyes.

An arcade room with a wide variety of games and machines opens up to you. You leave all your concerns behind carefully stepping forward. You don’t know who the owner of this house is but you feel a niggle of jealousy. How could someone live such a lavish lifestyle that they own the finest Arcade room that you’ve ever seen? The design of the room was surely inspired by the Japanese 80s cyberpunk aesthetic with all the lanterns and neon lights ornating the walls.

“I knew you would like it here,” Jungkook is right behind you, giving you time to look around a myriad of arcade cabinets, claw machines, and even VR games.

“At least it’s quiet here and I can properly hear you,” you don’t know how many tries you will have here, so you weigh on between playing the mini bowling or racing games.

“Can you hear me well now?” You feel the sudden warmth of Jungkook’s body behind you.

Not even trying to resist the urge to meet his mesmerizing eyes, you turn around, now facing Jungkook. Even through the dim lights of the Arcade room, you are able to catch the entrancing sparkle in his doe eyes that reel you in by the second. Your eyes flicker to his lips and you notice a cute little mole right beneath his mouth that sends warmth through your body.

And before it’s too late, your stare darted around the room hoping that Jungkook didn’t notice anything. Well, you’re sure he did, as a smirk spreads all over his face but maybe he decided to be a better person and doesn’t tease you about it.

“So, what can we play here?” You innocently ask, blinking up at him.

“Anything that you’d like,” he spreads his arms, and you can tell it took some willpower for him to fight the urge of answering your question not so innocently as he did.

You bit your lip, excitedly running from one machine to another as a little kid in a toy store not knowing what game to start with.

“But I thought, maybe you’d like to start with this one,” Jungkook’s smug voice reached out to you from the far side of the room.

He was leaning on a vintage arcade cabinet and at first, you were confused why he suggested this one in particular. That was until you came closer, recognizing the design of characters that you loved since you were a little kid.

“Is this for real the original Legends of the Wild arcade?” You find yourself glued to the machine, not willing to keep your hands to yourself. “Jungkook, this is literally what sculptured me into the person that I am today!” You both laugh as you continue examining the old arcade, getting ready to finally play.

You weren’t exaggerating for a bit, this game was profoundly responsible for your lifelong love for games. The minute you laid your hands on Nintendo’s joysticks, determined to play through the Legends of Wilds until you find out how the in-game story ends, was the minute your love for beautiful and meaningful games was found. And then later you stumbled upon an online game Vision of Fate which later made you a player of a rookie esports team where you met your best friend Jisoo. And your little esport romantic nature always wanted to even have a look at the original game’s arcade which was discontinued for a very long time.

But here it is, right in front of you, and your hands are tightly gripping the joystick, trying to score as high as possible. And it’s all thanks to Jungkook, who was a stranger just an hour ago that you might have never even crossed paths with, but for some reason you did. And now he sort of made one of your dreams come true while absolutely being clueless about games? Maybe it was fate, coincidence, or just an inevitable course of life that made you meet here someone who knew this house so well, while Jisoo left you…

“Shit, I totally forgot about Jisoo!” Your sudden wave of guilt leaves Jungkook in absolute shock.

“Didn’t she abandon you in the first place?” He kindly reminds you, which is technically true.

“That’s not how friendships work,” you take a step back, leaning on a table right next to the arcade. “I should at least text her,” you pull out your phone from the back pocket typing in the message, “You can try and play by yourself”.

You text a quick “where are you, everything’s fine?” message and click “send”. When your attention is back to Jungkook, you see the infamous “GAME OVER” plastered on the screen. You let out a chuckle, hurrying to save Jungkook.

“Need help?”

“Yeah, would be nice,” he beckons you to come closer to his side. And when you follow his instruction, he says, “Feel free to guide me however you want.” His smirk is irritating but you’re way too uplifted to think about a witty answer.

Plus, you can’t complain about having to stand in such close proximity to Jungkook. Not when everything about him is so ravishing.

You gently place your hand over his palm that is holding the joystick, fully ready to guide him. Was this ridiculous? Yes. Was this really necessary? No, Jungkook wasn’t even into games. But the warmth of his toned body right behind yours and his wide shoulders brushing yours were keeping you right at your spot.

When he leans in closer to you, his hot breath brushes your ear, as he mumbles hoarsely, “You are very good at this, Y/N, you know it?”

To be continued

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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 9 months

Text

Against The Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)

And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!

Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush

I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours

The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart

"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"

"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"

"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"

"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"

"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."

"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s incredible vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."

"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."

Curses (Crane Wives)

Ashes, ashes, dust to dust/Tell me I am good enough/Lay my curses out to rest/

All my aching bones are trembling/And I may yet fall apart/Won't you stay with me, my darling/When the war starts in my heart?

Every word I say is kindling/But the smoke clears when you're around/Won't you stay with me, my darling/When my walls start burning down, down, down?

"The singer is falling apart but they'll still jam about it. They're trying so hard to get better, they're failing, and they need support even when recovery feels hopeless. It's a concept I haven't seen explored in a song before. Lots of songs are about someone relying on their partner for emotional support but none explore the darker side of the difficulty of carrying someone else's burdens. Also the clarinet fucks."

"One, is starts out with a jazzy clarinet. The instrumentals of the song is very dance-y. I love the destructive tone of the lyrics, the singer thinking they ruin everything and they're not worthy of love, but still begging You to stay"

"It’s asking for help when you’re at your lowest. It’s the emotion behind the words— it’s one of those songs where the singer puts weight and emphasis on certain lines. Makes the heart go ouughghhghghh. It’s the “duo who’s known each other for a long time and are driving out post-big time conflict” or “emotional climax where there’s no words, only action” scene type of song imo. Also there’s a mad clarinet solo and it’s really good"

Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others

Curses submitted by @dreadful-windandrain + others

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #will wood #the crane wives

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enderpearlll · 1 year

Note

Damn but what if.. Yan! Kevin AND Steber😳??

Poly Yanderes!Kevin and Streber Headcanons.

A few people requested for yandere headcanons for these two, so here you go. I’m sorry for the lack of posts, I’m trying to keep up with asks and school at the same time oops.

Gender-Neutral reader.

• It doesn't matter how you three met, Kevin and Streber have adored you since the beginning. Despite being in a loving relationship for a long while now, you've managed to worm your way into their hearts. They'd do anything for you. And once you've got these two hooked, there's no getting rid of them. Ever.

• Streber was the first to fall, realizing that you were more than a friend when you listened to his ramble on and on with a huge smile on your face. You were always so attentive, and oh so thoughtful... He found himself blushing and shaking his hands when he thought about you, just like he did with his boyfriend. Wait... Oh no. What was he going to tell Kevin? Streber felt horrible, you both just met for crying out loud!

• But he couldn't help but indulge in the way you made him swoon, writing you poems and yearning to hold you in his arms. Dear god, the thought of you as his own made his heart swell with joy. But guilt writhed deep within him whenever he spoke to you, taking in your word like gospel. You were a true guilty pleasure for him.

• Kevin, on the other hand, took a while longer to realize his feelings for you. You regularly visited him at his job, paying him a visit everyday. He had to admit, he admired your dedication and commitment to come and see him everyday, no matter the conditions.

