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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

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If We're Being Honest [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.8k [Part 2]

Summary: Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader

a/n: This is a two part little fic with angst in this first half and the comfort y'all want in the second half. I was craving angst and a twist on the typical confession of feelings fic, so here y'all go! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia

Absently spinning your bottle of beer on the table with one hand, your eyes were fixed on the little droplets of condensation along the side of it. Your chin rested in the palm of your other hand as you watched one of the droplets begin to snake its way down the side of the brown glass, moving as if it was in slow motion. Outside of the bar, the downpour of summer rain battered against the window to your left.

Foggy’s hand loudly and abruptly slapping the table broke through your daze, causing you to jump in your seat. Eyes flying over towards him beside you, you watched as he let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back over his shoulders. Karen and Matt both quickly followed after, breaking into a fit of laughter along with him. Meanwhile you sat in your seat with absolutely no idea what had them laughing so hard because you hadn't been paying attention to the conversation for the past few minutes.

You'd been having a rough week, both emotionally and mentally, and were currently trying your hardest not to sit and wallow in self-pity tonight–but you weren't doing a great job of that so far. Not only had you received a wedding invitation to your cousin's wedding the other day, but last night Marci had asked you to be a bridesmaid at her and Foggy’s upcoming wedding. Which of course you'd said yes to, ecstatic for your friends to finally be getting married and having an actual date set for their big day. But all of that had made you increasingly aware of your own single-ness this week in particular, especially after Karen had spent the first part of tonight gushing about the new guy she'd been seeing.

You were happy for your friends, honestly. They were amazing people who deserved nothing but the best. You absolutely couldn't wait for all of the wedding festivities coming up that you'd be celebrating with everyone, either–for Marci and Fog's wedding and your cousin. You even thought the guy Karen was seeing sounded like an actual great catch for her for once.

But you just couldn't help but feel like there was something wrong with you tonight. It had been far too long since you'd last had a date, and even longer than that since you'd been in a relationship. It didn't help that you certainly didn’t feel like you fit in with this group of friends you’d somehow found yourself a part of for the past almost year now.

It had been by sheer accident that you’d met Foggy and Karen one morning all those months ago. And it was only because the three of you had had a coffee mishap at a coffee shop near the office where they worked. It was Foggy who’d chased you out of that shop for the drink you'd accidentally grabbed by mistake. Apparently it had been for his law firm partner Matt, who happened to be very particular about his coffee. They needed to be at the courthouse in time for a court case that morning so he didn't have time to get back in line to reorder the coffee. Having not had a chance to drink from the cup in the time you'd managed to grab it and make your way out the door, you'd readily swapped Matt's drink with your actual coffee that Foggy had grabbed. You’d apologized profusely for the mistake, but you'd formed the opinion that his firm partner sounded like an ass to be that particular about his coffee.

And for the next few mornings before work after that, you kept noticing Karen and Foggy at the same coffee shop. The pair of them were always excited to greet you, jokingly dubbing you the ‘coffee thief’ from that moment forward. It wasn’t long before the morning small talk in the line for coffee eventually led to them inviting you out to this little dive bar at Josie’s where you had finally met him .

Matthew Michael Murdock.

As the laughter subsided at the table, your eyes shifted over to Matt as if they were magnetically drawn to him. There was a broad smile stretched wide across his face, displaying his perfect, white teeth. The adorable, lone dimple in his right cheek was visible tonight just beneath the stubble that was a bit darker and thicker than he usually kept it. His dark hair was partially windswept but now finally dry from the rain that had dampened it earlier. Somehow that had just made his hair look messy in a way that seemed intentional. His tie was partially undone, loose around the collar of his light blue dress shirt; and as usual by the time he’d reached Josie’s, his sleeves had been rolled up exactly two times to reveal those muscular forearms of his covered in that smattering of little dark hairs you’d always longed to touch.

He looked good– so good. But he always did.

And of course, you were aware that you weren't the only one who ever noticed that.

The tall brunette you’d caught eyeing Matt all night finally appeared just over his shoulder and you released a sigh, already knowing what was coming next. Matt always attracted attention from beautiful women wherever he went because he was handsome and charismatic and sweet. He was impossible to miss in a room full of people. Which was honestly true of Karen, Marci, and Foggy, too. They were all attractive, successful, and exceptionally well-spoken individuals with big personalities that you couldn’t help but be drawn to.

But not you. You stood out like a painting on a hotel wall wherever you went–common, bland, and not remotely out of the ordinary.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt,” the brunette began as she stopped beside the table. Her eyes landed on Matt as she flashed a stunning smile his way. “I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at you all night and I figured I'd finally just say hello.”

Matt turned in his chair towards the woman, a charming smile already prepared on his face for her. “Well I'm flattered,” he told her. “I only wish I could say the same about stealing glances at you in return all night, but well–”

Matt gestured at his red glasses as the woman laughed, the sound itself somehow even perfect and attractive. That dark feeling of jealousy and despair began knotting together, swirling in your gut and mixing with the beers you'd already downed. Movement across the table from you caught your attention and you glanced over, catching the sight of Karen playfully but discreetly rolling her eyes at you and Foggy. Foggy chuckled lightly in response, nodding a little. Your attention returned back to the condensation on your beer bottle, not interested in having a front row seat to watching another one of Matt's hook-ups pan out.

“Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” you overheard the brunette ask. “I mean, if I'm not interrupting?”

“I can assure you that you’re absolutely not interrupting anything,” Matt told her, already sliding his chair back and rising to his feet. “I think these three have endured my company long enough for this evening anyway, and it isn't often a woman offers to buy me a drink.”

Matt said a quick round of goodbyes to the three of you as that beautiful brunette’s perfect laugh trilled over the sound of the rock music playing on the bar’s speakers. You muttered something back half-heartedly, not even bothering to glance up from your beer. It wasn’t like he’d have noticed anyway.

“Well maybe it’s about that time,” Foggy said, pulling the sleeve of his dress shirt back to check the time on his watch. “Marci had appointments for cake tastings tomorrow morning and I do not want to miss out on that.”

Across the table, Karen raised her bottle up to her lips, downing the rest of her beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table. “I might see if Alex wants to stop over tonight, actually,” she told you both. “Since it’s Friday and I don’t need to show up at the office for once on a Saturday morning.”

As both of them began sliding their chairs back, gathering their things from the table, you remained seated. Fingers tapping against the beer bottle, you watched as a droplet of condensation raced another over the curve of the glass. Out of your peripheral, you caught the way both Foggy and Karen’s movements slowed, the two of them exchanging an uncertain look with each other. Then you heard the way Karen said your name softly in question. Eyes shifting upwards, you focused on her on the other side of the table.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You’ve been oddly quiet all night.”

You forced a tired smile onto your face, nodding as you continued to rest your chin in your hand. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Just going to finish my drink before I leave, I think. Been a rough week at work and I just need to relax a little.”

“Do you…want us to stay?” Foggy asked.

You shook your head, releasing the bottle from your grip long enough to wave the pair of them off. “I’m fine drinking by myself, don’t worry about me,” you told him. “Go on. You both have someone to get back to tonight anyway, I’ll be alright.”

Karen hesitated beside the table, her concerned eyes landing back on Foggy still standing next to you. It looked like they were having a silent conversation with each other, but the thought of them staying here to keep you company when you knew there was somewhere they’d rather be–some one who’d they’d rather be with–only made that uncomfortable and sickening feeling of jealousy in your gut worse.

Forcing that smile back on your face, you sat upright in your chair, ignoring the way the bar around you briefly spun in your vision from the beers you'd drank. Attempting to play the part of being just fine, you hoped that neither of them could see the truth behind the mask you’d thrown on. You just wanted to sulk back for a few minutes and finish your beer while you unhealthily forced yourself to acknowledge the fact that Matt looked far better next to a woman like the one he was currently laughing with at the bar than someone like you. Then you’d go home, throw on your stained and worn pajamas that weren’t remotely sexy, and probably watch a bit of mindless television before going to bed. Alone. Like every other night.

“Alright, well…hopefully you enjoy your drink,” Karen replied hesitantly, still looking uncertain.

“Make sure you call for a ride, too,” Foggy said, pointing a finger at the window beside you. “Still raining cats and dogs out there. You don’t want to step in a poodle–I mean, puddle–on your way home.”

You laughed lightly at his joke, though not as much as you would’ve done any other night. Exchanging goodbyes with both of them afterwards, you sighed in relief when they finally turned and headed towards the exit. Slumping back down in your seat, you focused on the window to your left as you drew your bottle of beer back up to your lips, watching as the rain continued to come down hard.

Maybe Melissa at work was right. Maybe it was time you tried downloading one of those stupid dating apps, even though the thought of weeding out so many assholes who just wanted sex was the last thing you wanted to do. But maybe it would beat being alone all the time. It wasn’t like you were having any luck trying to meet someone the old fashioned way–in person.

Taking another drink from your beer, your attention returned to Matt's back as he sat at the bar beside the attractive woman. Drinking down a few deep gulps, you wondered what it would be like to ever have his undivided attention like that. To have him throw jokes your way because he was trying to win you over, not because you were just one of his friends. To have his hand linger on your thigh while he spoke to you because he wanted you and he wanted you to know that. Or to have him lean in towards your ear and whisper literally anything to you.

Swallowing your beer down, you tore your eyes away from the sight of Matt at the bar. He'd never once flirted with you like that, the thought only increasing the lingering pain of jealousy now spreading to your chest, feeling like it was sucking your heart into a blackhole of nothingness. You just weren't good enough were you?

Ducking your head, you tried to hide the emotion on your face even if the only person left at this bar to notice and comment would be Josie herself. Still, you'd rather not be asked to explain why you looked quite so miserable. But it hurt to realize that every single one of your friends had someone else to go home to tonight, and here you were drinking alone. Going home to an empty apartment after.

Figuring it was time you just downed the rest of your drink and headed home, you grabbed your beer and quickly drained the rest of its contents. Maybe being drenched in the summer rain on your walk back home would make you feel something tonight besides the growing ache of loneliness.

Setting the finished bottle of beer back onto the table, you clumsily pushed your chair back. Rising to your feet, you nearly lost your balance when you slid out of the chair. Your hands darted out, grabbing onto the table to steady yourself for a moment. Maybe you'd drank those beers back faster than you'd realized, clearly a little more buzzed than you'd expected.

“Not a big deal,” you mumbled to yourself, maneuvering around the chair, “I can still manage to walk back inebriated in the rain.”

Slipping your purse from off the back of the chair, you tossed the strap over your head and readjusted it on yourself. Then you pushed the chair forward so as not to trip over it before turning.

Immediately you stopped when you saw you weren't alone, a surprised gasp coming from you. You would’ve stumbled backwards if it hadn't been for your hand that flew out, grabbing onto the back of the chair you'd just pushed in. Matt was standing at the edge of the table, his cane unfolded and in both of his hands.

“Hey,” he said, his attention clearly fixed on you. “Josie said you were still here by yourself.”

Brows knitting together in confusion at him suddenly appearing over here when he had just been at the bar, you glanced back over to where you'd last seen him. The brunette he'd been talking to had disappeared entirely, no longer sitting on the bar stool.

“Yeah, I was just…finishing my drink,” you replied, still scanning the bar for the woman. “Weren't you with someone just a minute ago?”

“Well I was,” he answered, “until Josie pointed out how you were sitting here all by yourself after Fog and Karen had already gone home. Had me worried. Are you doing alright?”

Your gaze returned back to him, taking in the look of concern etched across his handsome face. The same look Karen and Foggy had shared tonight.

“I'm fine,” you said, repeating the same lie.

Matt's head tilted curiously to the side, a mannerism of his that you always found adorable. Except for right now, because it felt like he was analyzing what you'd said far more closely than your other friends had.

“If you're heading out, I can call you a car,” Matt suggested. “I can even wait with you if you'd like.”

You shook your head, beginning to make your way past him. “I'm fine, Matt,” you told him. “I was just going to walk back.”

“In the rain?” he asked. “I might be blind but I'm not deaf. It's pouring outside. And you've had quite a few drinks tonight, let me just call you a car. You shouldn’t be walking home in that.”

“Maybe I want to take a walk in the rain,” you countered, coming to a stop beside him. “Something wrong with that? It's just rain.”

His brows drew up onto his forehead behind his glasses as he shifted on his feet. “You really want to walk almost two blocks in the pouring rain right now? Stumbling down the sidewalk alone?” he asked. “You sure about that?”

A frown settled onto your face. When he put it like that, no, you sort of didn't. But you also didn't feel like waiting to grab a cab, either. Especially if it meant waiting with Matt and being the cause of further ruining his evening.

“Alright, how about this,” he continued when you hadn’t answered. “You come back and stay at my place tonight. I think we can both manage a walk around the corner in the rain. I'll let you borrow something dry to sleep in and you can take the bed. That way I won't have to worry if you made it home alright and you can still have your walk in the rain.”

As his offer made its way past the alcoholic fog in your brain, your body stiffened. Had Matt really just invited you to stay the night at his place? Because he was worried about you getting home? And he'd walked away from what was clearly going to be an obvious hook-up? For you ?

You could feel your heart beating a little faster in your chest as all these things gradually began to register in your mind. Why would he do that? He’d never invited you to stay at his place before.

“I–” you began.

You could barely find the words to reply, your brain too muddled by the alcohol to think clearly. Was this just an invitation as a friend, or was it something more?

“Is that a yes?” he questioned. “Because it sounds like the rain has eased up a bit, now would be the perfect time to head out before it downpours again.”

Slowly you nodded, the ‘yes’ coming out of you before you even realized you’d agreed. Because could you really pass up the chance to stay over at Matt’s place? You knew you’d always be left wondering what might’ve happened if you didn’t go.

His hand extended out towards you, the movement drawing your gaze downwards. It hovered there in the space between both of your bodies, your eyes lingering on it.

“Should we go then?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached your hand out, slipping it with uncertainty into his. But when his fingers curled around your hand in return, you realized that’s what he’d been silently asking. For you to hold his hand as you walked back with him in the rain.

“Probably will make it easier to keep either of us from tripping,” he told you, turning the pair of you around in the bar until you were both facing the exit. “Though I suppose now if one of us falls down, we both do.”

His head turned towards you, a cheeky grin on his mouth directed solely at you. You could feel the way your heart skipped in your chest at the sight, the cold, miserable feeling that you’d been experiencing all night easing its way out of you just a little.

“So, do you care to lead the way or…?”

Snapping out of your daze staring at him–something you were grateful he couldn’t see–you quickly nodded. “Right, sorry,” you muttered, beginning to lead the pair of you towards the door.

The moment you’d led the pair of you out of Josie’s and out from beneath the little overhang at the entrance, the warm rain had already begun to soak your hair and your clothes. It had felt good though, especially with Matt’s warm, calloused hand wrapped around yours. As you sidestepped a puddle, you found yourself surprised at the unexpected turn that your evening had taken. Though there was still something on your mind and your inebriated brain just couldn’t resist finding out the answer as the pair of you neared the corner of the block.

“So…how much did I ruin your night tonight?” you asked Matt cautiously.

He glanced over his shoulder towards you, his cane tapping along the sidewalk and occasionally splashing up water each time it hit a puddle. Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth as you began nervously gnawing on it, afraid of his answer.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” he replied easily. “Though I’ve been a bit worried about you. You’ve been quieter more than usual tonight. Is something on your mind?”

Yeah, you , you thought.

But of course, you couldn’t say that aloud.

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to the pavement ahead of you. “Just feeling a little down on myself, I guess,” you muttered.

Hearing the words aloud had you cringing as you walked. You hadn't exactly meant to be honest and tell him that.

“Feeling down on yourself about what, exactly?” he asked.

The pair of you rounded the corner, your blouse already drenched and sticking to your skin. Glancing up at Matt from beneath your lashes beside you, you couldn't help but notice the way his dress shirt was soaked and clinging to his muscular torso. It was physically painful how attractive he was.

“It's stupid,” you mumbled, focusing back down on the pavement.

Matt's hand squeezed yours, your heart practically slamming into your ribcage in shock at the gesture. You hoped he didn't notice the way your palm was gradually beginning to dampen with nervous sweat.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” he urged. “You know I won't judge you.”

The pair of you were quickly approaching Matt's apartment building as his words hung in the air between you. It was true though, in all your time knowing Matt he'd never once been mean to you. Never once had he made you feel bad about yourself. If anything he'd always been sweet and supportive, which only made you like him that much more. You sighed, and then suddenly you felt your drunk thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than you could stop them.

“I feel like I'm not good enough,” you confessed, the words spewing from you. “I haven't had a date in a long time. And then there's Marci and Fog who're getting married soon–and that's great. They're perfect for each other. And Karen, well, she might usually have poor luck with men, but she gets dates left and right. And she's gorgeous and smart so I get it. And then you–” you continued, wincing at the memory of him next to that brunette at Josie’s, his hand on her thigh, “–you could have a new fling for every night of the week in this damn city. But me?” You roughly shook your head, a tear managing to slip out of your eye and camouflaging itself with the drops of rain on your cheeks. “No one looks twice at me. I'm not special and I'm certainly not Karen or Marci. I don't even remember the last time a guy showed up to my place with flowers. It's been a long time since someone actually asked me on a date. And–”

You stopped short, your brain finally catching up and realizing all the things you'd just said aloud. You sucked in a breath as the wave of embarrassment hit you, your mouth promptly closing. How could you have possibly just admitted all that to Matt of all people?

“You know that's not true, right?” Matt said gently, his hand once again squeezing yours. “I'm sure plenty of guys have given you second or third looks. You're an incredibly smart and talented woman and you're being far too hard on yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes as heat burned at your cheeks. But at the sound of your disbelief, Matt's hand gave a sharp pull on yours, drawing you both to a stop in front of his building.

