#high school sweethearts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrollohearttags · 4 months

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AU where y/n and producer eren were very much high school sweet hearts, then years later deciding to take their relationship to the next level as in losing their virginity 🙃

ANONNN, why’d you do me like thissss?? This is genius 😫 not even to spoil but this was literally the alternate plot line to reverb LSLFKFJ. Ugh this is just too damn cute so ofc imma talk about it.

content + themes: both reader and eren are virgins, reverb spoilers, lots of sweet stuff, bc I can’t handle angst rn, gentle sex/smut, accidental cream pie, this is SUPERRRRR long bc y’all know I love detail and got 20,000 pages of lore for these two!! Smut is at the end so if ya’ll can’t wait, I’m sorry.

eren left home at what would be considered incredibly young by most standards. At fifteen years old, he found himself frequenting the mall and playing basketball down at the local park in the suburbia of Montclair, New Jersey to being thrust into the fast paced lifestyle of Miami, Florida. The harsh, crime ridden town known as Opa Locka to be exact. A complete contrast by a long shot. Even so, with spite and determination on his heart; fueled only by his desire to win this illustrious battle called the rap game, he toughed it out and persevered. Not only that, to rid himself of the toxic past that had scarred him and a family who betrayed him. Make no mistake, his ‘privileged’ upbringing was nothing more than a mere experience and not a part of his identity. He never tried to pretend that he was ‘hard’ or tough, no need for a facade, he was simply Eren and that was all it took. He also never viewed anyone as different or beneath him because of how he grew up. Most of his friends back home came from very humble beginnings and had less than savory lifestyles. It wasn’t something he did for shock value or to piss of his parents. He just always had a knack for befriending others who may have been cast aside or forgotten about because he knew the feeling quite well. So it came as no surprise when he enrolled in the local high school to finish out his last couple years, he was a rarity in these parts…looking and acting completely different from everyone else. But it didn’t take long for the green eyed brunette with the buttery smooth voice and oblivious charm to assimilate.

“Wassup, EJ?” “Hey, EJ!”

from the classroom to the hallways, he was greeted by his fellow student body, who at first, saw him as an easy target. Alluding to the fact that he must’ve been some rich boy stuck in the middle of the hood to be “taught a lesson” or something of the sort. That it wouldn’t be two weeks because he was tucking tail and getting his ass back on the first bus to Jersey. Little did they know, he was the last person to back down and damn sure the last one to run from anyone! During gym class, there was a scrimmage basketball game, nothing too serious or exerting, just a little fun competition. It was then that not only did Eren catch the eye of the boy’s team head coach and that of (y/n) (l/n). Who had been discreetly seated against the wall after running two miles. You had been quietly observing the game and having grown up around tremendous players; spending afternoons down at the Boys and Girls Club..you recognized talent from a mile away. That also could’ve been attributed to the fact that you were the current co-captain of the majorette team, where you danced during games. Even so, you always stayed to yourself. Never really clinging to one group or another, truthfully only talking to your best friend. Your head in a book and studying was your only focus. That much was apparent by your four point two grade point average. Nonetheless, this new boy couldn’t help but to grab your attention. It was unfortunately for that reason, that his opponents once the game ended, would use that to his advantage.

not exactly keen on the idea of having somebody like him strutting around..besting them in a sport they’d always exceeded at and intriguing the girls who never even so much as paid them attention, they were pissed! So as anyone with stunted emotional maturity would, they decided to try and ambush the new student in the locker room. Granted, he was a little smaller and had just hit six foot one inches. He was fairly tall but still lanky and skinny. So he’d have his work cut out for him. Unsuspecting of the attack, he chopped it up with classmates and laughed on his way back. But not without flashing you a glance first. That ultimately made your heart flutter a little..you didn’t pay attention to boys often and had many speculating that you were possibly gay but no one had ever roused your fancy. In a way, you envied him. As someone from the proverbial ‘other side of the tracks’, who was different from you all in any facet was fitting in just fine! Quickly becoming the talk of the school. Meanwhile, you were a lifelong resident of this city and yet, you never drew any attention on yourself. Outside of your impeccable dancing. Hell, everyone always referred to you as ‘the quiet girl’. A moniker that you were proudly..the less you spoke, the less trouble you could find yourself in.

however, that peaceful life would come to an end when you’d walk towards the girls locker room and find yourself stopped by the gaggle of guys who were planning their ambush for after school whilst he was walking home. They figured he’d be an easy lick but they couldn’t be too relaxed. He mystified them all..acting completely oblivious to his environment, never behaving differently; talking exactly the same and all or even seeming afraid. He was the same person regardless of where he went. So that’s when they’d try to enlist your help. “Aye, (y/n). Lemme talk to you right quick..” waving you over and although you were about to ignore him, you accepted anyway. A tall dread head with a bottom row of golds gleaming from his mouth. Something he wasn’t supposed to have but did anyways. “I seen you looking at jit earlier, you like white boy, don’t you?” Immediately feigning any sort of confirmation. Acting uninterested as always. “That’s what you called me over here for? I gotta go change—“ but before you could coldly turn on your heel, he’d grab your shoulder and request a ‘simple’ favor:

“Help us set his ass up. He ain’t been here a whole month and already actin’ like he run this shit. We’ll even give you a cut.” but again, you didn’t care! Him or any of their petty jealousy was none of your concern. That boy hadn’t said the first word to you or even bothered you in the slightest. The hell did you look like conspiring with these dumbasses to not only bully him but to tarnish your hard work? Smacking your lips, you’d merely brush his hand away and continue to walk by. “As my granny says, you can’t get blood from a turnip. If you wanna risk jail for some stupid shit, do it by yourself. I’m not interested.” truthfully, Eren was no more wealthy than anybody here. Working odd jobs after school and rooming at a boys home on the southside. Hell, he could barely even afford lunch sometimes!

but alas, this only seemed to enrage your peers. See, the ring leader was the current basketball team captain and a shoe-in for first draft to a top college once he graduated. However, there was another side of him..a hothead with a bit of a past. Selling drugs and hanging with bad crowds..a mere product of the environment. But basketball was his ticket out. Hence was, considering that he stayed in trouble, grades were a wreck and he had a bad reputation. It was his exceptional skill that was keeping him in his spot and that alone. The coach overlooked a lot of his antics just to have a star player. Nothing new. However, with Eren on the scene, his position was threatened. Contrary to his belief, it had less to do with his skin and the fact that he was a better player with less of a headache! He had better grades, better manners and a lot more skill. Teachers constantly complained to the coach to kick him off the team so he could focus on his academic studies. Several calls were made home with no answer from parents..it was a crazy situation. Even so, it was no excuse for his behavior. Almost everyone here came from hard circumstances, he just loved acting this way!..especially when it came to preying on the weaker..

“Oh I see, you gon’ take his side but not mine? You green as hell, (y/n). Some ol’ weird ass shit, bruh. You really not tryna’ help me?…” even getting closer, despite your pushback. “Darius, imma tell you one more time. Leave me alone. Ion want no parts of this. It’s not my business.” But before you could do anything else, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back. A cliche if you had ever seen or experienced one. But just as the old time tale went, your knight and shining armor would swoop in to defend your honor.

“I think she said leave her alone.”

a familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard often but enough to recognize. The reason behind this whole ordeal..

“Wasn’t nobody talking to you. Mind your business.” “This is my business. Putting your hands on a girl..I see your sorry ass jump shot ain’t the only thing that’s weak.”

which only pissed him off even further. Long story short, he’d attempt to pick a fight with the ever so sly Eren but to no avail. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not out of fear but because he wasn’t worth the energy. Eren was a bit of a hothead, even admitting so himself. However, he couldn’t afford to screw up right now. Getting into unnecessary fights would only put him in an even worse situation..especially for the people caring for him. He had done that once and wasn’t about to let it happen again. “(Y/N), right? That’s your name?..” answering him with a nod. “Don’t worry about him. You go ahead, beautiful. He won’t do anything..I can promise you that.” Standing toe to toe with the taller bully. His cheeks puffed up and fuming in rage. Meanwhile, Eren wore nothing but a smirk. He could fume all he wanted but as long as he didn’t put his hands on him. If he took it there, then he’d be glad to show him why trying him wasn’t wise..

luckily, the coach noticed the bubbling scuffle and told them to break it up. Fast forward a few days, give or take and you’d see Eren around campus. Always carrying a pair of headphones and a notebook. Two things he’d never be caught without. One thing was for sure, he was an intriguing dude for sure..you’d eventually find yourselves paired up for a project and needless to say, you were incredibly nervous. Mainly because neither of you had spoken since that day in the gym. It wasn’t for a lack of you being thankful, you just didn’t know what to say. That was until you were in the library doing research together and you’d blurt out your gratitude, along with your apology. Which made him laugh! “What are you thanking me for? He only did that because of me. If anything I should apologize to you.” He was so respectful and bashful, qualities you truly admired. Although he remained shrouded in mystery, he was fascinating and you wanted to know more about him and turns out, you’d learn a pretty interesting tidbit of information! “You have a point. I mean, are you really planning to take his spot as captain though—“ which only further fueled his hysterics. He’d double over laughing and all you could do was give him a look of confusion. “Why are you laughing? I ain’t that funny.” “I’m sorry. I just..listen, I don’t know what you were told but I don’t want his spot. Basketball’s fun, it’s sum’ to do but I already know what I want.” And his answer would shock you, truly. See, Eren had always had an affinity for music. Singing, playing all sorts of instruments since he was a little kid and recently, he’d taken to writing his own songs. That infamous notebook he carried? Filled with poems and songs about everything from basic lines to his deepest emotions. Spilling his heart onto the page as he talked about his family, his anger towards his father and even the loss of someone he held dear to him. Sometimes, they weren’t about him at all..they were just vivid portrayals of elusive tales. He obviously had quite the story to tell but he couldn’t do it or even have the time shooting balls into a hoop. He told the coach he’d consider but his true goal?

“You wanna be the drum major?!” “Yeah, why not? I mean, I know it’s prolly lame but it’s one of my favorite instruments. It was the first one I learned..to me, the drum line is the highlight of the game. They make it entertaining.”

but little did he know, he had piqued your interest for sure! You were so flustered you tried to feign it off but he was too freaking cute! Here you were expecting this athletic, cocky playboy who only cared about girls and being popular but he was so much more than you expected! A nerd just like you. And you knew so for the fact that you’d never held a conversation with a man longer than to give them the answer to a question or let them borrow a textbook. He was so captivating. But perhaps, getting to do incredible solos at halftime wasn’t his only motivation to join the school music program. He had other reasons as well..

“Besides..I would actually get to see you perform. I call it a win.” Causing you to scoff, dismissing his seemingly perverted comments.. “Oh, so you just like everybody else.” but the tension was misplaced. He admired your craft and respected it. Seeing you doing your moves while walking past the gym on his way home, how hard you worked and just overall how graceful you looked. Not to mention, you were drop dead gorgeous! The prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.. “..I seen you practicing the other day and you’re really good, (y/n). You’re completely different when you’re dancing. You seem really happy..I mean, you make the dance team from my school back home look like stiff ass robots.” Earning his first giggle out of you. From that day forward, a beautiful friendship blossomed..studying together, eating lunch in the library, walking home with you as his group home wasn’t far away, sneaking into the chorus room so you could hear him playing the piano and singing. A privilege reserved strictly for you. Making you sob when you heard his rendition of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Ribbon In The Sky.’ He was so kind, sweet and it didn’t take long before rumors of you guys dating began to permeate through the school. Hallway whispers of you ‘going with that new boy’. It was all the rave. It didn’t help matters any when at the mention of each other’s names, you’d both freeze up like popsicles! It was adorable, really. A budding crush that would soon bloom into something far more than just a platonic bond. After about six months into his arrival at your school, Eren had undoubtedly made a name for himself for not only his basketball skills but his musical ones as well. He had made good on his promise to join the band and make his first step toward becoming drum major. Because the band and majorette team often performed together, you’d be together at practice also and eventually, became inseparable. Flashing you smiles and watching intently while you performed your solos. Him joining proved to be a great addition to an already powerful band because he was so talented and kept up quite nice. In no time flat, he mastered the quads and studied underneath the current drum major, playing at games. Even when he decided to cave and accept the offer to join the basketball team, he had the pleasure of seeing you dance during intermission and even greeting him after the game with a giant hug. You in your shimmering leotard and him in his drenched basketball uniform.. number nineteen printed on the back.

“You looked good out there, princess.” A name he affectionately called you because your team’s competitive name were the Crowned Royalty as your school mascot were knights. And because you often times outshined the reigning captain, you were dubbed “The Princess.” Besides, it sounded so much better coming from him. “Nah, that was all you, Mr. Star Player.” It didn’t take long before he’d do the one thing everyone had been waiting on and ask you to be his girlfriend! With encouragement from his teammates and homeboys, Connie Springer and Onyakopon. They too treated you like a little sister, always teasing you and making sure you were good in Eren’s absence. “You one of us so we gotta make sure you good.” They all worked together at a local shoe store and stayed only three houses down from one another so they spent a lot of time together. In addition to their shared passion and talent with music. Granted, neither of you had experience with dating or having many friendships for that matter but it felt so natural when you were around each other. His cheeks flushed with red the entire time he held your hand on the way to class. Your entire body trembling when he kissed your forehead because you were too scared to kiss on the lips at the time. Even sitting next to him and his friends at lunch was an experience. Listening to them freestyle and make beats. Your best friend Niesha, right beside you, teasing you about how cute your man was and how you’d gotten lucky. And all you could do was shake your head. Eventually, all five of you became thick as thieves. Hanging out after school, going roller skating on weekends when practice permitted and just stayed in your own little bubble. You loved it so much. It was the first time you’d ever had a friends’ group, a true support system.

your grandmother and sole caretaker since you were a kid was absolutely thrilled to see it. Although you called her your best friend, she was happy to see you coming home excited to tell her about something besides a book or your report card. As proud as she was of her baby, she wanted you to experience life. Often times, she’d invite all of them over and cook you all large meals that were nothing short of heaven! Repayment for the boys coming by to mow the grass or help with repairs. They were more than thrilled to do it. “My future grandson in law is a nice young man, ain’t he?” A statement you’d brush off with a smack of your lips. “Cut it out, granny. Ain’t even like that.” She adored Eren and when she learned that he could sing, knowing a few gospel songs as well..she all but claimed him now! He was family and you were so glad that he was in your life. A likewise feeling because for once, he felt as if he belonged. One night, while meeting at your usual spot in the park, high on top of a jungle gym where you’d gaze under the stars, you’d ask him one thing:

“You ever thought about what you want to do with your life?”

and to him, that answer was simple. “..I wanna change the world.”

a dream he’d held onto for as long as he could remember. He loved music more than anything and he wanted his to transcend any genre, any one archetype. He wanted what he created to someone’s reason for living, someone’s inspiration to keep going even when things got dark. He wanted it to put smiles on the faces of people who listened..he didn’t care about awards or being some mega celebrity, he just wanted to pour his heart into what he made and hoped somebody heard his passion.

“And I want you right beside me…(y/n). I don’t wanna do any of this without you.” Clutching your hand atop the structure. He had never been this vulnerable or open with anyone in his life but now was a good of time as any to start.. “..I know everybody prolly thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid who left home just to piss off my folks. Honestly, their opinions stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago..my mom, I love her so much and I really do miss her. I hope one day I can step to her as a man and apologize for putting her through so much. Making her worry about me…” as he spoke, you could feel the tension in his hand as he squeezed yours. This was the first time he’d spoke in detail as to why he was alone down here in such a dangerous city when he by all accounts lived lavishly back home. “I just couldn’t stay..not when my own old man is a fucking coward. I know it’s a long shot but at least I can stand on it. Him? He’ll sell his soul for a dollar. I could never be under the same roof as someone like that. I will do this and I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll make a way for myself so I never have to depend on anybody ever again.” You couldn’t help but to feel that you were missing part of the story but maybe it was something far too traumatizing to hash out in detail right now so as you’d always done, you’d support him. Cradling your arms around him with a giant hug before kissing his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Eren. I promise. I know you’ll make it and I wanna be right there by your side. I love you.” “I love you too, (y/n).” Words that sounded insane from a teenager but you meant it. Meant it more so than anything you’d ever said! Some people would say you were too young to know what you wanted but you both knew that no matter what path you took, as long as you walked it together, you were unstoppable!

soon, graduation was right around the corner. You two attended prom together, even made homecoming king and queen and by all accounts, had an amazing senior year! You guys turned eighteen only a couple months apart and thus, were thrusted into adulthood. Working here and there to provide for yourselves all while chasing your dreams. You’d gotten accepted into the University of Miami on a dance scholarship and even though it was a huge opportunity..your heart was misplaced. You felt like another cog in the wheel and a moving piece on a machine. You’d love to dance your entire life but you wanted something more than this. Stiff eight counts and bland rehearsals. Something refreshing..that’s when you’d begin taking pole classes outside of school! An idea you came up with after seeing a popular dancer on Instagram and she looked so graceful..surrounded by plants with her beautiful afro as she swung around the pole. She looked so free!…you wanted to experience that joy too. It took no time at all for you to master the craft and just like that, your spark was reinvigorated. By this time, Eren was all but halfway to his own goal after going viral for singing in the store he worked at and still very much an important fixture in your life. He managed to catch the eye of one of the industry’s top executives and legendary musician herself, Vivian James. She was one of your grandmother’s favorites, despite being younger than her. This woman had a powerhouse of a voice and needless to say, Eren’s had her intrigued.