• One day, you had missed a visit (which was Kevin's highlight of the day), and Kevin was distraught. You usually came at the same time everyday. He kept checking the clock, nervously pacing and fidgeting with his uniform. You had to come today, you just had to. Kevin never got this worried unless it was about his boyfriend... Oh. Oh shit.

• They usually communicate fairly well, but when they met you, it was a struggle to speak to one another about the developing obsession— Crush. They mean crush. They both collectively realize that they both had a crush on you one night, when they both lied in bed awkwardly. Streber had broken the silence, a quiet sniffle coming from him. "...Kevin? I have something to tell you..."

• Kevin brushed his hand through his messy hair, stress evident in his eyes. "Me too." They both looked at each other, before breaking out into a soft fit of giggles. "You go first." Kevin said, watching as Streber shook his head. "No, you." They both sighed deeply, glancing away from each other. "Together?" "Together." The two of them uttered quietly.

• "I like Y/n!" They both said simultaneously, and then stared in shock at each other. "... Really? I've been worried for nothing, then!" Kevin shouted, relieved as he smiled at Streber, who was on the verge of tears. "Me too. God, I'm so glad you like them too!" They slowly erupted into laughter, holding onto each other and smothering each other in kisses. They spent the whole night raving on and on about you, gushing with excitement as they both talked about a relationship with you.

• These two feed into each other's obsession like crazy. They think it's true love, that they've found their missing piece. Kevin is constantly worrying about your well-being, which is only fuelled by Streber's anxieties about someone taking you away from them. Streber finds that he doesn't like anyone else but him and Kevin being your friends, which Kevin vehemently backs up. You should only have them around. It's for your own safety!

• You, on the other hand, were torn between the two. You had no idea either of them were in a relationship with each other, so when they suddenly told you one day you were shocked. How did you not see it sooner?! But you felt guilty as much as you did surprised, feeling horrible for having childish crushes on two men that were in a happy relationship. What you didn't expect was the sudden overflow of affection from the two.

• While they both were openly smitten with you, you noticed an influx of attention coming from both. Streber was more handsy, hugging you and swinging you around in his arms. He constantly barraged you with compliments, and would watch you do everything with pure investment. You were freaked out, since he was dating Kevin. You didn't want to be a home wrecker or anything.

• Kevin was an easy target to fluster and bother, but literally touching him or looking at him in the eyes got him redder than a cherry. You just grazed his arm and he's stuttering and shaking like a leaf! He'll ask you millions of questions about yourself, soaking up your words like a sponge. This goes on for a month.

• You're starting to feel buried underneath the amount of guilt you were feeling, so you asked them to spill everything. They both had sat you down in their shared apartment, both uncharacteristically giddy and quiet as you told them everything that you've been thinking. Neither of them flinched when you said how much they've been flirting with you, instead asking you a question you'd never thought you'd hear from the couple. "Would you want to date us?"

• You were in awe. You liked them both as equally as the other, and found them wonderful to be around. So after sitting there stunned, you finally said yes. Maybe you were making a mistake, seeing as you've only known them for a few months, but you were so flattered you couldn't say no. It was a dream come true!

• Which it was, for awhile. You noticed that they quickly warmed up to you, often inviting you over to hangout. You quickly realized that they preferred to keep you inside, and strayed away from the mere thought of an outdoor date. It's not like you minded, though. You had your boys all to yourself and you loved it, nothing wrong with that.

• Well, after a literal month of dating, they already wanted to take it to the next level and have you move in. You declined their eager request, believing that it was way too early to be moving in. Even though you were rarely at your own house anymore due to them constantly wanting you around. They both were obviously dissatisfied with your answer, spending weeks trying to convince you to move in with them. Kevin's excuse was that they could take much more care of you, and that you wouldn't have to leave them. Streber's was constant whining and begging, along with the help of some crocodile tears.

• Inevitably, you caved into their pleas, watching as they smiled wider than they ever had before. You were shocked at how quickly they moved you in, even buying a bigger bed so you could sleep with them. Streber struggles to sleep at night, but with you and Kevin on either side of him, he sleeps like a log. You try to wake up and go to work some mornings, but they simply just trap you in their embrace and tiredly beg for you to stay home again, even though this was the sixth time you've done so that month.

• Kevin and Streber don't want you going to work, seeing as their jobs can keep food on the table just fine. You deny their pleas for you to quit, instead sneaking out to work when they aren't paying attention. But some rumours at work had started to spread like wildfire when you did so for the third time that week, most of which were embarrassing and humiliating. How did they know about that stuff? You only told your family and boyfriends about that stuff... You were forced to quit after the rumours had gotten too big for you to handle.

• You see, Streber can easily dig up any old information or embarrassing memories with the power of the internet. When you first met, he spent an entire night just searching for any bit of info on your life and interests. He liked to load up on facts about you, it made him happy. It's scary what he can do sometimes. Like how did he find your old Fanfiction.Net account. You haven't used that in years.

• Kevin loves to get you gifts and little trinkets for you, paying close attention to all of your interests and hobbies. A lot of which he learned from Streber, who dumps info about you on him like a water fall. It's terrifying, really. Like how did he know you've wanted his album for years, you haven't talked about it in months... And even before then, you didn't even know them at all.

• Of course, one can't constantly ignore or avoid the gigantic red flag at full mast behind Kevin and Streber. They may seem loving and caring on the outside, but you take notice of their odd overprotective tendencies. You can't go outside without one of them, you couldn't go to work when you had a job, and you can't even mention your friends without them getting jealous! But you're wearing rose-red glasses, so the gigantic red flag is just a flag.

• Don't even get started on the control and management they have over you. They control who you talk to, when you leave the house, when you can do anything hazardous... It was odd, but they were pushy and kept telling you than it was for your own good. Of course you listened to them, they were your partners and they were just concerned. But your friends were awfully worried with how fast your relationship was moving, and the lack of any interaction with them.

• They isolate and divide you from your friends, telling you that they didn’t like them or thought that they were safe to be around. Of course you’re confused, you’ve known most of your friends for years. Kevin is persistent and along with Streber’s guilt tripping, you inevitably cave in and slowly cut off all contact.

• As a result you feel more and more isolated, going to your boyfriends for comfort which they’re more than happy to provide. You begin to grow resentful against your former peers, fuelled by Kevin and Streber’s insecurities and fears. They slowly begin to go behind your back and threaten your friends, only pushing them away further. This only enraptures you in their web even more.

• Of course Kevin and Streber feel bad, they hate seeing you so downtrodden. But with a little more time and a lot of affection, pretty soon you’ll realize that they love you more than anything. Everything they do is to benefit you, and they firmly believe what they’re doing is right.

#yandere fic #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere x you #yandere x reader #poly yandere #candybats #yandere spooky month #spooky month streber #spooky month kevin #spooky month x reader #spooky month #yandere kevin

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enassbraid · 1 year

Note

hiyahhhhh:) am i able to request a rui x reader where he gets jealous?

Jealousy, Jealousy

Featuring Rui Kamishiro

Hi anon, sorry this took a bit longer… I’ve been busy catching up in school. But i hope you enjoy:}

Cw) cursing (once), kinda cringe tbh but I was exhausted while writing this, short?? Idk depends on what you consider a shirt fic.