“Hey,” he said, tugging your hand and pulling you towards himself. “You should stop thinking about yourself like that. Stop being so critical of yourself. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Hearing his kind words, you couldn't bear to look him in the face. Feeling awkward, your gaze fixed down on your wet dress flats. “Easy for you to say,” you muttered, the alcohol once more loosening your tongue, “because you're successful and don't remotely have an issue attracting the opposite sex. It's not like that for the rest of us.”

Matt said your name firmly, the tone of his voice practically commanding you to focus back on him. His expression was serious despite the red glasses he wore obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to see the entirety of his face. His hair was soaked and clinging to his head from the rain, a few droplets streaming down his handsome face as he fixed his attention solely on you. Your hands instantly began to grow clammier under his undivided attention and you hoped he thought it was just from the rain.

“You're an amazing person and some lucky guy is going to come and sweep you off your feet,” he told you. “You'll find him, I can assure you of that.”

As you gazed back at him on the sidewalk, the rain still falling over the pair of you, your buzzed brain tried to understand if there was something else hidden in Matt's words, some other thing that he was trying to tell you. Because just like he'd never invited you to stay at his place, he'd never said anything like that to you before. He'd certainly never looked at you like he currently was before, either.

“Please try to be kinder to yourself,” Matt nearly begged. “Okay?”

Unsure what to make of his behavior tonight, you nodded slightly. “Okay,” you agreed quietly.

He smiled back at you, the sight nearly knocking you off your feet. It was quickly becoming far too difficult to just stand here trying to look at him as only a friend. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth from blurting out how you felt with that stunning smile on his perfect mouth. Thankfully he continued on towards the entrance of his building, breaking you from your thoughts and leading you into the small lobby and over towards the elevators.

The entire way up to Matt's apartment had been silent after that. You were too busy trying to analyze everything he had been doing and saying tonight to even remotely think of conversation. Because it was supposed to have been that pretty woman at the bar coming up to his apartment tonight, not you. Yet here you were, still holding Matt's hand as he led you down the hallway to his place.

And while this certainly wasn't the first time you'd been here before, it was the first time you'd been here alone at night with him. The thought of staying here overnight in his bed still had your insides buzzing along with the beer you'd downed this evening.

Was there something more you were missing? Every step closer to his apartment had you feeling like there was.

Matt eventually pulled you to a stop in front of his door, fishing his keys from out of his dress pant pockets. You watched in silence as he unlocked the door, your nerves only growing as you stood there.

“You can come on in,” Matt told you, swinging his door open and gesturing for you to step inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly stepped forward and made your way past Matt into the apartment. Your shoulder gently and accidentally brushed against his damp chest as you tried to squeeze past him. Immediately you wrapped your arms over your chest, feeling your heart beat a little harder from the brief touch. His chest was so incredibly solid, you'd never understood how he was so in shape.

Glancing down as you paused in his entryway, you noticed the damp patch you were making on his floor as he shut and locked the door behind you.

“I'm sorry, I'm dripping water everywhere,” you told Matt. “Do you have a towel or something?”

“How about I grab some dry clothes for you to change into,” he replied, slipping out of his dress shoes. “Then we can worry about the mess we're making.”

As he made his way down the short entryway, you stood awkwardly in place, arms still wrapped around yourself. When Matt reached the end of the little hall, he paused, glancing back at you with a charming smile on his face.

“It's just water, it's fine,” he assured you. “You can come in.”

Slowly you began to make your way into his apartment, cautiously making your way over to the side of his leather couch. Matt once again assured you he would grab some dry clothes for you to change into before disappearing into his bedroom, leaving you alone.

The lights were off in his apartment, but truthfully you didn't even need them. Looking out the window to your right, your eyes landed on the eyesore of a billboard just across the street. It had been awhile since you'd been here at night with your friends and you'd forgotten just how bright it was. Currently it was advertising a nearby hospital, the blue light shining through Matt's windows and coating the room in a navy glow. In a way it was beautiful, but you could absolutely understand why he’d gotten such a great deal on the place.

“Hopefully these will work,” Matt said.

Tearing your eyes away from the window, your attention returned to Matt as he was leaving his bedroom. But your breath immediately caught in your throat at the unexpected sight of him sauntering his way towards you with some neatly folded clothes in his hands. It felt like you suddenly couldn't breathe as you watched each of his casual steps towards you.

He'd taken his damp shirt off and removed his glasses when he'd gone into his bedroom to grab you some clothes. The sight of which had left you damn near speechless because you'd never seen him shirtless before. It was impossible not to just blankly stare at the sight, taking in all of the defined muscle along his chest along with the girth of his muscular arms. You curiously noted the scars on his chest, but you were too busy trying to control your now violently beating heart at the view before you to think much more of them.

Matthew Murdock looked far too good to actually exist in real life.

But why hadn't he thrown a shirt on before he'd come out to hand you the clothes? It would’ve taken him barely any time to do so. Had it been intentional that he'd done that? Was it…possible that Matt might’ve been trying to make some sort of move on you tonight? Was that why he’d invited you back here this evening instead of the other woman at the bar?

He stopped just before you, a smile on his face as his eyes fixed somewhere along your chest. You always loved when he took his glasses off around you, but unfortunately it wasn't often. He always seemed far more vulnerable, which was probably why it was a rare sight. But he’d removed them now, and as you watched him, you noticed the faintest twitch to the corner of his eyes. You wondered what that was about as he extended the clothes in his hands out towards you.

“Here,” he said softly. “Hopefully they're comfortable, but if not, I can always get you a towel to dry off. Though really you can sleep however you're comfortable.” His smile turned cheeky–a smile he didn’t often flash your way–as the corners of his eyes creased. “Not like I can see anything anyway.”

Your fingers tightened around your damp blouse at the implication of his words. Had he just said he didn't care if you slept in nothing? In his bed?

Swallowing hard, your eyes dropped down and focused on the shirt and sweatpants that were neatly folded in his outstretched hands. His clothes. He was offering you his clothes to sleep in. Nervously you unwrapped your arms from over your chest as you took a step towards him, your trembling hands carefully reaching out and accepting the clothing from him.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Glancing up, you realized how close the pair of you were now standing to each other. Barely any distance was left between you two. Had he even managed to move closer or were you imagining that?

“Of course,” he whispered back.

He was still smiling down at you as you drew the clothes in towards your chest. His head had tilted ever so faintly to the side as you observed him, the heat of his body warming you in your damp clothes. Why hadn’t he moved? Why was he still standing so close?

A thought struck you as you stood there, your attention turning towards his lips. Was he…wanting to kiss you? No, that couldn’t be it.

…could it?

He had invited you back to his place after all. He’d walked you home with him in the rain hand in hand–which had been his idea. That had been far more intimate than anything the pair of you had ever done before. And now he was letting you stay the night in his bed, offering you his own clothes to change into. Saying such nice things about you. And he was just standing there, gazing down at you in nothing but a pair of damp dress pants because he’d removed his shirt without bothering to put on another one.

This had to all be intentional, right? He could’ve easily gone home with the brunette from the bar, but he chose you, didn’t he? Maybe what he’d been saying earlier outside the building in the rain had meant something more. Could he have been talking about himself being the guy to come along and sweep you off your feet? Had that been what he’d meant all along?

Hope instantly sparked in your chest at the thought. Everything seemed to make sense, everything seemed to point at the fact that Matt might possibly view you as more than just a friend. So was this your moment then? Your chance to tell Matt how you felt and to hear he felt the same in return? Because he was still just standing there, so close you could kiss him. Why else hadn’t he moved?

Without even thinking–most likely due to the alcohol in your system–you leaned forward and boldly closed the rest of the distance between your mouths. It was a hesitant kiss, your lips ever so gently pressing against Matt’s in an uncertain connection. You couldn’t believe how incredibly soft his were, how warm they felt against your own. Your stomach began somersaulting inside of you because you were kissing Matt. It was everything you’d wanted for almost a year now.

Until he gently but abruptly pulled away from you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you drew back from him, taking in the look of utter confusion on Matt’s face. Panic immediately set in, your hands tightening around the bundle of clothing in your hands.

“What–what are you doing?” he asked.

“I–I thought–” you stammered, struggling to form a sentence. “Was that–is this not…?”

Matt’s head only tilted further to the side, his dark brows furrowing further together on his forehead until there was a deep crease between them. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your nerves at this point, but you felt on the verge of vomiting now.

What the hell had you just done?

“Did you think I was inviting you here to sleep with you?” he asked in disbelief. He said your name, the sound like a stab to your chest as he shook his head. “I had no intention of that. You’re drunk and you’re my friend. I wanted to make sure you got to somewhere safe tonight. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. That’s not–that’s not what I was doing.”

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, taking a step back from him. “Oh my God, I thought that–that you…”

Your words trailed off, eyes growing wide as the urge to bolt quickly took over you. You could feel the sting of tears burning in your eyes already, absolutely mortified at what you’d done and how you’d wildly misread the entire situation. How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, vision blurring from the tears welling up in your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have–that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had too much to drink and–and I wasn’t thinking,” you blabbered on. “I absolutely misread things, I just thought that–that maybe you liked me, too and–”

Matt said your name softly, as if he was trying to calm a panicked animal. “You’re my friend,” he told you. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at all this evening but–”

You practically threw the bundle of clothes back at Matt’s bare chest. His hands flew up, somehow catching them, but the gesture had cut him clean off. That spark of hope that had formed in your chest moments ago quickly sizzled out. A roiling, churning instead grew in your stomach, making you certain that you’d throw up soon if you didn’t get the hell out of here.

“I need to go,” you blurted.

Turning abruptly, you hurried through Matt’s living room and down the entryway hall. Behind you, you heard him calling your name, but you didn’t dare stop. You couldn’t face him, not after what you’d just idiotically done. Especially not now as the tears were finally falling down your cheeks in hot spurts, embarrassment and rejection both burning inside of you. You just needed to get out of here, needed to get away from this entire horrible situation. You couldn’t believe you’d just gone and kissed him like that.

Your frantic hands fumbled with the lock on his door, but you managed to undo it and wrench it open in a rush. Continuing to ignore him calling after you, you pulled the door shut after yourself before you darted across the hall and straight to the door leading to the stairwell. Throwing it open, you began racing down the stairs as fast as you could, a hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle your pathetic sobs. Your heart slammed away against your ribcage as the tears began to fall faster down your cheeks. As you descended the stairs, your vision blurred from tears and the alcohol you'd drank, causing you to stumble a few times on your way all the way down to the main floor.

Ignoring the looks from the few people you sprinted past in the lobby, you headed straight towards the building’s exit. Forcefully pushing the doors open, you made your way back out onto the sidewalk and into the rain. A choked sob slipped past your fingers as you continued to hurry down the pavement and back towards your own apartment, your flats quickly becoming soaked as you stepped through a few puddles, splashing water up onto your dress pants.

You’d just gone and kissed Matt like an absolute idiot. Of course he’d told you that he only saw you as a friend. Why would Matt ever be interested in someone like you? Someone awkward and average, nothing special.

You’d absolutely ruined that friendship now, too. There was no way in hell you could ever face him again. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive Marci’s wedding months from now. Maybe if you were lucky you could try to ignore him all day. He’d probably be more than happy to do the same after tonight.

“ Why did I kiss him?” you lamented to yourself. “How stupid !”

Your tears continued to fall, mixing with the heavy rain drops pelting your cheeks as you rushed back to your place. All you wanted to do was get up to your apartment and crawl beneath the blankets in your bed and hide. You just wanted to forget this entire nightmare of an evening. There was no way to salvage what you’d done, to take it back.

You should have never gone out tonight.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader

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totalswag · 6 months

Text

bar fun — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you lovies for 700+ followers!! forever grateful for you guys and the support you give me. here's a little/not so little drew fic teheh.

summary going out in charleston with the cast after a long week of filming and enjoying your friday night with your friends.

requests open

warnings mentions of drinking, going to a bar, kissing, cussing, and drew being a sweet boyfriend.

"If you start to feel uncomfortable just let me know, baby" Drew whispered in your ear, placing his hand on your thigh and tapping it a few times as the car drew to a stop in front of the bar.

Turning back with a modest smile on your face, you say, "I will, don't worry," before kissing his cheek.

He smiles. Such a beautiful smile.

Drew's willingness to make you feel at ease is one of the many things you appreciate about him. No matter where you are, he wants you to be comfortable rather than uncomfortable.

After a hard week of filming season four of Outer Banks, the cast decided to spend the evening at one of their favorite bars in Charleston and unwind. You're not a member of the cast, but you tag along whenever there’s an outing.

Downtown was incredibly busy tonight, so the cast will be spotted by many. The plan was to keep close together in case something happened. Security informed Chase that they would have security inside to keep an eye on everyone.

"I can't wait to have a drink," Carlacia groans as she steps out of the SUV and fixes her hair.

"I feel you on that one," Maddie agrees.

Drew pushed you in front of him as he walked through the crowded bar, grabbing your waist with both hands. He made sure to keep you near to him since he didn't want you to leave his sight or be pushed back at random.

Second outing with my very well known boyfriend and I’ma shit my pants.

The moment you walked inside the bar, everyone turned their heads. This is nothing new. When fans greeted them or spoke with excitement, everyone smiled and waved in response which made fans even more excited.

Once you guys got your drinks, you guys started talking about various topics. The guys were in their own little group and girls were in theirs.

You and the girls were talking about going on a week-long girls' getaway this summer. Carlacia brought it up first a few days ago; she always has great ideas.

"I think it would be a lot of fun, and we'll be laying by the beach," Carlacia says, moving her hands in ocean wave motions that make the rest of the girls giggle.

After talking about the girls trip, Madison breaks the silence asking you about going out with Drew in public.

"So, Y/N, how does it feel being in your second outing with Drew?" Madison asked as she swirled her straw in her drink.

“Ooo good question,” Carlacia nudges Madison’s arm softly.

"It's still nerve-racking, but I think the more we go out as a couple, the less nervous I'll be," you explain to your friends, then look in Drew's way; he's chuckling at something JD said.

Drew and you have been together for three months, and the relationship is still fresh. He’s everything you ever dreamed of. The first time you went out as a couple was last month in Los Angeles, to one of your favorite cafes. This is your second outing together.

"I mean, that's completely understandable, Mariah and I were in the same boat when we first started dating," Madison says with a reassuring smile.

“Plus, you two make each other very happy and we all see it,” Maddie nudges in with complete honesty in her voice.

Hearing other people mention how Drew and you make each other happy undoubtedly makes your heart flutter with joy.

"Aw thank you, we always tell each other that we're each others person and the timing of us meeting was perfect" you continue to say.

After forty minutes, you've had two beers and are enjoying your time with your boyfriend and friends. Everyone was having a wonderful time. Fans came over and took pictures with the cast and a few of them took some with you too.

Conversations regarding filming were brought up, but the cast simply said what they were expected to say because Maddie had informed everyone before arriving at the bar that she would not be announcing the release date for season four.

We all know how that went the first time.

Drew's tall body stood behind you, one hand around your waist and the other holding a drink; your back rested on his chest, drink in hand. Every now and again, you'd sway to the music and chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” he asks you softly, only for you to hear.

You raise your free hand to his neck, bringing him down so you can whisper in his ear, "feeling quite great, you?" The sensation of his breath on your skin sent shivers down your spine.

"That makes me feel better, and if you're feeling great, I'm feeling great," he chuckles in your neck before giving you soft kisses, which caused you to giggle in response, so he kept doing it.

The feeling of phones in your direction, capturing the sweet moment between you and Drew.

As Drew pulls away, a bunch of fans appear in front of him, beaming with joy. Everyone then hugs the girls and asks how they are doing. They even requested to give you a hug, which surprised you because this never happens. It felt nice.

"Y/N right?" A fan asks with a smile, putting out her phone to take a picture with you. She wanted to make sure she got your name right, so she asked in this way.

"Yes, that is me. Would you like a picture? You inquire as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. That’s the first thing you asked because typically fans come up asking for pictures.

She quickly nods, smiling, then pulls her phone out. You take a couple pictures together and start a conversation.

While having a great talk, you discovered that her mom and your aunt are really close friends. She was even more thrilled to hear about it. A few of her friends joined the chat, and they were all quite nice to you.

Drew appeared behind you, causing the girls to glance up in surprise that Drew Starkey was actually standing in front of them. Drew grinned, waved, and hugged them.

“How are you girls doing? Being safe I assume?” He asks with honesty, wanting to make sure they’re making good choices.

They answered with the same response.

"Oh get this, Taylor," you add, pointing to her so Drew understands who you're talking about, "mom is best friends with my aunt," chuckling with delight. Drew's jaw fell in surprise.

Eventually, the group of girls returned to their original spot, allowing you to enjoy the remainder of the night. They were really respectful throughout the entire process.

You spent the remainder of the night close to Drew's embrace, drinking more with friends before returning to your apartments for a nice night's sleep.

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#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x you #drew fic #drew being the best boyfriend ever!#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒

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toomuchracket · 2 months

Text

summer wine (dad!matty x reader smut)

the penultimate tmr summer75 fic. first date night since baba 1. fluffy as hell but also sexy. enjoy <3

“will you get a bloody move on? you're going to be late!”

“relax, mum,” you shout back, capping your lipstick and stomping out of the bathroom. as you catch sight of her at the bottom of the stairs, you glare at her. “stop trying to kick me out of my own house. and stop swearing in front of your granddaughter!”

you can hear matty laugh from the living room, while your mum rolls her eyes. “it's hardly a swear word, bloody. ‘specially not where we're all from.”