“You did it, ‘ren. I’m so proud of you, baby!”

although he hadn’t quite made it yet it was one hell of a start. It wouldn’t be easy but he was willing to put in every bit of the work it took to succeed. Having you there to encourage him would be all the strength he needed to keep going. But he wanted to support your dreams as well! He never wanted this relationship to be one sided. “What about you, princess? Do you really like dancing for the school? Are you happy?” If anyone could see through the facade, it was your boyfriend of almost three years. He saw how amazing you were when you did pole. It didn’t matter which avenue of dance you took, you excelled but he’d never seen you more happy than when you were twirling midair and doing all these crazy stunts. He wanted you to be safe, of course, but he wanted to find joy in something the way he did. “I just..I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing or what they expect of me. I loved majorette but pole is just so different. I have so much fun.” There it was, a glimmer in your eye that couldn’t be sated when you spoke about it. The rush you felt setter coming down from a death drop. Eventually, you’d go on to quit the dance team, forfeiting your scholarship but your grades alone afforded you many other grants and things so you’d do online classes while working for your uncle’s shop and practicing under his wing. Eventually you found the courage to upload yourself online and it wasn’t long before you reached your own bit of notoriety. Captivating thousands with not only your skills but your stunning looks. Eren always called you princess but honestly, you were like a divine being. A goddess and sometimes, not even he could believe you were real.

before either of you knew it, you were nearing twenty and your dreams were falling into place. It seemed as if the hard times and rainy days both of you had gone through were over. You were so ecstatic when he got his own place, after securing and successfully completing an audition with AMG. The biggest talent agency in the country. Along side his two best friends nonetheless and eventually asked you to move in with him. But it wasn’t the only proposal he had. No, there was something else he needed to ask you..so with trembling hands, tearful eyes and in the same empty park where you’d spend countless nights talking about your futures; surrounded by faux candlelight and roses, he’d ask the one thing you never thought you’d hear:

“Will you marry me, (y/n) (l/n)? Will you do this forever with me?”

and it was no question! The answer was yes, a million times over! That night, the two of you exchanged intense, heavy kisses and warm, inviting touches underneath the moonlight of your very first place. A one bedroom apartment but it didn’t matter. It felt like a castle; an unreal fantasy when you had him. You’d let him caress and run his hands along your body. Kissing and licking your neck on the frameless mattress as your nude bodies entangled in the white sheet covering them. Neither of you had ever done anything like this before and although you were nervous as all hell, you were ready. Ready to take this next step. When you were in school, so many other kids were already going the extra mile and some had even fallen pregnant by the time you graduated. But your love was so pure and innocent, sex seemed like a foreign concept. It was the furthest thing from your minds. You enjoyed being around each other. The feeling you derived just from when he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest with a kiss to your forehead. You never felt pressured to lose your virginity because you knew that a moment like this would make it all the more special and that he’d be the only one you’d share it with. So in that moment, Eren moved his tongue down your body, kissing and marking your neck with a trail of sloppy pecks. Your hands trailed up his back that had now been stamped with his first tattoo. His hair..that once tapered brown haired cut was dangling in front of your face as half of it remained tied into a bun. He had often dreamed about what this moment would consist of..how it would feel to be given the flower of his beloved. To ‘pop’ your cherry and have the honor of being your first and vice versa. Would he hurt you? Would he fuck it up? His only true goal was to know that you were feeling good. He didn’t want to sound like a weird degenerate but his only experience was through videos and his hand. And yours? He was scared! So terrified that you had to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe as he was trembling when he began to touch your sensitive center.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just us here…take your time. You’re doing so good..”

only backed up when he slowly circulated his fingers around on your clit and watched you writhe in pleasure. Whimpering and crying out his name. It was so slippery and juicy but he assumed that was a good thing from the way you rutted your hips and pushed down on the single digit that he put inside of you. “Oh my God…Eren that feels so good!..” “It does? I’m so glad, baby.. can I keep keep going, like that?” Watching you break into a smile as your eyes squeezed shut was as close to nirvana as he could get. He loved seeing you happy. Breathing heavier and begging for more when you added another and stimulated you even more. You were so incredibly tight that he was sweating bullets, wondering how he’d be able to fit inside of you. How could he top this moment?…carefully examining your body; that gorgeous skin, those perfectly round breasts that had grown exponentially since he’d first met you, dark nipples erect and drenched in his saliva as he kissed them softly and those curves that had only filled out in all the right places. He wanted to adore this beautiful body forever..make love to you until he perfected it. Until he could know every bump, line and curve that made up your frame. So much so that even in absence, you’d crave one another and no one else could ever fill that void. He wanted to love you with his eyes closed. To know every tick, every like, dislike and point that made you explode with pleasure. He wanted to be yours in flesh, mind and spirit until you both left this earth.

eventually, you’d find yourself squirming around in the sheets and with his fingers alone, you’d reach your very first orgasm! The feeling was so indescribable, you couldn’t even speak. Only curse and flail around, which he thought was so cute. Chuckling as he pulled you to his chest with a cooing tone. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. There you go, just let it out.” Embarrassed by the fact that you let out a gentle stream of liquid, thinking you had actually urinated but it was the furthest thing from. “Trust me, that’s not what happened. It’s okay, beautiful.” Neither of you even gave a damn. All you wanted was to experience him in his entirety. You’d look down and see that his cock was stiff. Swollen, thick and glowing red at the tip. You’d never seen one in real life but by comparison, it was huge and you were so scared, your knees pushed together and began to buckle as you swallowed a large gulp, wondering how you were supposed to take all of that inside of you… “..we can go slow. We don’t have to fit it all at once. You just let me know how much you can handle, okay baby?” Seemingly trying to console you when he was all but losing his mind. Slowly but surely, his tip would make place atop your overly sensitive slit. Splitting open your folds with that puffy mushroom tip. Bright red and dripping with cum..he was so ready to make you his. “Eren…” hearing the nervous yet needy quiver in your voice made him twitch on his own but he’d merely chuckle, reaching down to stroke your face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care you, okay princess? Here, hold my hands.” without hesitation, completing devoting yourself to him, you’d intertwine your fingers with his own as he integrated from the top to the inside of your warm center. Both of you broke into a high pitched gasp, never experimenting such a sensation before. It was truly like magic..

“Oh fuck..” the words escaping each of your lips as the same time, so much so, it made you and him break into a giggle. The realization of the moment setting on you both. “We’re actually doing this, huh?” “..yeah, but I wouldn’t want it with anyone else..” with that, he’d lean down and brush the side of your face as he began to buck his hips. “I’m gonna start moving, okay? You just let me know if I need to stop..” acknowledging his question with a nod, he’d persist forth and keep pushing. One slow stroke turned into two and before he knew it, he had established a rhythm. Being as gentle and doting as possible. That tight flesh sucking him in with each thrust but still not giving way..you’d squirm and whimper but all from pleasure. You’d claw at his sides and although your eyes were shut tight, you’d let him know that you were alright. Eventually, that room filled with soft cries and the two of you uttering each others names, along with lewd moans. “It’s..so good! Fuck…” “..please, keep moving..don’t stop, Eren.” Begging for more, despite the fact that his shaft had become coated in a very thin sheath of blood and a few tears trailed down your cheek. Signifying that he had finally unwrapped the gift that you’d waited so long for him to claim. The mattress began to jolt around and the floor underneath creaking from the sounds of your lovemaking. That red liquid soon replaced by a clear mucus and his dick nestled inside of you to the halfway mark. What felt like an eternity was in reality..only five minutes and already, he was about to tap out. Panting and breathing heavily as that pace sped up. His pattern was off kilter but he still had you clawing for the sheets, screaming his name. “Yes, baby! Right there, I can feel it again. I’m gonna—“ but before you could announce your own climatic peak, he’d beat you to the punch and without thinking or warning, he’d let out a loud cry, sobbing even and spouting expletives the entire time as a warm load filled your newly defiled cunt. He was in such shock, it didn’t even dawn on him until he’d look down and see it spilling out of you.

“I—shit. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I’m so sorry, (y/n)!” But it was fine. You trusted him so dearly, the two of you forgot any protection. Luckily, you had long been on birth control for reasons unrelated to sex so you weren’t scared. Besides, in that moment, all you knew was that you wanted more. You didn’t want this moment to cease for anything. “It’s okay, baby..I’m fine. Come here..” beckoning him towards you so you could get another one of those divine kisses. It was the best part. With you both having experienced that high for the first time, you didn’t want to come down so for the entire duration of that night, the two of you made love. Exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Laughing, kissing, touching and making blunders..the joy that could only come from true lovers. A long time coming certainly, but a moment nonetheless that was worth the wait. By the time you finished, you were both an emotional wreck. Crying but only out of pure rejoice. Having given yourself to the one man that you’d love for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Eren..”

“I love you more, (y/n)..”

and this time, there was no question, hesitation or doubt when those words were uttered. You were older now and for a flame that everyone was certain would die out, it was now burning brighter than ever.

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jiang-yanli-s-soup · 5 months

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Mdzs modern AU where teen Lan Wangji keeps voice recordings of himself confessing his love to Wei Wuxian, but never sends them. Wwx runs away from home & disappears for 13 years and Lwj searches for him while recording all his feelings. Maybe he keeps all of these recordings in an old MP3 player or something idk, and just, abandons it in his old house when his family moves into a new big one. And maybe one day coincidentally Wwx moves into the same house, finds the player and finds out that his first love, has been loving him back all these years, and maybe in some of the recordings, Lwj talks about how he has been writing a song for him, and that he has already decided the name of it, and in the last one, he hums the song, but doesn't say the name of it. And Wwx frantically searches for Lwj everywhere and when he finally finds him, after 13 years, the first thing he says to Lwj when he sees him,

"You didn't tell me the name of the song"

And Lwj just, freezes, not yet comprehending anything that's happening, except the fact that the love of his life is standing right in front of him and asking him a question about something he could never know unless a miracle happened, but somehow uttering the word,

"Wangxian."

The rest is history.

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lexisecretaccx · 28 days

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High School Sweethearts pt. 10 - Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT3, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, (other parts in my Masterlist!)

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, arguements, mean & suggestive comments about y/n, idk)

A/n: bro the negative tension and uncomfortableness in this part is too real.. y/n eats Evan up at the end yall.

“Good looking too.” My mom raises her eyebrows to me and smirks, “yep.” I awkwardly say before turning back around on my heels and going to walk up the stairs, “wait, I wasn’t finished talking.” My mom spoke, her happy tone faltering slightly. I turn back around and she motions for me to sit on the couch.

I sit down and she sits in the arm chair opposite me, “what?” I ask impatiently, “watch your tone.” She tilts her head and clears her throat before continuing and I look down at my hands, “The Watsons invited us for dinner later.” My head shoots up at her, “you’re talking about the Watsons as in Evan Watson?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah and I said we’d go, for old time sake.” She smiles, completely ignoring the discomfort in my body language and voice. “No.” I scoff before standing up and walking to the stairs, “excuse me? You are coming, they miss seeing you!” My mom tries to convince me. “No!” I repeat, “their son is an asshole who treats girls like shit!” My tone loudens and my mother’s smile drops.

She walks towards me her teeth gritted, “We are going, maybe Evan will be nice.” I scoff and roll my eyes, “I shouldn’t even be letting you do anything nice after you attacked Evans best friend.” My mom hisses, “I’m doing this so you can have a nice future!”

“No, you’re doing this so you can have a good reputation and you want me and Evan to end up together so you’re the mother of the girl who married into the Watson’s family,” I walk closer to her, “I said this yesterday, me and Evan are never going to be together.” I rub either side of my temples.

“Evan probably won’t even be there, since he has friends.” My mom swallows angrily, “he won’t?” I ask again, not truly believing her. “I’ll ask them now,” she pulls out her phone and starts typing.

5 minutes later she smiles, “I just checked with his mother and he’s not gonna be there because he’s got football practice.” She smiles, “you comforted now?” I shrug. “I’m only coming because I don’t think I have another choice.” I walk up the stairs, “put on a pretty dress!” My mother calls up.

We have to leave at 5pm, it’s 4pm right now, I call Chris and he picks up instantly, “you okay?” He asks, “no, I have to go for dinner at.. guess whose house.” I answer, “I don’t know.” He replies confused. “Evans house, apparently he won’t be there but my mom is forcing me to go.” I whine, “what the fuck.” Chris says, “I know, I’ll text or call you if anything goes wrong.” I look through my wardrobe, “yeah do that, promise me you’ll be okay.” Chris spoke softly. “Yeah of course, I gotta get dressed now but I’ll talk to you later?” I ask, “yeah of course, talk to you later ma.” He hangs up.

I put on a purple dress, I look in my mirror, that dress makes you look fat. Evans words rang through my ears, this was the dress I wore to my 16th birthday party, but he made me feel so bad about myself, not a good memory attached to this dress. I rip the dress off and grab a red satin dress that I had, I can’t remember when I got it.

I slip into the dress, it’s a dark red and backless, it goes to just above my knees, I don’t know if it’s too revealing but I’ll pair it with a jacket for my own comfort, I grab a creme jacket and do my hair and place a creme bow in the back. I look down at the blood stained ring on my hand, the blood wouldn’t come off even in the shower.

I shrug and keep it on.

“You look, nice.” My mom says, she’s wearing a black dress that goes just past her knees, she’s wearing black heels too, I’m just in white sneakers. She looks at my choice of footwear and rolls her eyes, “come on.” We walk outside and into the car. At this point it’s 4:57pm and we should get there at 5:15, knowing it’s only a 15 min drive to his house.

We pull into his large driveway, his massive house infront of us, three stories and very victorian style. I don’t even know how we got together in the first place since he was rich as fuck and I was.. managing to get by.

“Brings back old memories huh?” My mom smiles at me, I shrug. The only memory it brings for me is the time he tried to, you know.

We knock at the door and Evans mom, Katherine opens the door, she looks at me and smiles. “Don’t you look so beautiful!” She pulls me in for a hug and I stand rigid. “Thanks.” I whisper. “Evan will be happy to see you.” She replies, I instantly look to my mom who awkwardly looks away and smiles at Katherine.

She leads us into the house and me and my mom follow, “you said he wasn’t gonna be here!” I whisper yell, “there was no other way to get you to come.” She keeps a straight face and doesn’t look at me. “You’re a liar.” I sigh and she ignores me.

We walk into their massive living room, the tall windows and ceiling haven’t changed much. I see his father James walk up to us, he looks at me and then at my mom and quickly back to me, he smirks at me “you have grown up in the past year huh?” He looks me up and down, causing me to wrap my jacket around me further, I shrug.

I sit down on the large couch next to my mom as she talks to Katherine and James, Katherine directs her attention to me, “so.. how’s school?” She asks smiling kindly, Katherine is the only one of the Watsons that has some sort of genuine niceness to her.

“I don’t know..” I mumble, “She’s lying.” A voice comes from behind me, Evan. He sits down next to me and looks at his mom, “she’s a trouble maker now, it’s the boy she hangs out with.” He looks at me smirking, I have felt eyes burning into me the whole time I’ve been sat here, James is staring but not in a normal way, he’s always been kinda pervy.

“Oh? Who’s the boy?” Katherine asks me, “its-” Evan goes to speak but I cut him off, “I can speak for myself, his names Chris.” I glare at Evan before smiling at Katherine. She nods.

A lady walks into the living room, “dinner is ready.” They are so fucking rich they have a chef and a maid. We walk to the dining hall and I sit down next to my mother, Katherine opposite my mother, James at the head of the table and Evan across from me. The maid places the plates in-front of us, it’s steak.