Something you’ve caught onto with all your time being with Rui was that he is surprisingly not the jealous type. He might be afraid to lose you- but he has too much trust in you to get jealous. When he feels a tinge of jealousy, Rui remembers that at the end of the day, he’ll still be your #1.

With that said, what does make Rui so jealous that he forgets his go to thought? This guy who doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.

You and Rui have almost every class together, so you two are rarely separated. And in each of those classes- everyone knows you two are together. Your peers don’t bother you or him as much when they realize how happy of a couple you are. But keyword, almost. Almost every class.

And in that one class there just so happens to be a classmate you’ve gotten closer with in the past few days. Getting paired up together often for assignments and group projects, and you got along quite well. He, of course, was not as relevant to you as you were to him. So you never really brought him up to Rui.

So when Rui is on his way to meet up with you after class ends, he raises a brow at the guy chatting your ear off. Raising that brow higher when he notices you were giggling a lot and paying close attention.

Rui tries to brush it off- he’s just one of your friends. Friends laugh with each other and talk with each other, this isn’t any different. But the way neither you or your classmate noticed Rui standing right behind you slightly irritated him.

“I saw this new shop that opened around the corner- I think you might like it! Do you wanna swing by it with me?” ‘Is he trying to ask them on a date?’

“Is there really? I’m sorry- me and my boyfriend are supposed to have met up by now and go home. What about another time” Rui felt his heart flutter a bit, reassured you haven’t forgotten about him.

“Oh shit- you have a boyfriend? I mean, congrats? I just thought you were single y’know?”

Yeah, Rui’s had enough at this point. This guy clearly had intentions on being more than friends and whether you realized it or not- he’s kept making moves till you got the hint. Which of course, you didn’t. You would only notice and pay attention to Rui’s romantic gestures.

“Yeah actually, they’re taken. I’m their boyfriend. And we were meant to be on our way minutes ago but you couldn’t seem to notice they have no interest. C’mon (Name), let’s get going.”

You wondered how long Rui had been standing there before he spoke up, and you felt guilt swell up in your chest. How did you not realize your own boyfriend was standing right behind you while another guy was asking you out? He didn’t look sad, or upset, he looked slightly irritated but besides that his expression was blank.

The walk home was silent, but you still held onto each other’s hands with the occasional squeeze, it was reassuring.

Once the two of you were home, Rui didn’t waste a second to tightly hug you. You hugged back- appreciating this moment and his touch. When he pulled away he just looked at you, not knowing where to start when talking about how he feels.

“It’s ok, Rui, I know you were jealous and I’m sorry for not realizing my classmate’s intentions. But look who I’m with now! I’d choose you over anyone anytime. I’m not going to leave you, Rui.”

He’s not sure why- but Rui felt joy overcome him when you read him perfectly. He didn’t need to say anything and find a way to put his emotions into words, you already did.

“I’m sorry I got jealous over something so dumb. I love you, (Name).”

#project sekai #prsk #pjsk #pjsekai #project sekai x reader #pjsekai x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #rui kamishiro #rui #rui fluff #rui x reader #wonderland x showtime #wxs #tsukasa tenma #dor writes

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empressyu123 · 2 months

Text

It’s you… - chapter 3

Flashback

Yesterday after the phone call from the mystery person Isagi then goes to Anri to ask for something.

as he stands there he thinks for a minute, hesitant but then knocks.

Isagi: Anri.

Anri: hello Isagi, is something wrong?

Isagi: No, no, everything’s fine it’s just i’m here to make a request and i’m going to need your’s and Ego’s permission

Anri: oh, then what is it?

Isagi: if it’s alright with you could i use my points that I earned previously to visit someone?

Anri: oh

Anri: i don’t think we could do, because we’re a little too busy with the upcoming party…

she looks at him with an apologetic smile.

Isagi: oh, okay… sorry for bothering you i’ll head back

looking like a sad kitten Isagi slowly starts to walk away, and Anri witnessing this felt a pang of guilt suddenly perks up with an idea.

Anri: hey,

Isagi turns then tilts his head

Anri: how about you bring them here?

isagi, perks up: really?

Anri: sure! just call text her and we can make that arrangement!

Isagi: Yes!

he’s about to make the call until he actually process what was just said

Isagi: her?

Anri: your girlfriend?

there was silence.

Isagi: … I don’t have a girlfriend.

Anri: oh? oh! then your boyfriend then? (tryna be open minded)

Isagi: no, um … don’t have that either,

Anri: …

there was a much longer awkward silence that was almost to long for their likings. Thankfully Anri broke it by apologising.

Anri: A-ah… sorry!

Isagi: are there perhaps rumors about that with me?

Anri: ! (why did I trust those damn rumors?!)

Isagi: don’t worry i’ve heard, i just didn’t think they’d spread so fast, or that anyone would believe them.

Isagi thinks back to the moment of when he heard his friends talking about it.

Isagi thinking: (honestly just ask me, is it that hard?) *sighs*

Anri: ah… sorry

Isagi: it’s alright I was gonna tell everyone later on

Anri: if you don’t mind me asking then

Isagi: ?

Anri: who’s coming today?

Isagi: my brother

Anri: brother?

Isagi: yea my eldest brother to be more specific, he’s really nice and kind and is amazing at everything he does or puts his mind into!

Anri: he sounds like a great person if you’re talking so highly of him,

Isagi nods vigorously and smiling silly

Anri: (strange in his report it doesn’t say anything about him having any siblings)

trying to remember on his report if he had siblings or not, she realised something

Anri: isagi?

Isagi who is not paying full attention as he’s still giddy with excitement

Anti: i think you’re late for training

Isagi: ? … OH SHOOT!

as he realises, he quickly runs off to his next training session. but before doing so, he turns his head to the lady.

Isagi: thanks, Anri you’re the best!

as Anri watches the cat like boy run off, she couldn’t help but giggle to herself,

Anri: now…

turning herself to her paperworks. as if she’s preparing for war

Anri: let’s finish these and then go to Ego!

As soon as she got to work she forgotten to go to Ego

End of flashback

In the monitor room. Five of the masters (yes Mick is alive in this story) were chatting about their trainees when a certain albino man comes in.

Noa: has anyone seen isagi?

Mick: what’s up, can’t find your protégée? wanting to do some bonding with him~

Noa rolls his eyes at his stupid words.

Noa: no.

jesters the person behind who is Ego himself

Noa: This guy needs to speak with him.

Ego: Apparently he’s invited someone over early without my permission or knowledge. I have to go meet them now.

Loki: i think he’s with someone right now

Ego: Anri?

Loki: no but yesterday he did asked Anri for permission too meet someone.

Snuffy: *smirking* “someone”?

Lavinho: yea?

Loki: think it’s the girlfriend

Snuffy: definitely,

Lavinho, Mick, Chris: GIRLFRIEND?!?!

Noa: we don’t know if it IS. it’s just an accusation that the trainees made

Mick: Well then,

Mick who is now smirking

Mick: should we go, see if it’s real or not then?

Noa: what.

A wide grin takes half of Lavinho’s face,

Lavinho: why not? i’m quite curious

Noa: but

Chris: Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious!

Noa sighs and looks Chris dead in the eyes with a blank stare

Noa: i’m not.

Chris: oh c’mon cyborg!

Mick and Lavinho: Booo, boring!