“well, yeah, but we're not in manchester right now, are we?”

“could be,” she makes a pouty face, the same one you inherited and the same one dylan will likely get too. “if the two of you would move back home, let me and denise see our granddaughter more often.”

matty wanders through, dylan babbling away in his arms. he nudges your mum. “that listing you sent the other day was nice.”

“wasn't it? can just see dyl running about in that garden.”

“yeah, me too. and the-”

“hang on a minute,” you hold your index finger up, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation with the other hand. “you've been discussing houses for sale in manchester? without me?”

they nod, and you grit your teeth at their lack of shame, before nodding at your mum. “always knew you loved him more than me.”

she rolls her eyes again, while your husband bites back a smile. “oh, here we go again, this old chestnut…”

“no, it's true,” you sigh, overexaggerated, scooping your baby from matty's arms and cuddling her into you (and doing your best not to drop the bit and smile at her happy coos). “you're the only one who cares about me, dyl.”

matty wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and looking down at the baby. “mummy's telling fibs, munchkin, we all care about her very much. and i think she looks beautiful.”

“sap,” you lean round to peck him. “thank you, though. you've scrubbed up well tonight too.”

“yeah, you both look good,” your mum smiles. “the three of you, i should say - dyl's showing you up, though, if i'm honest.”

you and matty laugh, and you lift your daughter to kiss all over her little face; the little happy noises she lets out are possibly the best thing you've ever heard. “my perfect girl. you're gonna have so much fun with gran tonight, munchkin!” hugging her properly, you do your best to keep a lid on the sudden melancholy you feel about leaving her. “be back first thing tomorrow, i promise.”

“and if you need us tonight, gran'll tell us, and we'll come home,” matty adds, taking the baby to give her his own cuddle - he holds her up so their faces are level, and speaks again. “and i love you, but please try not to do that. mummy's done so much for you and i lately, and she deserves a night off, yeah?” he kisses her little nose, smiling at the way she scrunches it up the same way you do. “see you in the morning, my darling.”

your mum beams, taking dylan from matty and kissing his cheek, then yours. “oh, we’ll be fine. now go! have a good night!”

you stroke your baby's head a final time, and squeeze your mum's hand before grabbing matty's. “love you both. bye!”

matty follows suit, bidding your family goodbye before following you out to the car; he speeds ahead to open the passenger door for you, and you giggle. “how chivalrous of you.”

“duh,” he gets into the driver's seat, leaning over to kiss you sweetly before starting the car. “first date night as mum and dad. s'a big deal, babe - tonight is going to be perfect.”

he isn't wrong, actually. and you know you and matty could have a good time together in any circumstances, but tonight's are particularly sweet - dinner in the italian small plates place you've loved since it opened a few years ago, then a drive to get some ice cream and drop the car near where you're staying tonight, and finally a wander in the evening sunshine to a new wine bar a girl at work recommended. there aren't any tables left indoors when you arrive, so you go al fresco; it's dreamy, you think, sitting in the fresh air with the love of your life, with a bottle of red and a cigarette or two each, the setting sun warming your skin and glinting off the wedding rings on you and matty's hands.

he kisses yours, looking - as he always has, really - adoringly at you with the big brown eyes you're actually disappointed your daughter didn't inherit. “have i already told you that you're beautiful?”

“seven times and counting,” your cheeks burn, and you busy yourself with intertwining his and your fingers as a distraction. “you've got baby brain, my love.”

“no, i think you're just that beautiful that i have to keep saying it,” matty smiles. “y'having a good night?”

“the best. though it feels a bit weird without dyl, to be honest.”

“yeah,” he laughs. “i keep forgetting that it's just you and i tonight.”

you stare at him, blinking. his brow furrows. “what?”

“just waiting for you to finish the lyric, s'all.”

“oh, for fuck's sake,” your husband shakes his head, doing his best to keep the smile from his face while he takes a drink of wine. “you little groupie, clocking the lyric before i did.”

you shrug, taking a sip from your own glass. “i'm extra-sensitive to that song, babe. i remember when you wrote it, one of the nights you stayed at uni with me,” the memory makes you smile. “we were drinking red wine that night, too. wasn't as nice as this one, though.”

matty smiles, one of those slow, sweet smiles that end up taking over his whole face; your heart flutters when he kisses your hand again. “used to dream about nights like this back in those days, you know? me, you, married, on a date. dreamt up dyl back then too and all.”

“you had the baby dream?”

“yeah,” his cheeks go pink. god, you love him. “happened more often when we moved into the flat, but the first time i had it was in your room at uni. and it was dylan i dreamed of, exactly as she was born - hair like mine, face like yours, asleep in my arms while you made a cuppa and spoke to me,” matty looks up at you, eyes slightly teary. “it was always going to be you, darling. you, and me, and her. m'sorry that it took so long for us to end up there - here, i should say.”

“oh, matty,” you kiss his hand, smiling when he caresses your cheek. “i'm not sorry it took the time it did, you know - we got to a good place within ourselves and our relationship before we had our girl, and she's going to grow up in the best possible circumstances because we did, yeah? besides,” you wink. “i always knew you'd end up putting a ring on my finger. i wasn't worried about the timings.”

your husband laughs, wiping his eyes before leaning in to kiss you softly; as always, you get butterflies when he does. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you down your glass of wine as classily as you can, and smile at him. “and i would really love to show you how much, if you'd be up for that.”

“always, darling.”

***

“jesus christ, it's like stepping back in time,” you giggle deliriously as you cross the threshold to the old flat, tapping the guitar head key-holder before turning back to matty. “except now you've got grey hair, and i've got stretchmarks.”

he grins, pulling you close. “i love your stretchmarks.”

“and i find the grey really, really sexy,” you weave your hands into his hair, pressing your lips against his and moaning when his hands squeeze your arse. matty takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, sending heat flooding through your veins and into your underwear - after a minute, you pull back to breathe, beaming at the familiar manic glint of arousal in his eyes. “fuck, i've missed this… take me to bed, please?”

“whatever my sweet girl wants,” matty wraps your legs around his waist and kisses you again, and you're briefly aware of being carried somewhere before you're gently plopped on a bed. he smiles at you, and looks around your old bedroom. “wasn't even sure where we were gonna end up, to be honest, darling - that was muscle memory, that.”

you look around the room, noting the absence of dust on the surfaces and the fresh smell of the bedding before smirking at your husband. “nah, you planned this, i know it.”

his jaw falls open. “i did not.”

“no?” you tilt your head. “you mean you didn't take the opportunity to make my old bedroom all neat for us to shag in, as soon as i suggested we go to a bar in east for date night?”

he smirks. “must be coincidence.”

“hmm,” so quickly matty can't react, you reach into the bedside drawer, laughing when you pull out exactly what you expected to find - a fresh box of condoms. “oh, you sappy little git, matthew.”

“i-” matty's face is beet red; it falls into an expression of slight defeat when you wave the box at him. “alright, fine, i admit it - i might've come in here a couple of days ago to set up.”

you hum, lying back down on the pillows and busying yourself with pulling strings of condoms from the box. matty lurks sheepishly at the bottom of the bed; when he clears his throat, you look up at him, and grin. “are you waiting for me to say the line? you are, aren't you?”

“no,” comes the response, in a voice that suggests otherwise.

“you're so weird, baby,” you sigh, before smiling knowingly at him. “but i think you should get over here, healy - i want to kiss you,” you giggle when he jumps onto the bed, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear. “and fuck you. well… you to fuck me, but you know what i mean.”

“‘course i do,” his lips find your neck, and you sigh in bliss. “needy girl.”

bliss ruined. you glare at him. “you prepped all those condoms, and i'm the needy one?”

“i'm just keeping up with demand, sweetheart,” matty raises his hands in mock surrender, and then brings them to your tits. “i know what my wife needs.”

fuck.

you beam, breathing heavily as you murmur. “say it again.”

he hums, kissing slowly up your neck to whisper in your ear. “i know what my wife needs.”

the heat in your body becomes too much to bear; your hands fly to the buttons of matty's shirt, deftly undoing them as you lean blindly up to kiss him. he reciprocates eagerly, taking your top lip between his teeth while his hands busy themselves with dragging your dress down by the straps. you work quickly, efficiently, the years of practice put in in this very room ensuring you both end up in your underwear in seconds flat, lips connected and only breaking apart when breathing becomes an absolute necessity.

it's at this moment that matty catches sight of your new lingerie for the first time, lust-black eyes widening (and clothed dick hardening) as he drinks in your body, wrapped in a babydoll made of dark red mesh. his hands slide softly up your thighs, which part to give him a look at the matching panties; the moan he lets out is enough to soak them. “oh, baby.”

“you like it?” suddenly shy, goosebumps fluttering across your skin at the realisation that this is the first time you've been quite so exposed since having the baby, your voice goes small. “i look… alright?”

it's testament to how well matty knows you that he immediately leans forward to stroke your face reassuringly, resting his forehead against yours so tenderly you could cry. “you look perfect, my darling - so, so beautiful.”

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “really?”

“yes, angel,” the kiss that follows his words is sweet, but still passionate enough to dispel all worry from your mind. “d'you wanna keep your dress thing on? we'll do whatever's most comfortable.”

“no, take it off, please - just lift it, babe,” you smile as matty fumbles with the lingerie, giggling along with him as he successfully manages to pull it over your head. “hi.”

“hi,” comes the breathy reply, followed by a kiss between your boobs. when you let out a little moan, matty presses kisses all over your chest, trailing them up across your neck to your lips. “have i told you how fucking sexy i think you are?”

you giggle. “high praise, that, coming from the world's hottest dad.”

“fuck yeah,” he sits back on his heels, eyes trailing up and down your body, mouth parting slightly in the way it always does when he's really, really turned on. “christ, you've no idea how much i want you.”

“yeah, i do,” you lightly drag your nails down your husband's chest and stomach, hooking them into the waistband of his boxers. “s'been too long, baby. need you inside me again.”

“shit. take your panties off for me, darling… yeah, just like that,” matty's eyes don't leave your soaked cunt at all as he takes his own underwear off; your gaze fixates on his dick, excitement fizzing as you watch him reach for a condom and roll it on, smile splitting your face as he settles himself above you. “fuck, i'm a little bit nervous.”

“why, darling?” you take his face in your hands, thumbs gently rubbing his cheekbones. “s'just me, yeah? me and you in our bed. done it a thousand times before.”

matty smirks. there he is. “think we can do another thousand tonight?”

you smirk to match. “we can try.”

“oh, i love you,” he kisses you again, slowly running his dick along your core. “you ready, darling?”

“yeah. love you,” you smile into the kiss, moaning softly in harmony with matty as he slowly slides home. “fuck, you feel good.”

“not as good as you,” comes the mumbled reply, matty's eyes rolling back into his head as he tentatively begins thrusting into you. “missed this.”

you giggle breathily, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. “s'only been a couple of months, baby, we've gone longer without fucking before.”

“yeah, but - oh, fuck, do that again,” matty gasps into your neck as you dig your nails into his back, kissing across your face so he can smile at you, and blush as you wink. “you're so fucking hot.”

you roll your eyes. “shut up.”

“no, i'm serious,” he sits back on his heels, gently lifting your legs onto his shoulders so he can see you a bit better while he fucks you; you're not complaining about the new angle, either. “i have literally never found you sexier than you are right now. ever,” he kisses your calf muscle. “which is why not being allowed to fuck you until now has fucking killed me.”

there isn't even a slither of insincerity in his voice, or on that gorgeous face of his. yours burns, still unused to your husband's compliments after all this time, and your hands gently skim the outline of your chest and hips. “you've been looking delicious, lately, too.”

matty laughs. “delicious?”

“yeah,” you bite the tip of your index finger, sighing happily at the feeling of being fucked slowly. “practically on my knees every time i see you hold the baby, you know. and especially when you do it shirtless,” you let out a low whistle. “not to be crude, but… yeah, i'd take it anywhere you wanted.”

he throws his head back, cackling. “well, darling, you're doing just that,” he leans forward to kiss you, stretching your legs in the most gorgeous way. “d'you wanna try taking it a bit harder? up to you.”

“yeah,” you breathe into him. “fuck me, matty. please.”

“since you asked so nicely,” he pecks your lips, before slamming into you with a groan and repeating the motion, over and over and over. “jesus christ, baby.”

you can't speak, a mixture of pleasure haze and just sheer love for matty clouding your brain and closing your throat to everything but little moans and whines, those noises he loves so much; it's obvious from the way he smiles and speeds up when he hears them how much he loves them, and obvious from the way he kisses and the way his eyes sparkle how much he loves you. they've sparkled for you like that for the better part of fifteen years, and a sudden wave of some inexplicable emotion washes over you when you think about how long you and matty have loved each other, and now you've ended up here.

you don't realise you're crying until he slows down, face concerned, and wipes the tears from your lashline with his thumbs. “what is it, my darling?” his voice is soft, soothing, exactly the same as it is when he talks to your baby girl. “everything alright?”

nuzzling into his hand, you nod, sniffling. “i just really, really love you, matty.”

he smiles, eyes crinkling and filling up to match yours. “i love you. girl of my dreams, mother of my baby, love of my life.”

the two of you stay like that the rest of the night, matty fucking you slowly, deeply, tenderly, both of you trading sweet words and i love yous and kisses that feel like home. getting each other off isn't the priority anymore, dropped in favour of simply loving, but your orgasm is as intense as ever; maybe even more so, actually, limbs wrapping around matty and tears falling onto his skin as he gets you there and holds you through it with a “my girl, my beautiful, beautiful girl”, before burying his head in the crook of your neck as he spills into the condom with a whimper.

for the briefest of moments afterwards, there's silence in the room, the only sound your respective heavy breathing as you recover; it's broken, as always, by your husband, kissing your cheek before moving to pull out of you and pull off the condom. you giggle when he launches it with pinpoint accuracy into the bin in the corner of the room, moving to snuggle against his chest once he settles back onto the bed. “i think,” you begin, tracing the tattoo on his chest. “it's safe to say that you've still got it.”

he snorts. “d'you mean the sex, or my aim in chucking shit in that bin?”

“both,” you kiss over his heart, looking up at him adoringly. like you could look at him any other way. “that was really special, baby. thank you.”

he strokes your hair. “anything for you, my love,” his finger slides down your nose, booping the end, and he giggles when you scrunch your face up. “round two, in a minute? we still have all those condoms to get through.”

“in a minute, yeah,” you grin, climbing atop your husband and grinding down onto his lap. “but this time, i'm on top.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!matty #summer75 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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jinnie-ret · 1 year

Text

destined at the VMAs

stray kids x musician!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none.

word count: 1.7k

summary: a musician under the name CLOVER is starstruck when she meets her favourite group Stray Kids at the VMAs, only to find that they're big fans of her too

This imagine is written in first person under the name of an artist called CLOVER.

As voted for by you! Make sure follow to have a say in regular polls for what I'll post next!

Or if you have any ideas you want to see them you can send in asks!

Hope you enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Okay guys, I'm really excited right now because we have the one and only CLOVER, all the way from the UK and making her debut American television appearance here at the VMAs!" an interviewer for Entertainment Tonight introduced me to the camera whilst other celebrities arrived and walked the pink carpet.

"Hi!" I greeted her politely and waved at the camera. I felt so excited to be here at the VMAs, my first time in America and it was on such a well known awards show, I couldn't believe it. I hoped my fans liked my bold type of outfit too, a beautiful black gown with a daring slit up the side where it rested against my thigh.

"Welcome to the US, CLOVER! We're so happy to have you here, how are you finding it?" the interviewer asked me, holding the mic out.

"It's big. America is so much bigger than I expected it to be, especially compared to back home," I said with wide eyes, wearing a shocked expression on face which made the woman opposite me laugh.

"That's right, you've come all the way over here from England, right? How excited are you to perform here?" she asked me.

"I'm incredibly nervous, if I'm honest haha. There's so much talent here so I just hope that people will enjoy what I bring too," I smile, wiping my hands down on my dress awkwardly. I really hoped the camera didn't somehow pick up the sight of my sweaty palms.

"Well I've seen some of your performances before and let me just say, I'm a big fan myself!" she confessed, which made me heart feel warm.

"Wow thank you so much!" I blushed, hands clasped together now. I really couldn't stop fidgeting with them.

"I mean, you've been nominated for best new artist! That must feel amazing right?" she smiled at me.

"It really does, to be nominated for an award, let alone perform here is just beyond my imagination. Like Ice Spice, Peso Pluma, Pink Pantheress my UK sister is nominated too! It's crazy!" I exclaim, hoping I'd meet my fellow UK artist too, not realising that later on I'd meet a different honorary British artist.

"Speaking of, is there anyone else you're excited to see here today?" the interviewer leaned towards me, like she was ready for any gossip.

"Wow, pretty much everyone!" I laughed, "but I'd have to say Demi for sure! I'm excited to see them perform I've loved their music for years! Also Maneskin and there's Stray Kids and TXT too! I'm so excited for Stray Kids oh my god..." I ramble, waving my hands in the air as I talk excitedly, unable to hide my big smile.

"Stray Kids certainly seem to be stealing everyone's hearts this year, I spoke to them earlier, and... wow," the interviewer laughed with me, and it felt like having a conversation with a friend at that point.

"I don't blame you haha," I giggled.

"Well, thank you so much for chatting with us, CLOVER, we'll see you out there later tonight, best of luck!" she smiled at me before turning to the camera and ending the interview. I waved bye to her and the camera and walked round the corner, heading backstage with my manager and taking a deep breath in.

It all felt so surreal, I was sure I caught a glance of Taylor Swift and waved and smiled at her, shocked to have gotten the same actions returned and squealed, unable to help myself as I jumped around and bumped into someone behind me.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Oh my god sorry!"

