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#i miss my family in washington
nomaishuttle · 11 months
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IM A LITTLE WORRIED THO BC LIKE. I DONT HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABT AT ALL..
#i havent rly Done anything whatsoever. im literally the unemployed friend#HOPEFULLY NOT FOR LONG. KNOCK KNOCK (sound of me knocking on wood)#but im worried theyll be like Soooo hows washington ^-^ and ill just be like umm. well. there is a window in my room. Whichh is pretty cool#<- joke i have like. been outside of the house a couple times...#very few actually. but its okay#going to see family will FIX ME. and when i come back ill HOPEFULLY (knock knock) have a job. whichll be great#and then ill be so busy and making money that i wont even have time to be depressed anymore#bc its FULLTIME !!!#8 hour shift 5 days a week 😏 soo yeah. my bones r gonna be sore 😏😏😏#but ill get over it and cope eventually. AND ill get to be somewhere other than The house 💀#i do like our house but i think im being driven insane just being here all the time. sometimes i sit on the porch#and like once every couple of weeks i go out for whatever reason. if i didnt SLEEP IN so much maybe id be able t run errands with hal more#butterlass. no i do rly need t fix it#im hoping going back t ky for a bit will kickstart it bc likee. when i first got here i was actually sleeping like..perfect schedule mode#id go to bed around 10-12 and wake up around 7-9. which is ideal..#BUT#Even if that doesnt. the job (knock knock) will force me t keep schedule#which is great. my last job aaaabsolutely forced me t keep schedule and it was rly rly nice..#no matter how late i stayed up i ALWAYS woke up on time. which is good. and i nevee rly had 2 nap after#im so excited for my workday schedule to come back bc i miss the routine of it#even tho the routine was rly just In the morning and the rest was a free for all..#ill also. this time around. make sure t include my morning meds and brushing my TEEF... bc i need t grt better abt that#im also gonna try n shower more often.. ive been managing abt every 3 days which im rly rly proud of bc its rly hard 4 me#but hopefullyy. with my schedule 😏😏 i could do daily showers...#prolly after work showers even. bc that sounds so nice#its judt hard bc Also after work the last thinng i want 2 do is be standing. bc i get so achy.. esp after an 8 hour shift#hopefully this job will be noce though. IF I GET IT. KNOCK KNOCK#i need t not like. place all my eggs in this basket bc if i dont get it im gonna be fucking crushed#but im rly rly rly hopeful. like reaaaally hopeful...#teehee :]] basically yayyy
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scottpilgrim4everr · 2 months
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I wanna live in Long Beach :,(
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thatbadadvice · 10 days
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Help! Am I responsible for teaching my children how to act in public??????
Carolyn Hax, Washington Post, 12 April 2024:
Dear Carolyn: On a recent vacation, our family (including two teenagers) was at a restaurant for lunch. We had not had any food yet when I noticed dried food on my water glass. After the server brought our ordered drinks, I calmly noted the food on my glass and asked for a clean one. No drama, and the server was a pro — no hesitation, brought a new glass and comped us a bottle of water. The hiccup? My teenagers were appalled and embarrassed, basically implying I’m a Karen for first failing to just live with the dirty glass and second not apologizing profusely before asking for a clean one. I tried to explain that part of being served includes clean everything, but they were unpersuaded. Did I miss something? Is this a generational thing? Literally made no fuss at all and did not suggest anything be comped. But I’m feeling defensive. How to communicate that it’s okay to politely ask for corrections when things are amiss? — Anonymous
Dear Anonymous —
This is a generational thing and there's nothing you as a parent can do to improve your children's behavior now, nor was there anything you ever could have done to shape the way they act in the world, their understanding of social norms, their expectations, or how they treat other people.
Kids turn out the way they are because of the generation they were born into, which doesn't have anything to do with the people who raised them or who created the society they live in.
Take heart: you're one of many millions of parents of Gen Z-ers whose offspring are just really into drinking out of dirty glasses. We'll never know why. It's one of the great mysteries of our time, but the good news is that this isn't your problem. There's absolutely no way to teach this particular generation of young people how to order food at restaurants, and even if there were, it wouldn't be on you as their parent to do it. Kids these days just love filthy dishware.
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cod-fishing · 4 months
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“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”
Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.
Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”
Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”
“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,
“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.
Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.
Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.
Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.
“So if you die, what would you like?”
Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.
“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.
Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.
He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”
Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.
“What made you ask, anyways?”
Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.
Simon looks over, and blinks.
"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.
Simon puts down his book.
“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”
Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”
He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.
Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.
“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”
He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.
“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”
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fishfission-dc · 9 months
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Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 10: Alfred)
<<Part 9: Barbara 
[Masterlist]
Alfred: Actually, I have prepared something I would like you all to see.
Bruce: Oh lord...
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[collective sigh]
Alfred: I have noticed that many of you are electing not to return used dishes to their proper location to be washed. 
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Barbara: Oooh... that one’s on me, sorry Alfred.
Alfred: Miss Gordon, I trust you not to spill anything on the computer console, but I still think it best not to have open beverages in the presence of... other company.
Dick: Is he talking about-
Tim: Yeah he’s talking about us.
Bruce: Hn.
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Steph: Only Bruce does this, Alfred, I promise.
Alfred: I am well aware, Miss Brown. 
Bruce: ...sorry.
Duke: How do you not spill anything using mugs in the Batmobile?
Cass: (signing) Impressive.
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Jason: Okay, this one has to be Dick.
Dick: ...That’s probably me.
Tim: A teacup? A teacup and its saucer??
Dick: I was already drinking it at the time-
Alfred: Just bring it back next time.
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Steph: HA
Damian: ...They like the-
Alfred: I highly doubt the dogs have a preference of plates.
Damian: ...understood.
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Jason: WHICH ONE OF YOU-
Tim: STEPH. STEPH THAT IS YOUR BELT.
Steph: I CAN EXPLAIN
Barbara: Steph why is a mug in your-
Steph: I BRING THE MUGS HOME AND I PUT THEM IN MY BELT TO REMEMBER TO BRING THEM BACK TO ALFRED BUT THEN I FORGET
Duke: How many mugs are in your belt right now? 
Steph: ...
Dick: Steph.
Steph: A couple...
Alfred: Three. I checked twenty minutes ago.
Steph: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Tim: ...Okay-
Dick: Tim. How on Earth-
Steph: HOW IS THIS ANY WORSE THAN ME KEEPING MUGS IN MY BELT
Tim: Sometimes I save time by eating in the shower!
Jason: That is like... a family sized tupperware container.
Damian: Drake, this is no longer efficiency, it is insanity. 
Tim: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Bruce: ...how-
Barbara: Cass... Cass this has to be you.
Cass: (signing) ...Sorry.
Steph: Honestly I’m not surprised by this.
Duke: Are we not concerned that Alfred’s been repeatedly climbing into the rafters to collect these dishes?
Alfred: Oh it’s not the furthest length I’ve gone for you all...
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Bruce: I may have left a serving dish at the Kents’ apartment in Metropolis, I apologize.
Tim: I don’t think I left anything in San Francisco... or Nanda Parbat.
Dick: TAMARAN?! I’m probably responsible for New York and Bludhaven, but that one was NOT me.
Jason: Ooooh, yeah... uh... that was probably me...
Steph: You left a tupperware container on Tamaran?!
Jason: And maybe... other places... I keep forgetting to bring them home.
Damian: How many of these locations are you responsible for, Todd?
Jason: Uh... definitely Star City and Tamaran... and Miami... Paris... and Washington, Hong Kong... maybe also Nanda Parbat. Oh, and I definitely left a cup in San Francisco...
Barbara: Oh my god.
Jason: ...Sorry Alf. Won’t happen again.
Alfred: I’m glad you appreciate the leftovers, Master Jason, but yes, please return the dishware.
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Duke: Oh that’s definitely my bad... Sorry Alfred.
Alfred: It’s alright, my dear boy, you didn’t know.
Bruce: ...how long has that been the system?
Dick: Probably not long... I definitely didn’t do that as a kid...
Jason: Definitely changed while I was dead...
Alfred: That has been the system for 42 years, I would appreciate if all of you started adhering to it.
[a chorus of “Sorry, Alfred” as they retrieve their dishes, thus ending Powerpoint Night. The end.]
<<Part 9: Barbara
[Masterlist]
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law in pink | s.r
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♡ next part ♡
summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.
warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(
this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader
words: 1,649 words.
a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T
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The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.
And of course Penelope had to investigate.
According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.
In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.
Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.
But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.
With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.
Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.
It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.
You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.
The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.
"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."
Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.
"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"
You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.
"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."
"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."
"That would be great, thank you very much..."
"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."
"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."
You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.
It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.
"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"
"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."
You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.
"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.
"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."
Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.
Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.
But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.
"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.
Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.
"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.
"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."
"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.
The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.
"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."
Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.
"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."
"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.
"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."
Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.
The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.
"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.
"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."
"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."
"Yes! They looked exquisite."
"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."
Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.
"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."
"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.
"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."
They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.
"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.
"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."
"No problem."
"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.
"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.
"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.
"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."
"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.
"179."
Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.
"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."
You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.
"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.
"This is new." Derek said.
"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.
"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."
"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."
The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.
"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.
"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.
"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.
"That's not true!"
"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.
And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.
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♡ next part ♡
If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 months
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look at you || Fred Weasley
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Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.  A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans. 
The away games are always the hardest. 
Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away. 
She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed. 
Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again. 
But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April. 
Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment. 
It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins. 
And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started. 
She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day. 
Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone. 
Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is. 
Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear. 
She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now. 
“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear. 
Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”
-
Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife. 
He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs. 
“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up. 
“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers. 
Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her. 
“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”
Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her. 
“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?” 
“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”
And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully. 
Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.  
“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife. 
“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”
“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?” 
Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him. 
“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”
Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”
That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs. 
“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”
He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close. 
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.
Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down. 
He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment. 
“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him. 
“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child? 
Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 
“No, the jersey stays on.”
Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”
Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been. 
One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins. 
Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already. 
“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”
“With my baby or my cock?” he teases. 
“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.
“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”
Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking. 
“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”
“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock. 
“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”
The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves. 
The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt. 
“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”
He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much. 
Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs. 
He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.
“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor. 
“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”
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rynwritesreid · 5 months
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Hi love,
Could you write a post jail!Spencer x creative!reader imagine where reader is finally meeting the Bau and their families at one of their annual get togethers?
Spencer and reader start dating a few months after Spencer is released from jail and he’s been hiding it from the team because the two of them are polar opposite he’s serious and logical and readers emotional and creative he’s also slightly apprehensive because of the gap in their ages
(Sorry for the long ask🤍)
Please don’t apologise for long asks, I love them <3 🤍
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Summary: After dating Spencer for five months without meeting his friends, you began to feel like he wasn't taking the relationship as seriously as you were, leading to arguments. Spencer, a logical and somewhat cynical person, was hesitant for you to meet his friends, fearing judgment. Despite not wanting to hide you, he cherished your relationship as a separate, positive world from his work.
Content: Fluff. GN! reader. Mentions of prison.
829 words
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer had now been dating for around 5 months. You hadn’t met any of his friends yet. You thought he wasn’t taking this relationship as seriously as you were. It was causing the both of you to argue a fair amount. See, Spencer had met you at one of your art displays in a local museum. He fell in love with you, and your work the moment his eyes had landed on you. While you were smart, you just weren’t as logical as him. You didn’t view the world as black and white; you weren’t as cynical as him.