Snuffy: *laughing at the scene*

whilst everyone was discussing the topic of who this “mystery girl” was Ego turned to the youngest striker next to him, clearly annoyed

Ego: how’d did you know?

Loki: charles overheard their conversation yesterday.

Ego: and Isagi didn’t think to ask me first?

Loki: Anri was supposed to tell you yesterday, did she not?

Ego: …

Ego: that woman…

frustrated, he thought of a way to scold her and Isagi, when suddenly,

Chris: … wait.

everyone turns to look at Chris who’s looking at the monitor. then point to one of the screens

Chris: is that her?

everyone look at one he’s pointing at. The person was far away from the outside entrance camera and you could only see their back but even from that angle and distance,

Mick: holy shit…

Everyone: (She’s extremely beautiful)

but for some reason she looked. familiar?

however that thought was soon interrupted but Chris’s screeching

Chris: Just how, HOW? she’s GORGEOUS! and she looks 20!

Lavinho: *laughing* i’m dying to find out how he bagged this beauty!

Mick: Well what are we waiting here for? LETS GOO-

before they could all go to the entrance, there was a cough.

Ego: unfortunately for you.

Everyone stops in their tracks, then looks at Ego who’s pointing at the monitors all their teams who were up to trouble

Ego: you lot have the to go do your jobs

the masters: …

Ego: well then?

Noa: *sighs* we’ll be off then

Chris: make sure to introduce us to this girl once you meet her!

once all gone Ego slouched on his seat

Ego: haaa….. you paid for them, you paid for them, you PAID for them.

but as soon he looked at the figure in the screen again, he could help but wonder

Ego: … (why do you look so familiar?)

After waiting for some time, Isagi wondered if he should’ve have prepared a welcome home gift,

tugging on the green scarf that he wore the first time entering blue lock and looks nervously at the time on his phone.

Isagi: (it’s been a while) maybe i should call him-

??: Yoi!

Isagi turns as someone hugs him

as two coloured eyes that represented the sun and moon stare down at him, hidden behind his heart shaped sun glasses the voice called out

??: what have i told you about being wary of your surroundings?

Isagi: Aniki!

isagi then turns his body to hug back the long raven haired man.

Isagi: it’s so good to see you again it’s been ages,

laughing, the elegant man smile’s widen gently as he ruffles the smaller one’s hair

??: likewise dear, I see you’re wearing the scarf I made!

Isagi: how could I not? it’s my favourite one,

??: aww Yoichi! how come the words come out of your mouth are always so sweet?

Isagi’s eyes open wide and

flashbacks to all the insults he’s spewed on the field, probably dissed 1/4 of blue lock, adult included.

he darts his eyes away and sweats thinking if he should tell the truth or say something beautiful.

nervous Isagi: …yep

something beautiful it was.

Isagi: (oh Aniki, if you only you knew…)

??: now

slightly letting go of the hug the pretty gentleman to look up at him.

??: are you going to let me in this facility, or are we going to freeze to death out here?

Isagi: ah, of course hold on Anri and Ego are waiting inside for us!

now holding onto his aniki’s hand leading them both inside

??: of course-

??: …wait, what?

Isagi: come on, they’re waiting for you!

As Isagi drags his brother into the facility, the other raven hair’s smile could help but faultier slightly nervously. But quickly fixes it as soon as they were in the hall

Ego: Anri,

Anri: Yes?

Ego: why did you not inform me yesterday about this person?

Anri looks at Ego in confusion, then suddenly remembered that she forgot to tell him about it.

Anri: uh oh,

Anri: *coughs* ah well, i was pretty busy planning the party and i forgot to mention it to you…

Ego: why did Isagi come to you for permission anyway?

offended, Anri turns her head to him then asks blandly

Anri: Do you pay the bills here?

Ego: …

turned his head away then clicks his tough

Ego: shut up.

Anri: exactly!

Ego: let’s meet this girlfriend then,

Anri: ah, well- um you see

Anri: we’re not meeting his girlfriend,

Ego: who was that girl we saw on the monitor then, his sister?

Anri: his brother, his eldest brother to be more precise,

Anri: and you saw him on the monitor, what did he look like?

Ego: (beautiful) he had long hair with white tips

Ego: did you at least get to know his name?

Anri: …

Ego: Anri, you DID get his name… RIGHT?

Anri: look at the time IgottogotoIsagiandhisbrotherbye!

as quick as a flash, Anri dashed off to see the brothers before Ego could even call her back.

Ego: … *slaps his forehead* for FUCK sakes.

As the two black bluebell heads chatted and waited for a while, the older decided to finally ask

??: so who exactly. Is in charge around here?

Isagi: well, the woman who allowed us to meet is called Anri Teieri is the one who does all the paperwork and covers most of the jobs around here. And she’s a huge reason why this place is still running

??: wow go off queen! okay and the other?

Isagi: his name is Jinpachi Ego

the man had a smaller smile but his eyes were wide and stared in shock at what he just heard

??: Ego… Jinpachi?

Isagi: yea he’s the one who taught us all about egos and,

Isagi looked at his older brother worriedly as the beauty looked slightly pale.

Isagi: hey, are you alri-

*BAMM* the door flies open, they watched as Anri strides towards them with a nervous look on the face, clearly in her own world

Anri: Isagi Yoichi there you are, we NEED to go! is this your- oh wow…

the taller man looks at her then smiles

??: hi?

snapping out of her trance she drags both of them to Ego’s office

Anri: c’mon! Ego is waiting for us in his office,

Isagi: hey! no pushing!

Ego: *sigh and looks at the football stone on his thin tie* (i miss you…)

Just as Ego was about to turn get to work. He suddenly, heard a voice coming from outside

Anri: Ego, it’s me can we come in please?

Ego: come in,

the opens, he sees Anri and Isagi standing side by side and glares hard at them

Isagi: (fuck, he’s mad isn’t he?) hi Ego-san

Ego: Anri. Isagi.

Isagi & Anri: (here it comes)

Ego: do you know that you need at least a 2 days notice about this and you have a match and a party to attend too, we can’t be inviting people over and Anri how did you forget such an important mat-

Bravely (or stupidly) a gentle voice interrupted him

??: don’t be harsh on the poor things dear,

the long hair man emerged from behind them with the mannerisms that could only be described as like an angel

??: My little brother didn’t know till now, and the kind miss only just made a small mistake, so please be nice and forgive them,

Ego: and why should I listen to-

he looks up at the voice and is at loss for words,

Ego: you…

all that annoyance quickly vanished as soon as his eyes looked with his

silence

Isagi: ah, Ego, Anri I almost forgot to introduce you guys! sorry,

Isagi: this is my eldest brother-

Isagi’s eyes widen when Ego interrupts, he was shocked when he said his brother’s name

Ego: Ai Chouji…

Unfazed the pretty man taking off his sunglasses he smiles at Ego.

Chouji: nice to meet you again Gemstone,

(should i colour it fully?)

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock oc #isagi yoichi #ai chouji #ego jinpachi #anri teieri #noel noa #lavinho #chris prince #mick moon #marc snuffy #julien loki #loki x isagi #loki is so done #loved isagi #misunderstanding #pretty brother

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kyra45 · 8 months

Text

My purpose is whatever I want it to be, I don’t think it’s acceptable to tell me what I can only do over here. If my laptop posts are annoying, your forgetting that my laptop is how I actually make proper scam warning posts. You don’t see all my life posts; The laptop posts are just an update to why I’m not really able to currently do my scam busting at a decent pace.