We both apologised at the same time. And when I turned around to see who it was I thought I was going to spontaneously combust right there and then.

It was Felix of Stray Kids.

"Felix?!"

"CLOVER?!"

What. The. He knew who I was?

"Oh, you know Stray Kids?" he asked me shocked, an adorable expression on his face as he helped me rebalance myself, I was wearing heels after all.

"I should be asking you the same question, I've been listening to you guys for years!" I gushed, probably embarrassing myself a bit but Felix didn't seem to react to that, seeming to get excited himself.

"You have? Wow... Stray Kids are such huge fans of your music, we really love your songs," Felix happily explained to me, still holding onto my hands as he waved them excitedly.

"No way... that's insane!" I couldn't put everything I was thinking into words.

"Tell me about it," he laughed, pulling his hands away to scratch the back of his neck.

"Felix!" the other members walked over, not noticing me at first, which was lucky otherwise they would have seen me looking at them like they were ghosts.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Bang Chan patted his shoulders, speaking in Korean and then turned to see me, a shocked expression painting his face.

"Sorry I didn't mean to be keeping Felix," I then spoke back in Korean, some of the members seeming to jump back in shock at hearing their native language.

"Woah, CLOVER?! Wait, you speak Korean?!" Han bounced on his feet, beaming at me.

"Yeah my best friend is Korean so I ended up learning it, definitely helped when watching you guys. This is just like a dream, I can't tell you how amazing it is to meet you guys!" I felt myself getting almost hyper by seeing them in front of me.

"We could say the same to you! We're all big fans of you!" Changbin stepped up, whilst some of the other members stood back nervously.

"If I'm being honest I didn't believe Felix when he told me that," I shook my head in disbelief.

"Well believe it now," Seungmin laughed, seeming to feel more comfortable now.

"I'm so hyped to see you guys perform tonight! How are you feeling?" I asked them, feeling more confident now as the ice had been broken.

"I think we're nervous but we're going to do our best out there," Lee Know shyly admitted.

"We could do with some words of encouragement, could you say Stray Kids hwaiting?" Han asked cheekily.

"Han we've just met her, don't scare her away," Hyunjin did his iconic laugh.

"It's fine, it's fine haha. Stray Kids hwaiting!!!" I cheered for them and they all clapped for me after, making me blush and hide my face.

"Your Korean is really good," Jeongin commented.

"Thank you, well, like I said, it's all thanks to my friend. She's so cute, she'd cheer me on before every gig I used to do like, CLOVER hwaiting!!" I share, hoping they wouldn't find it weird how I'm rambling on.

"Hahaha, that's cute, is she a stay too?" Bang Chan asked hopefully.

"Oh, big time! She's the reason I got to know your music and watch your variety stuff too," I nod back at him. They all let out sounds of amazement.

"You watch our other stuff?" Changbin asked shocked.

"Yeah! I'm a big fan of SKZ Code!" I admit sheepishly.

"Wow that's a good friend you got there," Seungmin nods, smirking.

"She's the best, she's supported me through my music the whole time," I grin, thinking about my best friend. I wish she could have come to America with me but she was too busy.

"Are you planning on releasing any new music soon?" Felix asks me.

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret, I'm working on some right now!" I fake whisper to them, but it didn't really matter. I was speaking to them in Korean at this point so it wasn't very likely anyone backstage would expose the fact.

"You are? Wow I'm looking forward to it already, you have such a unique sound," Han praises my music, making me a hold a hand over my heart.

"Wow that honestly means a lot coming from you guys. You have such a unique sound too and it inspired me to go with the direction I really wanted to in my music," I compliment them, seeing their eyes light up.

"Thank you! Have you ever thought of collabing with another artist?" Changbin asks, seeming to be hinting at something as Minho pats his shoulder warningly.

"Well, now that you've brought it up, I've always wanted to make some songs with you guys," I confess shyly, blushing even more when they all ask 'really'?!

"That would be amazing, I think we could create something great together," Bang Chan nods, a more professional tone as he thinks about their music.

"Perfect! Well I have to go now, but I could get our managers to exchange numbers?" I say, realising I should be getting ready to find my seat.

"We'd love that!" Felix claps his hands together happily.

"Great! Well it was lovely to meet you guys!" I wave as I start to walk away, before I turn snack around quickly and call over to them, "oh, by the way Han, thanks for representing us British Stays, your accent is the best," I daringly tease, giggling to myself as I walk away.

I felt like I was on cloud nine. I met my favourite people in the world... and we were going to try and collab together. It really doesn't get better than this.

Except it does.

For my performance I had changed into a beautiful green dress to match the nature filled scene behind me, performing one of my songs called 'Salvia'. It was a reassuring song to comfort a partner, before the scene behind me started showing dying flowers as I transitioned into a song called 'Rotten to the Core', the pure opposite of the first song. As I ended the performance I saw Stray Kids up and applauding for me, and I smiled and nodded in their direction.

Then I saw them perform too. And the remix they did blew my mind. I was so happy they were getting recognition from other artists too, who may not have seen them before. And I returned my admiration for their performance as I gave a standing ovation of my own, seeing them look my way too.

It all felt like a dream. The future was really looking up, especially with a collaboration with my favourite people in the midst of it all.

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wardenparker · 3 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 18

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.8k 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, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, sexy talk, nudity, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus has been getting buff. Summary: It's time for a White House wedding! Notes: Here it is, dears. The last chapter of Marcus Pike's soulmate story. Next week will be the epilogue, but I will be missing this beautiful family and all of its extensions like crazy. 😭😭 As always, please remember that the gif choice for each chapter does not reflect the appearance of the reader, only the tone of the chapter.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17

After the rehearsal dinner, you had gone separate ways. For the sake of upholding a silly little tradition, Marcus had spent some time with his parents at their hotel before going home to have a night of personal reflection. You had gone with your siblings back to the White House residence for a sort of last hurrah sibling sleepover. Both Alex and June will be moving out of the residence this month to live with their soulmates, making your parents officially empty nesters. They've promised not to get teary about it, but you can't be sure that will hold for very long.

It's after a few hours of board games with your siblings – Alex policed the hell out of Junie when she tried to cheat, as usual – that you're climbing into the bathtub of your guest bedroom. Donna Pike had gifted you a little self-care basket for tonight with your favorite bubble bath, scented candle, face mask, and several other indulgent bits, but the missing piece of this bath is at the other end of a phone call. Once you're settled in, you dial Marcus's number and put your phone on speaker to set it on a stool next to the tub.

"Hey Hummingbird." Marcus's voice is warm and soft, happy to hear from you. He had known one of you would call the other, but he hadn't wanted to interrupt any activities that might have been going on. He knew everyone was having a game night. "How is your night going? Is it sad to say I already miss you?"

"If it's sad, then we're both sad." You chuckle quietly and shake your head, wishing he was beside you instead of on the phone. "Remind me why we agreed to sleeping apart tonight?"

"Something about 'tradition'." He scoffs playfully. "But I don't think that I can sneak into the White House." He laughs. "Something tells me that it wouldn't go over so well."

"You wouldn't have to sneak," you remind him. Calling him was the best decision you could have made under the circumstances. You're feeling more relaxed already. "The Secret Service loves you. You could drive right up to the place and they'd wave happily to see you."

"Only because they don't have to background check me." He jokes, hearing a small splash and smiling. "Are you in the bath?" He asks.

"Of course I am." Another laugh, from both of you this time, and you splash more loudly for him to hear. "Aren't you?"

"Not yet." He pouts, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his beer bottle to rush towards your shared bathroom. "Give me two minutes though and I will be."

"Your Mom made me a little bath basket." It's still the single sweetest gesture you can imagine from your mother-in-law. She must have poked around your bathroom last time she was here to find out your favorites. "I'm going to be so relaxed when I crawl into that giant bed."

"And cold." He chuckles, turning on the water and immediately starting to strip after he puts his own phone on speaker and sets it on the edge. "You always want to snuggle close when you want to warm up."

"I'm not sorry to tell you." The guiltless grin in your voice is obvious. "That that has less to do with warmth and more to do with the sexy naked man."

"Is that why we always end up having sex?" He chuckles quietly as he finishes stripping down to climb into the bath. "It's sneaky and I like it."

"It's not really sneaky," you defend half-heartedly. But both of you are laughing and it doesn't matter. "I just get so distracted by my naked fiancé. But I bet my naked husband will be even more distracting."

"Maybe." He groans as he starts to slips into the water and reaches for his phone again. "How was your game night? Did Junie try to cheat again?"

"Of course she did. For a girl who is so upright about pretty much anything else, she is a ruthless cheat when it comes to board games. I almost wish she'd take up poker and make us all a fortune." The soft groans and splashing sounds of Marcus climbing into your large, sunken bathtub make you smile all over again. "Comfy, handsome?"

"I am, but I have to admit...this tub is a little big without you in it with me." He reaches for his beer bottle and smiles as he remembers another time he was drinking the bath. "I guess I'll just have to imagine it like we did when I was in London the first time we took a bath together over the phone."

"Oh, I'm definitely imagining it." You lean back in the clawfoot tub you're in and reach for the face mask to really indulge. "I have to say, this tub is very definitely one person-sized. No hanky panky in the Lincoln bedroom's bathtub."

"I bet we could make it work." Marcus chuckles. "I can't believe you're staying in the Lincoln bedroom without me." He huffs playfully.

"Yeah? Mr. I'm getting ready for the wedding in the Oval Office?" Blowing a raspberry at him over the phone makes you laugh because you can perfectly picture the exact face he is making in response. "I can't believe you talked my mom into letting you do that. Talk about bragging rights."

He laughs, shrugging even if you aren't there to see it and wearing a smug grin. "It's going to make for one hell of a photo though." He brags.

"History books, baby," you hum as you apply the jelly-like face mask to your skin and sigh at the cool contrast to the hot water surrounding the rest of your body. "It's going to be in history books."

He hadn't really thought of it in those terms, but you're right. "You aren't getting cold feet, are you?" He asks, smirking slightly because he knows you are just as eager as he is for tomorrow. "It would be pretty embarrassing if you didn't show up when the wedding is in your parent's backyard."

"The only thing I'm going to have cold feet over is magazines and papers and the internet having their hands on our wedding photos." It is what it is. And you know that. If you truly had objected, you could have easily eloped, or elected to hold off on getting married until your mother is out of office. This is the way you're doing it and that's fine. "No, my love, I'll be there with bells on. Maybe even literally," you tease. "After all, I never told you what my something blue is."

"Are you going to tell me now, or do I have to wait to find out until tomorrow?" There is something so comforting in knowing that you are less than twenty-four hours away from being his wife.

"Oh no, you absolutely have to wait." A fact which makes you giggle mischievously. The shimmering blue nipple covers that will be safely tucked into your white shapewear are just for his eyes. Sydney had suggested tiny blue panties, but you wanted to do something a little more creative for Marcus.

“Evil.” He hisses, but there’s no heat behind his words. “I think you just want me to drag you out of the reception early.”

"The very idea that we wouldn't leave the reception early is laughable," you tease. "I've seen the suit you're wearing, baby. You're gonna look like a whole three-damn-course meal."

“And I haven’t even gotten a glimpse of your dress.” He pouts.

"Which is exactly how it's supposed to be. Tradition, remember?" The two of you had gone along with almost all of them. You did, however, opt out of the garter toss at tomorrow's reception. There will be none of that.

“Much to my dismay. I’m rethinking this tradition shit.” He huffs. “Not sleeping next to you when I’m not on another continent seems like a crime.”

"You'll get to see my dress in..." You glance up at the clock on the wall. "A little less than twenty-one hours."

“I know, I can’t wait.” It’s easy to admit, he’s looking forward to this. He has been for his entire life if he’s honest with himself. You are his soulmate.

"Me either." The broad grin on your face is audible, which only makes you smile even wider. "I love you so much."

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He hums quietly.

That particular sound is so comforting that you practically purr in response. "And I can't wait to be your wife."

“Mrs. Pike.” He coos softly. “Are you ready for all the annoying paperwork changes?”

"Oh, absolutely." Just because he can't see you nod doesn't mean you aren't doing it. "It's all already printed out, filled out, and sitting in a folder in the office at home. My dad promised to file it for me while we're on our honeymoon. I just have to sign everything and bring him the folder at Constance's birthday party."

He should have known. “You’re perfect.” He promises. “You are just….perfect.”

"I'm excited to be your wife." Something you always knew you would be able to say to the partner you chose to stay with forever. You just never imagined anyone as wonderful as Marcus.

“Twenty hours and thirteen minutes left.” He muses. “But now I’m thinking we should have had a morning wedding.”

"That would have been a good idea." It was an idea that was bandied about, but you had ultimately decided against it. Though you can't remember why at the moment.

“Yep. By lunchtime we could be back in our hotel room. Or back home.” Marcus smirks at the small sound of protest you give.

"I'm extremely excited that your parents aren't starting their housesitting until after our wedding night." Matthew and Donna will be taking care of your place, collecting your mail, watering your houseplants, and generally looking after things for the two weeks you're in Scotland. But tonight and tomorrow night they are staying in the inn so you can have some privacy for your wedding night.

“Yes. I would be very unhappy to have them sleeping right next door.” Marcus snorts. “Because they would hear things.”

"And your parents do not need to hear things." Especially not when Marcus gets you going and you can't keep your volume down. "Just like my parents do not need to hear things. And we will not need to hear things when our kids are grown."

“Our little girl is going to be a good girl.” He teases. You’ve had the conversation about when your children are older and are both on the same page. There’s not going to be separate rules for girls versus boys. That’s not fair.

"Need I remind you that you routinely call me a 'good girl' while fucking me into oblivion?" You laugh, though, knowing that this is very much a non-issue at the moment. "Good girl is a relative term."

Marcus chokes on the mouthful of beer he had been about to swallow. “No. No. Please don’t remind me of that.”

“Daddy and good girl can stay sexy for now.” Your laugh turns soft and you lean back in your bath again, imagining how red his face must be.

“You’re such a brat.” He growls, shaking his head. “Do you want me to spank you tomorrow?” The two of you have ventured into spanking and light bondage, finding it a fun new expansion of your sexual experience.

“Oh, I absolutely want you to spank me tomorrow. I thought that was a given.” And as much as the thought is tantalizing, you’ve already promised yourself you won’t masturbate yourself to sleep tonight. Somehow the idea of Lincoln’s ghost watching over that is too creepy.

“Already needy.” He teases, having snorted out loud when someone asked about traditional roles in marriage during the sit down interview. Both you and Marcus believe that traditional roles have to be fitted to modern times and there have been several private jokes about that.

“Always needy.” The correction doesn’t really mean anything, but you hum it softly like a coo in his ear.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans, loving when you drop your voice into that pitch. It makes him shiver and his already hard cock twitches. “You’re making it hard to keep my promise to myself.”

That actually has you laughing so hard that you snort and you pick up your phone with your dry hand to bring it closer. “Did you make a no masturbating promise to yourself, too?”

“Of course, because what is one night?” He asks sarcastically.

“One night is nothing,” you huff, giggling that you both had the same idea.

“And now you’re talking about me spanking you?” He growls, shaking his head. “Baby, you know what that does to me.”

“I believe the phrase ’Spank me, Daddy’ almost made you cum in your jeans last week.” A fact which you fully intend to exploit at a future date. At many future dates.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pressing his thighs together to apply slight pressure to his balls. “You’re not being nice. How would you like it if I didn’t let you cum tomorrow as punishment?”

“On our wedding night?” You laugh in utter disbelief, knowing he’s bluffing but finding it amusing that he’s trying. “You wouldn’t.”

He wouldn’t and both of you know it. “No.” He admits with a chuckle. “You’ve got me there.”

A soft, warm silence settles between you, and you look at your phone screen as tenderly as if it was his face. “We should get some sleep, my love,” you hum quietly. Even though you’d rather stay up and talk to him all night. There is a lot to do tomorrow.

“Do you want to go to sleep with the phone on, or should I let you go?” There have been a couple of times where you’ve slept with the phone still connected and he smiles as he remembers you snoring softly through the line.

“Are you going to tease me for snoring?” Like you can read his mind, you set the phone down again and start washing off the gently abrasive face mask.

Marcus laughs quietly. “No, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” He swears. “I think it’s cute.”

“You snore too, ya know,” you huff. But there’s no heat in it. Just soft affection from and for you both.

“I know. You don’t think I know that? With this nose?” He jokes, laughing at himself.

“I love your nose.” And if he were here with you, you would kiss it to make your point. The number of kisses you’ve left on the prominent, proud bridge is numerous. “I hope all our babies look exactly like you.”

“God no.” He groans. “I don’t want that. I would not look good as a girl.”

"Pike genetics are full-proof," you counter, washing off the last of your face mask and lifting yourself out of the bath carefully so as not to splash too much water. "All of your cousins are fantastic looking. I have no concerns for our kids."

He grumbles, unable to really articulate a rebuttal when it’s the truth that his cousins are all attractive. “I want our kids to look like you.” He murmurs.

"For better or for worse, I don't think we get to pick." Your bathrobe is nearby, and you slip it on to stay warm as you climb out of the bath. Marcus does have a point. You're always cold after a nice hot bath.

He sighs softly and smiles as he finishes his beer and hits the drain for the tub. “I hear they have those 3D ultrasounds now. Where you get a clearer picture of the baby? You think you would want to do that?”

"I'm on board if you are." The sound of both tubs draining in unison takes over for a few seconds but you step away from the tub to dry off and moisturize. "It might be kind of weird at first, but seeing more of the baby doesn't sound like a bad thing."