I drown out the conversation between my mom and Katherine, James adding into the conversation too. I feel someone kick my leg under the table, I look up at Evan and he’s grinning, I roll my eyes and continue to move my steak around the plate. “Doesnt y/n look beautiful?” Katherine asks Evan and James, Evan shrugs but James replies, “she’s growing into an attractive young lady, yes.” He smirks at me.

His eyes seem to be not focused on my face but my chest. Evan clears his throat and goes to speak, “so you finally watching your weight or something? Because you haven’t touched the steak.” He spoke to me, an evil smile creeps over his face, I don’t have a reason to watch my weight, Evan is just a dick who likes to make me feel bad about myself.

My mother smiles at him, not even defending me, Katherine nudges his elbow. “That is not how you talk to a woman Evan,” she spoke angrily and looks to me before smiling, “ignore him darling you’re gorgeous.” James obviously agrees with her, creep.

“Do you two talk in school?” My mother asks Evan, pointing between me and him. I shrug, “stop shrugging its rude.” My mom quietly hisses to me, “you could say that.” Evan smirks. My mom looks at me with hope in her eyes, “if you’re talking about threatening me and being rude to me and my boyfriend then yeah I guess we do talk.” I scowl at Evan.

Katherine looks to Evan in confusion, Evans brows knit together and tilts his head glaring at me before turning to his mother, “what does she mean?” She asked him, “she’s lying.” Is all he answers with. “You always accuse me of lying especially after..” Evan clears his throat loudly, cutting me off.

I stand up and lean on the table “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask urgently. Katherine nods, “of course, you remember where it is?” She smiles awkwardly, “yeah.” I say and walk out the dining room. “Sorry about her.” I hear my mom say.

I get in the bathroom and lock the door behind me, looking in the mirror. “Fuck this.” I whisper. I hear a knock on the door, “what?” There’s no reply so I open the door, Evan is standing there looking down at me.

“Fuck you scared me.” I flinch. He chuckles, “I’m sorry about what happened in there, I don’t want to be there just as much as you.” He whispers, leaning in close to me. “I doubt it, it’s your fucking house I never wanted to come back here.” I look down at my feet, feeling intimidated by his light green eyes, staring into my soul.

“So he’s your boyfriend now?” He asks me smirking, I nod uncomfortably and push past him before walking out in the hallway. “Wait.” He says and grabs my arm turning me around to him. “Let go.” I say coldly and he does. “It was kinda badass of you to beat up Michael.” He leans into me again and I lean away. “Yeah I guess.” I awkwardly spoke.

“Your knuckles are cut up huh?” He grabs my hand and his thumb grazes over my knuckles causing me to squint in pain. “Don’t do that.” I stare at him angrily, pulling my hand out of his grip. I turn around to walk away again and he smirks following behind me. “I’ve redecorated my room, wanna see?” He asks me from behind, the obvious grin in his voice.

“Of course!” I sarcastically say, flashing him a fake smile. “Of course not. I don’t want to go to the exact room you tried to attack me in.” I continue walking down the hallway and he grabs my shoulders, stilling my walk. “Maybe I wouldn’t have almost done that to you if you weren’t such a pussy, at that rate you’re gonna be a virgin forever.” He whispered into my ear.

Anger fills my face, who does he think he is? He has no right to say shit like that. “No I won’t.” I laugh, knowing that I’m not a virgin and when he finds out he’s gonna go mad. “Oh yeah?” He asks and I continue walking, him next to me.

“Did you see Chris at lunch?” I ask him, obviously he didn’t because Chris skipped so he could be with me. “No, nobody knew where he was.” He replied, I smirk, “I knew where he was.” I look up at Evan and I point at my chest. He tilts his head, “oh really?” He smirks down at me raising an eyebrow.

How big is this fucking house, I’ve been walking around in circles because Evan keeps fucking distracting me. “Yep he was at my house,” Evans smirk drops, and I grin up at him, “guess what we were doing.” I glare at him, lowering my tone.

His eyebrows furrow, “what?” His voice softens, “it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, me and Chris in my room, in my bed.. home alone..” I slow my tone at the end of it and I wait for Evan to realise, a smile creeps across my face as his face switches to shock.

“You weren’t.” He whispers, his ego has clearly taken a hit as his face drops. I nod and smirk before walking away back into the dining room, “can we go?” I ask my mom, making her jump as I came up behind her.

“Fine, we’ve finished eating anyway.” she looks at my half eaten steak and at the maid cleaning up the dishes. Evan looks very offended and doesn’t speak. “Have you two sorted your differences?” Katherine asks as we leave the dining room, “something like that.” I look up at her smiling before throwing Evan a snarky look, he just glares at me.

We walk to the door and Katherine hugs us goodbye and this time I actually hug her back.

My mom gets into the car and so do I.

A/n: y/n is actually a girl boss, Evan fuck outta here tryna manipulate her by being flirty. Also James can make his way to the ‘to catch a predator’ set because he’s a perv!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @accio326 @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @stingerayyy2 @freshsturns

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #matt #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #high school #high school sweethearts

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wardenparker · 1 year

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What Happens in Vegas, part 1

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8k Warnings: Mentions of partner death and divorce, smatterings of imagery of drunk sex. Technically most of this could be considered dubcon for drunkenness. Summary: A high school reunion in Las Vegas sounds great right? A fun, adult way to catch up with old friends and have a great party in the process. But everything goes a little sideways when you wake up the next morning in bed with someone unexpected. Notes: Part one of two! Marcus Moreno was absolutely a drama geek in high school and I will not be taking criticism.

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit straight up in bed. A mistake if there ever was one. Pain starbursts behind your eyes and you immediately pinch them shut again with a hiss. Shuffling slightly to cradle your pounding head, you moan as you hunch over. Not remembering much past the night before and having no clue on how you ended up in a bed. There's a grunt beside you, making your eyes shoot open again, but this time you don't try to resist the pain. You had definitely not come to your reunion with someone, so the idea of someone else in your bed is terrifying at best. One-night stands and being surprised by your bedmate the next morning had died in college during your walk of shame days. He's turned towards you, eyes closed, and face relaxed in sleep. One that you would have known anywhere, even if you hadn't tried keeping up with him through the years. You realize your own nakedness when you see his bare chest, gasping and yanking the sheets up over your breasts.

You’re in bed with your high school sweetheart, Marcus Moreno.

That place between sleep and awake is Marcus's favourite. It holds no worries and beautified reality, making touches feel like floating and sounds muffle as though they were coming through a wall of fluffy blankets. There is warmth beside him and beating down from his other side, vaguely registering in his sleepy mind as warm morning sun. He would have wafted through this half-feeling until he fell back to sleep, but he felt a jolt beside him and heard a yelping sound. Those were definitely not things from his dreams. Nor was the instant pounding that took over his head, making the previously comfortable sun feel like a jackhammer instead.

Marcus groans, rubbing his eyes as he gropes around for his glasses and slowly starts to string thoughts together: a bed, with someone else in it, in the morning, and he definitely has a hangover. He groans again, pained this time, and wonders what the hell he had gotten himself into. Vegas is a hell of a place to wake up with someone he doesn't know, and he briefly wonders if he had done something stupid last night. Once his glasses are shoved on his face and he can unglue his eyelids, he forces himself to look over.

Oh shit. It’s you. His high school sweetheart. What the hell happened last night??

"Mar– Marcus?" You stammer, your eyes widening, and you do an internal assessment of your body. Oh, you had definitely had sex. The ache between your legs is one that you hadn't experienced in a while but is consistent with a very vigorous night. You pull your hands down from your head and twist to look at him, hating that you don't remember what the hell had happened. The last thing you remembered was the slideshow at the event center. Nostalgia rampant and the bar open, while the graduating class went through the Most Like To list. Seeing everyone and sharing drinks had apparently caught up with you. "What happened?"

It's not until he sees you gripping the sheets to your body that he looks down – and realizes he's completely naked. Letting out a yelp of his own, Marcus pulls the comforter around him and then immediately cradles his aching head. The more conscious he gets, the worse it hurts. "Um..." Think, Moreno, think! But thinking hurts so much. "I'm not sure." He confesses. "I mean...we, uh..." his eyes are wide, looking between the two of you with embarrassed guilt. His core and thighs burn a little, and there is a faint taste of something tangy in his mouth along with stale beer. "I think we..." He sighs. "We definitely had sex..."

You hate how his sleep rough voice affects you. Low and gravely, it makes your core clench, and you feel the remnants of that observation between your thighs, sticky and thick. "Yeah, uh – I agree with that." You shouldn't be this embarrassed by that fact. It wasn't like you hadn't had sex with Marcus before. Hell, he was the first person you had sex with in your life. Sixteen and thinking you were going to be with him forever. "I–" Something catches your eye when you go to rub your head again, making you stop and flip your hand over, staring in horror at your left hand. A ring sitting on your ring finger, something that definitely wasn't there before this morning. "Did we– did we get married?" You manage.

"No!" Marcus is absolutely sure that that couldn't have happened, but his throat runs dry all the same. Slowly, he lifts up his own left hand where a shiny gold ring of his own gleams in the sun. "Or...maybe yes?" He tries not to focus on how good you look. Hair mussed and eyes a little droopy from having just woken up. He hasn't seen you like this in almost twenty years. Goddamn you look good. "I'm sorry," his face contorts in embarrassment. "I honestly don't remember much. Just the slide show at the reunion and then...nothing."

"Oh my God." You tug the sheets off of the bed, barely letting Marcus keep himself decent while you jump up. "No, there's no way. I mean, we just–" You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to freak out. "It's got to be some kind of joke." You remember Susan Combs, now Susan Ramey, talking about how the two of you were single, that you should rekindle the spark. Your eyes meeting Marcus's embarrassed gaze as the two of you stood awkwardly between her. "It's a joke." You tell him firmly, trying to convince yourself of it more than anything. How do you marry someone you haven't seen in nineteen years since he broke up with you when he met the woman he would marry his freshman year in college?

"Definitely." Marcus agrees. It had to be a joke. The thing that definitely wasn't a joke was the strong interest his cock had in the fact that one of the most gorgeous women he'd ever known in his life was standing in front of him wearing only a sheet. Not the time, he thinks to himself sternly. "There's...uh, there's some kind of brunch or something today, right?" He vaguely remembers it on the itinerary for their high school reunion, a chance for everybody to bemoan their hangovers together and say goodbye before people started catching their flights home. "I'm sure whoever's idea this was will be there to lord it over us." He hopes that, anyway. Hopes that it was some dumb joke from one of the other drama club guys or somebody who thought it would be funny to embarrass the hell out of the leader of the Heroics.

He looks around, not quite sure where to begin. "Do you...are my clothes over there?"

You look around and find his clothes mixed with yours on the floor, obviously stripped off together. You ignore that and lean down, tossing him his pants and not noticing that your panties are stuck in one of the pants legs where they had been dragged off your body. "I–fuck, I need a shower." You look at the clock and your eyes widen. "You do too." You hiss, noticing you don't have much time. "We can, I guess we are going to have to share a bathroom." You bite your lip, and try to suppress interest in seeing him as a fully grown man instead of a nineteen-year-old boy.

Marcus blanches for a second, wondering if you mean showering together, but he convinces himself that you can't possibly. This whole thing is too insane to really understand and what he needs most in the world is to wash up and brush his teeth. As much as his body might be interested in finding out how well you've grown up, that would be completely inappropriate given the circumstances. "You take the shower," he offers, ever the gentleman. "I can just wash up quickly and brush my teeth. Stale beer isn't a great taste."

Your face burns, a flash of him looking up at you from in between your legs pops into your mind. “No– uh, there is a shower and a tub, you take the shower and I’ll– we’re both adults and it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.” You reason. You hate how flustered you are, how intensely you just want to go back to sleep and pretend this is just a dream. “Or do whatever.” You add, looking towards the other door. “The sooner we figure out this is a joke, the sooner we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Right.” He wiggles into his boxers, stuck inside his pants in a way that said they were definitely pulled off together, under the covers and slips out of the bed to head toward the shower. You’re right, of course. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen each other naked, even before whatever happened last night. “S’dumb,” he mumbles. “Somebody decided it would be funny to put rings on us?” Pulling open the bathroom door revealed that this was your hotel room - bottles of sweet smelling soap and shampoo alongside a few bits of makeup and your deodorant and a hairbrush. Looks like he’ll be doing a walk of shame this morning.

Turning on the water for the shower, he turns shy again. You’re right. You’ve seen him naked. There’s no reason to hide from you. But that doesn’t stop him from turning away from you to take off his boxers before drawing back the shower curtain to hop in. He could live with you seeing his bare ass. He didn’t want you knowing he was sporting a semi from the faint memory of having his lips wrapped around your nipples a few hours ago.

You follow him into the bathroom, the sheet from the bed firmly anchored under your arm. Sighing when he closes the curtain behind him. Marcus Moreno. You lean over and turn on the water to the tub and plug the drain. You could admit to yourself that you hoped to catch his eye, if nothing but to show him exactly what he could have had if he hadn’t dumped you. Petty, you know, but still with the vindictiveness of someone scorned.

Not that he had been mean to you about it. No, Marcus had been distraught, admitting that he was falling for the girl in his Psych class when he had come home for fall break. The one that he would go on to marry and have his daughter with. From what you had heard, he mourned for a long time following the accident that had taken her from her family. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, he had just found the love of his life, and it wasn’t you.

Marcus groans under the hot water of the shower, leaning his forehead on the cool tile to try to ease the headache that was still splitting his skull in half. What a stupid ass situation. He’d been so excited to see you last night, still with that twinge of guilt but excited nonetheless. He’d started seeing your name in magazines here and there, your career really taking off, and he’d wanted to hear all about it from you instead of via a reporter. He’d kept his face still when you mentioned your divorce in passing. Told you a little about Missy and been grateful when you didn’t get starry eyed about him being a Heroic. His mother’s instinct to send him to a regular school had been a good one.

It happened by accident. When he turned to shove his lathered-up hair under the shower head, he’d caught the outline of your body lying back in the tub and choked on his reaction. God you’re gorgeous. Even more than you had been back then. Vision a little blurry without his glasses, he can still make out the rise of your breasts above the water and admire the line of your leg sticking out above the tub when you have started to wash up. Marcus’s throat runs dry and he wills himself to keep control. The shower curtain obviously let shadows through, and he doesn’t want to be disrespectful. He’d loved you once - so much - and doesn’t want you to think he’d grown up to be a creep, staring at you in the bath.

You try to clean up quickly, but the hot water eases the pain. Closing your eyes and trying to not listen to the sounds of Marcus in his shower. It was so surreal, being here in this situation. You couldn't deny that you had thought about him over the years. He had been your first love, honestly the first man that you thought you were going to marry, although life had other plans. The entire class had thought so too, yours and Marcus's picture flashed up on the screen together: the two of you at prom together. You both had been voted most likely to get married. Something that you had both awkwardly laughed over, and you had ordered another drink.

“I’m – uh, I’m done.” He hates the way his voice waivers, but he had no goddamn idea how to handle this. He shuts off the water and reaches blindly out to the shelf beside it where he’d seen towels to wrap one around his waist. He draws the curtain back slowly, giving you fair warning to cover up, and swallows down the urge to jam his glasses onto his face and get a decent look at you. You aren’t... together. Whatever had happened, it was the product of drinking and a potentially bad joke.

"Okay." You stand and reach for your own towel, stepping out onto the mat and securing it around your body before you turn to the curtain. "You can– I'm decent." You offer, not bothering to worry about the water that is dripping down your legs. "I'll go into the bedroom to get dressed." You tell him. "You can– fuck it, use my toothbrush. It's not like we didn't kiss." You offer before fleeing the room so you don't do something stupid, like drop your towel and see how he reacts.

It only takes a few minutes to get ready, and Marcus is in his day-old clothes opening the door for you when you decide it’s time to head downstairs. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to face your former classmates, but he needs to know what happened. In the elevator, he discovers he’s nervously spinning the ring on his hand and looks down at yours again, seeing an expensive-looking wedding set, engagement ring and wedding band that lock together into an impressive piece of jewelry on your finger. It was the sort of thing he wanted to get you, back then. Dreamed of making his money young and being able to give you the world. Things changed when he’d met Missy’s mother, and he’d hated himself for hurting you even though he was so happy. “It’s nice,” he says, breaking the silence. “The rings. They’re...beautiful, actually.”

You jump, surprised that he had mentioned it before you look down at your hand. "It is." You admit, admiring it for a moment before your eyes find his. Looking away just as quickly. "Hopefully I– you, hopefully you can get your money back if you paid for it." You tell him quietly, knowing that if this was not a joke, it was definitely something he viewed as a mistake. "They look expensive."