I am not manipulating people into donating to here. I don’t post my links all that often. I’m not forcing anyone into giving me money. I don’t spam asks to share my pinned post, I don’t tag strangers in my kofi links, and I also don’t message people asking them to give me money. I am not guilt tripping anyone into funding my laptop. I know what it is and I try to make sure nothing I say is guilt tripping. I would suggest you go yell at scam blogs who do that.

People are free to give money to who they want to; There are more people who deserve it then I do. I don’t tell people they have to give me funds. It is entirely optional and they can give it to anyone else if they don’t want to give me anything.

It is not a scammy move to accept support for all the work I do here which is keeping up reports and information to the best of my ability. I don’t take money from those who need it. You act as if I make a living off this blog when I really don’t.

Also I’m not a scam blog I’m a blog that busts scam please pay attention to the things your saying.

#kyra45 speaks #anonynous #answer

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give-soup-please · 2 years

Note

can you write something romantic about jealous narrator? like, what if you were talking to your friend and narrator didn’t like that

Jealous narrator

The narrator is an inherently jealous person, though he does his best to keep it clamped down, for your sake. But let's be real, the dude has zero understanding of what a healthy relationship looks like.

Remember how snippy he got about the bucket? There’s even a specific line of dialogue where he complains about how the bucket is interfering with his and Stanley’s relationship.

So yes, he has some jealous tendencies. At the forefront, he does his best to be suave and gentlemanly, because he recognizes that jealousy is not an attractive trait for most people. And surely, the better his behavior is, the more you’ll default to viewing him as an ally.

His words to your ears. Just the two of you.

But… Do you really have to spend so much time with this newest friend of yours? You’ve hung out with them for three days straight now. The narrator feels… Well, itchy might be the best way to describe it. Something isn’t right.

You’re paying way too much attention to your friend, and not nearly enough to him. He should be enough for you, shouldn’t he? Surely if he just… He would prove it. He would prove that he was the correct choice.

First things first, he’ll distract you. Any time the subject of your friend comes up in a conversation, he quickly changes the subject. If you’re going out to see them, he will pull out every technique he has to try and make you late.

“Reader, look at this latest script I’ve written, it’s incredible! My genius knows no bounds.” or, “Darling, you look ravishing today. Come here, I must show you how much you mean to me.”

If you’re not careful, he’ll keep you wrapped in a story or his arms and you’ll either be late or a no show. Your new friend isn’t impressed.

The narrator also has a special talent for guilt tripping, though he doesn’t use it often. He’ll mope, and say things like. “Have fun with your friend… I hope you don’t forget about me while you make new memories with them… I’ll just sit here, in the dark, waiting for you to come home…” and other such statements.

He turns petulant. “What is it that I’m doing wrong? We belong to each other, we don’t need anyone else!”

You’re going to want to confront him eventually. The narrator’s a stubborn bastard, and if you’re not careful, it’s a slippery slope to a very codependent relationship.

“You know, narrator,” You begin, after another one of his attempts to keep you separated from your friend, “I’m kind of upset. I thought you believed in our relationship a bit more than you actually do. You clearly don’t have confidence in what we’ve been building together. You seem to have lost faith in me, in my ability and want to return to you again and again. It really hurts.” Who says the narrator’s the only one capable of guilt tripping?

The narrator freezes. A hot lump of coal sits in his chest, something painful and burning. You were right, of course. Desperation pushes him forward. “I- Alright, my ability to handle the situation is… Not the best.” You raise your eyebrows at him. He continues, “Just- I know I can be a bit much sometimes, but please, please don’t leave me. You’re all I have.”

Your heart softens towards the narrator. “I’m not planning on it. But you’ve got to get this under control. We both deserve a life outside of each other. I don’t really see you reaching out to meet new people, or develop relationships besides ours. This world is a beautiful, wonderful place, if you give it a chance. Why not branch out a little?”

The narrator really doesn’t want to. Your world is technically ‘open’, with no limitations on exploration, and no one there to wrap everything up. But he loves you so much, he’ll give it a try. Even though the thought of the two of you being separated gives him nausea.

You rub his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m not going anywhere. I will always return to you. I promise.”

#the narrator x reader #the stanley parable #tsp narrator #headcanon #tsp #answered ask #stanley parable #narrator #tsp narrator x reader

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

Text

Breakable Heaven | Chapter Six: Summer Job

18+

Summary: Spencer picks her up from work, treating her to something sweeter than ice cream

Warnings: love confessions, heart to heart with Aaron, First times, no condoms used, oral (fem receiving), face riding, squirting, creampies, angst at the end.

Word Count: 5.5K

Masterlist

a/n: shit goes down next week.

He knocks promptly at 8 am and all she does is groan.

“Come in?” Spencer answers for them.

He’s been laying completely still above the covers the whole night while she cuddled into him. She was so chatty before she fell asleep, she talked to him about everything and reminded him that she loved him every minute. Mostly after he said something that she found funny. He was genuinely concerned about how much she had to drink.

Aaron is relieved when he comes in to find Spencer fully clothed and above the sheets. “I brought you both some coffee,” he gives a slight smile and places them both on her nightstand.

“Thank you,” Spencer looks at him as neutrally as possible, trying to avoid all the shame and guilt he felt. “I’m sorry for—”

“Don’t,” Andy reaches up and places her hand over his face to shut him up.

Aaron laughs, “why?”

She sits up with a sigh, eyes still closed, she’s visibly pissed off. “I need you to stop being so loud.”

“Well, I also need some things from you,” Aaron takes a seat on the edge of her bed. “Both of you, actually.”

“Yes sir,” he sits up straighter and places his hands on his lap.

She reaches over him and grabs a cup of coffee, she cuddles into his side and rests her cheek on his shoulder when she’s not taking a sip.

“I know you’re both adults, and separately, I really trust you… together? I’m having a bit of a hard time. So the only logical and calm thing for me to do is set some ground rules to let you know what I’m comfortable with,” Aaron speaks as if he’s reading from a script.

Haley must’ve gotten to him.

“Whatever you want,” Spencer’s over-eager, tired of keeping secrets just to keep her.

“Can you be chill for 5 seconds,” she teases him with a straight face, too hungover for any other expression. She sighs, “what would you like, dad?”

“First, I want you to get a job… I think if you have something to do during the day you’ll feel more rewarded and that way you can afford your rent.”

“my What?” Her brows finally raise and he gets her full attention.

“Haley and I were talking and she thinks if you were to pay rent, a simple $50 every 2 weeks when you get paid, and then that way you can come and go as you please. I’m trading your curfew and the no boys in your room rule for a little more responsibility from you.”

“Yeah,” she nods, “just, promise me one thing?”

“Okay?” He’s skeptical.

“I want the rent I’m giving you to go into a savings account with a decent interest rate so that by the time he gets to college he’ll have a decent chunk of money,” she says firmly.

It was a tone that Spencer could never use with his boss, let alone his own father. He was a little shocked, and a little turned on to see her so dominant.

“That sounds very fair, and very responsible,” he agrees with a smile.

“Is there a kind of job I need to get?” She asks for the specifics of his rules.