“Did you take a test tonight?” It’s silly but he had shoved a test into your bag in case. It’s still way too early, but he’s excited.

"I had my period less than two weeks ago," you remind him, although you grin at the idea and look over to see the small, wrapped test sticking out of your overnight bag. "It would be way too soon to show up on a test."

“Yeah.” He exhales in disappointment and sighs at his impatience. “Damnit.”

"Do you want me to keep taking tests during our honeymoon?" The lotion that Donna packed in your bath basket is the same scent as the bubble bath was and the whole bathroom smells perfumed and beautiful. "Or do you want to hold off until we get home again?"

“That’s up to you.” He doesn’t want you to feel pressured or have it take away from the trip.

"I think..." Once you're dry, moisturized, and wrapped up again, you pick up your phone to go back into the bedroom you'll be sleeping in tonight. "I honestly think if we test negative on our honeymoon it will upset us both. And we'll pretend not to be upset, which will make one or both of us pouty. Let's leave the tests at home, love."

“Agreed.” Marcus easily accepts that. “I don’t want anything but for us to enjoy our trip and not worry about anything. Not even your uterus.” He snorts. “Except when it comes to making sure it’s filled up.”

You hum in agreement. "And that is not a worry, it's a pleasure."

“Yes it is.” He agrees, wrapping the towel around his waist and padding into the bedroom to crawl into an empty bed. Hating how you aren’t waiting for cuddles already.

The sound of him getting into bed is comfortable and familiar, though you wish the mattress beside you was dipping with his weight. Unable to stifle a yawn, you clap your hand over your mouth to cover the sound and ask, “What time are you getting here tomorrow?”

“I’m just going to pretend like you don’t know I’m going to be there as soon as I can.” Marcus laughs. “Is there anything you need me to bring? Anything you’ve forgotten?”

“Just my husband.” Words that will be perfectly true in less than twenty hours. “I was very silly to leave him behind tonight.”

“Yes you were.” Marcus teases, folding his hand behind his head and laying with the phone on his chest. “Don’t worry, he won’t let you leave him behind again for a very long time.”

“Never.” You promise him without hesitation. “I’m never going to be that foolish ever again.”

“Are you curled up under the blankets?” He asks softly, imagining your nightly routine since he’s seen it enough.

“Mmhmm.” The stack of plush pillows doesn’t quite make up for his absence, though, so you tease. “It doesn’t smell like you. I might have to count sheep or something to get that rhythmic snore going for you to fall asleep to.”

“I just imagine you sprawled out here on my chest.” He admits. “Cold feet on my legs.”

“Cold feet, warm heart,” you tell him with a drowsy giggle, though that isn’t quite the traditional saying.

“The warmest heart imaginable.” Marcus agrees, knowing you are getting tired. “I love you, sweetheart. Close your eyes, I’m still right here.”

“I love you.” You have from the beginning, you came to terms with that a long time ago. And by this time tomorrow, you’ll be his wife. It’s almost the day you’ve been working so hard for, and you can’t wait.

Marcus is up early, his sleep is brief, but he feels rested. Energized because the day that has been planned for so long is here. He’s going to marry you. The phone is still connected and he smiles when he hears you start to stir.

It probably shouldn’t surprise you at all to wake up and find the call to Marcus still connected, but you smile sleepily and hum when your eyes fully open to show you how many hours you and your soulmate have been on the phone together just sleeping. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning.” He smiles as he sips on his coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmmm…” Another hum, but this one comes with a small grumble as you stretch and sit up in bed. “How long have you been awake?”

He snorts. “Two hours.” He admits, grinning when you huff in annoyance at him not waking you. “I couldn’t sleep anymore knowing that today is the day.”

“Our kids are going to be early risers like you, aren’t they?” You grumble in a playfully accusatory tone. “I tossed and turned all night because I was impatient for today.”

“I just kept waking up and looking at the clock.” Marcus admits. “I’m excited. Must be something interesting happening today.”

“Must be.” Before you can say more, a soft knock on your door announces that the day has officially begun. “That’s my wake up call,” you tell him, and the energy in your voice lightens noticeably. “I love you, Marcus Pike. Get your cute butt over here so we can at least be in the same building again.”

“Do you want to exchange gifts before you need to get dressed?” He asks. “Or wait until we are alone tonight?”

“Let’s save it for tonight.” His technically doesn’t exist yet, for that matter, but you’ll be able to explain better at the house. The shed that you’re having built for him behind the house will be whatever he wants it to be, but when you return for Scotland it will be filled with paints, tools, other accoutrements of whatever hobbies he is enjoying at the time – and enough space for kids or a dog to come and visit him.

“That works for me.” He chuckles quietly. “Just needed to make sure I was going to bring it or leave it.”

“It can be a sweet, private moment,” you suggest, and giggle quietly when the knocking outside comes again and more loudly. “Right before you put a baby in me.”

“Birdie.” The nickname is growled out, his thoughts immediately on peeling you out of your dress.

“Love you, baby, see you later!” You cackle into the phone, making a smacking kiss sound before hanging up and jumping out of bed to throw your robe on over your nightgown. “I’m up!”

The door is thrown open and Junie, Sydney and Selena flood the room with happy squeals. Sydney carrying coffee cups which she picked up on her way to the White House. “Happy wedding day!!!!!”

“Ohhhh, thank you loves!” The cup from your favorite coffee shop even says the same, with hearts and well wishes written out by the baristas this morning — which only attests to how often you go there and how well they know you. “Everybody feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“We have been waiting until a reasonably decent hour. What are you still doing in bed?” Selena huffs. “I know Marcus has been up since before dawn.”

“Your cousin is well known for his ridiculously early rising.” You huff, with a teasing roll of your eyes. “I tossed and turned all night. Thank god nerves don’t make me nauseous because I am very excited for food tonight.” The grin you toss at the other three is devilish. “Along with other things.”

“I don’t want to hear about that.” Selena shoves her fingers into her ears playfully.

“She acts like I haven’t been fucking her cousin practically every day since we got together,” you snort, sipping the coffee Sydney brought you.

“La la la. I can’t hear you.” She singsongs playfully before she shoots you a grin. “How does it feel to be hours away from being Mrs. Marcus Pike?”

“And how is Clark Kent stacking up to the task of being a Pike soulmate?” Sydney asks, knowing full well that the teasing is a mandatory topic this morning.

All of you giggle at the way conversations are rapid fire and merging. Everyone boisterous and playful. “He’s amazing. Especially when he takes off the glasses.” Selena teases, shooting finger guns back at Syd. “Now…Mrs. Almost Pike?”

"I'm going to become a Victorian lady and only respond to Mrs. Pike for at least the next month," you inform them with an unrepentant grin. "Just so you know."

“As you should.” Junie snorts. “You’ve waited a whole year for this day.” Making sure that she doesn’t spill her own coffee, she flops down on the bed with you. “Ready to get pretty?”

“We are all already ravishing.” Holding up your paper coffee cup, you tap it against Junie’s, Sydney’s, and Selena’s in salute. “But it will be fun to play dress up.”

“The dress is already out. Mom had the protection detail bring it in.” Junie cackles. “The Secret Service was protecting your wedding dress!”

“Our wedding dress,” you remind your sister, reaching out to gently tap her nose like you’re punctuating a point. The alterations had gone perfectly, of course, and Alex’s vest will be stunning when he marries David next year.

“Right now, it’s your wedding dress.” She counters with a grin. “And mom has ordered another box to have it preserved in for after the dry cleaning.” She wrinkles her nose. “Because I know you are going to have sex while wearing the dress. That has to be some kind of fantasy for you two.”

You really can’t help it, you just sort of snort and burst out into giggles at the genuinely disbelieving and slightly horrified expression in June’s face. “I promise I will take it off first,” you assure her when you can breathe again. “That’s the dress you and I and maybe even our kids will get married in, I promise not to have sex while I’m still wearing it.”

“I don’t believe you.” She huffs, grinning at herself and taking another sip of her coffee. “I don’t believe you at all. Not when Marcus is going to want to throw you over his shoulder immediately.”

“Oh he’s definitely going to want to.” There’s no denying that. June has a point, it’s practically a kink for Marcus to see you do anything wedding related. “But the dress is an heirloom. We’re not taking any chances with it.”

Junie snorts and Syd grins. “Hey….don’t knock it.” She warns your younger sibling. “You might change your mind about wedding dress sex when it comes time for you to dance with the incredibly sexy soulmate you’ve just pledged to spend your life with.” She grins. “Wearing a tux.” That makes Junie bite her bottom lip and bury her face behind her drink as her brain suddenly completely flips.

“I think we hit a nerve,” you giggle, on the absolute verge of delight to see Junie just as flustered as can be.

“Shut up.” She huffs and rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning when you all cackle at her. “This is your day. Not mine.”

“Sure is.” A reminder which has you bouncing up out of bed and stretching delightedly. The sun is shining, the day is young, and soon enough Marcus and the boys will be downstairs getting ready, too. “Which is why I get to tease you with this big bright smile on my face.”

“So I…made you something.” Junie admits, looking slightly embarrassed as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out some hair combs. Some of the extra beading that had come from the extra material of the wedding dress had been too good to waste and she had also made a tie clasp for Alex.

“Oh my god, June.” The gasp from your lips comes all the way up from the pit of your stomach, as your sister pulls out a piece of cloth tied up in ribbon like she’s walked straight out of a Jane Austen novel to give it to you. “Honey, you didn’t have to do anything, but thank you.” She’s always been a bit craftier than you or Alex. Good with her hands. With visualizing a project and executing it well even when things inevitably weren’t perfect somewhere in the middle. When you take the little parcel from her and unwrap it, tears spring to your eyes almost immediately. “Junie…” The two little hair combs are perfect, and of course she would know that since she sat with you during your hair and makeup trial a mere two weeks ago. “They’re beautiful honey. You made these yourself?”

“Yeah.” She smiles softly, happy you like them, even if you’ve never been the type to dismiss the thought behind any gift. “There was extra material from the dress that couldn’t be used, but the beads were too gorgeous to let go to waste.”

"I can't believe you made an heirloom." Selena sighs, barely tracing her fingertips over the delicate combs when you put them down to hug your sister fiercely. "Have you ever thought about selling the things you make? The jewelry you made me for my birthday is gorgeous."

“Not really.” She admits with a slightly self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know if anyone would want to buy them.”

"Then we'll all be the very happy recipients of your beautiful handmade gifts," you promise your sister proudly. "But if you ever wanted to try your own small business, every single one of us would do whatever we could to help."

“It’s something to think about.” Sydney offers with an encouraging smile. “I think you would do really well.”

"You never know what the future will bring." Selena adds, and she aims a wink at June before judging you toward the door. "Except for today. We have two hours until the hair and makeup artists get here, which means we need to get the bride down to breakfast."

“Breakfast!” Selena moans happily. “Breakfast at the White House!”

“Nervous yet?” Juan smooths one hand down the front of his tuxedo and nudges Marcus’s side with a teasing grin. He knows that nervous isn’t quite the word for what Marcus is feeling now that it’s time for guests to start arriving and the evening to really begin, but his friend has been contemplatively quiet for the last ten minutes or so and a check-in seems the most minor of courtesies.

“Impatient.” Marcus is normally calm and collected, patience for days. Now, now his skin feels jittery, like he had three pots of coffee instead of the small glass of bourbon in the Oval Office about fifteen minutes ago.

“Like you’re about to crawl out of your skin, or like a kid the night before Christmas?” Juan asks, one eyebrow ticking up in Interest. The difference is important, though neither one is bad.

Giving a small laugh, Marcus’s shoulders roll back. “Both. It’s both.” He admits, looking over at Juan with a grin. “I don’t know how to even describe it. Except I wish this day could last forever and I want it to be over already.”

“Yeah.” The other man lets out a small bark of a laugh and shakes his head. There are some times when Juan is devastated to remember that there was many years when he and Marcus had lost contact. Marcus wasn’t even at his wedding despite Juan now being present for both of Marcus Pike’s. For as deep a bond as the men share, it seems like Marcus always should have been there. His emotional brother for so many years. “Come on,” he says, instead of voicing any of those thoughts. There is no need to make today bittersweet. “Let’s go greet your guests as they arrive. It’ll make the time go by faster and give you something to focus on.”

A task, something to do. That’s exactly what Marcus needs right now, because he really wants to go up to the residence and see you. The tradition is all that’s keeping him outside and he wants to keep from rehearsing his vows for a hundredth time. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, guys.” Juan turns to the others — to the other groomsmen in the Oval Office — and waves one hand toward the doors that lead the Rose Garden with a flourish. “Let’s get the night started.”

There is a knock on the door and it opens a bare inch. “May I come in?” Marcus almost laughs when the person the office belongs to is called in. Your mother is elegant in her mother of the bride gown and her smile is bright when she walks in. “I was hoping to speak with you a moment.” She admits and Marcus nods.

“We’ll be outside.” Juan offers, shuffling towards the Rose Garden door.

“I won’t keep you long,” she promises, smoothing the skirt of her satin gown as she slips into the room. She and the other parents had agreed on wearing formal black with accents of navy and gold to suit the wedding party and it had ended up looking quite elegant.

“Yes ma’am.” He won’t insult you by asking her if you’ve changed your mind, he knows that isn’t possible. He waits and moves over to the couch when she indicates a less formal audience than it would be if she sat behind the desk. Which every single one of the groomsmen did, including Marcus, and took pictures. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“I wanted to check in on you earlier,” she admits, the pinched smile pulling at her lips having nothing to do with him. “Unfortunately the world at large does not particularly care that it is my daughter’s wedding day and I had to take a call. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Great.” Marcus laughs, wondering if she thinks he has cold feet. “Honestly, I’ve been wondering why we didn’t have a morning wedding all day.” He admits. “I love your daughter and I am humbled to be her soulmate and have her choose me.”

"I don't doubt the two of you for a moment," she assures him easily. "No one who has seen the two of you together could ever have any doubts."

Sitting down, he smiles at his future mother-in-law. “That makes me happy.” He admits. “All I want is to be a good husband and man.”

"You are a good man, Marcus." She might have voiced concern far before this if he was not, but as far as this man's relationship with her daughter goes, she has been that most rare thing: a contented and approving mother. "But you know as well as anyone does, that things won't always be perfect. Sometimes things won't even be good. You've been through a lot as a couple already, and I applaud the mature and methodical way you tackle your problems together."

“You’ve raised a remarkable woman.” Marcus hums, proud of the stamp of approval. “All of your children.” He looks around the office in admiration. “This— holding this office, having this job is amazing and something to be proud of, but I believe your greatest achievement is the caliber of children you’ve raised for the next generations.”

"I've held them to a high standard," your mother admits, unashamed of that fact even as some might have looked at it from the outside and thought her unfair or asking too much at times. And maybe she was, but it never stopped you, Alex, or June from rising to the occasion. In fact, her three children have repeatedly met an ever-rising bar of expectation for their entire lives. "So I have to say both 'thank you', and agree with you. If the only thing I ever accomplished in my life was raising the three of them, I would still consider myself a remarkably accomplished person." She smiles at Marcus, resting a hand on his arm in that same reassuring and gently proud gesture she has shown to each of her children throughout their lives. "For what it's worth? The two of you are going to be a beautiful example of love and support for your own kids. All of those tough times will only bring you closer together. And when you need your family, we'll be here for you. All of us." If there is a bit of water behind her eyes, she isn't ashamed of it. It is an emotional day, after all. "I'm very proud to count you among my children, Marcus."

It’s not surprising that her profoundly emotional words makes him tear up slightly. Today will be a day where both of you will have moments where the emotions of the day, the love, get the best of you. “Thank you.” He covers her hand with his one and squeezes the back of it. “They say that when you get married, you also marry your spouse’s family, and this is one family I am proud to be counted among.”

"I think there is something to be said for finding friends within your family." She smiles, returning the gentle squeeze from him before she rises from the sofa. "But friends who are chosen family might be ever dearer. We're always here for you. Both of you. Birdie's father and I couldn't possibly be prouder of the two of you."

“Thank you.” He smiles. “Any words of wisdom?” He asks, always willing to listen to those who have succeeded for as long as your parents have. He would be a fool not to.

"Keep talking to each other." She knows that the conversations happen. Sometimes she hears about them and sometimes she just sees the fruits of the emotional labor, but keeping up with them is sometimes the hardest part regardless of how rewarding and healthy it is. "You're going to reach a place where you feel like you should be able to read each other's minds and you might start to just assume you're thinking or feeling the same things. Instead, the second you find yourself assuming, that should be your clue to check in with each other." Her hand on his shoulder is steady, and she offers him a reassuring smile. "Especially when it comes to your kids. They're going to surprise you every single day."

“Wise words.” Marcus smiles at the happy thought. “Did Birdie tell you?” He can only assume you have, since your core group of people know, but he wants to make sure.

“This morning at breakfast.” She beams happily. News of an impending first grandchild had brought her to near tears at the table. “We’ll be proud as peacocks when you’re ready to deliver the news. Until then, there is already plenty to be proud of.”

“Good.” He grins even broader at the idea of announcing the newest edition to the family soon enough. “First, we have some vows to say though.”

“You absolutely do.” Just one glance out the window shows both of them that guests are beginning to arrive full force, and her smile softens even more. “Go and say your hellos, honey. Let yourself be excited. It’s your day together.”

“Thank you….mom.” He tried the new title out as he leans in to kiss your mother’s cheek and then stands quickly.

“Go on.” She chuckles a little, smile brightening as Marcus heads for the door. “Oh! Marcus. One more thing.” When he turns like an excitable deer in headlights, she smirks. “You did get a picture at my desk, right? It’s going to be great in the wedding album.”