 
Spencer wasn’t trying to hide you; you weren’t his dirty little secret. He was just nervous about you meeting his friends, he didn’t want either of you to be judged by them. He wanted to be alone with you, he loved you. He viewed you as a separate world from his work, a fresh breath of air. When he came to see you after a hard case, you caused him to forget about all the terrible stuff that he had just witnessed. When he had told you about his jail experience, you hugged him tightly telling him that everything was okay now. You let him lay in-between your legs where you gave him head scratches. That’s what you were to him, the person who made the world brighter, the person who smiled whenever you saw him and the person who would do absolutely anything to make him feel better.
 
Spencer had been away on a case, he texted you that he landed safely back in Washington and that he was coming to see because he missed your beautiful face. You were just sat watching TV, when Spencer walked in. You looked at him, his eyes were tired, his hair was messy, he looked miserable, but yet he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. He flumped down text you, you raised your arm so he could snuggle in.
 
 
You both watched TV in silence. It was comfortable. After a while, Spencer looked you in the eye and let out a sigh. “I’m not trying to keep you a secret you knew. My team, they are my friends, they are my family. I love you, but you and I are polar opposites. You look at the world through a creative eye, while I see things in science and numbers. You are 23, and I’m in my late thirties. I don’t want them to judge me, I don’t want them to judge you.”
 
You looked at him, you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you or keep you a secret. “I know, I know handsome. I just want to get to know them, you tell me all about them and they sound great. But I don’t want to rush you at all.”
 
Spencer let out a small smile, he knew he had found someone special in you. “I want to introduce you to them, I really do. I just don’t want to mess anything up. They mean a lot to me, and so do you.” He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, and you smiled at him.
 
“I understand,” you said softly. “But you don’t have to worry about them judging us. We’re happy together and that’s all that matters.” You brushed your hand through his hair and leaned in to give him a proper kiss.
 
Spencer smiled against your lips, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew you were right, and he was ready to take the next step in their relationship. “Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s do this.”
 
The next day, Spencer took you to the BAU headquarters. He introduced you to his friends, explaining how he had met you and how you were an artist. You could see the curiosity in their eyes as they looked at you, but they were all kind and welcoming. You spent the day with them, learning about their work and sharing stories of your own. They were all so different from you, but you found that their intelligence and passion for their work was admirable.
 
You loved each and every one of them. Every one of them were pretty, handsome, and intelligent. You were kind of surprised that Spencer had even suggested going on a date with you. You didn’t care though; you just knew how truly lucky you were.
 
Once you had gone home, the team gushed about how great you were to Spencer. They had known he was seeing someone, but they didn’t want to pry. They were happy they got to meet you though. They could see how happy Spencer was when he looked at you, they could see that you deeply cared about him. They were apprehensive at first over the age gap, but when they got to know you, they saw it didn’t matter. You were perfect for him, and they were over the moon for him.
 
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sweatervest-obsessed · 5 months
Text
Wasteland, Baby
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: 3.4k
TW: Mentions of Murders, mentions of suicide, discussion of suicide, trauma, emotional turmoil, death, arguing, abandonment issues, commitment issues, Angst, some fluff
A/N: Thanks for bearing with me as I try to get off the struggle bus y'all. here is the highly anticipated part 2 of Stick Season !
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All the fear and the fire of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here, too
It had been three years since you left the BAU and you had just turned down a job at the FBI from Erin Strauss. You never heard from her again. 
But you did attend her funeral in D.C a week later.
You didn’t alert any of the BAU that you were returning for her funeral, since you could only imagine the pain they were feeling. 
The plane ride was filled with thoughts of what life would have been like if you had rejoined the FBI. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe she’d still be calling you and sending you email after email with job offers. 
You had quickly stopped by the wake, the day before, to pay your respects, and give Strauss’ family your deepest condolences. It was painful, seeing someone you spoke to last week, stiff, lifeless, in a coffin where they will be for the rest of time. 
But the worst part was the burial. 
Blending in at a funeral has never been a strong suit of the BAU’s, except for you. You were calm, respectful, and blended in with the rest of the spectators. 
Until you looked across the circle and saw Aaron Hotchner looking directly at you. Whatever he had been feeling before, was quickly wiped away when you looked back at him, confirming his suspicions that you were here, in the graveyard. The look on his face was replaced with a more somber one as he redirected his attention back to the priest, but you knew you would be unable to just leave now that you had been spotted. 
Once she had been lowered into the ground, Hotch made his way towards you, catching his colleges interested. Where was he going? Who was he looking for?
“Y/n.” 
You smiled at him. It didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn;t fake either. 
“It’s good to see you Hotch.” 
“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” 
You nodded and looked over as the rest of the people migrated towards their cars to go to the reception afterwards. “I didn’t make it public information, considering I was planning on leaving after the ceremony. I’m just here to pay my respects Hotch.” 
“She called you.” 
“Yes she did.” 
“And she said you turned it down.” 
“I did.”
“Why.” 
“Hotch, please.” 
He took your elbow and pulled you away from the people, giving the two of you some semblance of privacy. 
“Will you at least think about it?” 
“What is there to think about Hotch? I don’t want to—” 
“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you miss it Y/n. I’m not just some colleague, and you know that.” 
You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. You knew coming to this funeral was a mistake. But some part of you, one that you had silenced for a very long time, was starting to break through. 
“We can talk later.” 
Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you
“I cannot believe you’re going back.” 
You sighed and continued to pack up everything you owned into boxes. You had only broken down the ones from a few years ago–that same part of you had saved them for whenever you had recognized you were ready to be back in Washington D.C. 
“Don’t ignore me. I thought you were done with hunting bad guys and certain doctors with glasses.” 
You slammed your hands on the table, causing Lucille to jump. 
“Sorry.” You muttered and slowly sunk to the ground, deciding it was just easier to sit on the ground and have a breakdown rather than talk it out. 
“I’m not going back for him…I’m going back for me. This…” You ran a hand through your hair. “This is n’t what I was meant to do, Luce. I’m not a teacher. I’m okay at it, but…I was meant to be in the field. Teaching is challenging, but not in the way I need. And fuck, I love my kids, you know that I do, but it’s just…”
“It’s not who you are.” She came and sat down next to you, taking your hand in hers. “I’m gonna miss you asshole.” 
You rested your head on her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered back to her. 
“You have to visit me. I’ll get lonely up here.” 
A smile spread across your face as a tear slowly tracked down your cheek. “ You have my permission to hunt me down and beat the shit out of me if I don’t.” 
“Oh don’t worry, I will.” 
All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns That all words in the fight fell to
Your desk stayed pretty empty for the first two weeks you were back—like you were terrified that if you got too comfortable, life would pull the rug right out from under you again and you’d have to leave. 
It was Garcia who first noticed this, watching as you’d pack everything up into your tote bag each night before you would go home. She didn’t say anything about it though, since you were not the same girl the BAU had grown to know. 
You were different, quieter. You spoke when you had something to add, or to correct somebody, but you never participated in the banter; you never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. If the group had decided to surprise you at your new apartment, they would find it covered in boxes—walls bare, fridge almost empty, only essentials like clothes and toothbrush unpacked. 
But you had never been better. Hotch had you start consulting side cases when you came back, a way to get you used to the routine of being back in the office, back in the FBI. You would consult up to three new cases a day, still helping with those that would call back a day or week later for updates or more help. They watched as you easily solved things in minutes, that might have taken the team hours. 
The first time Morgan called you ‘Girl Genius’ to your face, you punched him in the arm (admittedly a bit harshly). But he wasn’t wrong. You could feel the continuous excitement flowing through your veins; your muscles flexing as you settled back into the thing you were the best at. 
You were different, but better. 
Spencer noticed this too. He watched as you confidently answered every question thrown at you. He watched as you consulted on cases and noticed patterns he had missed. 
Spencer had missed you, badly. He knew he fucked up when he had left that night, needed to go and he spend the night away, thinking about his life; his future. Panic had flooded his body at the thought of you being the one forced to take care of him, forced to deal with his shit history and addictive personality and his annoying ass rambles. He didn’t want to subject you to that. 
But then he remembered the look on your face—the pure excitement and adoration at the thought of being able to spend every single minute of your life calling him yours. And once the panic had subsided, he felt that same joy. 
When he got back to the house, you weren’t there. 
You weren’t at work either. 
You had just vanished, and about a day later, all of your things had disappeared too. 
And Spencer was a fucking wreck. He was useless at work, and he spent so much time trying to find you, but Penelope wasn’t able to find a thing, and by the time she did, it had been months later, and you clearly didn’t want to be found. 
Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you
It didn’t help that seeing you again in Vermont made him want to melt on the spot. A great deal of relief washed over him, seeing you were alive and in front of him. But then he felt the anger rise in him. You had abandoned him, you had just disappeared without a second thought. 
Then he remembered the look on your face when he panicked about marrying you.
You had thought he didn’t want to marry you. 
You had no idea that he felt like he was the the problem, and if he told you know, it would just sound like a fucking excuse. 
Watching you walk back into the bullpen and set up at your desk was another slap in the face. It feels like nobody tells him anything, because they don’t. But then he realized that only Hotch knew about it because everyone froze on the spot seeing you sitting at your desk, working. 
At his desk, he would just watch you. On the plane, he would watch you. And he tried so hard to be nonchalant about it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your hair, your legs, your arms, your lips—he wanted to take your hand and never let you go, fusing your skin together so he could be with you always. 
He was in love with you. And he thought you would rather die than be seen with him again. 
If only he knew that you felt the same way—you loved him right back. 
And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs
After about three months, infinite pining, a few longing glances passed to one another, and incessant whining from Derek Morgan, you and Spencer Reid found yourselves together at coffee one morning. 
After about a month later, you found yourself back in his apartment, lips grazing his, not being able to tell where his body ended and yours started. 
Then, the next day, he told you he loved you. 
He didn’t see you for a whole week afterwards. 
But when he walked into work that monday, and you were sitting at your desk, completely unbothered, he took it upon himself to make you talk to him. 
No one else was around, except for Hotch. But his office door was closed, and Morgan wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes anyways. 
“Where the fuck have you been?” 
You turned around in your chair and glared at him. “Excuse me?” 
“You disappeared for a week, no word about where you were going, not even telling me you were leaving.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Not now Spence.” 
“I love you.” 
“What?” 
“I still love you.” 
Your jaw dropped. “Spencer…” 
“I’m dead serious Y/n. When you weren’t here after you spent the night, I lost my fucking mind. I thought I had lost you—again. And I wasn’t about to go through that again. I had fucked up once before and I—I thought you had realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you had left again.” 
You were silent as he rambled on. 
“When you left three years ago, I lost my fucking mind. I sat here, staring at your desk hoping you would materialize out of thin air just so that I could apologize to you. And then when you didn’t show up, I begged Penelope to tell me where you had run off to, so I could go and find you and beg for you to listen to me while I got on my hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. You thought I didn’t want to marry you, but I was terrified because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me. I mean I had just gotten sober, and I thought we were doing so well and then you brought up marriage and all I could think about was how it was another way for you to find out how much you could hate me and get sick of me since—” 
You had finally snapped out the shock you were feeling and placed your hand over his mouth. “Breathe.” 
Spencer shoved your hand off his mouth, but stayed silent, taking an over exaggerated breath to prove to you he did. 
“We can talk about this later.” 
“No.” Spencer shook his head. “We’re going to talk about this now. I want to talk about this now.” 
“Spencer…” 
“How do I know that you’re not going to just pack up and disappear again.” 
“Spencer seriously? I don’t—-”
“You don’t do that? Because we both know you do. You’ve done it twice now.”
“What do you want me to say Spence?” 
“That you still love me.” His voice was low, but his eyes were locked in on yours. “I need to know if you still love me.” 
Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you
The Next Week
Another Day, Another Psychopath Killer. 
Another way for you to throw yourself into the line of fire because you have always had a soft spot for teenagers. 