He shrugs, looking down at his own ring. “Keep it.” He smiles sheepishly. “I gave it to you, I guess? So that makes it yours.” Over the last few years he had wondered what life would be like if he had stayed with you: if he’d still have Missy and if you’d get that cat you’d always wanted. If you still loved the snow. “You can remember what happened afterward, even if we can’t remember last night.”

You sigh, looking over at the man you are wondering if you had married in a drunken frenzy last night. You bite your lip, another flashback of last night coming to you. Riding him and having him kiss up your chest before he pulls your nipple into his mouth. You shake your head, banishing the memory just as the elevator arrives on the ground floor where the brunch was located. "No, I can't. You didn't want to marry me then, and you didn't want to marry me now." You tell him before you step out of the elevator and start walking off, not looking back.

“Shit.” He rushes after you, wanting to soothe your obvious and understandable irritation, but you have strode into the brunch room with your head held high. Strong as iron, just like you’d always been. When the crowd of your classmates sees you come into view there is an explosion of whooping and hollering, and just as much applause. His old friend Tim claps him on the back while he laughs.

Your heart plummets at the clapping and cheers. It's not a joke. You married Marcus last night. Susan rushes over to you, enveloping you in a tight hug and squealing loud enough that it hurts your ears over the rest of the noise. "Oh my God! I can't believe it!" She prattles, pulling away and grabbing your hand to gush over the ring. "I take full credit of course! It was all my idea and look!" She turns and points to the large screen where the projector is rolling and you gasp. There is video of you and Marcus, standing in a chapel in front of, of all things, an Elvis impersonator. Great, not only had you drunkenly gotten married to a man you hadn't seen in nearly twenty years, but you had gotten married by Elvis in Las Vegas. One big walking cliche.

“Oh my god...” Marcus feels his jaw hit the floor and his heart starts pounding, a stark reminder of the flash of a memory he has of being heart-poundingly excited standing in front of you in that ridiculous chapel. Had this really happened? He scrubs one hand down his face as his other unconsciously moves to hover over the small of your back, protective but not touching. You are in this together, after all.

“I guess...it happened...” he breathes, right next to you. He can’t believe these assholes took video of it, but he supposes at least now you could know what actually happened.

On screen, Marcus watches himself grin at you and you grin back. You look happy. Excited even. You must have been so damn drunk – you had been so angry with him for so long after he broke up with you and he didn’t blame you for it. He could remember the heartbroken look on your face as you had sternly asked him to leave your house, choking back tears. It was so different from how you looked on that video. Up there, you looked as happy as the day he’d asked you out.

You school your face into one that everyone else would believe is happy. Wanting to look away from the video, instead you watch, fascinated as you and Marcus giddily exchange vows, unable to keep from kissing each other between vows like saps. "A toast to the happy couple!" You groan quietly and your stomach rolls at the thought of alcohol as flutes of champagne are brought over to you and Marcus. Unable to do more than accept them, you turn and face the man who was now apparently your husband.

“Hair of the dog,” Marcus whispers, trying for a reassuring smile. He tries not to throw up as soon as the champagne hits his throat, but he’s determined not to embarrass you any further by looking as mortified as he feels. Watching himself kiss you, he can distinctly remember the perfect way your lips had wrapped around his cock, tongue teasing the veins as you looked up at him with big, innocent eyes.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asks in your ear, glancing over at an alcove nearby.

You finish the champagne despite it sloshing in your stomach and threatening to come up, then nod and hand your glass off to someone to follow him off to a secluded area. You swallow back some bile, hating that phrase. Remembering how he had resisted kissing you so many years ago and asked that same question before he broke up with you. "Yeah?" You ask, tensing for bad news and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively.

“I’m starting to...” Marcus clears his throat, that glass of champagne not having helped at all. Hair of the dog his ass. “I’m starting to remember things.” He searches your face for a reaction but gets none. You look like a deer in headlights. “Um,” he exhales, eyes pinching closed for a second before opening again. He feels so guilty. Like he shouldn’t have these memories, despite the fact that you were the first person he did absolutely anything sexual with. “The sex.” He forces himself to say it. “Specifically, I’m starting to remember us having sex.”

You huff. "Yes, I'm fully aware we had sex, Marcus." You roll your eyes. "I'm the one that woke up with cum crusted on the inside of my thighs." Marcus flushes and his eyes dart down to your thighs. You were starting to get flashbacks of it as well, but it seems like he is remembering more than you did. "What's your–" You break off, your tone hostile and you don't want to take your mistakes out on him. "Okay, do you remember something you think I should know?"

“I know you’re mad,” Marcus’s head drops to his chest and he sighs. “We did something stupid and you have every right to be mad. But,” he glances up, hoping your eyes aren’t burning a hole in his head. “I made the first move, so...this is on me.” He can remember it clearly now. The two of you tipsy, having a fairly serious discussion about what happened back then, and he had kissed you. Apologized for hurting you. Told you how much he had been thinking about you lately, with the reunion coming up it had super charged his memories of you. “I kissed you first. And I’m pretty sure I was the first one to get clothes off. And I’m definitely the one who...went down on the other one first.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously. “So if you’re going to be mad about anything.” He shrugs. Now that he can remember it, that kiss felt amazing. That first press of your lips together after nineteen years and the way you had moaned against him when he opened his mouth for you to lick inside. “Be mad at me, I guess.” He can’t help himself, his eyes flick up to your lips, wavering there before looking back up at you. Now that he can remember it, he’s aching to do it again.

"I'm not...mad, I'm disappointed." You admit, looking away from him. "It's not like I hadn't– I wanted to just..." You shrug, suddenly feeling foolish. "I wanted to show you up, prove that you had missed out on something great. And now this is something that is going to cause you embarrassment." You close your eyes and sway slightly, your cunt clenching when you remember his tongue against your clit, moaning into you as he eagerly ate you out. "Stupid, huh? To still be petty about being dumped for the one you were supposed to be with." You swallow, meeting his gaze again and not being able to tell what he was thinking. "I'm sorry. I'll – I'll just go."

“Don’t!” He reaches out to grab your arm as soon as you turn, not too hard but enough to pull you back to him. “You did show me what I missed. And...from what I can remember, it was great.” You’re standing so close to him that he feels like he’s breathing down your neck and he has no idea if you’re okay with it or not, even though it’s stirring his cock back to life. “I don’t regret the years I had with Missy’s mother. She was a wonderful woman, and I loved her. If I hadn’t had her, I wouldn’t have Missy, but,” he huffs a sigh, his hand slipping up your arm to drag his knuckles down your cheek gently. “I loved you, too. I’m not embarrassed that we had sex. Please don’t think that, okay? I’m embarrassed that this is the way it happened. You deserve better.” He squeezes his eyes closed again, gearing himself up for you to snap at him again. “And, for the record? Everyone knows disappointed is worse than mad.”

You can't help but chuckle at that, relaxing at his speech. You didn't blame him, not really. The rejection had been heartbreaking at the time, but you also wouldn't have the career you have if you had stayed with Marcus. You would have followed his career, let it overshadow what you wanted to do with your life. "I guess we need to talk about this somewhere a little more private about all this." You look around and bite your lip. "Decide what we are going to do."

Marcus nods, glad you haven’t screamed at him or run away. “Do you want to placate our gleeful classmates and eat first?” He asks, not wanting to pressure you into anything. He’d gladly leave now if you wanted but he’d leave it up to you. “It might be helpful to hear more of what happened.”

You can agree with that. "It might help the hangover too." You acknowledge, looking towards the buffet. "Do you want to go grab a plate?" You ask, wanting to see if he wanted to eat with you or would prefer to separate and learn as much as he could on his own.

He glances around the room taking stock of everyone’s reactions and finds half the room trying very badly to pretend they’re not staring at the happy couple. “Go talk to Susan,” he suggests, knowing how your old friend loves to talk her head off. “I’ll see if Tim is feeling chatty.” He swallows, hard, and finds your eyes. “Better keep up appearances?” It’s selfish, using the curious eyes as an excuse to kiss you again, but Marcus Moreno is so rarely a selfish man that he’s willing to see if you’re okay with it.

You nod, knowing that everyone in the room is trying to discreetly look towards you. "Okay." You breathe out, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he steps closer to you, his hand coming up to grip your waist. Your heart is pounding and you curl your hand around his neck as he leans in, his tongue coming out to swipe on his lower lip. "Kiss me, Marcus."

That’s all he has to hear. Holding back a groan, he tugs you closer and slots his lips against yours. It’s probably only for a second, but it feels like hours. The kind of kiss that makes him tingle. Your lips are as soft and warm as they were last night, but this time there’s no alcohol and the taste is all you with a touch of toothpaste. That groan he was holding back breaks free and he pulls back, embarrassed.

You sigh out, wishing he had kissed you for longer, but it was for show. Trying to convince the roomful of your former classmates that it hadn't been a drunken mistake when you had gotten married last night. You drop your hand from his neck and give him a small smile that you don't feel. "Good luck finding out what we did." You whisper and step to the side and walk off towards Susan.

Marcus watches you go, eyes lingering on your ass just a little too long, but he figures it’s okay to check out the woman who was technically his wife. God, what a mess. At this point, he had to admit to himself that he’d come here for you. No other reason and no other motive. He wanted to see you again and this was the only way how. How was he going to explain this to Missy? Hey here’s you new stepmom, we got drunk and Elvis sang Burnin Love to us after our vows. Ugh. He headed back to Tim and his other old friends, hoping they could shed some light on the events leading up to the insane cliche of a Vegas wedding.

“Awwww!” Susan is giggling when you walk back towards her, clapping her hands a little and looking at you with dreamy eyes. “You guys have always been so cute!”

"Thanks." You give her a smile and try to ignore the way you feel Marcus's eyes on you.

"He's watching you, you know." Susan says with a happy grin, making you look back to find his dark eyes on you. Giving you an encouraging smile before he looks over at the guys when someone comes up to him and slaps him on the back, a grin flashing across his face. "Tell me," Susan leans in conspiratorially, "was it as good as you remembered? Or was it even better?" She sighs, obviously in love with the idea of your fairy tale romance. "He's definitely a man and not a boy anymore." You hum and make a non-committal sound that she takes as playing it close to your chest.

******

“Come on, Romeo,” Tim is laughing and grinning, pulling Marcus along to join their other drama club friends in the buffet line. “Tear your eyes away from your bride for 30 seconds and come fuel up. From what I heard, you’re going to need your strength.”

Marcus blanches. “What d’ya’mean?” He mumbles, shoving a piece of toast in his face so he can’t say too much.

“Dude my room is right next to hers,” Tim shoots him a sly grin. “You guys are better than porn.”

“Uh...thanks?” What the hell does Marcus even say to that? “Please tell me you didn’t jack off to me having sex?” His eyes are absolutely pleading. He’s very glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself, but he doesn’t want anyone to say one single word against you for something you clearly regret. He wishes he didn’t have this knot in his stomach. Not the one from his hangover, but the one from kissing you just now.

“I would never do that.” Tim tells him solemnly before busting out a grin. “I was too busy editing your wedding video for today. Like you asked.”

******

"From what Tim said, you were very vocal."

You honestly wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You bite your lip, still aching pleasantly from whatever had made you so vocal last night. "So why don't you tell me what everyone said when we decided to go to the chapel."

That makes Susan change topics. She grins and nods. "Oh, everyone was just ecstatic. All talking about how touchy the two of you were. And when Marcus kissed you? All the girls that were jealous of you having him in high school were green with envy." She giggles and leans in to whisper, "Some of them didn't think it was real, just hype for the reunion, but I could see his heart in his eyes when he looks at you." She confides.

You flush, your cheeks burning, and you wish that were true. You had never exactly gotten over Marcus, even after you moved on and married your now ex-husband. "Well, the feeling was mutual." You admit, telling yourself it was just to keep up appearances.

******

“Thanks for that.” Marcus finds that he really means it, because it’s helping both of you to piece together the night - and maybe also a little bit because watching himself look at you like that was eating at his armor. The armor he had carefully constructed after his wife had died and he had promised himself that no other woman would come into Missy’s life until he was absolutely certain about her. And he had never been certain about any of the small number of women he’d dated in the last five years. But you? He mechanically fills up his plate with enough food to banish his hangover and nods his head along with whatever Tim was saying.

“What did she think of the ring?” He asks, and Marcus tunes back in. Tim huffs at his quizzical look and chuckles. “You were so serious about engraving those things, I figured she would at least say she liked it.”

Marcus immediately slips his ring off his finger and finds a rose flanked by both of your first initials carefully engraved inside. His chest clenched. You had played Romeo and Juliet together in high school – the rose in his ring being just like the ones he used to give you before rehearsal.

******

Your head is pounding and Susan's chatter isn't helping, but you follow behind her and fill up your plate with things that won't make your stomach revolt. "And then that engraving on your rings? That was so sweet and the fact that Marcus insisted on it made me swoon."

Your eyes widen and when you sit down you slip off your rings to find your initials and a rose engraved on the inside of the band. "Oh." Your heart melts but the realistic side of you hates to see it. It means the rings can't be returned. You hope that you had paid for your rings yourself so he isn't out the money.

******

“Uh, yeah,” Marcus manages to nod, forcing a smile that he hopes is convincing. “She really liked it.” Ready for a tornado to come and swallow him whole, Marcus shoves his hand in his pocket as the guys head to a table together, finding his cell phone open to a text string with his daughter:

‘Missy, I know I should have talked to you first. I should have told you about her, and how she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved besides your mother.’

‘There’s nobody else I want in our lives and even your abuela liked her, so you know she’s a keeper.’

‘Miss, I’m not trying to replace your mom. I just hope you’re okay with this. I love her, and I hope you will too.’

Oh god. Marcus swallows the rising dread threatening to make him sick all over again. What have I done?

******

You look over at Marcus, frowning when you see him looking at his phone with a distraught look on his face. You wondered what has him looking like he's seen a ghost. You think about going over there, but you aren't really his wife.

"Hey everybody!" Your head turns to the front of the room where the projector is going. "We are about to officially show the wedding video of our own newest happy couple. Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Moreno! Come on guys, stand up and come up here!" You want to crawl into a hole when everyone starts clapping again and Susan urges you up.

Catching your eye from a few tables away, Marcus makes his way over to you with an uneasy gait. The texts back from Missy had been more confused than anything else and he wasn’t looking forward to explaining what had happened. Reaching your seat, he offers you his hand to hold and presses an apologetic kiss to the back of it when you accept the gesture. The room “awwe”s at the sweet gesture, mistaking it for romantic.

"Are you okay?" You murmur quietly as the two of you make your way to the front of the room. Marcus squeezes your hand gently but doesn’t answer, making your stomach flip from nerves and from the way his hand feels entangled with yours. When you come up to the front, the former class president, John Walker, grins at both of you.

"So in high school they were voted most likely to get married." The picture of the two of you wrapped around each other was flashed up on the screen again like it had throughout the brunch. Your smile doesn't falter but your eye twitches, your grip on Marcus's hand loosening. "It's taken twenty years, but last night they made that a reality! And thanks to Tim Dalton, we have the wedding video for everyone to enjoy!"

When the footage starts rolling it's of the whole reunion, lots of couples slow dancing on the hotel ballroom's dance floor to the Pretender's "I'll Stand by You". The camera zooms in on Marcus with his arms around you, the two of you with hearts in your eyes. The song continues as Marcus watches himself lean in to kiss you, and he smiles a little now at the memory. On the screen, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, both of you losing the rhythm of the music as you get caught up in the kiss. He remembers it distinctly now, that moment. He leans down a little and nudges your shoulder before whispering in your ear: "I remember that...you, um...you had just told me you missed me. And I said I missed you too."

You vaguely remember that, the haze of alcohol not having taken hold quite yet. "You...you said that you almost asked your information director for my number." Your brow furrows as you remember that detail. "You didn't want to contact me through the reunion app." There was an app that was like a general chat room for the entire class. It was chaotic at best and completely visible to everyone. "Or am I imagining that?"

He shakes his head gently, head still bent next to your ear. "No. You didn't imagine that." He swallows, dry mouth and the slight anxiety of memories coming back mixing together. "I really only came here to see you, anyway. I didn't figure the whole class needed to know that, so...I was going to call you and see if you were even coming." Heat creeps up Marcus's cheeks. "Clearly, I chickened out."

You can't help but grin at that. "But obviously it worked out." You point out, liking the way that his eyes lighten when they crinkle in a matching grin. God he’s still as handsome as the day you had first held his hand. Or the last day he had been close to you. Maybe more so. He had aged like fine wine. Your attention is captured when you see the video change, obviously later in the night, the two of you a little more tipsy.