His grin is guilty, and he looks over at the desk. “Absolutely.” He admits with a chuckle. “Who wouldn’t?”

Waiting has been the hardest part. Waiting just inside the confines of the White House to be signaled out by Miss Sharma. Two by two, your wedding party goes down the aisle toward the rose-covered archway where Marcus is waiting, with Malachi carrying Constance and her little basket of petals making the most fuss at the head of the line until it’s only you and your father waiting just out of view to make your approach.

“I know you’re ready, pumpkin.” With a tone that has nothing but love dripping from his words, your father tucks your hand around his arm proudly. “You look beautiful. Too beautiful to be on my arm, but I think you’ll find the man who compliments you perfectly at the end of this short walk.”

“Right now it seems like the longest walk in the world.” But you look over at your father — beam at him, really — and don’t even bother to stifle the boundless, giddy giggle that bubbles out of you. “You set a very high standard for how I expect the men in my life to treat me, Dad. I hope you know that. Marcus is the only person I’ve ever met who could surpass it.”

“He’s a good man.” He has spent time with Marcus and there is no one else he would want to be by your side. “He will be your partner in life and love, and make you stronger when you need his strength.”

“He’s more than I dreamed of.” Your fingers squeeze your father’s arm gently as the music changes, the quartet of musicians in the garden moving into a classic arrangement of Etta James’ At Last as your cue to start walking.

Marcus shuffles slightly, unable to stand completely still as the pre-determined music starts. It’s perfect for the moment and everyone in the audience turns to watch as you and your father step into view.

If anyone had thought you wouldn't be holding back tears already, they would be desperately incorrect. Thankfully, your family and friends know you well enough that when you sniffle slightly at the top of the aisle, with your eyes brimming in unshed tears of joy, it's only smiles and nods of understanding from those you walk past. Not that you notice. Not that you're looking at a single person other than Marcus. Not that you could ever tear your gaze away from the matching water that has risen in his eyes, the two of you brimming over with tangible joy that almost makes you want to break away and simply bolt right into his arms.

The second he sees you, it’s like the air has been sucked out of his lungs. The moment barrels over him and leaves him breathless as the stunning vision of you captures his full attention. He can look at nothing but you, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes filled with unshed tears that this stunning creature, beautiful and wonderful in every sense, wants to marry him. He can’t even help himself, “I love you” is mouthed as you walk slowly towards him to the romantic song.

Love. Love hardly seems like a strong enough word right now. You mouth back to him, “I love you,” beaming as tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and when you finally put your hand in his at the end of the aisle it feels like your pounding heart grows wings.

Marcus nods at your father, but his eyes are on you, unable to believe how breathtaking you are. “You’re stunning.” He coos, making a ripple of adoration for the couple run through the wedding guests.

“So are you.” His family necklace hangs at your throat and your grandmother’s altered wedding dress hugs your figure, enormous symbols of the coming together that your wedding means for your families. The very real judge standing before you in the Rose Garden as friends, family, world leaders, and everyone in between watching on fade into the background for just one more second while you look up at Marcus. “Ready?”

Both of you manage to project the biggest grins towards each other. "Absolutely." He promises. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin gently. Nervous giddiness settles into his stomach and makes his entire body shiver in anticipation. Wanting this moment to be the perfect realization of the last year of planning.

However brief the formal ceremony might be, It’s stumbling tearfully through your vows that you know you’ll remember after today. The soft giggles from you and Marcus and the laughter and sniffles that ripple through the crowd as an echo of your happiness.

Marcus doesn't hear most of what the judge is saying, although he heard every word last night at the rehearsal. It was true what Juan said, once you see your bride, everything else fades away. The beautiful speech about soulmates and love is not even registering as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

"I," saying your full name almost sounds foreign for how much you want it to end in Pike already, "take you, Marcus Pike, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live." The traditional vows were good for both of you, but you had agreed to add a little personal touch of your own to them. Something that made your vows yours alone. "I promise to keep your hand in mine through the parts of life we have never navigated before just as steadily as the parts that we have. I promise to love you in the big ways as well as the little ones, whether it's planning vacations and birthdays, or fixing your coffee in the morning so you can have that extra second to breathe before work. I promise to be the best wife and partner that I can be to you. To love you as an equal and to nurture the life we have together just as much as I will nurture any children we have." Through tears, you can't help but laugh softly as you look into Marcus's eyes. "No matter how many sets of twins we have." His family, and yours too, you're sure, laugh at that inevitability and there may even be some applause. "You love me and complete me in ways that I never knew possible, and I will spend my whole life loving you the same. Your love has made me a better woman, and I will not stop choosing you. My soulmate, my husband, my true love, and my very best friend."

He has to take a moment. Choked up and threatening to break down into the tears that are surely going to be present in the video, not that he gives a damn if the entire world sees how emotional your vows make him. Swallowing harshly and clearing his throat, the family and friends gather chuckle when he has to clear his throat and he shakes his head. "How can I beat that?" He asks, grinning at you before he straightens slightly. "I, Marcus Pike, take you –" he says your name in the warmest tone, "to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and sorrow, as long as we both shall live." He vows proudly. "From the moment I met you, I was drawn to you. My heart already knew what my mind had not yet figured out. You are my match. My mate in life and love. The perfect balance that completes me." He smiles at you, pulling your hands up to lay joined over his heart. "More than my soulmate, you are a wonderful, vibrant woman. One that I choose every day. I choose to love you, to build a life with you that we will look back on years down the road with pride." Squeezing your hands, he hums. "I promise to listen when you need an ear to talk to, to hold you when you need a shoulder to cry on. I promise that I will stand beside you when times are tough and celebrate with you when they are good. To find joy in waking up beside you every day and thanking the universe for placing us together. To protect the life that we build, the children that we have and put you and our family first before anything else." He says your name again. "I am the luckiest man in the world to have your love and your marks on my body. I will always choose you, my one true love. My wife. My soulmate."

In that moment, you could care less about protocols or order of events, and instinctually close the small gap separating you and Marcus to kiss him. There is a smattering of laughter and a little more applause, but the kiss doesn’t last long enough for the judge to do more than raise an eyebrow at you as if to disapprove. “I couldn’t resist,” you admit sheepishly, taking Marcus’s hands again as another wave of laughter rises out of your guests.

"You don't ever have to resist with me." Marcus promises with a happy little giggle of his own. Both of you turn back towards the judge. He shrugs slightly, "Proceed." He tells the man, unwilling to say sorry for that candid moment.

"The rings?" The judge asks, looking to the wedding party to move the end of the ceremony along. Malachi pops up with Constance still strapped to his chest in his impeccably tailored suit. The nearly identical wedding bands are distributed to you and Marcus and the judge nods. "Repeat after me, please. This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion. With this ring, I thee wed."

"This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion." You have to take a breath as you place the band on Marcus's finger and finish the promise with a shaky voice that is filled with more happy tears. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Marcus stares down at his hand as you slowly push the ring onto his finger. Humming when it is in place and feels perfect on his hand. The rings that he has already given you are stacked on your finger, the promise ring, the engagement ring and now ready for the last piece. "This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion." He turns the ring to show you the engraving on the inside of the band right before he slides it onto your finger to complete the set. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Two hands, one heart says the inside of your wedding band, and as the judge is finally pronouncing you man and wife, you barely manage to tear your eyes away from the place where he has added this band to the others that he has given you. It's his eyes you're staring into again when the judge has his last words on the matter: "You may now seal your union with a kiss."

It's only fitting that the kiss that joins you together in holy matrimony include the infamous dip that had been photographed and talked about before your soulmate status was even known. His lips are curved against yours as he holds you dipped down low to the ground, the guests clapping and cheering as the clicks of the cameras go wild.

If he’s showing off just a touch, you’ll forgive him easily. After all, it is the perfect full circle moment for the two of you, a year and half after that first dance.

Pulling you upright, Marcus kisses you again, happiness making him giggle against your lips. “Mrs. Pike.”

“Finally.” You breathe, giggling right along with him, and clinging to his arms for support. “Finally.”

“Finally.” It’s almost a crime to have to break away from you so that the two of you can face your guests and walk back up the aisle. Sydney hands you your bouquet and shamelessly wipes the tears from her eyes, ready to follow after you on her own husband’s arm. The ceremony was perfect, and now everyone is ready to cut loose.

Walking you back up the aisle, Marcus is beaming, his smile lighting up his face and there isn’t anyone there who can deny that he is happy. He kisses your hand and squeezes it when you look over at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Flowers and all else disregarded, you throw your arms around his neck once you’re back inside the White House and pull him into a kiss. The judge, Juan, and Sydney will follow in a minute to sign the marriage certificate with you but right now you’re all alone.

“I can’t believe that we made it through the ceremony.” Marcus admits with a small laugh as he goes in for another kiss.

“Barely did.” Your giggles bubble over, pouring into kiss after kiss. “I’m sure the one story that will get told over and over is that I kissed you during the ceremony.”

“I was about to kiss you, so I wasn’t upset at all.” He admits with a grin.

With your arms around his neck and his own around your waist, the sparkling shine and shimmer in your eyes is endless. “We’re married.”

“Technically not yet.” He teases. “We have to sign on the dotted line and make it official.” Still, that’s just paperwork to him. Not important and those vows you just exchanged.

“Paperwork.” The derisive noise you make comes with a wave of your hand. “It will be filed in no time. The vows are the important parts.” You hum softly, warmed through with bubbling joy. “And the I do’s, of course.”

“The I do’s are the most important part.” Marcus agrees, feeling like he could move mountains and conquer the world. Anything is possible with you by his side. “And you look amazing in that dress.”

"Me?" You practically blow a raspberry at him and run your hands down the lapels of his tuxedo, careful not to muss his boutonniere or the square of gold fabric in his breast pocket. "What about you? I'm over the moon that my Dad convinced you to go to his tailor because you look drop dead gorgeous."

“You like that, huh?” There’s a slightly smug edge to his smile, preening at how your eyes light up as you stroke his chest. The workouts have been helping and he had actually found he didn’t fit into his old tux anymore. His chest and shoulders were too broad now.

"Oh yeah." And if it weren't for seeing your friends approaching through the window, you might just show him how much. Instead, you hum a promise for later. "I'm going to have fun peeling this off of you tonight."

“We don’t have to go right to the reception.” He smirks.

"There are already two Secret Service agents who have probably heard us have sex," you remind him, smirking as men of the same agency open the door from the garden to let your wedding party into the Oval Office. "We don't need to add more to the list."

He rolls his eyes playfully but he doesn’t protest, knowing that now is not the time to sneak away. Everyone will be waiting for pictures to be taken and then for your entrance into the reception.

The decision to have a live band rather than a deejay means that the band leader is the one introducing members of your wedding party as they filter into the ballroom. Juan's mother has whisked baby Constance away for the rest of the night and Malachi leads the rest of the party into entering the ballroom, but it is the announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Pike that has you nearly floating into the room with your hand in Marcus's.

“I like the sound of that, don’t you?” Marcus asks, knowing that instead of a receiving line, the first order of the night is your dance as husband and wife.

“I think it’s perfect.” You agree, hand in his as the two of you move into the center of the dance floor. You’ll have your formal dances and then dinner can be served, leaving the rest of the night to be a wonderful party for everyone to enjoy. At whatever point the head table moves to make speeches, you will grin and bear the embarrassment. For now, you get to dance with your husband.

The sweet strains of your song start to play and Marcus hums with a loving gaze directed towards you. “You’re perfect.” He corrects you gently, pulling you closer to him. “And you’re my wife.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear this new verse again since my bridal shower.” The gentle reminder of his exquisite stunt that day makes both of you smile as you start to dance together.

He chuckles and listens to the song as it plays to match up the time. “As you love me, the world turns round. The birds sing, with songs of joy. My heart and soul are always yours. And life will be, La vie en rose.” He croons to you softly.

“I love you.” Holding him close in the dance seems like such a small thing to do, but keeping each other in your arms as you move around the floor is a beautiful kind of ecstasy tonight.

“I don’t think love is enough to describe what I feel for you.” Marcus admits. “Worship is closer. But it’s still not quite there.”

“Just don’t put me on a pedestal.” It’s something you have to remember not to do with him sometimes — not let yourself get carried away as thinking of him as perfect or worshipping him as your ideal partner. You’re both human, and fallible, and while your communication has been good it has to be maintained. Now, dancing with him, you look up and find his eyes watching you. “But today has been…perfect so far. More perfect than I could ever imagine.”

“We are going to have our ups and downs.” Marcus doesn’t have any illusions of perfection. “But there is no one I’d rather weather a storm with.”

His hand presses to the small of your back, spread out over the tattoo that marks you so decidedly as belonging together. Being meant for each other. Being two halves of one complete heart. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” You murmur, and squeeze his other hand gently in the dance, swirling through the crowd of family and friends, and listen to the last lyrics as they ring out loud and clear.

Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be La vie en rose

______

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

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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joels-shitty-puns · 9 months

Text

Melt With You

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Based on this request! "Just a soft and romantic winter night besides the fireplace with kisses and long talks..."

Warnings: Fluff, kisses, cursing.

Word count: 1k

_____

You climbed into the passenger seat of Pedro's car, throwing the shopping bags in the back seat with a groan. Pedro turned the key in the ignition and immediately you clicked the AC on full blast, only to be met with hot air. “UGHHHH,” you grumbled angrily. “WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HOT!?!” You clipped your seatbelt in a rage.

The two of you had just gone holiday shopping in the middle of December, not that you could tell based on the weather. If someone didn't know the date, they'd think it was June. The midday heat was baking your skin, the thermometer in your boyfriend’s car reading 80° Fahrenheit. California had some exceptional views and often nice weather, making for some great beach days... But when it's December and all you hear on the radio are songs like “Let it Snow” and “Winter Wonderland,” it was hard to feel wintery when the outside didn't reflect that at all.

“I know, baby. It doesn't really feel like the holidays when we're out here melting,” he settled his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The air conditioning had finally started to cool, along with your anger, and you gave a sigh. “I just want to sit by a fire with you and watch the snow fall outside the window,” you leaned your face into your palm, resting against the window. “It just doesn't really feel like the holidays right now.” Pedro turned his face away from the road to look at you briefly, reaching to take your other hand from your lap.

“Baby, I have an idea,” he answered you, kissing your knuckles.

_____

Two days later, you were packing a bag full of warm clothes, getting ready for a cozy weekend away in the California mountains. The drive was a couple hours long, but you were so excited to spend a relaxing weekend away with Pedro that you couldn't stop smiling. The radio buzzed away, playing holiday music, and before long, the station lost service through the mountain road.

“Sleigh bells ring, are you listening..” Pedro began, singing just above hearing volume into the now silent car.

“In the lane, snow is glistening…” you smiled at him, singing the next response.

“A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,” he squeezed your hand, “Walkin' in a winter wonderland,” you harmonized.

Finally the two of you reached the house, a quaint little cabin off the main road, next to the forest. It was surrounded by thick pine trees freshly dusted with snow, and the flakes were starting to come down heavier now. Your grin spread across your face as you jumped out of the car like a child at the playground and instantly scooped up a snowball.

SMACK, you hit Pedro on his back with the fluffy ball, watching it explode into a mess of frost on his shirt. Pedro, who was unloading the bags from the trunk, turned in offense. “You did not just throw a snowball at me when I'm pulling your suitcase out of the trunk,” he laughed, immediately reaching down to scoop one up in defense. “And in the back, no less!” He threw the snowball directly at your chest, with a thump. “Like a coward,” he smirked, throwing a second snowball he had formed at the same time as the first.

You gasped in shock, “oh now you're gonna GET IT!!!” You quickly bent down to create another frosty weapon, but when you looked up, he had started to run away through the snow.

“And I'm the coward!?” You bellowed, your voice echoing through the mountain air.

You began to toss another ball, but before the perfectly aimed shot hit him again, he dove to the side in the snow, dodging it narrowly and hiding behind a tree trunk.

He let out an evil cackle. “Good luck getting me now, baby!” You saw him peek around the tree before bending down to scoop some ammo.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck closer, hiding behind a shed and running around to the other side for a sneak attack.

“Babe? Where'd you go?” Pedro asked loudly.

Jumping out from your hiding place, you charged him, throwing four snowballs at him, one after the other.

He screamed, snow in his mouth, his hair, his shirt, his pants.

“You DEVIL!” He laughed before jumping up and chasing after you, tackling you into the fluffy powder below.

The snow at your back was freezing through your coat and pants, but with his warm body on top, pressed into you, you felt nice and toasty. It quickly lit a fire into you, and you pulled the collar of his thick jacket down towards you, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“I love you,” you smiled, breaking the kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He pecked your lips gently. “Even if you do play dirty.”

“It's not my fault you suck at snowball wars,” you grinned, your teeth beginning to chatter as the snow seeped through your clothing.

“Let's go inside,” he rolled over, grabbing your arm and pulling you up with him.

You walked into the cabin, taking off your wet clothes and quickly changing into some sweats and a hoodie.

Pedro changed as well, throwing on a flannel and gray sweatpants. You stared, eyeing him from head to toe as he grabbed some logs and a lighter before starting a fire. The fireplace was next to the plush loveseat, a fluffy rug on the floor in front of it. The chimney was made of gray rock and was easily one of the most gorgeous fireplaces you had ever seen. With the fire finally roaring, you sat on the couch, grabbing a large, thick blanket. Pedro settled in beside you, leaning back and pulling you into his chest before tucking the blanket gently around your bodies.

“Thank you for this,” you sighed, tilting your head back to kiss his lips before leaning against his shoulders.

“I needed this too,” he replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around your body.