Someone was targeting suicidal teens, convincing them to end their own lives, merely making him complicit in their deaths. It had sent you (and JJ) reeling. Both of you had lost someone to suicide, and watching as this person preyed on vulnerable kids who deserved to live and be loved took a lot out of the both of you. 
You had a bad feeling about this case when it was first passed onto your desk, but it just got worse and worse as the week went on. If only you had figured out who it was sooner, you might have been able to save this one girl’s life. But sometimes life refuses to relent. 
The jet was silent on the way back, none of you wanting to speak and break the silence. 
Spencer sat next to you on the couch, offering a comforting presence, and nothing else. He knew you (and it bugged the shit out of you). Years of being with one another meant that he knew when you were upset, and he knew that you despised being touched while you were like this, but you hated being alone. 
It bugged you so much, but you weren’t going to say a damn thing because having him next to you while you sat and listened to your music and spiraled was exactly what you needed. 
He only offered his hand when the plane hit some turbulence, and your entire body began to shake unconsciously. It was between the two of you, and all he did was flip it, so the palm was upwards. It was an invitation that you could immediately ignore and refuse if you wanted to. 
But something in you caused your hand to drop next to his and lace your fingers through his. 
God was it so fucking warm, and soft. You wondered if he still used the lotion you had recommended to him all those years ago when he would complain to you about his hands being “gross” and “too dry”. He absolutely did. 
He managed to hide his smile when you took his hand, but he did give yours a soft squeeze, and continued to read his book, pretending that his insides weren’t aflame and his mind was anywhere but on the words in front of him. 
He didn’t turn a page for over four minutes once your hand was in his. 
And I love too that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's wasteland, baby
That Night
“Thank you.” 
It was the first thing you had said in over five hours, including the plane ride. Once the plane had landed, you and Spencer went back to his apartment, and the two of you had sat in his living room, in silence. He didn’t mind, as long as he could keep an eye on you. 
Your mind was far far away. It was back in college. Thinking about your friend and about the life you could have lived if she was still with you. 
Spencer had left a cup of tea next to you, your favorite, and sat on the couch. You were situated in the chair by the window, staring out into the night, watching as the rain drops raced down the window and as the lights blurred together. 
He was close enough to provide you with some comfort, but far enough away to let you have whatever space you needed.
“Spence?” 
He snapped out of his head, looking towards you. Your eyes were tired, and your body reflected the same type of exhaustion. 
“Sorry. What do you need?” 
“I—.” You interrupted yourself with a yawn, cursing under your breath. “Shit sorry. I should probably go..” 
“It’s okay if you stay.” 
You looked out the window then back at him. 
“I’m not just saying that to get you into my bed—oh my god that came out wrong, I just mean I don’t want you out in that weather and I don’t really like the idea of you being alone tonight, especially after this case because—” 
“Spencer.” 
“---yeah?” 
“I’ll stay.” 
“O-oh. Good. good…” He nodded. “I can uh, take the couch and you can have the bed.” 
You rolled your eyes and smiled slightl;y. “You’re a gentleman, Doctor Reid, but I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” 
“But I—”
“Spence.” 
He huffed, crossing his arms as you just laughed softly to yourself, amused. 
“Why don’t we both go get ready. Together.” 
“Together?” 
You nodded. “Yeah Spence.” 
“Okay.” 
Spencer stood up, and offered his hand to you. 
And for the second time today, you took it. 
When the stench of the sea and the absence of green Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do
And maybe the two of you would never be together ever again. Maybe you would. 
But something about the way Spencer would make your favorite tea, 
or the way he would save you the crossword puzzle on his morning newspaper since he knew how much you loved to solve as much as you could without his help, 
or when he would leave you notes on your desk, making you feel like a giddy high schooler all over again, or when he felt like a good start to something new
or when he would kiss you good morning and good night, promising you he’d be there whenever you woke up
or when he slowly got rid of things in his apartment to create space for your things as you moved in slowly 
or whenever a case was particularly rough for the both of you and he wouldn’t pester you to talk to him about it, instead offering his hand for you to take, and squeezing it, letting you know he was there for you
or the way he would take you on small vacations up to Vermont so you could go see all of your friends and escape from the world of the FBI
or the way he would never storm out of the apartment after an argument, but still give you the space you needed so you could both decompress without getting at each other's throats
or when he whispered every thing he would do for you for the rest of your lives so help him god when he thought you were asleep in his arms
or how he would whispered ‘I love you’ to you as you passed by while you both were working
or when he would never let you run off in the middle of the night because you would panic about whether or not this was all a dream, and one day he would wake up and not love you anymore
or when he got down on one knee and proclaimed his undying love for you, hoping you’d promised to love him forever in the same way he loved you, wanting to be with you, wanting to be near you always
made you feel like everything might be okay after all. 
Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you
422 notes · View notes
Text
Home is where you are | Bucky Barnes
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> When you hear someone talking about Bucky you offer them your help to find him.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.773
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) Bit of violence (punches)
𝐀/𝐍 -> Co-Written with my best friend @imtryingbuck. Thank you so much for listening to my complaining and to write this together with me.❤️❤️
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | April 3 | Theme: Cap Quartet | Washington DC, Uniform, Found Family, favorite duo | @catws-anniversary
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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You didn’t mean to listen in to the conversation that was going on just to your left but you didn’t have anything better to do then just to sit there with cuffs on your wrist. Sitting in the uncomfortable chair in the hallway of the local police station wasn’t something you were planning on doing on a Friday night but the man who wouldn’t leave you alone as you walked down the street deserved to have his head knocked into the wall.
“He isn’t-“ the blond man started but got cut off by the woman he was standing with.
“Whether you knew him before he’s still the Winter Solider and we need to stop him!”
“We haven’t heard anything about him since we last fought-“
“Regardless, he still needs to be stopped”
“Bucky isn’t a bad person, I know him!”
Hearing that name your head turned to face the three people standing there, the blond man stood tall with his arms crossed over his broad chest, the red headed woman stood in a similar stance whilst the black haired man leant against the wall with his hand in a crisp packet.
“What are staring at?” The woman snapped at you.
“Come here.” You said to the blond, who looked at the two people he was with furrowing his eyebrow he made his way over to you.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes and I can help you. Bucky? I know him.”
“Steve come on we can’t trust her, she’s literally in cuffs” the woman said again.
“Blue eyes, brown hair, dimple chin, silver arm? Yeah I know him.” This Steve guy stood up straighter as you described the man in question, his eyes slanted as he looked you up and down.
“How do you know him?”
“He saved my life.” You shrugged, turning to the redhead “he isn’t a bad person, a bit weird but not bad.” Turning your head back to the blond you smiled up at him. “Steve Rogers, good ole Captain America, you know Bucky has a photo of you in a little book of his?”
“H-how?”
“Took him to the Smithsonian to help him remember, saw photos of you and took one with him”
“Where is he?” Steve asks.
“Who are you?” The other man asks, finally speaking up.
“I’m not going to tell you unless you help me, and I’m Y/n.”
“She’s full of it Steve, we can’t trust her!”
“You are so snappy Miss Romanoff, yeah I know who you are. I can’t be giving my secrets away for free now can I?”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to tell the nice police officers that I didn’t do anything and that I’m an absolute angel” you smiled up at him. Steve thought over what you wanted before nodding and going over to the desk. Whatever he had said to them worked because the officer who had the pleasure of shoving you into a wall and put the cuffs on you very tightly came over and let you go.
Steve grabbed ahold of your arm and dragged you out of the station, putting you in the car and made the other man drive. “What was she arrested for?” Sam asked.
“Assault”
“I barely touched him.” You huffed.
“You cracked his skull open.”
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Steve told Sam to pull up at the motel, there they could get some rest and then go to rescue Bucky. You went to the bathroom but not before Natasha checked it out to make sure you couldn’t escape first.
“She’s been in there for ages now.” Sam noticed.
Natasha knocked on the door to check on you, when not getting a response back she kicked in the door. “Shit! Shit!”
“What? God damnit!” Steve saw the window open and couldn’t see you.
All three left the room to go looking for you, they saw you running down the street, Steve ran after you whilst Nat and Sam got in the car.
“Leave me alone! God why are you so fast?” You screamed.
“Just stop!”
“No!”
The car you were in not long ago came speeding past you and cut you off, Sam and Nat jumped straight out as you tried to run past them. You felt a hand on your arm so you stopped, turning around and ducked when Natasha threw a punch to your face. You threw a punch back and began fighting with the black widow. Both of the men stopped dead in their tracks at seeing how Nat was losing against you.
“Stop. Y/n stop it!” Steve shouted.
“Tell her to stop!” He does, the redhead listened and began to take a step back. “I’m-god I’m so unhealthy-I’m not taking you to him!”
“But you said you would?”
“I don’t trust you. Your going to hurt him and I-I can’t let that happen”
“I’m not going to hurt him, I swear. He’s my best friend.”
“Y-you work for SHIELD. They will hurt him.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt him. You have my word”
“He gets hurt and I’ll haunt you down!” Steve nods and promises you that you have his word. You nod back and sigh before lying down on the ground exhausted from the chase and fighting against the black widow.
Sitting in the back of the car the next morning, Steve kept his eye on you as you stared at Nat through the mirror. “You said that Bucky saved you? How?”
“I was at the base they kept him at, he got sent on a mission and when he came back he got me out of my cell. We’ve been on the run ever since.”
After telling him a bit more about you and Bucky, Natasha nodded, while Steve’s eyes were still on you. You had his full attention; he wanted to know all about his friend.
"So, where are we going?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“Smithsonian.”
“A museum?”
“Yeah. We have met there often; he wasn’t there the last time, but maybe now,” you explained.
Steve is the only one who really looked like he trusted you, while Sam and Natasha weren’t pretty sure if they could trust you. But you were mostly focused on how to react when you see Bucky; you have told him about your feelings for him, just like he did. You were dating, but then you needed to escape, and Bucky told you to stay in the apartment he brought. After that, you met a few times at the Smithsonian.
When they parked the car, you immediately got out of it, wanting to rush into it, but Natasha stopped you by holding your arm and pushing you against the car. You gasped, and when Steve stood next to you too, she let go of your arm.
“Don’t dare to run away,” she says.
You rolled your eyes, pushing her softly away, and made your way together with them to the entrance of the Smithsonian.
“You three know that everyone recognizes you even when you wear those caps?”
Natasha ignored you while Sam sighed, and Steve placed his hand around your shoulders.
“Surprisingly, they don’t,” he smirked.
Together, you entered the museum, and no one recognized the other three. You made your way to the place you always met Bucky; it’s a bit hidden behind some of the uniforms the group Steve led wore.
“That was your outfit? Looks like leggings,” Sam laughs and points at Steve’s outfit.
You walked a few steps further when Steve tapped your shoulder, and you turned toward him. Narrowing, while he just put his finger on his lips and shoved you behind him. You saw a man with long brown hair, his metal arm glistening in the slight light of the room, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. But Steve showed you to stay in place so he could talk to the man standing just a few meters away.
“Buck?” He asked, walking closer, and the other man turned around.
Bucky’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped slightly, and he prepared himself to push the other man away and get out of the building.
“S— Steve?”
“Hi, pal. Please, we can help you escape Hydra.”
Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, unsure if he could trust Steve, but he nodded. Steve walked slowly closer to his friend, until he reached him and smirked at the brown-haired one.
“Two of my friends are here too, and we brought someone who really wants to see you,” Steve told Bucky.
When Sam and Natasha let you walk closer to them, Bucky immediately recognized your form behind his friend. His eyes widened, and a beautiful smile appeared on his lips. You walked toward him, placing your arms around his neck, and you pressed yourself tight against him. Bucky’s arms were wrapped around your body the moment you reached him, his face buried in the crock of your neck while he inhaled deeply.