Marcus reluctantly looks away from you, turning his eyes up again to watch the two of you on screen – you sitting in his lap with your arms around him, gently peppering his cheeks and neck with kisses. The audio crackles a little, tuning in to what the two of you are saying. "So fucking gorgeous," he hears himself saying to you, before he actually giggles a little at you planting a kiss on a spot where he's ticklish. He has to agree with his tipsy self – you look amazing.

Catcalls come over the video, shouts from other classmates for you to get a room. Until Susan comes into view. "No, they need to just get married! We all know they belong together."

You fluster tipsily, laughing and kissing Marcus. "You should make an honest woman out of me." You coo, batting your eyelashes at him playfully. Oh God, you had encouraged it, you had practically begged Marcus to marry you. Embarrassment floods your body even as Marcus eagerly nods on the video.

The catcalls turn to cheers as Marcus watches himself lift you off his lap and slip off his chair, down on one knee. Wide-eyed, he grips your hand tighter as he watches himself propose to you. Tipsy as he was he trips over his words a little, but it is absolutely clear that he was not coerced or forced in any way. And neither were you. Tipsy? Yes. Encouraged by your classmates? Absolutely. But this was two adults who seemed to be fully aware of what they were doing.

You watch the proposal and the way that you immediately nod and crush your lips to his. Only pulling away to shout to everyone around you that you were getting married. "Oh my God." You whine, only where Marcus can hear you while everyone else in the room releases 'awwwwe's and laughs at how excited the two of you are in the video. "I don't think you can blame yourself for this." You whisper to Marcus.

"We're in this together." He moves his hand from holding yours to wrapping his whole arm around your shoulders supportively. The video morphs again - this part clearly filmed on someone's phone as you and Susan are poking through white dresses in a shop clearly meant for this exact purpose. Susan grabs a little veil off a shelf and plops it on your head, telling you to "Say something to Marcus!" while she points at the phone. They were obviously already planning on putting this video together.

"Marcus, I love you so much." You gush to the camera, making a kissing face to it before you burst into giggles. Susan squeals and says she's found the perfect dress, recapturing your attention.

The video cuts to Marcus searching for suits with Tim. "I can just wear this." He whines, looking down at the outfit he was wearing. Your eyes widen, realizing the suit he was wearing now wasn't what he had come to the reunion in.

"No man, you can't get married in that. Tell your lady love something." Tim says, encouraging Marcus to look over at the camera.

“I love you, hermosa.” Marcus says on the video, flustering and grinning. “I’m so glad you’re here and I’m here and that you said yes.”

Beside you, Marcus looks down at his suit and squeezes his eyes closed. How did he not realize that he wasn’t wearing the same one he came in? The pile of clothes on your hotel room from earlier comes back into his mind and he now realizes there was a white dress tossed in one corner of the room.

The video cuts to the chapel, the two of you giggling and Marcus won't even let you go long enough to walk down the aisle traditionally. Loudly telling Elvis that he wasn't letting you go, it had been too long since he had last held you. That makes you bite your lip, swallowing hard when he leans in and kisses you again on screen.

The vows are surprisingly heartfelt, for how drunk you both are at that point. He’s pulling you in for kisses after every sentence or two, telling Elvis that he wouldn’t be able to keep from kissing you either if he were him. When Elvis finally proclaims you man and wife, Marcus watches himself pick you up bridal style and carry you back down the aisle, shouting at everyone not to wait up. The sound of you giggling in his arms is one that brings him back – and he realizes he’s been holding you tighter while your haphazard wedding ceremony plays out on screen.

You fluster, hearing the comments that the party that had come with you are saying. You bite your lip and your face feels like it's on fire when they start making bets on how long before you announce a baby. Your eyes dart over to Marcus's and you see his own widen behind his glasses, the thought of birth control obviously one that had just hit him. You take mercy on him, not wanting him to panic too hard. You lean in to him. "I'm protected." You whisper, hoping to put his mind at ease.

Marcus deflates a little at your assurance, ashamed that he hadn’t thought of that himself. The video ends with Susan and Tim waving your marriage certificate in front of the camera and the room is filled with the sound of flatware clicking against glasses. “Kiss!” Someone in the back of the room spots, and within seconds everyone has joined in.

You lift a brow and look at him in question. It wasn't like you hadn't kissed before. This time you were a little more eager, wishing that you knew what he was thinking when he searches your face before nodding. His hand cups your cheek, and you tilt your head as his mouth slants across yours. Firm and much deeper than the one he had put on you earlier, making you whimper into his mouth and melt against him.

Kissing you had a habit of making the world float away. Marcus had kept himself firmly on the ground in the alcove earlier, but this time you were pressed against him and sighing open to let him in and he melted along with you – much to the glee of the entire ballroom. This time when you parted it was reluctantly and Marcus keeps his eyes on yours, knowing how much softer he looks and feels. Did you actually mean even the smallest bit of what you had said last night? Did you still love him even a little bit or was it the alcohol and horniness talking? Make an honest woman out of me, you had said on that video. He would have, if he hadn’t met Missy’s mother. You were the only two women he’d ever loved. And right now the clenching in his heart told him he might have meant it when he said he loved you. Or at least, he was falling back in love with you.

You tuck your head under his chin, shy from how much you had let yourself slip into the kiss. Feeling like it had been real while he was kissing you. Your heart aches, wishing that everything that had been said in that video had been real, but you couldn't be sure. You sigh quietly when his arms tighten around you as the rest of the room finally quiets down. "Now lovebirds, as a gift to you, we have booked you two a few extra days here and changed your flights. So you can enjoy a proper honeymoon." John announces, making your eyes widen. "Some of us have bets on when there will be another announcement." He chuckles.

“It’s okay,” Marcus whispers to you. His arms squeeze you close and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It gives us time to figure this out.” Figure it out. Marcus can feel how wrong the words came out, but he doesn’t know what to say to fix it. You would want out of all of this as soon as possible, but since there were probably twice as many divorce lawyers in Vegas as there were chapels, he was sure you’d be out of the woods in no time. He would apologize profusely to Missy and nurse a severely sad heart at home. He had never wanted to do anything to hurt you and now he’d done it twice – breaking up with you and somehow getting you into a marriage that you’d only agreed to because you were drunk.

From the side of the little stage, Tim hands him a room key with a wink. “And there’s a surprise waiting for you there!” He announces to the room. Your eyes widen, half afraid of what kind of surprise there is.

“Well, I guess that’s our queue to leave.” Marcus says playfully, taking your hand again and making everyone laugh. He leans into the microphone and tells the crowd: “Thank you, this will definitely be a reunion we will never forget.” Talk about the understatement of the year. And severely ironic.

John shoos you off the stage. “We wish you both the best of luck and get out of here! Go make babies!” He jokes, making you fluster and you can see Marcus’s ears burning.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Moreno #Marcus Moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #Marcus Moreno x female read #Marcus Moreno x f!reader #high school sweethearts #one that got away #what happens in vegas stays in vegas #We Can Be Heroes

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nymphdiary · 6 months

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if u can’t handle a heart like mine , don’t waste ur time w me🩰

#୨୧ #melanie martinez #k-12 #high school sweethearts #hss #cute #pink #hyper feminine #princesscore #rococo #kawaii #fairycore #nymphcore

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sunnirainbow · 2 years

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melanie martinez - high school sweethearts

#text #melanie martinez #txt #lyrics #music #high school sweethearts

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hushedhippie · 5 months

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Cooking a week’s worth of meals with my lover🤍

#personal #hipster #hippie #boho #good vibes #hippie vibes #bohemian #happy #peaceful #peace #it’s all good #aesthetic #lover #high school sweethearts #❤️#long hair #wavy hair #ootd

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lilacheavenbb · 1 month

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these are the requirements if you think you can be my one and only true love:

1. you must accept that im a little out my mind

2. this is a waste if you can’t walk me down the finish line

3. give me passion don’t make fun of my fashion

4. give me more

5. you can’t be scared to show me off and hold my hand

6. if you can’t put it to work idk what you think this fkn is

7. if you cheat you will die

if you can’t handle a heart like mine don’t waste your time with me if you’re not down to bleed

#girlblogging #pink #coquette #this is a girlblog #k 12 melanie martinez #melanie littlebodybigheart #melanie martinez #k 12 #high school sweethearts #crybaby #after school #dollette #female rage #female hysteria #femcel #insane girl #hell is a teenage girl #girl interupted syndrome

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classycookiexo · 3 months

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I completely agree

#high school sweethearts #honestly #relationships

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neoxghoul · 3 months

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High School Sweethearts 💕

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roxygen22 · 2 months

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Wish

This is my first one-shot featuring an actor rather than one of their characters. Timothée reminds me a lot of my first love and high-school sweetheart. We grew apart later in life, but I still look back fondly at moments we had like this.

Summary: You are heading off to college across the country. Your boyfriend, Timothée, surprises you with a sweet gesture on your last night together.

<><><><><>

"Come on," Timothée whisper-yelled as he looked down at you from his perch on your shared apartment building's fire escape.

You peered up at him nervously. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see if you ever get up here," he playfully mocked and then disappeared over the roof ledge.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, you chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself up the ladder one rung at a time. "Doesn't he know I'm scared of heights?" you grumbled.

Your irritation melted when you finally made it to the top. Timothée stood by a telescope and a palette of blankets and pillows.

"I want to look at the stars with you," he said sheepishly as he gestured to the setup.

Your heart melted. You had no clue when he could have snuck away to set this up. The two of you had spent nearly every moment of the day together, trying to make the most of the remaining hours. The next day, you and your parents would be driving across the country to move you into your dorm room.

Timothée had the telescope trained on the moon. You both took turns looking through the apparatus, then laid down on the blankets with your pinkies linked to stare up at the sky. You looked over to take in his profile, the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his curly head of hair.

"Thank you for this."

He squeezed your hand. "I find comfort in the fact that we will still be able to look up at the same moon, at the same stars, even though we're thousands of miles apart. When you look up, know that I am thinking about you." He rolled to his side to face you. "That I love you."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

"At the risk of sounding super corny, to the moon and back," he replied with a big grin.

"I love you, too, Timmy." Your trembling lips met his as you tried to stifle your tears. "I'm going to miss you so much." Your voice broke and betrayed you.

He reached over and held your cheek. "Hey, shh, none of that. There will be plenty of time for tears tomorrow."

You saw his eyes move to something above you. He leaned up on his elbow and pointed to the sky. "Oh, look! Look! It's a shooting star!"

You sat up to look where he was pointing. "Timmy, that's just an airplane."

"I know, but we can pretend. Annnnnnd it distracted you from crying." He winked. "Make a wish."

You closed your eyes and smiled, complying with his silly instructions. You felt him staring at you.

"What did you wish for?" he asked softly.

"Well, if I tell you, it won't come true," you pushed playfully at his shoulder. His small smirk fell from his face as quickly as it began. He gently lowered himself back down to the blanket once more.

"I'll tell you mine because I don't want it to come true."

You gave him a puzzled look.

He looked up into your eyes and took your hand in his. "I wished you could stay. I'm saying it out loud because it would be selfish of me to genuinely want it to come true. You got a full ride to the school of your dreams! This is an amazing opportunity for you, and I'll be damned if I'll be the one to hold you back."

"Oh, Timmy." You laid down and snuggled into his side. The two of you stayed like that for hours in relative silence before he walked you back to your family's apartment.

<><><><><>

Timothée helped you and your parents load up the last of your belongings the next morning. He shook your dad's hand and gave your mom a hug before they stepped up into the truck, leaving the two of you alone for one last lingering moment.

He pulled a small, flat box from his pocket. "Open this on the way," he said as he handed it to you.

You looked down at the box and ran your thumb over the ribbon. Fat tears fell from your eyes as you looked up into his. Timothée pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed against his chest. You felt him plant a kiss against your hair.

"I am going to miss you so much, [Y/N]. But that has nothing on just how proud I am of you for pursuing your dreams. You are going to do amazing things." His voice cracked at the end.

"I love you, Timmy."

"I love you more."

He lifted your chin and drew you into one last kiss. Your tears mixed as your lips moved together. You pushed yourself away and wiped your face before hurriedly climbing into the back seat of the truck. You knew if you made eye contact that you might not have the strength to leave.

Timothée shut the door behind you. Now that you were buckled in and committed to the journey, you risked looking up at him. He looked as pitiful as you felt. His greenish blue eyes were red and puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. As the truck moved forward, he loosened one to wave. You placed your hand on the window, wishing you could touch his one more time. You stared and waved until he was out of sight.

Your attention then fell to the gift in your lap. You gently tugged at the bow and opened the box to find a bracelet with delicate moon and star charms. Underneath, there was a small, handwritten note:

Don't forget to look up.

Love, T

<><><><><>

Masterlist

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #high school sweethearts #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #drabble #slight angst #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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jisatsuwaifu · 3 months

Text

It’s always been you.

#I love you #I miss you #I’m sorry #emo girl #love quotes #you #high school sweethearts

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fishbone-art · 1 year

Text

Melanie Martinez x the strawberry dress

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sidnatecentral · 7 months

Text

ermmmm WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEYRE TOGETHER AGAIN ????? RIGHT PERSON WRONG TIME TURNED RIGHT TIME !!!

#nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon #jonathan drouin #jo drouin #i need them #high school sweethearts #that one scene where jon is reuniting with sansa erm #colorado avalanche #nhl

40 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 1 year

Text

What Happens in Vegas, part 2

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: Mentions of partner death and divorce, hurt/comfort, fertility issues/illness/pregnancy symptoms, if I ever write a story where Marcus doesn’t use his powers to undress his partner assume something is wrong with me, intimate piercings, oral sex (f and m receiving), soft!dom Marcus, fingering, a dash of praise kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex. Summary: It is time for honesty, as you and Marcus decide what your future will hold and how to mesh your lives together. Notes: We’ve had this one on the back burner for quite some time, and we’re so glad that it was finally time to break it out to share with you all! As always, thanks for reading and for being such lovely folx 🧡🧡 Part 1 is right Here!

Once in the safety of the elevator Marcus wraps his arms around you again, this time out of sheer protectiveness. All this insanity is centered around both of you, and he feels like maybe he can absorb some of the impact by keeping you bundled up. “That was...enlightening.” What else can he really say? “I guess there’s no real place to lay the blame.”

You snicker softly. “We can blame it on the alcohol.” You sigh, leaning some of your weight against Marcus. “We don’t– well, shit, I’m supposed to check out of my room today, so I guess we better check out this room they got us and have a talk.” You venture.

Marcus glances down at the room number written on the key and presses the corresponding number on the elevator's keypad. He doesn't let you out of his arms when you don't indicate that you want to step away, just leaning against the elevator wall with you leaning against him in turn. "You looked beautiful," he mumbles, not sure if he's even allowed to say that. "In your dress, I mean. I mean you always look beautiful, but the dress – it was good..." Ugh. He hates how he rambles when he gets nervous. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he gathers his words. "Last night. You looked beautiful last night."

You smile, remember how he had stumbled over his words when you and he were together. “Thank you. You looked very handsome. Still do.” You add since he is wearing the same suit as last night. “Although I’m sure you want to change into something more comfortable.”

"I would kill for jeans and a t-shirt," he admits, cracking a grin. "And a coffee. Not the watered-down crap they had downstairs. Real espresso. What are the odds this room they got us has a good coffeemaker in it?"

“50/50.” You quip, walking down the hall until you reach the door. “Or maybe….” The door is larger than the average door, looking like you’ve arrived to a suite instead of an average room. Marcus inserts the key and the door swings open. “Oh God, they’ve gotten us the honeymoon suite.” You breathe out when you step inside and glance around.

There's an absurd amount of rose petals strewn around, an ice bucket holding champagne, and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries right there when you walk in the door. There's a coffee table further into the room laden with all kinds of trinkets that the hotel must leave out for every couple that rents the room. A banner in Susan's handwriting reads Congratulations Mr and Mrs Moreno! and has been signed by all of the people who were in the chapel with you in the video. "Well I'm glad they're getting a kick out of this," Marcus grumbles, his ears burning.

“It’s sweet.” You acknowledge, sighing and wishing for a moment that this was real. “I–” you are nervous about bringing it up but it needs to be addressed. “What do you want to do, Marcus?” You ask softly. “Obviously I don’t think you would have done this sober, so, I’m not going to hold you to this– this– whatever this is.” You choke on the words, but keep your voice steady.

"You sound like you want to stay married." The observation has him hesitating, standing in the mass of flower petals on the rug and looking over at you like it's prom night and you've just come down the stairs in that light blue and silver dress you loved because the beads reminded you of snow. He can feel how soft his expression is despite how wide his eyes have blown. He had never for a minute considered the idea that this was something you might have actually wanted.