He sucks his teeth and shakes his head, “nope, just something that gets you through the summer.”

“Okay good cause I’m not going back to the yogurt shop,” she jokes. “Is anyone at the FBI looking for an assistant for the summer?”

“I can ask around… or you could come to work with us today and ask yourself.”

She sighs, “okay, but I don’t have pants on, so, time to get out.”

Aarons starts to worry, but then again he knew that was how she usually slept and so he chilled himself down. “Okay,” he stood up and gave her a fake smile. “I’ll see you downstairs, I plan to leave in 30 minutes and Spencer's car better not be in the way.”

“It won’t be,” Spencer answers for himself, “I’ll go now too.”

“Noo,” she grabs his arm and doesn’t let him go, “I’ll ride in with Spence, I just need a few minutes to change.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” he presses his lips together in a disappointed smile. “Love you, moon pie.”

She giggles, he hasn’t called her that since she was really little. “Love you, too.”

He closes the door behind himself and then they’re alone. Spencer takes the mug from her hand and puts it back on the night table so that he could lunge at her and kiss the crap out of her.

She laughs against his lips as her head hits the pillows. She cups his face in her hands and kisses him back with passion and love… so much love.

He pulls away and hovers over her, staring into her eyes, “do you remember everything from last night?”

She nods, pink with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay, I’ve wanted to scream that I love you for a long time now too,” he admits with a sweet smile. “I love you very much, Andrea Hotchner.”

“It only sounds good when you say it,” she teases so she doesn’t cry. She's hungover, emotional, and overwhelmed. “I’m really glad I didn’t fuck everything up last night.”

“Me too,” he teases her back and leans in for another kiss but she pushes him back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, I’m surprised you even wanted to come get me after I ignored you for a few days.”

He sits up and pulls her back up too, “you had every right to stop talking to me, I got you in trouble with your dad… and I knew because he was mad at me at work, I’ve done so much paperwork I feel hungover with this headache.”

“Oh my god, really?” She keeps her voice down and carefully touches his face, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how he figured it out?”

He looks at her with a brow raised, “really?”

“What?”

“From the moment he interrupted our conversation at the banquet I think he knew this was going to happen,” he can’t help but laugh, “we’re not subtle. And he’s a Hotchner, too.”

She knew he wasn’t wrong. “And I kinda told him I thought you were really cute that day I brought his lunch in…”

“Really?” He feels his heart beat faster, he felt childish getting butterflies but it also made him thankful that real love felt so free.

She nods, “and he, being a Hotchner, translated that to ‘you want to take his virginity, don’t you?’ And I couldn’t say no,” she whispers, leaning in closer and kissing his cheek again.

“Is there anything embarrassing he hasn’t told you about me yet?” He asks, disappointed that his reputation in her home was ‘the nerdy virgin who can't shoot his way out of a paper bag’ when he thought the world of her.

“It’s a dream of mine,” she admits, “if I didn’t have to get ready to leave, like right now, I’d want to make it come true right here with you.”

“My hands are tied here, angel,” he whispers, “we made a deal with your dad.”

“He said boys are allowed in my room?”

“And I respect him too much to lose my virginity in his daughter's room when I need to move my car out of his way and get to work by 9,” he’s assertive, letting her know where he stands and where he wants to stay in her dad's books. “He’s not just my boss, he’s the father of the woman I love the most in the entire world. I can’t fuck that up.”

“I fucking love you,” she wraps her arms around him and holds him close, “never change.”

“You made me this way, so in a way, I am changed since getting to know you,” he whispers against her hair and then kisses the side of her head.

—

The ride into Quantico was quiet. She had a second cup of coffee and a large bottle of water inside her purse, feeling like she was a zombie she was so hungover, but she needed to do this.

She was dressed in a nice pantsuit, hair still nice from the night before and the same makeup just slightly touched up after sleeping in it. She probably looked the way she felt, but Spencer kept just saying she looked beautiful.

They walk into the bullpen holding hands and slowly, but surely, all eyes are on them.

She walks him to his desk with a smile, he’s in the same outfit from the night before and it looks suspicious, but she likes the looks they’re getting. People are starting to think, gears are turning, and theories are being made, but everything is confirmed when she kisses his cheek, “you have a good day at work, okay, baby?”

He nods with a smile, “I have lunch at 11:45 if you want to have it with me?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile as she looks into his big brown eyes, in heels she was the same height as him, she didn’t need to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him this time.

He places a hand on her cheek and kisses her right on the lips, “I love you, good luck out there.”

“Thank you,” she blushes, she didn’t think he’d say that so publicly, but it makes her proud. Proud to be his. “I love you too,” she gives him one more kiss and then she breaks away.

If she didn’t leave now, she never would. She just gives him a wave and starts her walk back towards the glass doors, she looks back at him one last time with a smile, and then she’s gone.

She smiles the whole way down the hallway to Penelope’s office, she goes to knock but it's wide open as she has her morning coffee with Derek.

“Good morning,” she’s awfully cheerful now for a hungover woman. “You missed a show in the bullpen…”

“What? Someone flirt with you in front of your dad?” Derek attempts to tease her.

“I kissed an agent I’m in love with in front of everyone,” she recounts with a smirk.

He laughs, “okay, and President Bush is coming in later too, right?”

“Go ask anyone in there, Elles probably losing her mind right now…”

“Poor Spence,” Penelope frowns, “I mean, I’m happy for you that you found someone, but I thought he had a little crush on you…”

“Oh, he does… but he’s also in love with me, and I told everyone in there that I love him back.”

Derek laughs until he realizes how serious she is and it tapers off, “… I’m sorry, what?”

She nods with a cheeky smirk, “you walked in on Spencer slapping my ass after making out in the garden for 5 minutes, did you really think Spencer made a joke about you?”

“I— but— I— no??”

She laughs, “exactly.”

“I gotta go,” he basically runs down the hallway, and she swears she hears him yell, “MY MAN!” From inside the bullpen.

“I’m so happy for you,” Penelope wraps her up in a hug, “what else are you doing here, besides dropping off your boyfriend?”

“I’m trying to find a summer job,” she explains as she pulls away, “I have a copy of my resume on a USB, do you think you could print off a few for me?”

“No need,” she waves her off, “I need an assistant, Anderson just put a listing up for me, if you get to him quick he can take it down before anyone applies.”

“Seriously?”

Penny nods, “yeah, now that we have more members and the teams getting more funding, I need a few extra hands and you’re basically a genius too, why not?”

She gets bashful at the compliment, “I wouldn’t say genius when Spence is just down the hall, but I think I can do it.”

“I know you can.”

And so she ran back to the bullpen and found Anderson, he took the job listing down and she made her way right up to HR to start her security clearance and get herself all settled for a job with the FBI.

Working with Spencer was going to be interesting… working with her own father, however, that was going to be a piece of cake. At least she kept telling herself that to hopefully make it true.

—

He doesn’t say much on the way home, as if he thinks that not talking means there isn’t a problem.

He was having a problem with her working for them while also dating Spencer.

“You know, HR was really okay with me and Spencer dating, cause I’m not an agent, I’m technically a temp, they can let me go at any time and I’m not here long anyway, which means that it’s not a conflict of interest if you were worrying about Strauss getting on your case.”