“My doll,” he mumbled, pushing you softly away.
He captured your cheeks with his big hands, his thumbs wiping your tears away — those you never knew were rolling down your cheeks. The relief that you felt when you saw the men you loved, that you could just wrap your arms around him, and that you didn’t see any injuries on his body. Bucky leaned closer, looking deeply into your eyes, before he closed his beautiful blue ones and pressed his soft, plumb lips on yours. The kiss was breathtaking; your knees went weak, and you grabbed his arms tightly. He deepened the kiss, sighing softly before he pulled away. Bucky smiled at you; his blue eyes lit up when he saw the same big smile on your pretty lips and the way you looked at him with nothing but pure love.
“I love you so much, doll.”
“I love you, too.”
Steve smirked, while Sam looked at Natasha with an amused face because she was the whole time looking at Steve.
“You should ask him out,” he said.
Then their gazes went back to you; you’re still smirking at one another. You trailed your fingers through Bucky’s soft brown hair, and he had his hand still on your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours once again.
"Bucky, let’s go home, yeah?”
“B— But I am.”
“In the Smithsonian?”
“No,” he chuckles, looking directly into your eyes. “In your arms, my doll, he said, and you blushed.
But he was right. Home isn’t a house; home is the place you are with the people you love the most. People make a house feel like home, and Bucky is doing that. He makes everything feel like home as long as you’re together.
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden
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panandinpain0 · 9 months
Note
Could I ask for an Edward Cullen x male reader where the reader is Bella’s best friend (who moved right after her)- He ends up becoming infatuated with him instead, and they just have a happy time??
This is Different...
Twilight timmmmeee- time to reach into the archives of my memories and pull random facts from my ass.
Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy <3
@@@
Requested by: Anon
Edward Cullen x Male!Reader
---
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Bella had to kept telling herself to wait just one more week, because then (Y/N) would be there and she could vent to him about how weird this town was.
The two had grown up together in Arizona and were practically inseparable. Their parents did that thing where they were convinced Bella and (Y/N) were going to date and get married and all of that, which just isn't happening. But it made his dad easier to convince when they asked if (Y/N) could move to Forks, Washington with Bella.
(Y/N)'s parents had just gotten a divorce and his dad was moving anyways, and he was old enough that he just wanted to stay with his dad (and little sister that would come to visit every once in a while) until he was an adult.
So after Bella left to Forks, (Y/N) and his dad started packing their bags and started their trip.
Bella could not wait to tell him about the school, the weird but oddly charming students, and the standoffish Cullen family.
Finally the week came to an end and Charlie drove Bella to pick them up from the airport.
(Y/N)'s father, James, had planned to buy a car once they got to the new house, but Charlie had so kindly offered to drive them until he did get one.
At the airport Bella ran up to (Y/N) and he caught her in a hug, laughing at her eagerness.
"Looks like somebody missed me!" (Y/N) squeezed out a laugh, Bella cutting off his air supply with the grip of her hug.
"It's been absolute agony without you here, I have so much to tell you- and warn you about."
"Oh damn, that doesn't sound good," (Y/N) replied as Bella helped pick up one of his bags.
"It's crazy out here." She nodded, and the two shared a look that only childhood friends could share.
"Any cute guys?" they had a hushed conversation to the car, Charlie and James too wrapped up talking about fishing to pay attention.
"I'm sure you'd find them cute," Bella scoffed, throwing a teasing smile over her shoulder as she loaded the trunk.
(Y/N) scoffed back, betrayed at her diss.
"I'm sure you went for the stalker-ish one anyways." With a sly smirk he got into the backseat, closing the door on her denials.
...
(Y/N) had settled in, conveniently living next door to the Swan's house, and drove with Bella in her old truck to school that Monday.
"So, Jessica is into Mike and Angela is with Eric. And Tyler flirts with everybody, but nobody goes out with him?" (Y/N) recapped from the tangent of drama Bella had been giving him.
"Yup, pretty much," Bella confirmed, turning into the school parking lot.
"And all of the Cullen's are super hot- but they're dating each other?" (Y/N) asked, more suspiciously this time.
"Well, they're all adopted, but yes. Except for Edward- but I already told you what happened."
"Yeah the weird smelling thing and the he disappeared just to come back with a different eye color."
"They could just be colored contacts," Bella corrected, still not sure herself.
"Strange... Welp, let's do this," (Y/N) sighed as he got out of the passengers seat of the car.
Bella shrunk into his side, all of the attention on her once again. Last time it was because she was the new girl, but now it's because she had her attractive best friend with her.
"Yo, Bella!" Mike called out, giving (Y/N) a confused glare.
Bella waved back and started walking over, (Y/N) following at her side. Leaning down to whisper in her ear (Y/N) held back a laugh, "You left out the part about Mike's crush on you."
Bella just rolled her eyes as they met up with the group.
"Everybody, (Y/N)- (Y/N), everybody," Bella lazily introduced.
"You just moved here, right?" Angela asked, holding Eric's hand as they lent up against Tyler's van behind them.
"Yes, I did. I grew up with Bella in Arizona and where she goes I go," (Y/N) laughed, nudging Bella in the side jokingly.
That's when he noticed her distracted state. Following her line of sight he realized she was staring at a car full of probably the most attractive people he'd ever seen.
"Who's that?" (Y/N) asked the group, acting clueless to get more information.
"Those are the Cullen's-" Jessica jumped right into the rant about their family.
When she was done she came closer to (Y/N), grabbing hold of his hand as she batted her eyelashes at him. "Let me show you around!"
Shrugging, (Y/N) waved to Bella, who rolled her eyes at Jessica's obvious flirting.
...
"Where'd you find that guy? He's so hot," Jessica gushed to Bella at lunch. (Y/N) hadn't sat down yet so she'd finally gotten a second to ask.
"We grew up together- he wasn't that hot when we first met, trust me," Bella almost snorted, playing with the food on her tray.
"You guys aren't like..." trailing off she wiggled her eyebrows to imply.
"No- god, no," Bella laughed. "He's like my brother."
"Oh, good. Less competition then," Jessica sighed.
"I don't think you'll be having much luck either, Jessica," Angela pointed out, nodding in (Y/N)'s direction.
He was flirting with some guy in the lunch line, the guys face bright red as he laughed at something (Y/N) had said.
Jessica looked heartbroken but Angela and Bella just laughed about it.
When (Y/N) finally joined them Bella raised an eyebrow at him.
"What?" (Y/N) shrugged indignantly, opening his milk carton.
"Not even a full day in and you're already jumping on them," Bella teased, popping a grape into her mouth.
"Hey, you told me there wasn't any cute guys here, I just wanted to see what he was like," (Y/N) protested. "I didn't even like him that much. Kind of a dick."
Hearing a sudden and loud snort of laughter, (Y/N) and Bella turned around to see the Cullen's lunch table, Edward hiding his face as he looked towards the windows as his siblings glared at (Y/N). Or maybe they just all had RBF- save for the short girl with the pixie-like hair. She smiled at (Y/N) and waved, so he waved back.
"They're so weird," Jessica whispered as she dug into her lunch.
"How much have you actually talked to them?" (Y/N) questioned, taking a bite of his apple.
Jessica didn't answer for a minute, looking kind of embarrassed. Angela rolled her eyes, answering for her. "Once- and it was Edward rejecting her."
(Y/N) snorted and then apologized, "Sorry. It just seems like you're holding a grudge on people you barely know." He then changed the subject, not wanting to make an enemy out of Jessica.
She really seemed like a good friend, he didn't want to go pushing her buttons, that'd be mean.
...
"Mr. Molina, it's nice to meet you. I'm your new student, (Y/N)."
"Ahh, Mr. (L/N), is it?" (Y/N) nodded. "You can sit in front of Edward Cullen. You're lucky we had an empty seat," he joked, pointing to where he was talking about.
That was when (Y/N) got his good first look at Edward Cullen. His gaze was intense, just like Bella had said, but it was less scary than she described it.
Seemed like a guy worth getting to know.
Walking over to the desk with Bella, (Y/N) held out his hand to Edward. "You're Edward Cullen, right? Mr. Molina told me to sit in front of you, but I've heard stories and wanted to introduce myself." He smiled confidently.
Edward hesitantly took his hand and shook it, (Y/N) not reacting to the hard coldness of his skin.
Or at least he didn't show it- (Y/N) was immediately thrown off but didn't want to put off this attractive guy.
"Like you said, I'm Edward. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." (Y/N) winked and sat in his chair, not looking back at Edward or Bella once.
Bella just rolled her eyes with good nature. She'd seen him do this before, if she'd felt uncomfortable or threatened by someone, (Y/N) would draw the attention to himself. That's what worked about their friendship, he could take the attention that she didn't want.
At the end of class, (Y/N) packed up his things and then helped Bella do the same. He waved to Edward with a "Bye!" and they left.
Out in the parking lot his siblings all waited for him by the car.
"What's up?" Emmett asked, his arm around Rosalie.
Alice squealed, "Oh! It happened, didn't it? I thought it was Bella at first but then I saw him and just knew it would happen!" She jumped up and down and clapped her hands.
"What happened?" Rosalie questioned again, Jasper smirking as he sensed Edward's emotions.
"He fell in love," Alice stage-whispered. She was teasing him, of course, but Edward grumbled all the same.
They all piled into the car but before Edward got in he looked across the lot to see (Y/N) leaning on the truck hood talking to Bella.
He hadn't fallen in love. He couldn't- not with a human.
With Bella it was just an obscene thirst... but this was different.
---
Sorry to cut this short, I wouldn't be opposed to writing more for this! I just think this is a good ending and leaves an open spot for a potential part 2!
Hope you liked it anon!
-Author Max <3
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deluluriddhi · 1 month
Text
𐙚 ❛ Authors In Love ❜ Society
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(🪞 LIB?) 𐙚 synopsis: two childhood best friends
who are separated and can't reach eachother, becoming authors just to write about each other.
𐙚 pairing: author!Sunghoon x author!yn
𐙚 contains: Jake as Sunghoon's kpop idol friend, a little bit enemies to lovers, fluff, plotties plot, mentions of a big misunderstanding, heart warming, a little bit of agnst at the beginning, mentions of struggles of authors, total sfw content. (Lmk if I forgot anything)
𐙚 wc: ?????
𐙚 note: inspired from a reel I saw nearly a year ago but couldn't forget. I apologise for any mistakes becuz Tumblr didn't save my first draft. And yes, that reel's link I can't find anywhere but I always wanted to write an FF based on it. Thanks god I had the ss. Feedbacks, likes, reblogs and follows are appreciated! TAGLIST OPEN. ADD A COMMENT TO BE TAGGED IN THIS ONE OR/AND THE NEXT ONE. PART 2 , PART 3
𐙚 Riddhi speaks: so, you all got to know at last why I was so inactive these days? It was bcuz I was writing this. Glasses Sunghoon got a chokehold on me. The struggles of authors mentioned are half based on my struggles having this blog lol. Literary all the books I read are New York Bestselling. Ik this is really long ㅠㅠ good luck reaching the end! Please show love to this, I poured my all into this. ENJOYYY!!
𐙚 playlist: Lovers Rock by tv girl. Bound to fall in love 
   
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24TH MARCH, 2018
AT THE AIRPORT
"Hoon dear, bid your good byes.", Sunghoon's dad said. "No dad! I don't wanna leave Y/N.", little Hoon said as he clung to your body with your arms wrapped around him.
"Aeroplane number 256, From Washington DC to Seoul will be arriving shortly at Terminal Number 4. Please hurry and get in a line to aboard the plane. Thank you.", a voice from the speakers said.