You give him a sad smile, not wanting to bring up your past. “What I want doesn’t matter.” You insist, looking over at the window so you don’t see the rejection in his eyes. “This wasn’t something that was planned out and I’ll understand.” You promise, thinking about how this could completely upset his life.

“It absolutely does matter.” Marcus insists. Pieces of last night are starting to fall into place, along with some of this morning. It’s only a few paces for him to be standing next to you, with one hand gently touching your arm. “I texted my daughter last night. I told her what was happening. So it’s not like this is something that we’re just going to sweep under the rug.” Taking the risk on stepping around you, he puts one crooked finger under your chin and makes you meet his eyes. “Whatever happens, we’re going to decide on it together, okay? Which means we have to be honest with each other.”

“Oh god? Your daughter? She must be freaking out.” Your eyes fill with panic and you squeeze them shut. “I’m so sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have– this is–” You break off with a soft sob as you imagine how much his daughter must hate you. “Just–” You sigh. “Wanting to marry you was never a question for me. But you–I understand. I wasn’t it for you.”

“C’mere.” Marcus opens his arms, enveloping you in a full body bear hug. He trusts his instincts, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.” He says after a pause. Once of his hands runs up and down your back in a steady rhythm. “I’m sorry I was bad at explaining things to you. But we were 19 and I didn’t know how to tell you how confused I was.” This is somehow easier without looking you in the eyes, but it seems dishonest so he pulls away to look down at you. “I had every intention of marrying you.” The truth, out loud, after so many years makes him feel like even more of an asshole. “I didn’t plan on meeting her. I didn’t know she was out there. But...you’re the only two women I’ve ever loved. Just you two.” Come on, Marcus. Spit it out. “Then...I saw an article about you in a newspaper last year. And then you were on a talk show. I found your website. You were everywhere again and I realized how much I missed you. Not just...not just missed having a person. I missed you. So please don’t think I don’t care about you.”

It both broke your heart and helped mend it knowing that Marcus had been going to marry you. You knew that the heart wants what the heart wants as the old saying goes. Letting out a shuddering sigh, your body relaxes against him and your arms come around his waist hesitantly. Marcus was a good and honorable man, had been when he was a teenager. Of course the idea of falling in love with someone else had probably confused and terrified him. For so many years the idea had been set in stone that you were each other's person, that someone new had knocked him on his ass. From everything you had read about her, she was a wonderful woman who had loved Marcus and their daughter. A candle in the wind that had been blown out too early. “I– after your wife....passed, I–” You bite your lip and wonder if he's going to hate you for this, having wanted to do something, anything to help but wanting to respectfully keep your distance. "I was the one that had those meals delivered to your house." You confess softly. You knew from when your parents had passed that people brought more food than you could deal with right after they heard or to the reception following the funeral. Well meaning and heartfelt, but after that, their lives went back to normal while you tried to figure out exactly what your new normal was. Marcus Moreno's wife dying had been front page news nationwide, and you had hated that he was left to flounder with a seven year old. So you had quietly arranged to have meals delivered to their house for a while starting a few days after the funeral, asking them not to say who was the silent donor.

“Oh...” The word punches out of him and for a second he’s that heartbroken young version of himself that had discovered the meals and cried over them in his kitchen every time, wondering who had been so generous. Over the years, he had had many theories as to who had sent them, but it never would have occurred to him that it was you. “I always...” He pauses the thought, getting emotional all over again. “Those were a lifesaver. I had a hard time getting used to doing everything myself and... having one less thing on my plate made a huge difference.” His forehead drops to lean against yours, eyes momentarily closed so he doesn’t tear up. That wouldn’t help the situation at all. “Thank you.”

Your arms tighten around him, relieved that he hadn't taken your gesture the wrong way. "You're welcome." You whisper, not wanting to add anything more to that. It hadn't been for the recognition or for him to feel in some way in your debt, but you couldn't keep a secret like that from him when you both were trying to decide what to do about your current situation. "I never actually said it, but I'm so sorry for your loss, Marcus." You murmur quietly, the words muffled against the fabric of his suit, the same suit that he had married you in. You feel better, now that you've had this heart to heart. Even if Marcus didn't want to stay married to you, after all you were virtual strangers after twenty years apart, you felt like this wasn't something that you would regret. Old wounds and self doubts from that time had vanished, leaving your heart less scared than it had been and for that you would be grateful.

This time when Marcus sighs, it’s with a slight shiver and a mile’s worth of confusion. “What are we going to do?” He asks. Honestly he has no idea. He doesn’t regret sleeping with you again, but he’s guilt ridden at the idea that you’ve been forced into something so life changing. He’ll straighten things out with Missy once you’ve managed to talk things through here. The idea that you might actually want this is seeping slowly into his bones and he has a voice in the back of his head that says he doesn’t deserve any kind of relationship with you since he broke your heart.

"The obvious choice would be to quietly get divorced." You pull away and turn, kicking off the heels you had worn as you walk over to the window. You didn't want to see the relief in Marcus's face when you are the one to propose it. He had skirted around it but was too much of a gentleman to be the one to voice it first. He had even said something about you keeping the ring before you ever knew it wasn't a joke. "I– surely this has happened plenty of times. Maybe they would even allow an annulment since we were obviously far more intoxicated than we should have been." You look out over the lights of the Vegas strip and blink back the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks. "I'm not going to force you to stay married to me, you don't deserve that."

“You keep saying that like being married to you would be the worst thing in the world.” He protests, and all of a sudden it hits him like a freight train. He’s been trying to get you to say you want him, and he hadn’t really realized it. He hasn’t jumped on the idea of a divorce at all since it’s been brought up because he’s missed you. Miracle Guy is always saying that you don’t say anything drunk that you don’t feel when you’re sober and Marcus hates that his annoying best friend might be completely right this time. “What if we tried it?” He asks quietly. Almost afraid of what he’s saying but at the same time resolved to see what you think of this idea. “I mean...I don’t know where you’re living right now or anything like that...there’s logistics and stuff. But...what if?”

Your eyes are wide when you whirl around to face him, shock written on your face. "Wha— are you kidding?" You ask, praying that he isn't but then again, this is Marcus. He wouldn't joke around about something as serious as this. "Would you want that?" You ask quietly. "Not so there isn't a press release or to save face, but do you want to stay married? To me?" You bite your lip, feeling like you are naked in front of the entire world rather than trying to admit how you feel to one man, but this is the man that you have loved for your entire life. "I–I moved on, dated plenty, fell in love, got married." You need him to know that this hasn't just been about him, that you've had a life outside of him and the day he broke your heart. "Got divorced, but I've always kept you in my heart. I never hated you or stopped loving you."

“We’ve both had our own lives.” He agrees, taking one careful step toward you. He doesn’t want to spook you, but he also doesn’t want to shout this conversation between you across the living room of your suite. “Maybe this is the universe telling us that now we should be having a life together.” He believed in fate wholeheartedly, believing that fate brought his late wife into his path and Missy into their lives when they had struggled so hard to get pregnant. Fate’s hand was here, too. “You were my first love, and you’ve always had a place in my heart. Maybe...” Marcus takes one more careful step. “We said we loved each other on that video. Which means we must have talked about it. And...marriage is about communication and honesty as well as love.”

You watch his eyes, solemn and serious behind his glasses as he watches you. Gauging your reaction to his thoughts. Nodding, you yield, taking your own measured step towards him. "I wish I could remember what we said. I'm sure it would help if I could just know what we said to each other." You sigh, confessing your one hang up to all of this. "I just– I don't want to compete with her memory, Marcus." You whisper, struggling to keep your eyes on his. "I can't do that. I don't want to do that. It's not fair to me, or to you." He had reminded you it was about communication and honesty and you were laying your cards on the table.

Marcus feels himself nod, knowing you are completely right. But at the same time, there was a flip side to that coin. “And I don’t want to be competing with the memories you have of me.” It felt odd to say out loud. That your memories of him were different than the man he is now, even if he was still so similar to who he had been there in many ways. “You’re...you’re so amazing. You always have been and from what I know about you now, you’re doing great work and really succeeding. You’re not second to anyone. Not to me.” With one more step forward, he reaches out to take your hand. This is becoming so real with every passing second and his heart is pounding in his ears. “If we do this, it would be about who we are now. Memories are memories and that’s great, but I don’t want to get caught up in the fact that things turned out differently than we expected.”

You nod, understanding his point completely. "Still so smart." You murmur, inching closer and reaching up with your free hand to cup his cheek. You sigh when his eyes flutter at the contact and your pinkie sweeps over the stubble on his jaw. "I want to do this...if you do." You admit, your gaze focusing on his lips again and you want to kiss him. "I want to stay married to you and make this work. I want to be with you."

For Marcus, the scariest part of this wasn’t waking up this morning beside you, or how mad you had been in the beginning, or how upset with all of your old friends he is. It’s admitting to himself that he would be sad if you walked away from him. That the shock of everything was actually surpassed by how happy it is making him. How his tipsy texts to Missy were filled with so much hope, and despite her understandable confusion, she was doing what she could to be supportive. He would have to call her later and explain everything, but right now you’re right in front of him, telling him you care – and this time his head is spinning without the hangover. “You’re okay with being a stepmom?” He hears himself ask, cursing himself for ruining the moment but knowing this was the nail in the coffin. If you aren’t okay with his daughter, then this has no chance of working.

Your brow furrows and you know he sees the sorrow in your eyes. You hope he doesn't mistake it for not wanting to be a stepmom. "I– my ex and I tried for years to have kids." You admit quietly, remembering the heartbreak when you got your period every month. "It was the reason that we got divorced, he – he wanted kids and I couldn't give them to him." Your breath catches. "I don't – I've always wanted kids but I won't try to take over her mother’s place. Stepmom would be fine." You bite your lip and try to keep it from trembling. "I can't give you another baby though, are you– can you live with that?"

“I’m so sorry,” is the first thing he says, tugging you into his arms. He remembers how hard it was to try and try and feel like the world was against them for almost two years. “That must have been hell.” When he leans back to press a kiss to your forehead, he’s smiling a reassuring smile. “I don’t need anything else.” He tells you softly. “I just want you.”

Your doubts fall away, everything that had kept you from really believing that this was happening was gone. Your fingers curl into the hair at the base of his neck. "Marcus, " you look up at him and smile. "Kiss me. Please." You beg, wanting to remember this kiss that wasn't for show, wasn't for anyone else but the two of you.

“With pleasure,” his smile turns into a giddy grin. “Mrs. Moreno.” There’s no hesitation in the kiss - one hand reeling you in to him by your waist and the other tipping your chin back ever so slightly so he can taste you as soon as you open up to him.

You can't help but moan, your mouth opening and a whimper slipping out when his tongue flutters against yours. Your hands slide up to his back, fingers digging into the fabric while you try to get as close to him as you possibly can. Your entire body ignites, and you feel that pull of need.

Marcus echoes your moan, pulling you up in his arms until the only way to get physically closer is to be inside you - which is bringing his body back to life in all sorts of delicious ways. He’s fairly certain there’s a sofa behind him and takes a chance that he’s right - walking you back two steps until he tips backward with just enough warning to pick you up off your feet so you land on his lap. No one could ever say he doesn’t know how to use his strength to his advantage.

Your dress rides up your thighs, letting you straddle him easier. Making you shudder when his hands are warm on your bare skin. Your arms wind around his neck and you lift up to your knees so you can press closer, holding the back of his head while you give in to the kiss and groaning when his hands squeeze your flesh. "Marcus," you mumble against his lips, your tongue licking into his mouth and your cunt throbbing with need. "I want– fuck, I need you." You pull your mouth away from his and start kissing along his jaw. One hand coming back around him and sliding down his chest to reach between the two of you and your fingers find his belt. "I want to remember this."

Tangling one of his hands in yours to stop your eager pulling at his belt, Marcus wraps his lips around your pulse, sucking on your skin and nipping at it, tongue soothing away the sting. "Let me take care of you," he insists. It's not that he doesn't want to be inside you right fucking now, it's that he's not going to have sex with his wife for the first time (that he remembers) on a sofa. His free hand lifts from its grip on your hip and flexes, making him grin cheekily when you gasp at the feeling of your dress being unzipped without his hands on you. Katanas weren't the only metal he ever used his powers on. Reveling in your surprise, Marcus takes an extra second of concentration to undo the metal clasp of your bra as well. His eyes tip up to yours, blown black with anticipation and lust.

"That's new." You giggle, even more turned on by that move. Marcus hadn't tried his powers on you when you were younger. His mother cautioned him to not abuse his powers and his sometimes lack of control over them had made him wary of trying manipulate your clothing. He grins and winks at you, making you whimper at the self assuredness he has come to possess. "Jesus." You pant, wondering if he remembers that one little detail about you that was so different from when you were together the first time. He would find out soon enough you supposed, and hoped that he wasn't too shocked by it. You had definitely gone through a wild phase in college, but you didn't regret it.

He’d have time to be pleased with himself later, right now he cared much more about the way you were subtly grinding down in his lap, making him harder with every passing second. “Shit, sweetheart.” He huffs, bucking up against you before he can stop himself. His hands skim under the bunched hen of your dress, nudging the material. His powers nudge at him a little and he dismisses it as a reminder of your dress’s zipper, but the feeling is coming from somewhere different. Marcus quirks one eyebrow at you, intrigued by your expression of amusement, and pulls your dress over your head - tossing it and your bra several feet away. “Jesus, hermosa!” He groans, his hands immediately coming up to cup your breasts, mesmerized by the piercings he definitely did not remember being there before. How he didn’t remember them last night, he doesn’t know. “How do you keep getting hotter?”

You smirk, loving the awe that is in his eyes as he stares at the hoops in your nipples. “You like?” You tease, feeling how much he likes them from the way that his hips bucked up again when you arched into his touch, pushing your tits into his hands harder. “I got them in college– after we –” You weren’t going to keep feeling embarrassed about your past, or trying to deny it. “Took my clit piercing out because my ex hated it, but I couldn’t get rid of these.” You admit, remembering how he had hated them, refused to touch your tits when you had them in. But it was for you, not him, and you had stubbornly refused to give in to his wants.

Marcus almost pouts over the fact that he was losing out on playing with a clit piercing, but when he trains his eyes on your tits and watches you writhe with pleasure as he twists the little hoops with his powers, he’s so hard it doesn’t matter anymore. “Need to taste you,” he mumbles into your skin, tongue laving over your nipples where he’s been playing with them. Marcus lifts you off his lap, turning a little to settle you down in the pile of throw pillows on the sofa. “Will you let me taste you, hermosa?”

You moan, his fingers curling under your panties and you nod, lifting your hips up so that he can drag them down your thighs. You spread your legs wider, modesty and being shy throw out the window. You bite your lip and squirm, your own hands on your breasts while Marcus rocks back, hastily shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it down on the floor with no thought. “Fuck you look pretty like that.” He groans, flicking the buttons of his shirt open and taking off his glasses to toss on the floor, hopefully to not get crushed later on. You whine, needing him to hurry up and you let go of one of your breasts to slide it down to your mound, circling your clit with your fingers while you watch him strip.

“Nuh-uh,” Marcus grabs your hand, pulling your fingers away from your clit and licks them clean with a stern look on his face. “Only I get to touch and taste you right now.” He tells you and revels in your moan. Positioning your ankles on the edge of the couch, he takes in your spread-open pussy with a lascivious smirk. “So fucking pretty,” he praises before leaning down and sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your hips jerk up and a squeal breaks free at the insistent feel of his mouth. Control looks so fucking sexy on Marcus. The fumbling boy that was asking if what he was doing was okay was gone, replaced by a man who was confident in his ability to please. You squeeze your breast and moan when his tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves, closing your eyes. Only for them to spring back open in shock when he pulls his mouth away and lightly slaps your folds. "Eyes on me, baby." His lust-rough voice makes you shiver and you meet his satisfied gaze, making him quirk his eyebrows, pleased at your obedience before he puts his mouth back on you.

Part of Marcus had been slightly concerned that the more dominant style of pleasure he’d adopted since knowing you wouldn’t be something you enjoyed, but from the way you are panting and mewling above him as he spears his tongue as deep into you as he can manage, he knows now that it’s more than welcome. He hums his approval into your folds, his nose intentionally bumping against your clit with every stroke of his tongue. He could look up at you like this forever – shivering and shuddering but keeping your eyes on him like he ordered. “Don’t even think about cumming until I tell you.” He punctuates the sentence by driving two fingers deep inside you, sliding along your tight folds gripping him so well that he moans along with you.