“I wasn’t, but thank you for the explanation… I can tell you’ve been spending a lot of time with Spencer.

She nods, “yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to make it work before you knew, I thought if I could get to love me then you couldn’t scare him away… and then I fell in love with him.”

“I heard,” he doesn’t seem too happy for her. “I just wish it was you who told me, not Anderson.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighs, “it’s okay, but I’d like you to know from here on out, that you can tell me anything.”

“He wants to meet mom,” she wants to cry again as she says it. “He knows she’s gone, but he said he wants to still go to Virginia Beach to nan and pops so he can see the urn and tell her that even though she’s watching over me, he’s on her team. He said he’s never going to hurt me.”

“Wow,” he seems choked up too. “I didn’t know you two were so serious?”

She nods, “I didn’t expect it either, but he’s wonderful, dad. I know you see him as this know-it-all, ass-kissing dork that knows more than you and can be a bit annoying… but he’s also everything I’ve ever wanted in a man and then some. He makes me feel very safe, I know I’m loved, he makes me feel truly pretty and wanted, not just fawned over… he likes me for me.”

“That’s all I could ever ask for,” he reaches out for her hand and gives it a good squeeze.

She holds it the rest of the way home, letting him soak in the father-daughter time while he still could. She knew this was hard for him, it’s exactly why he called her moon-pie. His mom started it, she was too sad to be called it after her nanny passed away, so she hasn’t heard it in years, but it meant he was missing that time of her life.

Back when she wanted to be held all the time, back when she fell asleep in his arms and needed him to kiss all of her boo-boos better. Even though he was getting a second child to go through all that with soon, he still missed that part of their life together.

“Thanks for everything, dad,” she smiles. “I don’t think I ever said that for everything you’ve done and gone through for me… for us. Jack's really lucky that this is the place we're in when he enters the world, he’s going to be such a happy kid.”

“I’m glad we’re talking like this again,” he lets himself show some emotion to her as a tear sneaks down his cheek. “I’ve missed my little girl.”

“I’ve missed her too,” she admits. “I grew up too fast, to be honest, it’s why I snuck out last week.”

“Were you serious about sleeping with Spencer in his car?”

“Yes, but as in we fell asleep in the back after star gazing in Gideon's back yard,” she admits. “I haven’t slept with him yet… he’s still a virgin and he didn’t want his first time to be in his car and—

“And?” He’s invested. “You’re an adult, I need to accept it. I was having sex at 14, I can’t be so prudish with you after that.”

She laughs, “well, I had sex in college with this guy who was really, really selfish…”

“Oh… well fuck that guy,” he tries to react like a friend. “Did you tell Spencer that?”

She nods, “yeah, and so now it’s his mission basically to make sure our first time together is something special.”

“I can respect that,” he’s genuinely proud of them. “You’re still on the pill, right?”

She nods, “and we’ll use condoms,” she assures him. But she doesn’t truly mean it.

Not after the dirty talk, she had with Spencer on the phone…

“If we don’t have a case this weekend, you should spend it with him,” he offers. “I know you don’t need my permission anymore, but, you don’t have to lie about where you’re going ever again. Have a good time while you’re still young.”

He pulls onto their street then, it wouldn’t be long till she could go back to her room and get in bed and call Spencer. “Thank you, I’ll see if he wants to do something… I really appreciate you being so cool about this, I’m sure it’s not easy.”

“You’re my best friend,” he admits, “I know it should be Haley, but you’ve been my little buddy since I first held you in the hospital. As your father, I want to protect you, as your best friend, however, I know Spencer’s the best person to care for you when I can't.”

He arrives at their front gate then, he rolls his window down and types in the code so they can continue home. When they come to a stop he takes off his seat belt and turns to her, “I love you very much, Andy, and if Spencer loves you even half as much as I do, then I know you’re in good hands.”

She takes her seatbelt off and pulls him into a hug, one that spoke louder than any words she could’ve offered him.

—

The next night when they get off work they go right to dinner at her favourite spot in town, it was a little diner called Queens that offered the best food from all around the world. She had fun picking different meals together every time she went with her dad, and now Spencer got to experience it too.

And on the way back to Spencer’s house, where she stayed for the whole weekend unless they had a case, they got some ice cream. He always paid, they ate in his car and talked about their days and then the festivities started.

His lips are still cold from his frozen treat, blue from the flavouring, adding a carton feel to being cold, but she doesn’t stop him on his way down. It’s too hot already, and it’s only the beginning of July… his cold lips and freezing tongue are actually quite refreshing.

Her teal dress shirt was discarded somewhere in his living room, her pants are by the bedroom door, and her bra is barely hanging off the end of the bed, leaving her in just her panties.

He rests his hands on her knees as he spreads her legs apart, tracing down towards her aching core with the tips of his fingers, his touch like oxygen igniting her embers, sending a red flame roaring through her, she wanted so much more of him.

“Are we doing this?” She asks.

He nods, “I’d like to, would you?”

She sits back up and starts helping him unbutton his shirt, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first, Spencer.”

“Would you mind if I took a few minutes to light some candles?”

She shakes her head, brushing her hands down his bare chest on her way to his belt. “I don’t mind, this is your night, remember.”

“Our night,” he corrects her, “I want it to be memorable for you too.”

She smiles, gently looking up into his eyes, “I’m so glad we waited… seriously Spence, no matter what happens, this is going to be the best night of my life.”

He cups her face in his hands and kisses the tip of her nose, “get comfortable, I’ll just be a second.”

She sits with her back against the headboard, hands over her boobs as she hides her exposed skin. She was only slightly nervous, he’s seen her naked a few times before but that was in the heat of the moment… this felt way more intimate as each candle was lit around his room.

He reaches into his nightside drawer and takes out a condom, “I bought these just the other day, promise.”

She laughs, easing the tension she was feeling, “you know, I was going to let you hit it raw, right?”

His cock stands tall in his boxers, twitching at the words she just said. His face, however, is frozen in shock. She giggles and kneels on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on his bare chest so she could see if his heart was beating as fast as hers. He was warm and he smelled good, she relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her, “are you serious?”

She nods, “I’ve been on the pill for over a year, I take it every morning at 11, I never miss it, there is no chance you’re going to knock me up.”

His hands slip down her back and cup her ass, tugging her in closer to his chest so their skin is touching, “but are you sure?”

She nods, “I gave my virginity to a guy who didn’t deserve it, not like you… I want to give you everything, all of me. I’m yours now, Spencer.”

His bottom lip quivers, “I love you,” he whispers, trying not to cry and making her tear up too.

She cups his face in her hands, “I love you, so much.”

He kisses her, hard, on the lips, with more passion, love and lust than he’s ever possessed for her before. He lays her back against the bed as his kisses head south. She lifts her hips so he can slip her panties off and spread her legs apart. He has a better view this time, instead of the darkness of his backseat, she was illuminated by candlelight.

He dropped to his knees on the floor, he was just tall enough to drag her hips to the edge of the bed and come face to face with her pussy. He licks his lips and wraps his arms around her thighs.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she teases him. She reaches forward and runs her fingers through his hair, pulling his face in closer once she gets a good grip on his roots.

“Mm, maybe next time,” he mumbled, breath hot against her aching core as he got closer and closer.