"Hoon dear, we have to leave., Sunghoon's mother said, pulling him apart from you. "No mama! I don't wanna go. I wanna stay with Y/N., Salty teardrops fell from his eyes as he tried to escape from his mother's tight grasps.
Your eyes flooded with tears as you saw him crying and going away. Small y/n only knew it was somewhere far and she is not gonna able to see him anymore; a far away fairyland, they said. Poor Y/N.
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(24 years later)
24TH MARCH, 2042
Y/N'S BEDROOM, WASHINGTON DC
24 years.
It has been 24 whole years since Sunghoon had gone to Korea. 24 years without any contact with your childhood bestfriend. Both of your mothers were best friends before you two were born. They decided to live next to eachother, so that they could hang cut everyday. Then, they had you two. Sunghoon was a few months older than you. You two used to play all day when at your house when you two were little. Stick to eachother, go to school together, eat together, play together, you two were inseparable. That's how you two became best friends. You two were in love with each other, just too small for you two to understand but everyone around knew. But, unfortunately, Sunghoon and his family had to move when he was five years old. You were five years old too, wondering why he had to go. That really was a heartbreaking moment for both of you. None of you two could move on; face and name plastered in both of you two's heart. Every year, on this exact same day you wait for him to come back, putting a cross on that date if he doesn't but he never does.
You slumped down on the bed after crossing off yet another 24th March on the calander on the wall. He is gonna come back, you said to yourself, but you are unsure yourself. You glance at your unfinished book opened in Google Docs on your Laptop, it's deadline mally close. Well, being one of the most famous New York Bestsellers and Penguins' most liked author was hard. Well, what can we do? Looks like the audiance really books about your lost true childhood love. Yes, all the books you have ever written were all about Sunghoon, well, the audiance don't know that. How much you miss him, how much you love him, all the things you want to tell him, etc., was all you write in your books. Your pen name is Lee Nari.
But you had a competitor. Park Eun. Another author. He is best writer next to you, clase behind. It was always a competition between you and him, in everything, starting from Best Author of the Year award to Most Books sold award. Tho you two never met one another you have a kind of rage against him nor you have ever read his books or saw his photos. Because you never got the time to. "Argh, I hate this.", with that you started writing again.
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(SAME DAY)
SUNGHOON'S ROOM, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
"Bad", he said as he deleted the one line he wrote. "BAD', he said again after a few minutes, tapping the backspace button aggressively. After a few more minutes, "BADDD", he shouted while kicking the leg of the table really hard which resulted in his own pain in return.
"Arag, I hate this", he slowly murmured under his deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He rubbed his feet before getting up from his chair and running outside in his lawn. Fresh air after hours of sitting like a shrimp in a chair, constantly typing down words on his laptop.
Park Sunghoon, or popularly known as Park Eun by pen name, is a 29 years old New York Bestselling author in Seoul, Korea.
Just as he was enjoying the nature a familiar voice from behind him came. "Hello Mister!". to no surprise it was his best friend, the first person to be friends with him after he came to Korea, Jake Sim. A soft slime tugged across Sunghoon's face as he turned around to look at Jake's face. "An off day from ENHYPEN?", Sunghoon asked him while walking closer to hug him. "Yeah.", Jake's voice laced with tiredness of being an idol, he said after burying his face in Sunghoon's shoulders and sinking in the warmth of his body. "Oh oh!", Jake excitedly said while breaking the hug, his face looking exactly like an excited golden retriever, "Look at this! Look at this!". Jake pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Aw man, Calm down', Sunghoon muttered under his breath, closing his eyes, as he saw the golden boy recklessly trying to find something on his phone. "There! I found it!", Jake exclaimed with his phone just infront of Sunghoon's face.
What shown on the screen was a teaser for Lee Nari's new book coming out shortly. Sunghoon was in rage. After all, Lee Nari, a person he doesn't know anything about, is trying to steal his position in the Author's World. She is his dearest competitor and sworn enemy, Yet, Sunghoon has never read her books or saw her pictures. They are the one that divides Bookstagram and BookTok into two. Sunghoon is still trying to beat her but she is quite a mile ahead of him. "yeah yeah, okay", Sunghoon told Jake, not wanting to talk about Lee Nari anymore. "So, how is Betrayed Love going?", Jake asked, sensing the atmosphere, "you are still writing about her, aren't you?". "yeah", Sunghoon quietly said, "I should go USA to meet her but I am so caught up with work here and I don't even know of she is still there.". Jake's succesful attempt to cheer up Sunghoon, "Hey hey! Show me the work!"
"till the end of the Earth, I will find you one day. Is that what you want?", Jake asked after examining Sunghoon's unfinished book on his Laptop. Sunghoon nodded as an yes, "but I tried my best to find her. She might be dead too, he said hugging himself and head hung down low. "Aw Hoonie! Don't say that! You will find her.", Jake said after engulfing Sunghoon in a warm hug, trying his best to comfort him. "It's you birthday soon. I will buy you a book from Lee Nari.." Jake suddenly said, smiling cheekily, "Well, it won't be a waste maybe.", Sunghoon said.
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(A FEW DAYS LATER)
3RD APRIL, 2042
Y/N'S HOUSE
Ding Dong.
Y/N's house doorbell rang. "Oh God, who is here so early morning?", you complained but dragged your feets to open the door.
You were greeted by the Mailman with a package which seemed to be for you. He quickly handed you the parcel and took his leave. You stared at the packet in your hands.
It was sent by one of your long distance friends saying that you might like what was Inside. Curious, you closed the door and sat on the sofa to unwrap the packet rather vigorously just you know what was inside. You your utter disappointment, it was a book by Park Eun. You were about to throw it away but it was the book description written on the back which made you curious. Broken Hearts? Impressive. You skipped to the first chapter of the book and started reading. And the next moment you knew, you were so deep into the book that the whole world outside was mute to you.
It was a story. A story about how a girl saved him from a falling off a hill when he was little and from then, he fell in love with her deeply but never saw that unknown girl anymore. After a few years he saw her in a dream. She had dark long black hair, doe eyes and kissable lips. But whenever he was to get near her it seemed like she was getting further away and he could never reach her.
"Wait, dark long black hair, doe eyes and kissable lips? But that's my description....." you realised, staring at that sentence. Soft fingers skipped over to the last page where an Email ID was given for any kind of issue with the book. Well you SURELY have an issue now. Or else, why would your sworn enemy write about your description in his book... Or was it coincidence?
"[email protected]...." You said as you typed the address in the address bar.
❛❛ Why did you mention my description in your book?
[pic of that sentence attached]
Why are you messing with me when you already know who is gonna take New York Bestsellers trophy home this year? Just so you know i am not gonna let you take this one home.
Lots of hate,
Nari ❜❜
Was what was written in the email you sent.
You were eating lunch when a notification came to your phone. Rather unwillingly you took a glance at the screen. Expecting it to be yet another reminder from the bookseller that your deadline is near but to your surprise it was a reply from Lee Eun's Email!! You never expected him to reply within one day. You choked on your food and gulped a whole bottle of water down. Quickly clicking on the notification to that replied email.
❛❛ Hi! Please text on this number for your queries: +82 20121112xxx. ❜❜
Confused but curious, you added that number to your WhatsApp and copy pasted the whole email.
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(SAME DAY)
SUNGHOON'S ROOM, SEOUL, KOREA
"Hoon, how much more time are you gonna take?"
"just 5 more minutes"
Jake signed as he flopped down on the bed, tired of waiting for his friend to be back from shower. His eyes fell on Sunghoon's unlocked phone laying close to him. What made him more curious was the email notification from a rather known email showed on the lockscreen. Double tapping on the notification led him straight to that email. An Email from Sunghoon's sworn enemy. He decided to have some fun while sunghoon is gone. He thought, why not a little bit of Enemies to Lovers trope?
He attached Sunghoon's personal phone number with that mail...
He deleted that mail after it was sent, cleared it's whole existence.
"Jakey? What are you doing on my phone?", Sunghoon said after coming out of the bathroom, shocking Jake. "Ah-um-nothing-just ringing up my phone cuz it was lost haha", Jake said in a nervous tone and then ran to the bathroom.
Later that evening when Jake had gone back to his dorm, Sunghoon was chilling on the couch watching a movie with pop corn bits spread all around him, messy eater. A text from an unknown number alighted his phone screen, diverting his attention to it. But he was really confused.
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Sunghoon's eyeballs were about to roll out of their socket. No way his worst enemy was texting him. He cursed Jake under his breath.
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In anger, he threw away his phone across the couch, it's screen cracked. He is furious on Jake and your sarcasm, even tho, a weird thought crossed his mind that made him doubt himself.
What if Lee Nari is Y/n?
What if Lee Nari is Y/n?
What if Lee Nari is Y/n?
What if Lee Nari is Y/n?
What if Lee Nari is Y/n?
No, no, it cannot be
This thought the number of times crossed his mind made him breathless, pulling his hair and screaming. Lee Nari, his worst enemy can't be his lost childhood crush.
He couldn't sleep properly at night after those texts with Nari.
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
Send an ask for part 2. I promise this will be really exciting and my best fic ever.
169 notes · View notes
meazalykov · 17 days
Text
redirection; prologue
esmee brugts x barcaplayer!R
a girl realizing that a huge rejection lead her to the best redirection possible
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Most of the 2022-2023 season, I’ve been working hard within the tryout camps to get a spot on the United States Women’s national team roster for the World Cup. I played for the Washington Spirit in the NWSL as a Striker.
Most people in my circle believed that I would’ve had a spot on the World Cup roster due to my overachieving skills. I had high hopes about accomplishing my biggest dream. However, when I got the facetime call from the USWNT coach, letting me know that I wouldn’t be on the World cup roster, that belief was crushed. 
My emotions were all over the place when the facetime call ended. The tears in my eyes ran down my dimpled cheeks for hours. My breathing was rigid and I couldn't think straight. It got to a point where my bestfriend, Trinity Rodman, comforted me on a facetime call. She made it on the roster and my happiness for her was distracted by the disappointment for myself.
“I feel like my skills, hard work, and motivation goes unnoticed.” I cried on the facetime call to Trinity. I pulled the black sleeves of my Adidas hoodie up and wiped my tears. To be honest, I felt like clicking the red “end call” button and falling asleep. I didn’t want Trin’s happiness for herself to drain away due to my rejection from the World Cup. 
“There’s so many people in the world that recognize your talents, y/n. Everyone is disappointed too. Just know that your time will come and you can use this as a bigger push for the 2024 olympic roster.” Trinity commented. She was right, but the disappointment and rejection was too big to have optimistic thoughts currently. 
After the facetime call ended, my imessage notifications were blown up with most of my Washington Spirit teammates, family, and non-soccer playing friends apologizing to me when they didn’t see my name on the roster that was posted. They gave me reminders of how good of a player I still am. Many of my USWNT teammates, including my close friends Sophia Smith and Emily Fox, expressed how disappointed they were because I wouldn’t play in Australia with them. 
Currently, I have seven caps with the USWNT. As a nineteen year old, this is a normal amount of appearances. So I had developed relationships with some players who consistently appear on the team. 
Alex Morgan is an example. She is my inspiration as an American striker myself. I’ve seen many people compare us and how we play. I scrolled on the 433womenfc instagram comments on the USWNT roster post and a particular comment stuck out to me, 
“Washington Spirit’s y/n l/n should’ve had a spot over Alyssa Thompson. She could’ve been a good sub for Alex Morgan since they’re both strikers and she has more international experience. USWNT missed out.” 
The tears in my eyes poured down my face again but instead of calling a friend or family member to talk to, I placed my phone on the charger and went to sleep. 