You whimper and try to grind your hips down on him, but he throws his free arm around your hips and jerks them up high, practically holding your ass up while he utterly destroys you with his mouth. Pleas and praises fall from your lips as you try to stave off your impending orgasm. "Oh God, oh fuck Marcus." You whine, watching him pump his fingers into your fluttering cunt and his nose is pressed against the neatly trimmed hair above your clit. "So good, so fucking good." Your walls clench around him and you squeal again when he curls his fingers up. "Oh please, God – I'm so close." You ramble, scratching at the couch and trying to keep from cumming so hard that your thighs are starting to shake. "Please baby, please let me cum."

It’s the first of what he intends to be many orgasms today, so he eases a third finger into you and watches your face contort for a second before nibbling on your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me baby. Wanna drown in this taste. In you.”

His permission given, you fly off the cliff and wail his name while your walls clamp down on his fingers. Flooding them with your juices and your entire body humming in pleasure while he keeps sucking on you. Making stars burst behind your eyes, you can't help but squeeze them shut and tilt your head back against the cushions while you thrash around in pleasure and make so much noise you are sure that there will be a noise complaint coming soon.

There are few things, in Marcus Moreno’s opinion, better than having a woman cum in his mouth. Something made even better by the fact that he knows he’ll have your scent lingering in his mustache for the rest of the day. He curls his fingers against that perfect spongy spot inside you and hums in delight as your second orgasm follows the first without warning. Hearing you scream his name might be the most musical sound he’s heard in a very long time. “Listen to you,” his voice is like honey. “Screaming my name for everybody to hear. Now they know you belong to me.”

He takes pity, taking his mouth off of you and slipping his fingers out to let you calm down while he savors the flood of your juices on his fingers, alternately kissing the insides of your thighs while he coos praises from where he kneels on the floor.

Your cunt throbs and your walls flutter around nothing now that he's pulled his fingers from you, the low sigh that you let out sounding as boneless as you feel. Your entire body relaxes with your eyes turning heavy and slipping closed from how good you feel. "Oh God." You whisper, reaching down and carding your fingers through his hair and lifting your head so you can look down at him. "I want– no, I need you inside me." You beg, looking over at the bed that was so beautifully set with rose petals. "Please, I want my husband to make love to me."

Marcus’s lips curl into a smile, much gentler than he had been a second ago and he stands up, cock red and weeping from neglect, hard as diamonds as it bobs a few inches from your face. He sees the hungry look in your eyes and shakes his head slightly – instead leaning down to scoop you up in his arms and carry you over to the bed. Marcus has absolutely no desire to pull back the covers, laying you down on top of the rose petals like a beautiful gift. He sighs, loving the sight of you like that, devastated and shaken from intense orgasms but beaming at him at the same time. “I love you,” he tells you, crawling up on the bed between your legs as they open for him. “I’m glad our classmates meddled. And I’m so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart.”

You reach for him, your arms wrapping around his back, so much broader than the last time you remember him being over you like this. His body no longer lean and wiry with youth, but broad and filled out deliciously with age. “I love you.” You whisper, your heart beating like a drum in your chest from happiness. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” You assure him, leaning up to kiss him and drag him back down over you. Wanting the weight of him on top of you. “Want you to fuck me… husband.”

“So impatient when I’m trying to be romantic,” the chuckle comes from deep inside him, the same rough, lusty place that had him taking his cock in his cum slick hand, and pumping a few times before sliding the head through your folds. “So wet for me,” he groans, happy to know he was the one who had made you that way. “You ready for me, good girl?”

"Yes." You whine out, eager to feel him stretch you out again. You know you had him last night, but you didn't remember more than a few flashes of memories and the ache you had felt when you woke up. You cup his cheek and watch his face when he starts to slowly push inside you. Your own mouth falling open with a needy moan filling the air while your walls give to accommodate him, making your hips lift slightly to make sure that every inch of him is inside you when his hips are flush against your own.

“ Fuck,” he bites out the curse as he bottoms out inside you, knowing he looks as absolutely wrecked as he feels just from being inside you again. “So tight, hermosa. So tight around my cock.” The authoritative voice from a few minutes ago rumbles from his core as he lifts one of your legs up onto his shoulder, watching your mouth drop open even wider. He draws back again until only his tip is still inside you, snapping his hips back against yours with a pleased grunt, and then again to hear you moan. “That’s it, baby.” He leans down to kiss you, greedily drinking down every sound you make.

He's so fucking deep inside you. Making you feel like he's pushing up into your stomach and rearranging your insides with every hard thrust. You love it, love how he's not being gentle even though you know he's holding back. Now fully aware of why you ached for hours after you woke up, you wanted to feel that way again. Loving how much he had changed over the years and it makes you crave to find out every way that he differed from the boy you knew. You gasp out on his next thrust. "Oh god!" You cry out when he changes the angle of his hips and hits directly against your g-spot.

Marcus focuses on that spot, loving the way you call out and wanting you to cum one more time for him before he lets his restraint snap. He knows he’s different in bed than he had been when you knew him - no longer worried about being enough or whether or not he was reading your body correctly. He knew he was stronger now, more confident, and a better lover; and he was careful to keep himself in check so he wouldn’t go too hard this time. He nips and sucks at every bit of skin he can reach as the sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room. Unable to resist, Marcus focuses just enough of his powers on those little hoops through your perfect nipples to make them hum and vibrate, shoving you closer to the edge.

“M-Mar-cus!” You cry out, the very air being pushed from your lungs every time he drives deep inside you. Your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving crescent shaped marks in his flesh and you clench down on him when he moans. “Yes, yes, yes!” You scream out when your entire world shatters and the subatomic explosion in your core radiates white hot and all-consuming as you come apart for him.

He grunts, held so tight by the way that you’re clamping down on him that he can barely move and it’s absolutely delicious. Marcus makes one more thrust before he’s groaning your name and painting your still-spasming walls with his seed. He drops his head against your shoulder, panting and wonderfully spent.

Your leg slides down off his shoulder and you let it wrap around his hip while your hand glides up and down his back. The touch is soothing - his skin under your fingers and as you relearn the planes of his back. “I love you.” You whisper, holding him close and enjoying the weight of him on top of you.

“I love you too,” he breathes a kiss on your lips, running one hand up and down your side. The contours of your body have changed as you got older and he is determined to memorize your body as soon as possible. “Don’t want to crush you,” he murmurs into your kiss, shifting his body off of you but tugging you close to his side as he lays down.

You sigh and roll over with him. Resting your head on his shoulder and stroke his chest gently. “So, I have to admit, I never expected this to happen at the reunion.” You giggle, unable to believe that this is real.

“I don’t think anyone did.” He agrees, but laughs. “Well, maybe Susan.” He plants a kiss on the top of your head before lifting himself off the mattress and padding off to the bathroom for a damp wash cloth to clean you up. When he re-emerges he has the bottle of champagne in hand as well.

You giggle again and raise your eyebrow at him. “Ready to drink already?” You ask playfully, making him snort in amusement. “At some point we are going to have to pack up our old rooms to check out.” You remind him.

“And I have to call Missy.” Marcus nods his head, disappointed to have to come back to reality. “She’s fantastic,” he assures you, squeezing your hand and kissing your palm. “You’re going to love her. And she’ll love you. But drunk texts from your dad are no way to find out he’s in a relationship.”

“No it’s not.” You agree, standing up with a groan and taking the wash cloth so you can quickly clean up. “How about I get dressed and go pack up my room so you can have some privacy to talk to your daughter?” You ask, knowing that he would probably want to be alone for that conversation.

“Hurry back?” He’s pouting and he doesn’t care.

You smirk and lean in to kiss him once more. “I will. You will need to pack up your room too.” You remind him before you pull away to walk over to where your clothes had been flung.

“I’ll do it after I talk to Missy,” he promises. It takes a minute or two for him to track down his pants and find the room key, holding the spare hostage until you pay the ransom of three more kisses. “And then we’re gonna be naked for the rest of the day.”

You hum, smiling against his lips as you pluck the card from his fingers. “So I guess that means you don’t want to see the lingerie I brought just in case I got lucky?” You murmur.

“Minx.” He teases, but that fire is back in his eyes. “Put it on before I get back.”

You smirk and walk to the door. "Sure thing baby." You tease, winking at him before you open the door and disappear down the hallway.

******

In the weeks since returning from his reunion, Marcus had done his fair share of groveling. Missy had been at her abuela's while he was away and both of them were (understandably) fiercely upset with him for the way things happened. It was two full weeks before Missy stopped being mad at him, and only then had his mother agreed to be the one to host everyone for dinner. She had loved you when you and Marcus were teens and was glad to see that you were the one who was making him happy again. The night you'd all had dinner together she made ropa vieja and the biggest pot of rice and beans that Marcus had seen in years, and he knew exactly how glad she was to see you - your favourite foods laid out on the table for everyone to enjoy.

You'd agreed that you would keep your apartment until the end of the month, giving Missy time to adjust to you being around the house. She had warmed up to you quickly, finding you much more entertaining company than her dad for any number of things. She had even helped you unpack when you moved into the house with them after leaving your apartment.

These days Missy could be spotted teaching you her favourite cookie recipe and raiding your jewelry box some days before school. It warmed Marcus's heart to see the two of you bonding, relieving him in equal measure.

******

"You know, I'm so glad dad doesn't cook breakfast anymore." Missy rolls her eyes and you snicker conspiratorially. You love this little girl like she is your own. She's an easy girl to love and you are so thankful that it worked out that she doesn't hold your intrusion in her life against you.

“You aren't telling me that your dad is a bad cook, are you?" You ask, arching your eyebrow at him while you whisk the eggs for the omelets.

She rolls her eyes again. "Dad burned everything! We once ate mac and cheese for breakfast because that was all he could make without messing up."

"I do not burn everything!" Marcus has a very serious look on his face. "I would never, ever burn bacon."

You laugh and lean back, tilting your head so that Marcus can kiss you. "Mmmm." You smile against his lips and pull away so he can move past you. "Okay maybe not bacon but cracking eggs down the sink and throwing the shells in a bowl, Marcus?" You giggle, watching him flush and rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"That was one time!" he pouts, embarrassed. Missy was never going to let him live that down. "And that was a very stressful day, thank you very much." He shuffles over to the coffee pot when it dings, grateful to have a distraction. The smell is divine, those beans you love had turned his morning cup into something divine from the perfunctory wake-up it had been before. "Big mug or little, babe?" He asks you, pulling spoons out of the drawer and his favourite mug out of the cupboard.

"Little." You answer, your stomach feeling queasy. "I'm still not feeling one hundred percent." You admit, hating that you had this stomach bug that you couldn't seem to get over. You had been sick over the weekend and had put a damper on your plans and you were still feeling guilty over it.

Marcus still hadn't said anything about you not feeling well. He had tucked you in and gotten you plain things to eat and drink, letting you rest until you felt better. He dared to hope that he knew what was wrong - recognizing the little signs from years ago. He got out a little mug, fixed your coffee for you and slipped the mug down the counter, watching you carefully. "If you're still not feeling well maybe you should go to the doctor?" He suggests gently. A doctor would be able to confirm or squash his idea immediately, but he wouldn't push you.

You shake your head. "No, I don't need to go to the doctor." You’re still stubborn about seeing doctors after all those appointments that your ex had forced you to go to. It made you anxious for any type of clinical setting. You give Marcus a soft smile, and pick your cup up. "Thank you, sweetheart." You thank him as you lift the cup to your lips and take a sip. As soon as the hot beverage hits your lips your gag. Your stomach rolling and you drop the mug, shattering on the edge of the counter and you cover your mouth, running for the half bathroom that was down the hallway.

Marcus shifts gears quickly, grabbing a rag to scoop up the broken stoneware and toss the whole bundle in the trash. "Be right back," he tells Missy, hurrying down the hall after you.

He finds you bent over the toilet for the fourth time in four days and kneels down next to you to make sure there's no hair in your face or clothing soiled. "Babe?" His eyes betray how worried he is, but he tries not to show it on his face. "Was it the coffee?"

"Oh God." You moan, hanging your head and mouth waters again at just the mention of the coffee. "Did the creamer go bad?" You ask, cursing the fact that your stomach was so queasy and you couldn't shake this bug. You retch again, but luckily you hadn't eaten anything else so there wasn't anything more to come up.

"I brought it home yesterday." He runs his hand up and down your back, soothing and supportive. "I didn't want anything old in the house, just in case."

You pant, nodding while you reach up weakly and pull the handle for the toilet so the coffee and bile from your stomach start to flush down, resting your head and on your arm for a second before you look up at your husband. "I'm so sorry. I know this is annoying to deal with." You whisper, hating that he is having to take care of you.

"It's not." Marcus promises. Stepping away for just a second, he wets a washcloth with warm water and offers it to you to clean up. He's learned over the past few days that keeping a washcloth and your toothbrush nearby was a very good idea. "Don't apologize, love. But...I do think it might be more than a bug." He hates how much he hopes he's right. You had talked about it. It wasn't something in your plans. You had told him it was impossible. But he couldn't help but hope you might actually be pregnant.

You frown and immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion. "Cancer?" You whisper, your eyes widen, and you pray God wouldn't be so cruel as to do this to Marcus.

"No, baby." Marcus has to stop himself from laughing at how you went straight to the other side of the illness spectrum. He presses a kiss to your hair, breathing out slowly. "I think you might be pregnant."

You rear back, your frown fierce and you step out of his arms. "Marcus, I– we talked about this." You tell him flatly, trying not to raise your voice. Anger and sorrow swirling inside you. "I can't have kids, so I can't be pregnant." Your jaw sets and you look at him warily. "I knew– God, I knew that this would happen." You mumble.

Marcus sets himself down on the tile next to you, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. "I don't have my hopes up." A blatant lie. He absolutely does have his hopes up. "And I don't think it's likely," at least that was true. "But...I've been through this before, with Missy. I remember what it looks like. And I know not all pregnancies look the same, but humour me." His smile is soft, trying to be encouraging and as supportive as possible. "I'll go down to the store and grab a test. When it comes up negative like you think it will, we'll drop it and I'll give you foot rubs all night to apologize for even thinking it. Is that a deal?”

You want to say no. Want to scream that you've taken enough tests for a lifetime and cried enough tears when every single one of them came back negative. The doctors had never been able to tell you why you couldn't get pregnant, just that it wasn't happening. Of course it had caused some horrible arguments that had eventually led to your divorce. However, Marcus isn't your ex, and you see nothing but worry in his eyes. So you find yourself nodding, biting your lip as you agree. "Okay." You tell him quietly, feeling him squeeze your hand gently.

"Okay." He sighs with relief that you're willing to take the test, knowing that it's a hard thing for you to agree to. He helps you up off the floor, staying with you while you brush your teeth, and then tucks you into the couch with the remote in your hand before he heads out. Missy has already put the eggs and veggies from the forgotten omelets back in the fridge and gotten herself a bowl of cereal. "I'll be right back," he tells both of you, grabbing his jacket and wallet from the sideboard by the front door. "Don't burn the house down while I'm gone."

"Bye dad!" Missy calls out sarcastically. She finishes her cereal and comes out to the living room with you. Obviously worried from the way that she keeps looking over at you. Picking at the edge of the armchair she was sitting in; you can see that she's wanting to ask you what's wrong. "I'm okay sweetie. You can get ready for school. The bus should be here soon." You remind her, glancing at the clock on the DVR.

“You sure?” Missy has come around to you faster than she expected to, learning to like having you as part of her day and fully appreciating that home cooked meals are actually pretty good now. She’s been up front about the fact that she’s not ready to call you mom, and you’ve promised her she never has to if she’s not comfortable with it. She calls you by your name, and just the fact that you’re not trying to force yourself on her has made all the difference in the world. What happened was kinda screwed up, but it’s turning out okay.

"I'm sure." You assure her, giving her a small smile. Missy grins, reassured, and hops up. "Okay! I have to get ready for the audition today."

You sit up a little straighter and call up the stairs as she thunders up them. "I want to hear all about it when you get home!" You call out. "And we'll make cookies!"

******

When Marcus gets back from the store he has a little bag with him – your favorite M&Ms and a bottle of that raspberry tea you love sitting alongside the box of pregnancy tests. “Missy got to the bus stop on time?” He asks, having just missed her.

"Yes, she did." You smile, remembering her exuberant goodbye as she raced out the door. "She was excited for her audition, and I promised we would make cookies when she gets home." You know you are probably spoiling her by baking nearly every day after school, but she loves it and it’s good bonding time for the two of you. Plus, the Heroics love when Marcus brings in the leftovers every morning. You catch sight of the bag and look up at him nervously. "Marcus..."