With the fire crackling a few feet away and your boyfriend snuggled tightly against you, you felt your temperature warming. But unlike the other day, this heat felt right. The two of you chatted and cuddled, kisses sprinkled throughout, before eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x afab!reader #A! answers asks #A! answers requests #pedro pascal fluff

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southerngothicchic · 10 months

Text

Obedience

18+

"You're home," you sleepily say, as you feel someone sitting on the bed.

You turn towards him, facing the faint light from the bedside lamp, to see him unlacing his boots. He glances over his shoulder at you and smiles.

"How was your day?" You ask, as he stands to take off his clothes.

"Don't wanna talk about it," he replies, as he pulls his camo pants down his thighs.

"Oh, sorry, honey," you reply, as he takes off his shirt.

Once he's left in his white undershirt and boxers, he stands next to the bed, looking down at you affectionately. You have the covers pulled up to your chin and when he pulls them back he frowns.

"I thought I told you I wanted you to be naked when I got home..." he whines, his eyes taking in you wearing one of his shirts with panties peeking out underneath.

"You did, but it was so cold in here, that I curled up under the covers and evidently fell asleep," you explain, while cringing.

His expression softens as his eyes travel up your legs to the curvature of your ass.

"Its ok, baby," he smiles. "I know you're still getting used to the winters up here."

He then climbs into bed with you, pressing his body against yours.

"I don't know how you survive them year after year," you add, while he gazes at you, sweetly.

"Its just part of living here, after awhile, the cold doesn't really bother you anymore," he says, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck. "Missed you, baby..." he then breathes, against your skin.

"Missed you, too," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He starts sucking a lovebite into your skin. At first, you sigh when he roughly bites you, but he keeps biting a little too hard.

You whine his name, as you try to push him away. He doesn't budge, as he's obviously much stronger than you.

"Sorry, just want everyone to know you're mine," he breathes.

"But they already do, the whole town knows we're engaged," you then remind him.

"Yeah, but I see some of the looks you still get, and it makes me want to knock their teeth out," he says, with a scowl.

You smile and cradle his face, oddly flattered by his possessiveness.

"Speaking of," he begins, raising his head, so he can look into your eyes, "since you're gonna be my future wife, we need to work on your obedience-"

"My obedience?"

"Yeah, as my wife you'll need be dutiful and obey me..." he continues, matter of factly.

"Really? That's a bit archaic, don't you think?"

He furrows his brows in confusion as you roll your eyes.

"Old fashioned, I mean. Your dad really did a number on you, didn't he?"

"Don't bring him into this-"

"Its hard not to when you sound just like him," you snap, as he clenches his jaw.

"I don't want to get into this again, not tonight," he says, shaking his head. "I just...I just wish you would do as you're told..."

"Gator-"

He cuts you off by kissing you forcefully.

"Don't you want to make me happy?" He asks, against your lips.

"Of course I do."

"Then you'll do as I say," he growls, before sitting up.

You gaze up at him, wary.

"Strip for me," he adds, kneeling on the bed, next to you.

You glare at him for a moment, before slowly getting up, temporarily leaving the warmth of the bed. The slight chill in the air gives you goosebumps as you pull your shirt over your head. He licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. You then teasingly take your panties off, as his eyes follow your movements. He palms himself through his boxers as he hungrily looks you up and down.

He crawls to the side of the bed and sits, with his legs open, inviting you to stand between them. You take a step forward and his hands are immediately all over you.

"Fuck..." he sighs, as he doesn't know where to look. "So beautiful, baby."

He looks up at you, as you drape your arms around him. You lean down and press a filthy kiss to his lips, that has him moaning into it. You then move to straddle his lap.

"I think I've already been a good wife in training for you," you breathily begin, against his neck. "I mean, the house is always clean, dinner's always ready when you get home, there's a twelve pack of Mountain Dew in the fridge..." Your voice trails off as you press tantalizing kisses along his neck "...and, most importantly, I let you fuck me whenever you want."

He's already been reduced to a whimpering mess, as he swallows clumsily.

"That's pretty good, don't you think?" You ask, kissing your way up to his jaw.

He nods, while you subtly grind yourself against his clothed bulge. You press more kisses to his cheek, before he turns his head, connecting his lips to yours. His kiss is sloppy, lustful and you love it.

He then manhandles you onto your back, without breaking the kiss. He moves his hips just right against yours, making you whine into his mouth.

He pulls away, grinning. "You have been so good to me, baby... that's why I wanted you all for myself, you were meant to be my girl..."

You sigh his name as he sits up to pull his undershirt over his head. You reach up to run your hands over his chest, before he rolls off you to take off his boxers. He quickly climbs on top of you, nestling his hips between your legs. He smiles as you instinctively spread them for him.

"I can't wait to marry you, honey," he says, leaning in close so his nose brushes your cheek. "And make you mine forever."

You smile up at him, before he kisses you softly. His sudden vulnerability surprises you, though you welcome this side of him.

Your kisses turn needy as you feel him throbbing, aching to be inside you.

"Mmm, you want me, baby?" He purrs into a kiss.

"I want you..."

"Kiss me," he commands.

You pull him to you and kiss him hard, your tongue licking over his.

"Tell me you're my girl," he breathes, against your lips.

"I'm your girl," you whine, as his tip teases your entrance.

"Say it again," he instructs, nipping at your bottom lip.

"I'm yours, Gator," you breathe, while looking up at him, and smoothing your hand through his slicked back hair.

He smirks. "I knew you could be obedient after all...I think you deserve a reward..."

He then slides himself inside you with one harsh thrust, making your back arch and your lips part with a cry of his name.

"Keep sayin my name, baby, it's so hot," he breathes, while slowly thrusting his hips.

Elongated sighs of his name ring in his ears, as he keeps fucking you slow and deep.

"You feel so good, honey, you always do..." he pants, as he buries his face in your neck.

He presses kisses to your skin while your hands claw at his shoulders. Your lips are next to his ear as you breathily moan with each thrust. It only fuels his ego, knowing he's the one that has you like this. That you want him and only him. If he thinks about it too long, he'll blow his load too soon, so he focuses on kissing his way up to your lips.

"You love me, baby?" He then asks, as you look at him, dazed.

"You know I do," you reply, with your hands cradling his face.

"I wanna hear you say it," he says, nudging your nose with his.

"I love you," you breathe, pulling him in for a kiss.

He deepens it while moving his hips faster. You whimper into his kiss as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Yeah, you like that?" He teasingly asks, his lips curling into a smile.

You nod, as he leans up.

"Good, because I love fucking you like this."

His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer before he places your legs against his chest. He then grips your ankles as he gazes down at you.

You were already lost in a state of bliss you only experienced with him as you looked up at him. He then runs his hands down your legs to your hips. He holds you in place as he eases himself back into you. He then wastes no time setting a brutal pace. You cry his name again, throwing your head back against the pillow. It's like this every time with him, pleasure so intense you think you won't be able to stand it.

"Fuck, baby..." he pants, his hair now a sweaty mess, falling onto his forehead.

"You're gonna be a good little wife for me, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God..." you whine, as he repeatedly hits all the right spots.

"And you promise to love, honor and obey me? Always?" He continues, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust.

"Yes!" You cry, as tears stream down your cheeks.

He growls in response before lowering your legs, so he can lean over you. He kisses you deeply, breathing 'I love you's' into your mouth as you finally come undone around him. He keeps fucking you until he spills inside you, while moaning your name. His hips don't stop until he's given you every drop of him.

Panting, he rests his forehead against yours, as you each try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, I wanna marry you tomorrow, baby," he then rasps, his lips brushing your cheek.

"If only we could, but your dad would kill us if we didn't have a 'proper church wedding,'" you breathlessly remind him.

"I know, but I don't think I can wait until next year," he pouts, making you smile.

"You can, I mean you already know I'm yours, and we get to do this every night, so it's almost like we're already married," you offer, gazing at him sweetly.

"I guess..." he replies, sullen.

"My poor, lovesick boy..." you say, before pulling him into a kiss.

"Y'know, if you were to get pregnant, he'd insist on us getting married immediately..." he suggests, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head. "No, we already talked about that-"

"Aw, come on, honey," he teases. "I thought you wanted to make me happy?"

He tries to kiss you but you pull away.

"We're not having a shotgun wedding, Gator," you inform, as he frowns.

"Fine," he relents, pulling out of you and rolling onto his back, next to you.

"Maybe you can talk to your dad about moving the ceremony up," you suggest, curling into his side.

"I think you should be the one that talks to him, he likes you better anyway," he says, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you to him.

"Ok," you simply reply, not wanting to get into that argument tonight. "Hey..." you add, reaching up to tilt his face towards yours. "I love you."

His expression softens as he quickly moves to kiss you.

"I love you, too, baby."

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman smut

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steddiewithachance · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson, Bug Wrangler

(Cw: Spider. Not graphic or anything scary, this ficlet is all fluff) This is for @glitterfang, one of the most brilliant authors of our generation. To my dearest pizzabones, Happy Birthday Becca. Ily.

Eddie is cozied up on his brand new couch, covered in a pile of ridiculously soft blankets, reading a captivating fantasy novel he picked up from the library down the street. Warm light is spilling out from the lamp on the side table by his head and Eddie is... so happy. He fucking loves his new apartment. He fucking loves that he has an apartment in general but especially that he's living in said apartment with his high school crush turned boyfriend, Steve Harrington. Everything just feels so soft and good and safe for the first time in his life. He sinks further down into the cushions of the couch when he hears the shower turn off in the other room. He smiles to himself.

He has the perfect seat for a night like tonight. The apartment layout is a little confusing with the living room being in between the bathroom and the bedroom, but Eddie is not complaining. He's not complaining because it means Steve has to walk through the living room and pass by Eddie in nothing but a towel to get back to the bedroom. And Eddie will never get tired of that view.

Soon enough, the bathroom door opens and out walks the most beautiful goddamn man Eddie has ever laid his eyes on. Water droplets are falling from his hair to the hardwood floor and Steve looks up when he notices he's being watched. Eddie is peaking out from the top of his book, clearly hiding a smile.

"Oh hi there." Steve greets softly. He slows down on his walk to the bedroom.

"Hi."

"You come here often?" Steve jokes.

"Nope. First time, actually," Eddie lowers his book and gives Steve a once over, "I'm sight seeing."

Steve huffs and walks into their room calling out "Be right back." Eddie sighs contentedly and looks back down at his book wondering if it's worth trying to get back into it. From the bedroom, Eddie hears something small clatter to the ground followed by a loud inhale of breath. He's expecting Steve to say something. Anything.

"Babylove? You okay?" Eddie asks while sitting up, voice laced with concern. The room is silent for a moment before Steve walks backwards out of the bedroom in boxer briefs and a tshirt. He turns to face Eddie, face pale, while continuously glancing back into the room.

"What happened?" Eddie moves the blankets off his legs. He has literally never seen Steve nervous like this, not in the face of monsters and not in the face of dangerous men. It's making him nervous, himself.

"There's. Uhm." Steve quickly whips his head around to check the room again before sheepishly looking at Eddie. Eddie gets up and walks towards Steve. He puts a hand on the small of Steve's back and leans through the door frame expecting to see something that could have rendered Steve speechless. He sees a stick of deodorant on the floor.

"What?" Eddie asks quietly, lifting his hand to cradle Steve's cheek.

"It's embarrassing," Steve concedes, deflating.

"We're so past embarrassing, babe. Tell me what's wrong?" Eddie combs Steve's wet hair back with his fingers. Steve searches Eddie's eyes. For what? He's not sure. Judgement, maybe? When Steve finds only an openly concerned expression there, he buries his face in Eddie's neck.

"There's a spider." Steve whines, his voice being muffled by the fabric of Eddie's sweatshirt. And Eddie wants to laugh. He wants to laugh because this whole time he thought Steve was this fearless god of a man. Untouchable in every way. But he is so suddenly endeared that his boy is afraid of spiders. He doesn't laugh because he understands the fragile vulnerability that Steve is trusting him with in this moment.

"Oh baby, lets get him out of here! A free loader in our brand new apartment? I don't think so." Eddie moves back and kisses Steve sweetly on the forehead before ducking to meet his eyes. "Show me where he is?" And Steve's shoulders subtly loosen in relief, glad that he's not being made fun of or maybe glad that Eddie is willing to be the bug wrangler between the two of them.

"Hold on," Eddie turns and jogs into the kitchen where he grabs a glass and an open piece of mail.

"Hurry Eddie he's moving." Steve calls out and Eddie full on giggles.

When he walks into their bedroom, and god the novelty of sharing a bedroom with Steve Harrington will never, ever wear off, Eddie sees him staring at the wall right above their nightstand. Steve turns to him with a distressed expression and points at the wall uselessly. Eddie moves forward and places the glass on the wall around the little guy. He slips the paper under the glass and carefully brings the cup away from the wall.

"Give him a name before we kick him out so we know what to call him when we warn the neighbors about the dreaded trespasser." Eddie says holding the paper tight against the glass. He's trying to make the situation as light and playful as possible. Wants Steve to know there's no reason to be embarrassed. The corner of Steve's lip lifts slightly and Eddie is glad to see it.

"Ronald." Steve decides after some internal deliberation. He makes his way to the window and slides it open.

"Reagan?"

"Yeah. Ronald Reagan." Steve agrees with a smile. Eddie beams, pleased that Steve always plays along.

"Perfect name for such a heinous creature." Eddie responds while following him. Eddie lifts the paper off of the cup and shakes the cup out so that the spider falls onto the ledge a few feet below their window. "Fuck you Ronald Reagan!" Eddie shouts out the window. Steve lets out a surprised laugh and shushes Eddie. "Say it babe!" Eddie encourages. He sets the glass on the window seal and puts his arms around Steve's waist.

"You're gonna get us in trouble, Eds." Steve nuzzles into his cheek. Eddie frees one of his hands and puts his weight into closing the window.

"Thank you." Steve tacks on after Eddie has returned to holding him.

"Please, it's a given that I'm gonna protect my baby from war criminals" Eddie whispers pressing a kiss against his eyebrow. Eddie feels the small huffs of breath against his neck when Steve laughs softly.

"No, but really. Eddie. Thank you. For not making fun of me and just always making me feel-" Steve looks at the ground so he doesn't have to meet Eddie's eyes. "Safe. No matter what. I'm sorry that I'm kind of high maintenance."

"Hey! I think you are severely underestimating just how much I'm willing to do for you." Eddie pulls Steve closer and starts swaying them where they stand. Eddie admires the sight of the warm lamplight that haloes around Steve's head. "And for the record, you're not high maintenance at all. But it would be absolutely fine with me if you were." Eddie adds.

Steve's eyebrows furrow like he's working something out in his head. He doesn't understand how much he's loved. But that's fine, Eddie will keep working at it every day. Chiseling away at Steve's walls like the most patient and dedicated sculptor there ever was.

"Let me dry your hair for you, yeah?" Eddie asks pulling Steve back out towards the bathroom. Eddie expects Steve to say something like 'it's okay. I can do it' or 'Eddie... you don't have to.' But instead he says:

"Okay." Sweet and simple. Eddie will count that as a battle won in the war of "Getting Steve to understand his worth."

#steddie ficlet #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #ao3 #stranger things #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #fluff #eddie pov #steddie microfic

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pengweng-quack · 6 months

Text

Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Notes:

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

I genuinely forgot about posting Bloodbound for a hot minute lol whoops

Word Count: 2128 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: Smut (No penetration because we're not having another Bella situation)

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

They walked back to the bar, with Carlisle closing the tab for the night and paying for the drinks, tipping 50% which made Celine bite her lip in excitement. After getting his card back, they rushed out of the building hand in hand. Carlisle noticed that Rosalie’s car was outside, a silent reminder of the watchful eyes of their family. He took Celine to his car, opening the passenger seat door and letting her enter the car

“I’ll be fast, I promise.” Carlisle whispered to Celine, who only nodded in response. He left a quick peck on her lips before rushing to Rosalie’s car. He knocked on the window, wondering why they were there

“Do not even think of doing something with her tonight.” Rosalie threatened immediately as the window was going down “You’ll hurt her.”

“I do not intend on bedding her while she has alcohol in her system.” He half-lied, knowing that the alcohol in Celine’s system is already almost gone. He could smell her blood slowly going back to its same alluring scent, hinting that she was slowly sobering up

“The rogue vampire is gone.” Alice informed him “Just don’t mind the scent in her place for the time being. It’s…sickening.”

“I’ll remember that.” Carlisle nodded “Are the others gone now?”

“Yes. I told them to leave after they’ve remove the vampire in her place.” Esme answered “Good luck, I think you’ll need it.”

“Go home.” Carlisle said, rolling his eyes at them and going back to his car, where Celine was waiting patiently

“What happened?” Celine asked, the scent of alcohol was still evident in her and Carlisle is having a hard time with just sitting still

“They decided to come to enjoy the night out, thankfully, we’re about to leave too.” He informed her, pulling the seatbelt from her side and buckling it, his eyes on her. He was looking at her face, admiring the features the gods have graced her with

“Is there anything on my face?” Celine asked consciously, about to look at herself in the vanity mirror in his car

“No, you’re just really, really beautiful.” Carlisle whispered softly before starting his car. A smile on his face as he drives back to her place

It was quiet, Carlisle was reaching for the gearshift when he accidentally touched Celine’s thighs. He heard her jolt up in shock making him quickly pull away from the gearshift, scared that he’s made her uncomfortable.