Three months later: 
The USWNT was eliminated from the World Cup after a penalty shootout with Sweden in the Round of 16. This broke my heart when I watched the match in my apartment last week. The USWNT won the 2015 and 2019 World Cup and a three-peat would've broken records. 
Currently, I sat in the backseat of a fancy black van as I headed to a fancy restaurant in downtown DC. My agent wanted to talk to me about my next career move, since my contract with Washington Spirit expired right before the world cup. 
I am assuming that my next move will be within the NWSL, many clubs contacted my agent during past transfer windows for a possible move. However, Spirit rejected those transfers since they saw me as an important striker. Trinity wanted me to stay at Washington Spirit and sign a new contract. I didn’t because I felt lost. I knew my heart belonged somewhere else. I loved the club I've been with since I was sixteen, but I needed to move on. 
The dark green pants and black long sleeve on my body was comfortable for the early-august weather. You’d expect the weather to be hot but it’s 8pm and the breezy air made for a perfect temperature. 
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I sat down in a booth across from my agent, Heather. She held a blue ipad in her hands and already ordered water for us, which I took a sip of after we greeted each other. This meeting would determine my next career move.
Two hours later, I walked out of the restaurant in excitement and shock. Heather let me know that many clubs in many leagues contacted her as they needed a goal scoring striker. 
WSL clubs, such as Chelsea and Manchester United, were the first to contact my agent. In fact, they’ve wanted me since the last transfer window. I wasn't opposed to Chelsea, since a few of my American friends played there. NSWL clubs such as San Diego Wave, Houston Dash, and Portland Thorns wanted to offer me a contract too. 
When my agent mentioned the last club that offered me a contract, my jaw dropped to my feet. Liga F club FC Barcelona needed a striker and their coach was impressed by my goal scoring abilities from last season. Barcelona was my dream club and Heather saw my eyes light up in admiration and disbelief. 
As the dinner ended, I told Heather that I'm looking forward to joining Barcelona. She told me that she will let Joan Laporta and the sporting director know about my commitment. I wanted to cry in joy, I am moving to Spain soon to join my dream club! 
(pretend you’re trinity rodman) 
433womensfc
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Liked by salmaparalluelo, and 21,613 others
tagged: @y/n.l/n
OFFICIAL: 🚨 19-year old American Striker y/n l/n from Washington Spirit signs a 3-year contract with FC Barcelona on a free transfer. She will be the first American to sign for the Liga F club 🇺🇸🔵🔴 
comments
y/nstrikes_ barca fans she will not disappoint! 💙❤️
esmeebrugts 🔥🔥
wosofan23 aitana bonmati and y/n l/n link on the pitch should be illegal 😭
        leahwilliamsfan67 i agree 
lekkerbrugts esmee ona and y/n joining barcelona?? barcelona is unstoppable. 
cghlover55 this is so crazy 😍🔥
randomuser4789 she was too good for the nwsl, can’t wait to see her compete in europe.  ❤️
   16 replies 
(pretend you're ona batlle)
fcbfemeni and y/n.l/n
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liked by esmeebrugts and 93,973 others
our american star has arrived 😍💙❤️🌟
comments
aitanabonmati ❤️
ingrid_engen 😍😍
graham95 niceee🤩
y/nhive THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY
felixfan14 SAME 😍
trinity_rodman SO HAPPY FOR YOU *nickname* 😭💗🎉
lindseyhoran10 woohoo!!!
uswnt 😍
alexiaputellas 🥰
*esmeebrugts started following y/n.l/n*
next chapter: redirection I
a/n: this is my first woso fic! this is the first chapter to this series and I'll write more for other players as well :D I hope you enjoy!
108 notes · View notes
labrxnth · 2 months
Text
Prison Break- Part 10 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)
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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER
Tag list:
WC: 5348
CW: Alcohol, SMUT VERY MUCH SMUT, oral, vaginal, dubious consent (If you squint. They both had like one drink)
A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, take this as my apology. This is also my second time ever writing smut so uhhh take it as it is.
Summary: You and Leon go to a holiday dinner hosted by your friends. But surprise, you're feeling melancholic.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
The freshly fallen snow had covered the surroundings of Washington D.C.. Looking like icing or a weighted blanket, it brought a chill yet a warmth. This season had the tendency to do this to you, after all this was the holiday for nostalgia. 
Your footsteps crunched on the snow as you made your way through the hip level gate into the front yard of the small house. Being from the north, “farming country” as the people in Boston called it, it always amused you what people would consider a yard. For most of America it meant a small area in the front of the house covered with dead grass. There were no woods here. 
There was no place to run like you used to as a kid.No place to explore uncharted, besides people. 
You would rather deal with the isolating darkness in the woods than try to figure out people. But, you were trying and that’s all that mattered.
A hand brushed up against yours, finding it and slipping into it. The warmth being spread even through layers of gloves and mittens caught your attention, bringing you back to reality. 
Your head turned to your right as the one person you may have just figured out stood next to you. 
“You okay? You seem a little spacey,” Leon’s voice asked, a billow of smoke coming out of his mouth into the freezing cold. 
“Yeah, just homesick,” You replied. 
Leon’s eyebrow raised, asking a silent question. Wasn’t this your home?
With a sigh, you leaned closer to him, shoulder to shoulder and still walking in tandem. “As much time as I spend here, I’m not sure it’ll feel like home,” You said. 
“Maybe that’ll change,” He replied. His arm raised to wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his warmth more. “But I get it, I still miss my life from before… everything.”
“Will it change?” You asked as the two of you stopped on the small wooden porch. Your eyes met his.
“The way I’ve learned it is that connections make a place home. You have friends here now, at least more than you used to,” Leon said and shrugged. “And y’know, you have more important people too.”
You stared blankly at him, confused at what he was hinting at. After a few seconds of silence between the two of you, Leon looked away, 
“My girlfriend doesn’t think I’m important to her,” He added, feigning offense.
Your eyes widened as your arms wrapped around him in an apology. “You confused me,” You said, frowning at him. “I thought you were talking about a family member or something,” You grumbled. 
Leon stared back at you, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh so I’m not a-”
He got cut off by you grabbing a fistful of snow and throwing it at him. 
“Jesus (Y/n), you are a thirty-two year old woman,” Leon said, wiping the snow off and spitting the parts that got in his mouth out. You would've thought he was being serious if it weren’t for the glint in his eyes.
“Don’t be a dipshit,” You said lightly and helped him get the snow off his face. 
“I thought you like my wit and charm,” He said, his voice carrying that teasing cadence that you had come to learn. 
“Who told you that? I’m only dating you for your looks,” You said facetiously, a grin on your face. 
“I don’t blame you.”
You were about to say something back when the front door suddenly opened in front of you. In the door stood Chris Redfield. He had on an ugly Christmas sweater with a garble of words on it that you couldn’t make out, a reindeer antler headband, and a flat expression on his face. 
Your hand covered your mouth, trying to hide the giggle that was almost coming out. In your peripheral, you could see that Leon was grinning almost ear to ear, amused at Chris’s appearance.
“You two are late,” Chris said and glanced at Leon.
“Why are you looking at me? It’s not my fault!” Leon said.
Chris looked at Leon, not believing him for a second. “I know (Y/n), it was definitely not her fault.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at Leon amused. “Anyways, everyone else is inside, leave your shoes at the door.” He turned to walk back into the house. 
With Chris’s absence, you could feel the warmth emitting from the house. It beckoned the two of you inside. Leon let you go in first, closing the door behind the two of you. You kicked off your snow boots and smelled the familiar smell of a heater running. 
You went to take your scarf off, but Leon beat you to it, spinning you slightly as he did so. The spin brought you closer to him and his body, leaving only a few inches between your faces. 
He had a knowing grin on his face, seeming amused with himself for being able to do that. 
“You know we’re with other people, right?” You asked and raised an eyebrow. 
Leon Kennedy was a gentleman at heart, but you knew that when he was being over the top it usually meant he wanted attention. He was a gentleman, but also somewhat like a male bird. Always wanting your attention and doing things to get it. 
“I know, gotta show off how good of a boyfriend you have,” Leon replied and kissed your cheek. Your fingers laced together when you and Leon’s hands found each other naturally. 
After a swift kiss, the two of you made your way into the living room, placing a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey on the counter. You didn’t expect the company to notice you walking in, but everyone said something of a greeting. 
Jill was on the couch with Chris, she smiled in recognition at you and your heart fluttered a bit. 
Had you mentioned before that Jill looked a lot like Leon and it confused your little heart? Not to mention her completely badass “get shit done” attitude made her very impressive. 
You watched as her arm draped across Chris’s shoulders and the two of them smiled warmly at each other. 
Leon started chatting with Claire while you found a spot on the floor next to your favorite Professor, Rebecca Chambers. Ever since you met the woman, you had a lot of respect for her; she was a biochem college professor, a PhD doctor, a previous S.T.A.R.S. member, and a kickass combat medic. She also had a warm attitude that made any situation more manageable. 
You had come to be friends with her after that whole mess with Glen Arias. 
“Merry Christmas, (Y/n),” Rebecca said and gave you a warm smile. 
You said the same back and the two of you began talking about how the past few months had gone. It had officially been five months since Alcatraz and while you wanted to keep in touch, it took a nudge from Leon to reach out to people. 
The living room was filled with a type of warmth you hadn’t experienced since before your world came crashing down around you. You hadn’t felt like this since…..
Since New Hampshire…
Home.
 “Okay guys, onto our first holiday tradition!” Claire said with authority, standing up. 
“Do we have to this ye-” Chris started.
“Yes, we do, don’t be a grouch!” Claire said, staring at her brother. 
You looked at the two of them and lightly smiled as memories flooded you. 
You had a family. You knew they were still alive, but they didn’t know you were. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
February 24th 2009
The snow felt different here than you were used to. What was a beautiful blanket of snow in your small apple farming town, was a bitter, sharp, force of nature in the city. 
You always had mixed feelings about Boston, on one hand it was fun to have a major city an hour away from your house, but on the other hand you liked the distance. You tended to keep a distance, a separation between the city and your hometown. 
That’s what your parents did anyways. They came from the city, opting for a small town with good education to raise you and your brother. But now, you were back in the cold city, your usual coffee order sitting on the table in front of you while your eyes searched for anyone familiar. 
Your head leaned on your hand as you thought about this time of year. Your birthday was a month ago, but it wasn’t celebratory. You got a pat on the back from your Captain for making it one more year around the sun. 
If your captain knew you snuck out, you’d be discharged, your thoughts ran wild. And if you get discharged, you catch the discharge out of a gun, you know too much.
Your leg started bouncing up and down, something you had started doing since joining USStratcom. 
If you didn’t see them, it wasn’t worth it. The torture you were put through every day wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t just see the people you did this for. 
When the government found you after what happened in Manchester, your options were either to join USStratcom and get trained to fight whatever horror you saw that night or to decline. If you declined, you would’ve been checked out of this world early, your blood spilling on the ground and your family would soon join you. 
The U.S. government didn’t like loose ends. 
Your eyes searched the sidewalk as you finally saw a glimpse at who you came here for. 
Across the street, a woman threw back her rain coat’s hood, revealing the same face that was your own, only more aged. Your mother reached into her purse to find something, then produced a key. She put it in a door and walked up a flight of stairs and out of sight. 
Just like that, she appeared and was gone. Within the span of thirty seconds. She was just passing, going into her apartment like she did everyday. IT was something so small, but to you it meant the world. 
You saw a light turn on in a room on the fifth floor. From your seat, you could see the curtain moving and the sight of a man around your age appeared in the window. 
They were alive and living their lives, unaware of what happened to you.
The government didn’t answer any questions about you to your family, they just took you as soon as you agreed to join USStratcom. 