“I know.” He bobs his head apologetically. He knows this is hard for you. You’ve talked it out before while you explained things that had caused you anxiety with your ex. Marcus had been determined never to touch a single one of those things, but he could feel it in his bones that he was right. “I...um...when I was at the store. I realized...you haven’t had your period since we got married. So even if this comes up negative and I give you apology foot rubs until the end of time, I think we should see a doctor anyway. In case something is wrong.” He pulls out the M&Ms and holds them out flat in his palms to you like a sacrifice. “Please don’t be mad at me. I just want to take care of you.”

You give him an amused smile, taking the M&Ms gratefully. "I know you do." You admit, knowing he is nothing like your ex. He had never made you think he was upset by you not being able to have kids, so you had realized your fear was purely out of instinct. "I'm not upset at you, I promise." You sigh and throw the blanket off your legs, getting up and cupping his cheek. "I just don't want you to be disappointed."

Marcus smiles, a little lopsided, and pulls you up into his arms. “How could I ever be disappointed when I have you for my wife?”

You laugh, comforted by the fact that your husband always seems to know what to say to put you at ease. "I guess it's a good thing that I have to pee." You joke, holding out your hand for the box. "Are you going to want to be in the bathroom while I do this?" You ask, tilting your head at him curiously.

“If that’s okay with you.” He presses a kiss to your cheek.

You nod. "Okay, sweetheart. How about we go upstairs to our bathroom, rather than crowding into the hall bath again."

“Anywhere you’re more comfortable.” With your hand in his, Marcus takes the stairs one by one right beside you. “Tea to make you pee?” He giggles at his own stupid rhyme, holding out the bottle of tea. God, he just wants you to be okay. No matter what the outcome was.

You giggle even as you roll your eyes, taking the bottle of tea. “You are such a dork.” You tease him, making him scrunch his nose up and lean in to kiss you when you reach the top of the stairs.

“But I’m your dork.” He argues, making you smile.

“Yes you are my dork.” You kiss him again and sigh. “Let’s get this over with. My bladder is starting to scream at me.”

You’re past the awkward stage of being in the bathroom together, and Marcus perches himself on the counter beside the sink while you take the test. “It’s just peace of mind,” he reminds you. “There’s a bug going around Missy’s school and that might be all it is. This is just checking one possible cause off the list.” He’s rambling and trying to be as kind as he can, not letting silence linger so you can’t sink into bad memories. He never wants any pressure between you, and he knows he signed up for no more kids. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be thrilled if it turned out to be true, but it means he’s not expecting it.

You know why he is talking so much, and you appreciate it. Although it’s not necessary. Once the test is sitting on the back of the toilet, you wash your hands and step over to your husband, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing when you feel the warmth of his embrace. “I love you.” You whisper, conflicted about looking at the test. Part of you just wants to tell Marcus to look to satisfy his own questions, but you know that will hurt his feelings.

"I love you, too, sweetheart." He murmurs back, gently peppering kisses in your hair and all over your face until you can't help but giggle. It's a long three minutes. By far the longest three minutes of your entire relationship, past or present. When the timer on your phone goes off, he squeezes you tightly in his arms. "Do you want to look or do you want me to do it?" He asks quietly.

You bite your lip and look up at him, falling more in love with him when you don’t see any judgment in his eyes. “You look.” You whisper, having seen enough negative tests to last a lifetime. “I know what it will say.”

"It's just peace of mind." He says again, but somewhere along the line he's gotten mixed up about whose mind needs the peace. Marcus slips off the counter, squeezing you again before he lets go and steps over to the toilet. He catches himself, not wanting you to hear him hold his breath. Willing himself to look normal and calm, Marcus leans over to look at the most important piece of plastic he's seen in years.

He's grateful that he's facing away from you because he knows how wide his eyes have blown. "Baby..." His voice waivers, carefully picking up the test and staring down at the little plus sign in the window. He's on the verge of exploding, trying not to get excited before he sees your reaction. He has no idea what you'll say when you see this.

You sigh, knowing that despite what he said, when you hear his voice catch, you know he had been hopeful. “I’m sorry Marcus, I really am.” You turn around and rub your hand up his quivering back. “It’s– I’m sorry.” You shouldn’t apologize but you do. “I’ll make a doctor’s appointment to find out what’s wrong.”

"Honey." Marcus inhales softly, turning around to face you and practically cradling the test in his hand. "You should look at this."

“I don’t—" You freeze when you see the face of the test, your heart stopping or skipping several beats as you stare at the positive result. You make a noise that can’t even be described and rip your eyes away from the test to look up at Marcus. “Is that– Marcus, it that…positive?” You whisper, not daring to believe it. You’ve taken hundreds of tests and never even gotten a false positive.

"It is," he nods his head. He's trying so, so hard to keep a poker face until he can figure out how you feel about this but he's not sure how well he's doing. "It's positive, babe."

Your lower lip trembles and your eyes are already starting to fill with tears. “Positive means…I’m pregnant?” You whisper, staring back down at the test again, your lips starting to pull into a wide, ecstatic smile. “Marcus, I’m pregnant!”

The relief he feels at seeing you light up is palpable. He drops the test on the counter and scoops you up in his arms, feeling you grin against his neck as you hug the life out of each other. "You're pregnant," he whispers it against your lips, grinning along with you. "We're pregnant."

“Oh my God.” You sob out, the tears streaming down your face definitely ones of joy as you kiss your husband over and over again. “We’re, oh! I have to make an appointment. A blood test just to be certain, but I’ve never, ever had a positive test Marcus.”

"We'll call in a minute." His thumbs gently swipe away the tears running down your cheeks. Marcus is fairly certain he's never seen you this happy before, even in the video of your wedding. "We'll get the tests done and get you checked out, okay? Make sure everything is okay and get the coffee out of the kitchen so it won't make you sick again." He'd switch to tea and energy drinks in a heartbeat. This was the best reason in the world to have to change his routine.

You can’t help but beam up at him, excitement humming through your veins, and you feel like you could move mountains at this moment. “Later.” You tell him, pulling him to you for another kiss. “First I want you to take me to bed. Celebrate the little one the exact same way we created them.”

"My girl's always so eager." Marcus nips at your bottom lip, hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass tightly with both hands. "So gorgeous when you're excited, hermosa." His kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck. One hand snakes around to rest over your belly. "Going to look even better growing my baby inside you."

You whimper at his words, never thinking that you would actually hear them in this context. It was so much sweeter that it had happened with Marcus. "I can't believe it." You admit, loving how his hardness is growing at your hip, twitching with growing need. "You like the idea of me fat and pregnant with your baby? Mood swings and sensitive tits?" You had thought your breasts being sensitive was just because of your oncoming period, the one that Marcus had noticed you missing. Being sick and the upheaval of combining your lives had just made you think that it was delayed. You had been late plenty of times with a negative test for you to trust your cycle.

“I’ll end up getting really protective,” he admits, stroking his thumb over the place your tiny baby has decided to settle in and grow. “I went a little crazy with the whole thing before Missy was born. But I’m your man for 3am snack runs, foot massages, a good solid fucking whenever and wherever you want, and keeping every doctor’s appointment scheduled so you don’t have to worry about it.” He already knows you will hate the doctor’s visits. All the poking and prodding will probably give you serious flashbacks, but he will be there to hold your hand every step of the way.

"I love you." You close your eyes and curl into his body, loving how much he is already putting you at ease. "I– Marcus I want you to take me to bed and give me that good solid fucking, and then I want to schedule our first appointment for our baby." You breathe out, your voice wavering slightly with the overwhelming emotions that are coursing through you. "And I can't wait to see protective daddy mode."

Marcus growls playfully, fusing his mouth to yours instantly. It is only a few steps to walk you backward from the en-suite into your bedroom, and he can make the walk from muscle memory alone. “Glad I called out of work,” he mumbles against your lips, already reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. “Gonna spend all day celebrating with you.”

You hum, smiling as he pulls back to lift your shirt over your head. "You seem to like that." You tease playfully, reaching down and cupping his hard length over his jeans. "Spending all day in bed with your wife."

He hisses at your touch, but can’t stop smiling. “Maybe I’m just really, really in love with you.” It’s no word of a lie. The last two months had proved to him that you were always meant to be a part of his life and he had grown exponentially more in love with you every single day. “And maybe I’m also turned on by how excited you are.”

"Mmmm." You love how open and honest he is with you. "I am excited and I want to show you just how excited I am." You normally let Marcus take control in the bedroom, reveling in his more dominant side, but right now you push him back from you slightly, smirking at his confusion as you look at him. "Strip." You order, biting your lip and looking at him in challenge.

His smile quickly morphed into a smirk. “Yes ma’am.” Never one to disobey a pregnant wife, Marcus pulls his t-shirt up over his head and tosses it aside, aiming for the laundry basket but failing miserably since he can’t take his eyes off of you. His favourite trick - undoing a zipper with his powers - comes in handy here and reveals that he hadn’t bothered to put underwear on this morning when he got out of the shower. Stiff and proud, his cock bobs when it’s free of his jeans and his smirk turns darker when he sees your eyes travel south and you bite your bottom lip. “See something you like?” He teases.

You inhale sharply, your own need making you reach for your clothes. "Fuck yes." You moan. "Get on the bed." You order him again, pulling your own shirt over your head and watching him lay down before you push the leggings and underwear you had been wearing down your legs and kick them off. He watches you as you kneel on the bed, making you smirk when he groans, your hands trailing lightly up his thighs. Bending down, your tongue runs up the length of him before coming back down, moving past his shaft and down to the hot and generously full balls beneath. Your lips press against them and you hear his moan when your tongue swipes at the soft skin. Paying special attention to the part of him that had given you such joy.

There is something about the gentleness of your caresses that lights a fire in Marcus as much as his normal rough and ready does. Making love is different than fucking with you - both are intense and highly pleasurable - but lovemaking always seems to press primal buttons in him that keep him close and doting on you for days. He knows that there will be more of this to come, but the sweet way you kiss his body is already making him squirm.

"Never thought I would get to have a baby." You admit, knowing he already knows this, but you feel like it needs to be said. Your lips press against his skin again and again in praise and worship, teasing and admiring. "But you, you gave me one." You realize now that it was your ex that was the issue. He had never shared the results of his tests, claiming they were normal, that you were the problem. Your nails scratch at the skin on his hips while you move up to let your tongue flutter around his frenulum. "Strong, virile and all mine." You whisper.

Marcus preens under your praise, feeling like there’s nothing at all special about him but if you say he’s special to you, then he believes it. Moans litter his responses to your touch, one hand slipping into your hair so he can make sure to see as much of his cock disappearing into your mouth as possible. “Anything for you,” he pants, humming in pleasure. “Try as much as you want or just love the hell out of this baby now.”

You moan around his cock, loving how he wants to give you options, leaving it up to you. "I'll be greedy later." You murmur, pulling off of him and kissing the tip of him, feeling his twitching where your hand is wrapped around the base. "Right now I just want to love the hell out of my baby daddy," you tease, winking up at him before you lick him again. He moans again and you release him, kissing up his stomach before you straddle him. Your dripping core pressing against his cock.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He promises. He gently strokes your clit, loving the way you let him watch your slick cunt slide up and down his length before you sink down on him. His hips buck, already looking more than a little wrecked as his eyes plead with you to keep going.

Your eyes roll back, a soft moan filling the air at how full you feel. His cock fits perfectly inside you and while you know it's all in your mind, you feel more sensitive than you were last night when he had taken you. Your walls flutter around him while you grind down on him and circle your hips slowly, relishing the way that he grabs onto your hips to try to control himself.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he repeats, hissing when you grind down harder into his lap same he plants his feet flat on the bed to fuck up into you with more force. “Yours to use.” There’s a flash of dominance in the statement as he tells you what to do, but he is relinquishing control to you. Letting you set the pace and take what you need.

You moan, jostled on his cock and you love how he hits. Leaning down, you don’t miss how his eyes drift down to your tits, where they are brushing against his chest. “Marcus.” You whine, wanting his mouth on them. You push your chest towards his mouth.

He gladly latches on to one tit, tracing your piercing with his tongue and palming the other to give equal attention. He’s found out that the best way to make you squeal is to play with your tits with his powers, so the hard peak pressing against his palm receives a jolt of energy - just enough to be pleasurable before the threshold of pain. He explores with sucking kisses, already having memorized your body but always wanting to praise your peaks and valleys. He’s sure to leave live bites littered across your torso that the doctor will see but politely not comment on, and he loves it.

Your walls tighten around him, making your hips jerk when he tugs on the piercing with his teeth gently. "Oh fuck baby." you pant out, bouncing on him faster. Your walls slide up and down his shaft, your thighs burning from the fast pace that you start, needing him urgently and wanting to fall apart on him.

He knows that look on your face. He has dirty dreams about that face even though he sees it at least once a day. You’re so close that you would normally be begging if he were in charge. Begging for permission to soak his cock in your release, screaming his name as you came. Marcus loves that look.

He swaps his attention to your other breast and snakes his hand down between you to rub your clit, pushing you even further toward your peak. His spine is tingling deliciously and he knows he’s going to follow you right over the edge.

"Oh God, oh fuck, Marcus." You whimper, barreling closer to cumming, especially when he brings his hand down to rub your clit. The perfect pressure that you love against the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Oh fuck!" You cry out, your body jerking and you collapse on his chest, trying to grind your hips down to keep moving while you cum around him.

He fucks your through your orgasm, rhythmless thrusts jerking deep inside you until thick ropes of his cum paint your cunt and claim it as his. Marcus holds you tight to his chest as you both come down from your high, peppering kisses in your hair and finding your lips sweet, loving kisses. “I guess this is what happens when we never use protection,” he jokes, catching his breath while still inside you.

Your breath catches when you realize that. "Oh God." Your brow furrows and you pull back to look down at him seriously. "I– Marcus I didn't mean for this– how do you feel about this?" You ask. Logically, you know he is happy, he wouldn't have reacted the way that he did, but you had told him that you were safe. That you couldn't have children and now you are pregnant. That miniscule part of you feels like you tricked him into this and that is what is prompting this moment.

“Sweetheart...” he sees the worry in your eyes. The flash of guilt. “Baby, I’m thrilled .” He promises. “Please don’t think of this as some kind of accident.” His arms tighten around you, cradling your body against his. “This is a gift. You never thought you’d get to be a mother and now you can be. Honestly? I love being a dad. And Missy will be a fantastic big sister. Our family is growing and that’s a beautiful thing to be grateful for.”

You slump down against him, relieved by his reassurances. You press your lips to his and sigh, happy that you got to be with this man again. That you were able to even be where you are right now. "I love you, Mr. Moreno." You whisper, smiling against his lips and closing your eyes when his arms tighten around you. "So very much. I am so happy that we got married at our reunion. Best drunk decision I've ever made."

Marcus presses a playful, smacking kiss to your lips. “I wonder who won the bet?” He muses, waggling his eyebrows. “How many of our classmates do you think bet on you getting pregnant on our honeymoon?”

You snicker and bite your lip, contemplating. "Susan and Tim for sure." You guess, grinning down at him. "We will have to announce it on the app after we confirm it with the doctor and see who crows the loudest." You suggest, leaning down and kissing him again.

“We should call the doctor,” he mumbles, now kissing down your jaw and the line of your neck. He absolutely doesn't want to pull out of you even though he’s gone soft inside you, but neither of you has a cell phone nearby and it’s a very important appointment to make.

You murmur a soft protest but start to get off of him. "I guess it's for the best." You grumble before you flash him a grin. "I have to pee again."

“Get ready for a lot of that.” With one more kiss, Marcus lets you off of him and follows you into the bathroom to clean up. “You’re going to be a great mom,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand tight and pressing a kiss to your palm. “You’re so good with Missy already. You’re going to be amazing.”

"I hope so." You tell him, nervous but eager to face the challenges that come with motherhood. You break away from him so you can go use the bathroom and clean up. Watching Marcus pick up the pregnancy test and pad out of the room while you finish up, you hear him on the phone, murmuring too low for you to hear and you smile to yourself, your hand drifting down to cover your stomach protectively.

Miracles do happen it seems.

You're married to the first man you've ever loved and are now carrying his baby. You smile, looking down at the test you couldn't resist taking while you were cleaning up. Another pink plus sign, making you truly grateful.

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

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Moreno #Marcus Moreno x you #Marcus Moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x female reader #Marcus Moreno x f!reader #We Can Be Heroes #high school sweethearts #one that got away #what happens in vegas stays in vegas

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