Her grip tightens when she feels his wet tongue on her, she always knew it would feel amazing but Spence blew every expectation out of the water. Ever since last week when his lips first met her clit and his tongue fucked her hole, she knew she was a changed woman.

Nothing was ever going to compare to the absolute euphoria of being brought to orgasm by Spencer Reid's exquisite mouth.

She lets herself be loud, enthusiastically grinding against his face while he mins against her skin, “fuck, baby, oh my god…”

The sounds of him slurping and sucking on her skin with a pop, the sounds are so dirty it shouldn’t be as fucking hot as it is, she needs to see him more than anything. She pulls his face back by his hair, his mouth, nose and chin all glistening with her nectar.

“What?” His lips are swollen and his eyes blown so wide you’d never know they were brown. They were so dark with lust that it excited her.

“You’re so hot when you’re all messy like this,” she groans, combing his hair back out of his face and guiding him up towards her for a kiss.

She tastes herself on him, moaning into his mouth in agreement that she did taste good. Without any words, she gets him onto the bed and lays on his back, the kissing only stops as he guides her up his body and has her sit on his face so he could really use all of himself to get her off.

She was a bit embarrassed by how wet she was, but she didn’t care as soon as he started tongue fucking her again. The tip of his nose rubbing against her clit, his hands stretched her cheeks apart and guided her hip movements. He wanted to suffocate under her, happy to have "death by pussy" on his headstone.

She was so close, that all too familiar feeling in her gut was too strong to hold back, more powerful than ever before, she cums with such force she can’t even make a sound. She grips the headboard for support and quakes over top of him, making the whole frame shake and smack the wall with a rhythmic knock.

Spencer is a moaning mess under her, mumbling profanities and encouragement as she rode the feeling out on his face. She when was too fucked out to do anything more she lifted herself onto wobbly knees and backed up, sitting on his stomach gently instead, she noticed just how big of a mess she made. Down his neck, pooled by his shoulders and darkening the light green pillow, she realized she did more than just cum, she squirted over him and he was so proud of her for it. He runs his hands up and down her thighs, “fuck, angel…”

She reached over for some tissues and starts to clean him up a bit, “didn’t know you could do that?”

“Me either,” she blushes, embarrassed to be called out for it. “I’ve never sat on anyone's face before that…”

“Challenge accepted,” he teases. “I’m going to do that every chance I get, now.”

She giggles, still floating in the post-orgasm bliss while her body twitched and settled back down. “And I’m here all weekend…”

She back up off him even further and rests at the foot of the bed, “you have more bedsheets right?”

He nods, “and pillows… these are toast.”

She hides her face in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was the best thing to happen in his bed so far,” he sits up, cock aching to be freed in his boxers. Tented and soaked with a growing wet spot, she couldn’t wait to have him inside of her.

She reaches into his underwear and pulls his cock out, stroking it a few times before he gasps and begs her to stop, “I need like 2 minutes to cool down so I don’t cum the second I get inside of you.”

Her whole body lights up at the thought of that. Something about him being so helplessly horny for her, so bewitched by her feminine wiles that he finishes before they can even get started... She moans, it’s more like a purring than anything, “that would be so hot…”

He laughs, “you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He gets off the bed and pushes his boxers to the floor and walks toward the bathroom door.

“I’m being serious.”

“Okay,” he still doesn’t believe her when he comes back with a towel to wrap around a pillow and place under her head at the foot of the bed.

“I like knowing I can do that to you,” she whispers, spreading her legs as she lays back and waits for him to crawl between them again.

“Why’s that?” He asks getting between her legs and resting his chest against hers.

She wraps her legs around him and keeps him there, “cause you don’t just want me as a notch on your bedpost, you desire me in a way that makes you desperate for any part of me… can’t a girl enjoy being loved?”

He pulls back enough to look between their bodies and line up with her entrance, “is that what this is? Making love?”

Tightening her grip on him she helps him push inside for the first time ever, she makes the most beautiful shocked gasp he’s ever heard, he’s the biggest she’s ever had, which wasn’t a long list. “Yes, Spencer, it is…”

He stays completely still, completely inside of her as he hovers there. He brushes her hair out of her face and cups her cheek, “thank you, for being my first.”

She pulls him in for a kiss, otherwise, she’d cry and she really didn’t want to ruin it. He starts to move his hips as the kiss gets more intense, moaning into each other’s mouths while their tongues became reacquainted.

His pubic bone kept grinding against her clit, adding more friction between them, bringing the inferno inside of her back to a blaze. He broke the kiss to suck on her neck, one hand playing with her boob as his kisses went south and his hips sped up. He flicks her nipple piercing with his tongue, groping her other breast with his free hand, she could feel him from every angle, he was everywhere. She felt like his, officially.

“Oh, Spence,” she gasped, unable to breathe the closer she got, she tried to fight it long enough to cum with him, while he tried his hardest to wait for her.

“Cum for me,” he whispers just below her ear, reaching between them to push her legs up so he could fuck into her with more force. “I know you can do it, come on, angel.”

She tosses her head back with a high-pitched moan, “please, please,” she chants, knowing she’s allowed to cum but wanting him to get her there faster.

With a few fingers, he rubs her clit fast and hard, making her scream as she came again, tightening around him as her body twitched with pleasure. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he drops to her chest and wraps his arms around her, he ruts into her faster and faster and then stills with a shutter.

It’s so warm inside of her, she wraps her arms and legs around him and for some reason, she starts to cry.

She had all of him now, just like he had all of her.

He sniffles too as he kisses the side of her neck, “thank you.”

She kisses his sweaty forehead and then rests her cheek against it, “thank you, baby.”

He squeezed her a bit tighter, “I love you…”

“I love you too.”

—

They walk into work on Monday happier than ever before, holding hands between them and carrying coffee cups in the other. They didn’t care that everyone was watching them, or that everyone was talking, it was nice to know that they could still impress people at the FBI, being as young and talented as they were.

They head right into the bullpen, up the stairs and into the briefing room where they find the rest of the team.

There’s a big blue banner that says congratulations, there are donuts in the middle of the table and they all cheer as soon as they walk in. Penelope has gotten each team member a confetti popper, they launch in their direction as soon as the team sees them enter the room. “Wooo!!!”

“What the heck is this for?” Andy asks, confused as all hell.

“Spencer lost his virginity!” Derek cheers, not caring that he just embarrassed Spencer beyond his wildest dreams. He drops her hand and rushes out of the room.

“Hey!” Andy shouts at Derek, “that’s not cool, I will go to HR about this, I don’t give a fuck how long you’ve been working here, this is work place harassment and I won’t stand for it.”

“I’m sorry—

“You should be. Spencer is different than you, we all are. Just because you had no problem being a whore as soon as you hit puberty doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with him or that he’s behind. And you don’t know ANYTHING about what he’s been through before me, so next time, keep it to yourself.”

She takes a step towards the door and then turns back to them, "when you take all this down, we’ll be back. For. Work.”

She rushes out of the room to find Spencer, she had no idea where he went, Anderson sees her panic as she looks around for him, so he points towards Gideons office. She hurries up the stairs and towards his slightly open office door only to hear the worst thing imaginable.

“I thought I told you not to date her?”

“We’re not dating,” he tells Gideon. “We’re just sleeping together.”

Her heart shatters to the floor in a million little pieces.

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