You brought your coffee out the door with you, taking your umbrella out and opening it. Using the crosswalk, you walked across the street and looked at the door your mom entered. 
It was almost like you could feel the red dot appear on your back as a bead of sweat rolled down your face. You shouldn’t go in, you shouldn’t have even seen them. 
But you wanted them to know you were okay…. 
The rain hit the sidewalk and the sound of the doorbell could be heard inside of the apartment. However, when the woman opened the door, the person who rang it was gone, leaving only the ghost of memories and a single flower on the welcome mat. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
“(Y/n)?” Leon’s voice cut through the memory, bringing you back to Jill’s house.
You blinked a bit, shaking your head slightly and looked down at the table. Somehow, while enthralled in the memory, you had sat down at the dining table and started playing a board game with everyone else. It would be impressive, if it wasn’t scary how good you were at that. 
Your eyes looked down at the money you owned in the game and you rolled the dice. Your turn went quickly, as you wanted this to be done. 
It felt like you had gotten ripped out of a separate reality. And for all intents and purposes, you did. 
Leon’s hand went to the back of your chair and he searched your face, knowing something was wrong. 
“Hey, Redfield, play for me. And Jill, play for (Y/n).” Leon said and stood up, nodding to the other room. 
You followed him as you heard Chris grumbling about not wanting to play. 
The voices and the light from the dining room started getting more distant the further you went into Jill’s house. Leon motioned for you to head into the guest room and you did without question. 
When Leon walked in, he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?” He asked and looked down at you. His hand came up to stroke your cheek and he cupped your face. 
“It’s nothing… just a memory,” You replied, your gaze sinking to the floor. 
“Just a memory? Raccoon City could be ‘just a memory’. Nothing is small if it affects you this much.” Leon replied, now holding your face with two hands. 
He tilted your head up so you were looking at him. “Please, tell me. We promised to talk to each other.” He added.
If anyone could melt your heart easily, it was Leon Kennedy. Even as a late 30s year old man, he could act like a little puppy. Especially now when he was giving you the stare that unwound your heart. 
“It was a memory about sneaking away from training and seeing my mom.” You replied, your arms reaching out for him. He pulled you closer and leaned his head on top of yours. 
“She knows you’re alive?” Leon asked. 
“No. I made sure she didn’t see me. This life is too hard to have a family in.” You answered and nestled into him. “Except for maybe other people that know this life.” You added and looked up at him. To add a certain element to it, you bat your eyelashes at him, hoping he would fall for the bait. 
“Very cute, but I’m not falling for it,” Leon said, a smile on his lips. “We’re not leaving early.”
You pouted at him. “That’s not what I meant…” You grumbled. 
Leon’s lips met your forehead in a quick kiss, then his lips met yours. The softness of his lips against your skin set everything in you ablaze. He was your warmth on a cold day like today. 
“Is that what you were looking for?” He asked. 
“Actually, yes,” You replied and chuckled. The two of you stared at each other with the magnitude of two planets coming together. His soft blue eyes met your (e/c) ones. 
“I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said, sighing. The usual smirk was plastered on his face. “But seriously, we promised to be communicative with each other, and I want to know what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours.”
His lips met your temple in a quick peck. 
“Okay,” You replied. Your hands wrapped around his waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. 
“Feeling better?” He asked. His hands ran up and down your arms, soothing and warming you up. 
You nodded in reply, your face moving against his shirt. 
“Alright, let’s head back in there and get drunk,” Leon said facetiously and kissed your cheek again. “I’ll even let you sit on my lap if you’re good.” The grin on his face was enough for you to playfully slap his arm. 
“I'll take the offer but don't be weird about it,” You answered and stuck your tongue out. The two of you made your way back to the table and it was like walking into a battlefield.
It wasn’t hard to determine what happened, Claire and Chris were scrubbing the carpet with sponges, Rebecca was picking up broken glasses, Jill was picking up the board game that had been scattered on the floor. The table was tipped over and Chris had a guilty look on his face as he scrubbed away at the coffee and alcohol stains on Jill’s carpet. 
You and Leon helped put the table back and Jill put cards on the table. “Christopher, I swear to God if I have to ban you from playing fucking cards, I will,” She said and glared at him. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
The cards were dealt and the alcohol was poured. You were watching Leon play, as you were never one to play Texas Holdem; you could never get the rules down unless you had the chart of what was most valuable by your side. 
You were seated between Leon’s legs, your back against his chest. His head was leaned on your shoulder as he studied the cards in his hand. Your eyes looked at the cards as you took a sip from your glass. The alcohol smoothly went down your throat, surprising you. Whiskey usually didn’t appeal to you, but then again neither did wine. 
And your choice was one of the two. 
As you kept sipping from your glass, Leon’s arm around your waist tightened. “Slow down,” His voice gently warned you. 
You were used to drinks that you would shoot, and Leon could tell you would be in for a rough morning if you continued. Thanks to his words, you put the glass back down on the table and watched the game play out.
Claire won, as usual, and she collected the total of 5.00$ from the pile. You got more comfortable, squirming around in the chair as you did so. What you hadn’t taken into account was how close you were to Leon and that when you moved, you slightly rubbed up against him, earning you a slight, sharp inhale from your boyfriend. 
“Can you sit still?” Leon asked quietly, looking at you. You nodded in reply, noticing how his ears were red with blush. 
An idea came to your head. 
Was it fueled by the slight amount of whiskey in your system? Maybe, but it wasn’t abnormal for you to mess with Leon. If he was allowed to tease you, then certainly you were allowed to tease him. 
Without catching anyone else’s attention, you moved slightly, pressing your ass against his pants more. You moved slightly side to side, which caused Leon to slightly hiss and move his free hand from your waist to your hip to hold you still. 
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” He whispered in your ear. 
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at how bothered he sounded. Maybe you were playing a dangerous game, but you were certainly ready for the consequences of your actions. 
You moved a little more, pressing yourself against him more-
With a pap!, Leon’s cards were put face up on the table. “Well guys, thanks for having us. Me and Sadie still have work tomorrow, so we’re actually gonna head out,” Leon’s voice said.
“Really? In the middle of a game?” Jill asked, her eyebrow arched. 
Leon nodded adamantly. “The bosses want us in bright and early. (Y/n) doesn’t do mornings well, so it’s best to head home early. We’ll see you for New Year’s,” He said and tapped your hips to get you up. 
You stood up and he grabbed your hand leading you to the door to grab your shoes. 
“Bye! It was really fun, thanks for inviting me,” You said with a smile. 
“Of course, you’re part of the family now,” Claire said, matter-of-factly. 
Family…. 
The word rang in your ears and you thought about it, lingered on it so much that you hadn’t even noticed you were now getting out of your car in the parking garage. Leon’s hand was in yours as the two of you walked to the door. 
Claire had said family, you belonged. 
The thought could have brought tears to your eyes if you weren’t also thinking about your current situation. 
Suddenly, you were in your apartment, the door closing behind you and Leon pinning you to the door. 
“Really?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. His large, muscular forearm was right next to your head.
“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 
He stared at you. “I told you that you were playing a dangerous game,” He added. 
A grin pulled at your lips as you slightly bit your bottom lip. “I know,” You replied. 
Leon pinched his nose and sighed. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said. His eyes then locked with yours and he leaned in, leaving only a few inches of space between the two of you. “But other times, I know what I want to do to you.” His eyes turned into a fire, something you were now all too familiar with. 
“And what would that be?” You asked, tilting your head up to him. 
He leaned in close, almost like he was going to bite your neck, his breath hot against your neck. 
“I’m going to make you cum on my mouth, then my dick,” He said. 
Your face turned a deep shade of red at his words. “Is- is that a promise?” You asked, still trying to remain in control of your heart and emotions that were dialed all the way up. 
“You’re so cute when you try to fight how flustered you are,” He hummed and kissed your neck. His teeth lightly bit down and his lips left a mark as he pulled away. 
He picked you up by your waist, earning a yelp from your lips, and carried you through your apartment to the bedroom. He dropped you gently on the mattress and his lips were on yours in an instant.  
His knees were on either side of your legs and one of his hands was on your hip while the other one kept him upright on the bed. 
Your lips crashed together, begging to taste the other. Leon’s teeth lightly bit your bottom lip, asking for permission. You opened your lips and his tongue entered your mouth, searching for your own. Your tongues locked together and twirled in a way that could only be described as dancing. 
As you pulled away for a breath, you noticed his hands were already working on taking your pants off, the jeans being halfway down your legs. Leon’s eyes locked with yours again as a slight, cocky, smirk graced his face. 
“Tell me what you want,” He mused, his hand pulling your pants off all the way. Then, his hand came up to your hair, running through the strands. “Use your words, we promised to be communicative,” He added. 
“I need your mouth between my legs,” You said breathlessly. He took your words as a green light and almost ripped your panties off. 
Leon was a gentle lover most of the time, especially when you wanted him to be, but playing with him and getting him all riled up was the easiest way to make him intense. You had made the man desperate for you undone, wrapped around him. 
He moved lower, his lips trailing down your shirt and stomach. As he moved lower, his body inched lower, making room for him near your core. 
He grabbed a pillow and put it at the small of your back, angling your, now uncovered, entrance towards him. With a slight hum, he kissed the inside of your thigh, teasing you. 
His lips felt like feathers, then a sudden pain shot up your body. Leaning up on your elbows, and looking at him, you could see that he had slightly bit into your thigh, leaving a mark. He kissed your body like a man starved, like he had been deprived of a core need his entire life. Even though your sex life was colorful and frequent, he always treated you like he was tasting and feeling you for the first time. 
A jolt of pleasure finally hit you as his tongue found your clit, swollen in anticipation and arousal. A small moan escaped your lips as your head hung back, looking up at the ceiling. 
You could almost feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed your vulva, making sure to worship all of your parts and give them what they craved. His arms hooked around your thighs, bringing your body closer to his face. 
Your back arched against the pillow as another jolt of pleasure surged through you, feeling his tongue and lips paying attention to every part that needed it. You two had been together long enough for Leon to know where and how to pleasure you. He knew your body like his own, wanting to leave you so satisfied that you couldn’t talk. 
“Babe, babe, slow down!” You whimpered, your hand digging into his hair and pulling it slightly. “I’m gonna-” You were cut off by a moan leaving your lips. Your eyes met his and it felt like you were prey stuck in the gaze of a hunter. 
He pulled away slightly, giving you a bit of respite, and he titled his head. “Do you actually want me to slow down?” He asked, his eyes turning softer. 
You shook your head a bit and he nodded, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “I said what I wanted to do to you, don’t deny a man his partner’s pleasure,” He said and moved back down, assuming the position he had before. 
He kept lapping at your clit, making you flex your thigh muscles. The pleasure ran through your whole body as you hit your orgasm. A moan left your lips as you could feel your pussy clenching around something that wasn’t there, aching for him. Your body instantly relaxed into the mattress as you were coming down from your climax. Leon sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, licking his lips to clean up any of your cum from them. 
He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek again. Your hands found their way to his chest and ran over the muscles there as he started to take off his pants. 
His pants were off in a few seconds and the same with his boxers. You sat up and your hand went to feel his shaft, but his hand stopped you. He kissed your cheek again, his words hot on your ear. “Not tonight. I want to please you tonight,” He said quietly. 
His hands lifted your shirt over your head and his mouth was on your breasts. His hands wrapped around your back and unhooked your bra, leaving you completely bare to him. Your breath hitched as his lips made their way back to your neck. 
With ease, Leon had you in his lap, facing him. The two of you loved this position, being as close as you possibly could, facing each other. It felt intimate and it could be rough if the night permitted it. 
And tonight did permit it. 
Leon only took a few seconds to coat the tip of his dick with your climax. He teased your entrance, then slammed into you. A moan escaped both of your lips as his dicks slid effortlessly into you, your walls being accustomed to his size and shape by now. 
Your face leaned into his shoulder as he started snapping his hips into you. The movement made you wrap your arms around his neck like you would fall off. His hands went to your hips, making you move in opposition to his movements, making the come together all the more pleasurable. 
Leon moved your hair out of your face with one hand and he smiled at you. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. And only I get to see you this way,” He said, kissing your forehead. 
His words were enough to make your pussy clench around him more, causing a moan to fall out of his lips. 
“You take me so well, holy fuck,” He said breathlessly.
All that could be heard in the room was obscene sounds and Leon praising you between the two of your moans. 
The hot pleasure was building inside of you, and you could feel Leono’s dick twitching inside of you. 
“Where do you want it?” He asked quickly, trying to get the words out. 
“You can stay in,” You said, your eyes meeting his. He nodded, his eyes half squeezed shut from a nearing climax. 
In a moment that came together perfectly, pun intended, you reached your orgasm. You made a sound that was a mix of a whimper and a moan, pulling yourself closer to Leon in the process. You saw stars as you got sent over the edge, feeling your pleasure explode within you. 
With a slight haa Leon kept going, feeling his dick getting squeezed by your walls. “I’m gonna-” He got cut off by his own moan and he buried his face in your shoulder and snapped his hips into you a few more times. 
You felt his cum drip into you, evident by Leon panting and the back of his neck being red with a blush. Your hand gently ran through the hair on the back of his head, soothing him through his own orgasm. 
After a few minutes of being in your arms like this, he came back to. “I’ll go gr
After a few minutes of being in your arms like that, he came to. His breathing got more regular, going from a pant to barely being audible. His muscles relaxed and his grip on you got looser. 
“I’ll go grab you a towel,” He said and pulled out. Both of you winced at the sudden stimulation again and he got up to grab a towel from the bathroom.
He came back with a bowl of fruit, some water, and a towel. Climbing back on the bed, he put the water and fruit on the nightstand and gently cleaned you off with the towel. His hands made quick and easy work, making sure to clean off your sweat as well. 
After, he settled down next to you and pulled you into his arms. His arm wrapped around your waist and the other grabbed your snacks as he kissed your head. 
“How’re you feeling, (Y/n)?” He asked softly. 
“Good…” You mumbled and popped a raspberry in your mouth. 
The two of you laid together, regaining whatever energy you could in each others’ warmth. Leon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled warmly at you. 
“I think I found something I’ve been looking for for a long time,” He said blissfully. 
You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. 
“Someone that’s my family, someone I belong to. And someone that belongs to me,” He explained. 
Your eyebrows relaxed as you smiled at his words. 
Thinking about the past few months with this man, no the past few years, was enough to give you that same sense of warmth. He took you under his wing as a field partner, he never pried about your past until you wanted to open up to him. 
The endless amount of bar hang out, the numerous missions, all of came to mind. And you were finding yourself of the same mind as him. 
No matter your past, you were part of his family now, and he yours. The two of you were unstoppable on the field and in your relationship. You didn't know how to say all the thoughts and words swimming in your head, so you opted for three words that would sum it all up.
“I love you,” You said quietly and leaned into his embrace. 
His smile widened and he squeezed you closer. “I love you too,” He replied. 
No matter what fucked up bioweapon came your way next, you were certain that you could always come back to your family- Leon Kennedy. 
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wardenparker · 9 days
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring. Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park. Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9
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The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.
Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."
“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.
“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”
“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.
He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.
“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”
“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”
“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.
"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"
“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”
Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."
“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”
"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."
He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.
"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.
Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”
"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."
“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.
"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.
“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.
"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.
“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”
"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."
“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”
"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.
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The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.
There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.
The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.
Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.
“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.
“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”
“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”
Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”
“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.
“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”
“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.
“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.
“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”
Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.
It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”
“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”
“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.
“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”
Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.
When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”
"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."
“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”
"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."
Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”
"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.
“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”
Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."
“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”
"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."
“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”
"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.
Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”
"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."
There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”
“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”
“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”
You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.
The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”
The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."
“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”
"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."
“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”
"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.
“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”
The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.
“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.
“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.
“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”
For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.
Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.
A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.
“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.
"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."
"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."
Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”
"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."
"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."
She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”
"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."
“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”
"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."
Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.
"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."
“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.
"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.
Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.
"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."
“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.
"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."
“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”
Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”
“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.
That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.
“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”
“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”
“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”
“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.
Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.
“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”
"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."
Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”
"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."
“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”
"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."
“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”
"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.
The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”
"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."
“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”
"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."
“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.
"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."
Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”
“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”
“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”
“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”
“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”
“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”
“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.
“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.
"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."
“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”
"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"
“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”
He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."
“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.
"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."
“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.
You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."
“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.
"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.
“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”
"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."
“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.
"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."
“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.
"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."
"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."
“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”
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For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.
“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.
“It’s beautiful.” It’s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”
“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.
“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.
“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”
“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”
“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”
“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.
Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”
“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.
“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.
“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”
“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”
“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”
“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”
“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”
“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”
“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”
“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”
“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”
“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”
“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.
“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.
“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”
“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.
"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.
“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.
"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."
Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”
"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.
“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”
When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"
“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.
Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."
“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.
"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.
“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”
"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.
“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”
"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.
“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.
"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."
“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”
"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.
“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”
"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."
“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.
“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”
“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”
“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.
“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”
“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”
“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”
“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”
“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”
“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.
“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”
There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”
“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”
“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”
“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.
“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”
“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.
“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”
“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”
“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.
“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”
“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.
“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”
“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”
“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”
“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.
Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.
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Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.
“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”
"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.
“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”
"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.
“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”
"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."
“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”
"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.
“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.
“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.
“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.
“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.
“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.
Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”
“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.
"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."
“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”
"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."
He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”
Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."
He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.
"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"
“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.
"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.
His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”
"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."
“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”
"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.
“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.
"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.
“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”
The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.
“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”
"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."
“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”
"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."
“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”
"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."
“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.
“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.
“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”
“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”
“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”
“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”
“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.
“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.
“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.
“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.
“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.
“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”
“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”
“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”
“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.
“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”
“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”
“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.
“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”
“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.
“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.
"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.
“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.
"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."
You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.
"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"
“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”
"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"
“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”
Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."
“Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”
"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."
“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”
"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."
“So after that birthday….um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”
"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."
“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.
The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."
“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.
"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."
“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”
"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.
“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.
"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."
“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.
"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.
“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”
Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."
“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”
You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."
“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”
“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”
“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”
“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”
“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”
“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”
“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”
“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”
“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”
“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”
“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”
“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”
“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”
“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”
“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”
“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”
“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.
“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.
“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”
He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”
“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”
“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”
______
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1americanconservative · 8 months
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@ScottFishman
Tucker is Outing Obama as Gay. But Everyone is Missing the Big Story. I’m Obama’s College Classmate. I’ve Been Trying to Warn America for 15 years! By Wayne Allyn Root I’m Barak Obama’s college classmate at Columbia University, Class of ’83. I’m also the author of the #1 bestselling hardcover book in America in 2012, “The Ultimate Obama Survival Guide.” I’ve always had Obama’s number. I understand what makes him tick. I understand his goals. First let’s get the “gay issue” out of the way. I’ve reported on both my radio and TV shows for 15 years that my wealthy, connected friends in Chicago have always said, “Obama frequented gay bath houses and gay clubs. Everyone in the know, knows Obama is gay.” Now that we’ve heard from Obama’s biographer that Obama wrote about his daily gay fantasies, I think it’s pretty clear my Chicago pals were right. Tucker Carlson is onto something! But gay is not the issue. The issue here is fraud. If Obama is in fact gay, then he was lying to the American people from day one. He portrayed himself as a happily married family man with a wife and two beautiful young daughters. That’s called fraud.
If America had known the truth in 2008, does anyone honestly think Obama would have been elected president? But all of this is small potatoes. This is not the big story. Why does any of this matter now? Because Joe Biden is a brain-dead puppet. This is the third term of Obama. The proof is we are all reliving the nightmare Obama economy. Great for Wall Street and billion-dollar multi-national corporations. But a disaster for the American middle class and Main Street. Second, Biden is fading fast – and everyone can see it. At the same time Biden’s cognitive health is in freefall, all of his corruption from the past is pouring out of the closet. Biden is finished. He is toast. He will never make it to 2024. Sometime this fall Biden will have a very public “episode” and be hospitalized. Soon thereafter he (or Jill) will announce he is stepping down for “health reasons.” Who will replace him? Either Michelle Obama or Gavin Newsom. But whoever it is, Obama will be calling the shots from his nearby Washington DC mansion. That’s why this story matters. I’ve had Obama pegged from the first day. Obama is the ultimate “Manchurian Candidate.” Gay is unimportant. What matters is he was groomed to be president by the Deep State and communist, fascist, globalist enemies of the United States. What matters is Obama is a radical Marxist tyrant carrying out the destruction of America.
Obama was tame in his first two terms. He was “boiling the frog slowly.” But Trump ruined his plan. Now Obama is trying to destroy this country as fast as he can before Trump has a second chance to undo the damage. And at the same time, Obama is coordinating the attacks on Trump to either imprison him, kill him, or disqualify him. My guest on my show, “America’s Top Ten Countdown” on Real America’s Voice TV last week was former Illinois Governor Rod “Blago” Blagojevich. Blago’s Governor’s mansion was raided by an early morning FBI Swat team. Sound familiar? I pointed out to “Blago” that Obama’s fingerprints were all over his frame job… and FBI SWAT raid… and long prison sentence. Obama set him up. Obama took away his freedom. I asked him to comment. Blago reported, “Obama set up the meeting that led to my arrest.” Do you get it now? It’s the exact same M.O. as what’s happening to President Trump. The same FBI raids, persecution, frame job. The same weaponization of government to destroy Obama’s political adversaries. I’ve always said the key to understanding Obama was his time at Columbia University.
First, there is the “Ghost of Columbia” mystery. I was a Pre Law, Political Science major. So was Obama. He had to be in all the same classes as me. But he was never in one class. I never met Obama, never saw him, never heard of him, never met anyone at Columbia who has. Obama got in, so why didn’t anyone ever see him? My educated guess is Obama was in the Soviet Union studying communism. Columbia had a “sister school” in Moscow. That would be the only real answer as to why Obama was rarely if ever seen at Columbia. He was being groomed way back then by the enemies of America. Secondly, at Columbia we learned a plan to destroy America called “Cloward Piven.” I’ll bet Obama spent two years in the Soviet Union at our “sister school” becoming the world’s expert. Look around. Everything happening in America today is Cloward Piven… The open borders bringing millions of foreigners into our country, changing our demographics forever. The explosion of welfare and bailouts. The Green New Deal. The destruction of our military. The end of the dollar as world reserve currency. The plans for pandemic lockdowns, climate change lockdowns and Central Bank Digital Currency.
The censorship, banning of dissent, and weaponization of government against conservatives and Christians. Defund the police. The vicious criminals let out without bail. Critical Race Theory and Transgender brainwashing. Persecution of PTA parents. Conservatives and Christians classified as “domestic terrorists.” The arrest of political opponents. 87,000 new IRS agents. It’s all about Cloward Piven and communist-level control. Sound familiar? It’s what Obama the “Manchurian Candidate” learned in the Soviet Union from the best. This man was groomed from day one by the communist and globalist enemies of America. He was sent to destroy us. Now he’s working behind the scenes to finish the job. He is the man who ordered the spying on Trump. The framing of Trump. Now he’s the man directing the nonstop government attacks against Trump. Just as he did to Blago. So, Obama being gay is the least of it. America is being destroyed. Obama is at the root of every evil thing happening.
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