“It’s alright, I was just shocked.” Celine assured him

Her house was coming in sight. Alice wasn’t lying when she said that the scent was sickening. Carlisle couldn't ignore the scent that permeated the air. It was a nauseating mixture of alcohol, human blood, and the unmistakable stench of vomit. He’s happy that Celine couldn’t smell it, he’d rather save her of dealing with scents like these

Rosalie’s voice was echoing in her head “Do not even think of doing something with her tonight.” He could hear her threats. Carlisle understood that she meant well, and that she was right in this discussion. The memory of Edward's unintentional harm to Bella served as a stark reminder of the dangers inherent in their world.

‘What assurance did I have that I won’t do the same with Celine? What assurance did I have that I’ll be able to control myself?’ He thought, scared of seeing Celine hurt because of him

As Carlisle parked the car in front of Celine's house, a sense of resolve settled within him. He knew what needed to be done. With purposeful strides, he swiftly exited the car and made his way to the passenger seat, where Celine was just about to step out.

She grabbed his hand, pulling him into her house. Without hesitation, he allowed himself to be led, his steps quickening as they made their way into her bedroom. Carlisle lifted her up in his arms, cradling her bridal style as he carried her to the bed. Reaching her bed, Carlisle made him and Celine fall on the bed, a small ‘thud’ and a bounce getting them to giggle.

Celine positioned herself on his lap, pulling him closer for a kiss. It was deep, it was heavy, it was filled with desire. Her desire to feel him. She could feel him get harder, so she started slowly grinding. Carlisle pulled away, letting out a grunt before pulling her for another make out, only this time, his hands were exploring the curves of her body.

She took matters into her own hands, slowly removing his polo shirt, leaving a trail of kisses along his neck as she unbuckled his pants to lift the shirt over his head. Carlisle whimpered under her affectionate touch, his desire evident in every breath. With each kiss, Celine felt herself growing increasingly aroused. She pulled away, finally removing his top

“Need to please you.” Carlisle murmured as Celine’s hands were tracing down his torso, her eyes filled with seduction as he admires him. He wished that he had Edward’s powers at that moment to know what she was thinking about

‘What a masterpiece.’ Celine thought, seeing Carlisle's toned body. Her suspicion was right, he did take care of his physique, and she was blessed to see him like that

Carlisle gently laid Celine down and positioned himself over her, his hands delicately tracing the curves of her waist as he crawled onto the bed. With deliberate care, he began to play with the hem of her blouse, gradually removing it to grant himself greater access to her skin.

“You are divine. A masterpiece carved by the gods above.” Carlisle whispered, indulging himself as he left shallow bite marks on Celine's shoulders, his words an ode to her beauty. Each mark elicited soft whimpers of pleasure from her lips, igniting a symphony of desire between them

Carlisle tenderly explored Celine's shoulders and neck, marking her skin with gentle kisses that elicited moans of pleasure. With deliberate care, he trailed his fingers down to her legs, lifting her skirt and removing the barrier of her panties, eager to continue bestowing pleasure upon his beloved mate.

"Carlisle," Celine moaned softly, her plea laced with desire. "No teasing.”

"I have no intention of teasing you, my love," Carlisle assured, his fingers deftly caressing the growing wetness between Celine's thighs "I simply wish to savor every moment with you."

"Carlisle, please," Celine breathed out, her voice filled with urgency. Carlisle chuckled at her reaction; he hadn't even begun, yet Celine was already pleading

Carlisle gently slid two fingers inside her, giving Celine a moment to adjust to the sensation. She moaned, arching her back in response. Sensing her readiness and just how needy she already is, he abandoned his slow pace, opting instead to quicken the rhythm of his fingers thrusting in and out of her. Simultaneously, he brought his mouth to her clit, skillfully heightening her pleasure with each tantalizing touch.

"Carlisle," Celine breathed out, her racing heartbeat audible to him, indicating her nearing climax.

"Yes, my love?" Carlisle responded, withdrawing from her clit, a trail of saliva lingering as he used his other hand to heighten her pleasure.

"So close." She managed to mutter amidst deep pants.

"I'm aware." He replied calmly, maintaining the rhythm of his hands on her.

It didn’t take long for Celine to cry out his name, her back arching in pleasure as Carlisle continued the steady rhythm of his fingers on her. He even returned to her clit, using his mouth to stimulate her sensitive, freshly-orgasmed pussy

"C-Carlisle!" Celine squealed, grasping a handful of his hair as she grinded her pussy against his face. Carlisle welcomed her enthusiasm, releasing his hands from her and encircling her thighs, ensuring she remained in place.

Carlisle decided that he was gonna force a few more orgasm out of her before calling it a day, a perfect alibi in his mind already. He didn't need his vampiric senses to discern that she was nearing climax once more. Celine's fervent whimpers of his name resonated through the air like sacred incantations as her back arched in pleasure, instinctively tightening her hold on his hair, her fingers gripping the strands with increasing fervor

"Carlisle, I'm cumming!" Celine yelled, instinctively thrusting her hips. Carlisle gently pushed her back down, determined to ride out her orgasm before withdrawing from her.

“Think you can handle a bit more?” Carlisle teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he slid his two fingers back inside her. He watched with satisfaction as Celine's eyes rolled back in pleasure, soft whimpers escaping her lips.

“Oh my god,” Celine breathed out, her pleas for more barely audible amidst the moans

Carlisle chuckled and increased his pace, driven by the desire to get another orgasm from her. He placed his other hand on her clit, rubbing his fingers around to stimulate her more.

He was addicted to her every whimpers and her every moan, wanting to do everything in him to push more out of her

He was growing more addicted to her.

"I can't quite hear you, could you say it louder for me, my love?" Carlisle teased, curling his fingers inside her, eliciting a louder moan from Celine.

“I’m getting close.” Celine stuttered out, her chest heaving with each pant

“How close?” Carlisle only asked, making sure to settle his pace on one that could get Celine on her orgasm

“So close, please.” Celine whimpered, her hands gripping the bedsheets tightly

"Do you think you can hold on until I give you permission?" Carlisle asked softly, his other hand resting on her waist, his thumb tracing circles on her skin

“So close— can’t anym-m—

Celine's sentence was cut off as she succumbed to another orgasm, her pussy pulsating around Carlisle's fingers. He maintained his pace until Celine rested her hand on his, gently pushing his hands away, signaling that she had reached her limit.

“How was it, my love?” Carlisle asked her, pulling his fingers out looking at her flushed face. She was panting, and anyone would clearly be able to see just how used she had been

‘To think that it’s just been three orgasms’ Carlisle thought to himself, chuckling as Celine catches her breath

“How about you?” Celine asked, sitting up and gazing at him with concern “This was for the both of us, not just me.”

“Do not worry about me. All I want is for today to be about you.” Carlisle assured her, moving to sit beside Celine and gently pushing the strands of hair that had become damp with sweat away from her “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“Stay the night?” Celine asked, looking at him with hopeful eyes

He kissed her forehead tenderly in response, getting up from her bed and going to what he assumed was her closet. He grabbed some clothes for her to wear and brought it back to the bed. He grabbed a clean cloth and went to her bathroom, wetting the cloth and wringing it for it to be damp. Coming back to her, she was about to grab the shirt to wear when he stopped her

“Let me take care of you.” Carlisle whispered softly, his voice filled with tenderness “Please.”

Celine only nodded, allowing Carlisle to make her wear the shirt that he’s gotten for her. He soon followed to carefully pull down her skirt and panties, wiping the dried wetness in between her legs and inner thighs before helping her wear some house shorts.

Observing how Celine was now ready for bed, Carlisle hesitated momentarily before removing his own pants, leaving him in just his boxers. As he settled beside her, he initially felt uncertain, but eventually relaxed, allowing Celine to rest her head on his chest.

“Carlisle?” Celine called quietly, Carlisle let out a hum as response, focusing on matching her breathing “Will things have to come back to how it was after today?”

“My love, if you wish to come back to how we were before today, then we will.” Carlisle answered, looking at her “I just wish to make you happy, that’s all.”

Celine only hummed in reply. She wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to hear his heartbeat to help her fall asleep. Unable to find the familiar rhythm, her mind began to churn with thoughts of the unmistakable signs that hinted at Carlisle's non-human nature. Each revelation felt like a sudden realization, hitting her like a brick to the face.

The cold skin…

The golden eyes…

The non-existent heartbeat…

“Carlisle?” Celine asked again, sitting up and looking at him intently. It was most definitely gonna be her end, but she needed to ask it to him

“Yes, my love?” Carlisle asked, sitting up as well

“You’re not human, are you?”

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 1 year

Note

Hello ! Eh could you May write a minho x reader (the maze runner ofc bc I'm currently obsessed and I love your writing) we're he and reader have a cute lil picknick date in the savehaven bc happy endings are deserved

Happy endings are most definitely deserved. Also, the line between cuteness and cheesiness was definitely blurred with this one. Hope you enjoy!

First date

Minho x gender neutral!reader

Set post-tdc

Scrolling through pinterest for these photos is incredibly fun but also the most offensive slap in the face as a single person TT

Also, Newt is alive!

Warnings: language

He's been planning for weeks.

You know this because no matter how subtle he tries to be, you've seen the way he's been throwing you weird looks and acting uncharacteristically skittish and suspicious ever since you got to the Safe Haven.

He'd asked you earlier that day (Mr. oh so casual and cool), caught your hand before going off to work. "Y/n, can I take you to dinner tonight?"

As prepared and expectant as you thought you were, you'd just stuttered out a surprised yes and stood there blushing as he grinned and walked away.

But now he's standing in your open door, and you know that this is the moment he's been planning for weeks.

You drink in the sight of him, framed by the sunset behind, and you can tell that the smile on his face is nervous, despite how well he's hiding it.

"Hey," you say, running a self conscious hand through your hair. The Safe Haven is a place for refuge, and doesn't have much in terms of fancy clothes, so you're dressed in a plain long-sleeved shirt and... you're reluctant to say you're wearing sweatpants to a date, but they're pretty much sweatpants.

Minho's dressed similarly, just a grey T-shirt (likely to make you panic over his arms) and a jacket slung over his shoulder, presumably in case it gets cold later.

Still, he gazes at you like you hung the moon, and says in the most genuine, sincere tone, "You look beautiful."

Fuck. "Thanks," you manage to say. "You do too."

Minho smirks. "I know."

"God-" you huff out a breath, rolling your eyes and pushing him out the door.

He nudges you with his shoulder, grinning at you, and you let out a laugh, relaxing instantly. You can read it in his eyes; it's just me. The one person in the world you're most comfortable with.

"Darling?" he says smoothly, offering you his arm with a cocky grin on his face.

Your heartrate picks up, but you simply raise an eyebrow at him. Two can play at that game. You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and lift onto your toes to whisper in his ear. "Let's go, baby."

You smirk at the flustered expression that crosses his face, before he recovers and starts to lead you forward. "Let's."

So, you and Minho... technically haven't had a first date yet.

You got together after escaping the Maze and WCKD, your first kiss being a searing, desperate, we-almost-got-killed-by-zombies crush of mouths. From then, you haven't had the chance to go on a proper date.

Basically, you have no idea what to expect as he leads you to Newt and Thomas' hut.

Minho shoots you quick smile as he knocks on the hut door, which immediately opens.

You're greeted by twin smirks, before Thomas disappears into the hut with Minho, who squeezes your hand and gives a quick "back in a sec".

"Any idea what he's got planned for you?" asks Newt, leaning on the door frame.

"Not a clue," you reply. "You got anything to share?"

"Can't spoil it, sorry," says Newt, shrugging.

He glances over his shoulder. "Look, I've got about five seconds now where I could give you the shovel talk, but I really don't think you, or Minho, need that, so I'm just gonna give you this: You guys are perfect together. Have fun, yeah?"

You huff out a laugh, ducking your head. "We will. Thanks, Newt."

He nods at you as the other boys come back, and your eyes drop to the picnic basket clutched in Minho's hand. "What-"

Minho chuckles at your widened eyes. "Come on, we're going to the beach."

⭒----⭒

"Minho, this is amazing," you say incredulously, staring at the picnic spread out in front of you. There's a blanket thrown over the sand, with food boxes and drinks resting on it. Plus, a lantern sits in the centre, casting a warm glow over your faces.

"You like it?" asks Minho, a smile tugging at his lips.

You nestle closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "It's perfect. I love it."

Time floats by as the two of you talk and eat, watching the sunset and trying to stop the napkins flying away in the breeze (you have to slap a hand over them, and Minho nearly knocks over a drink catching the one that escapes your grasp, and neither of you can stop giggling; yes, giggling).

"Here, just pack it all in the basket."

"Yeah- shit, where'd it go?"

"I've got it," says Minho, tossing the cups in.

You place the picnic basket behind you, on one of the corners of the blanket.

"Hang on," you mutter. You grab a couple more rocks to weigh down the blanket so the corners stop flicking up. "Fuck- shit," you shake your head as the sand flies into your face, and you groan to yourself as you brush it off.

You drop the last rock into place, dusting off your palms and nodding at your handiwork, before turning and- oh.

Minho's sitting back, hands braced under his shoulders, with the softest, fondest, most tender expression on his face. Just... watching you.

You smile self-consciously, and he shakes his head, face breaking into a smile. He sits forward, raising his hands and opening his arms in a 'come here' gesture, and you oblige immediately, melting into him.

"I love you," he whispers, lips pressing against your head.

You lift your eyes to meet his, nudging your noses together. "I love you too," you reply softly, before capturing his lips in a kiss.

You push him down gently, rolling over on top so you can slot your mouth over his, one hand cupped around his face as he loops his arms around you to pull you closer.

He tastes like sea air, and the sweet cordial you were drinking earlier, and home.

"Wait, wait."

You let out a small noise as Minho breaks the kiss, pulling away.

"I had one more surprise planned for tonight," he tells you, reaching into a hidden box.

You watch curiously as he hooks up a speaker and turns on a small screen.

Minho grins at you as his finger hovers over a 'play' button on the screen.

"You didn't," you breathe.

"I did," he responds.

"Minho, how'd you even find-"

You stop speaking as light instrumental music fills your ears, and you close your eyes as the present blurs into the past.

"We look stupid."

"I really don't care."

Bare feet whisper through the grass as you join hands with Minho.

You step through the sand, taking Minho's hand.

"I mean, I did promise you."

"I'll get you music next time, trust me."

"It's okay, just dance with me now."

Two figures spin in the darkness, moving with no rhythm, no song playing to guide.

Minho's face glows in the lamplight, and he twirls you as the music swells.

He catches you in his arms as you spin back to him, and you tip your head up so you're nose to nose.

Then you're kissing, arms wrapping around each other as the water sweeps up around your ankles.

"This is perfect," you murmur. "You're perfect."

Minho laughs softly. "Nah, that's you, sweetheart."

IM BACK TY FOR WAITING

#the maze runner #tmr minho #minho x reader #minho x you #tmr minho x reader #my writing

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tj-dragonblade · 11 months

Text

[FIC] The Beauty of the Beast

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 3153 Tags: Top Hob, Bottom Dream, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, werewolf Hob, rough sex, mildly rough and very enthusiastic on all counts, werewolf, werewolf sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, knotting, wolf sex, for just a minute

Notes: We're a touch late for everything this was meant to be a part of, shh. Written for: Smoctober day 1, full moon Smoctober day 10, scenting Smoctober day 13, claws Monsterfucktober bingo, were-creature square Dreamling Nation House of Horrors, making out prompt And also pulling in Smoctober day 16, in the woods

Summary: Recently-turned werewolf Hob wants to protect Dream from this new side of him. Dream is. Not interested in being protected.

On AO3

~~~ "Moon's coming up soon."

The words are muffled against Dream's throat, followed by the faint drag of teeth; Dream shivers. "Yes."

"It's full, tonight." The wet warmth of Hob's tongue follows behind his teeth this time, and Dream purrs.

"Yes."

"You should—you should go."

The way Hob is clutching at Dream belies his words, and Dream's mouth turns down in a smug little moue of disagreement. "I think not."

Hob whines. "It's not—you know I'm happy to see you, always, I just—" His hands paw at Dream's waist, seeking skin beneath the layers and layers of sheer silk that make up Dream's robes. "Just…can't…"

Clearly his instincts are warring with his capacity for words, and Dream is moved to help. "This is only your second moon, since being turned."

"Yes, right, and it's—I'm not very good at—at controlling everything yet. I don't…I don't want you to see me like that."

"Hob." Dream cards gentle fingers through Hob's sweaty hair, cradles him close. "I am not in the habit of casting judgment upon you, not in all our centuries of acquaintance. Do not think me so callous as to start now."

Hob shudders, noses hotly from Dream's shoulder to his ear, breathing him in the whole way. "I might—hurt…I don't want to hurt you."

Dream threads his other hand into Hob's hair as well, guides Hob's eager mouth up the length of his throat and over his chin, tightens his grip and pulls Hob's head back until their eyes meet. "You cannot harm me, Hob Gadling, nor can you. Hurt me, in any way that matters." Hob's eyes are dark with lust, with the shadow of his impending transformation, and something in Dream thrills to the sight. "I would have you share this new facet of yourself with me, that I might know all of the ever-changing man who lays claim to my heart."

The noise Hob makes at that is very canine, a whimpering sort of whine, and he buries his face in the crook of Dream's neck again, inhaling shamelessly.

"Do you know how incredible you smell?" He's nosing into Dream's hair, panting, clutching at Dream's ribs.

"Tell me," Dream breathes, enchanted by this side of Hob, the rapid waning of his inhibitions by the moment.

"Always smelled good," says Hob, nosing down the side of his neck, kissing his bare shoulder where his robes have slipped. "But now it's so much more. Soft sheets n' clean air. Starlight." His parted lips trace over Dream's skin, back up behind his ear, and Hob inhales again. "Winter skies. When the moon is rising an' the frost's like diamonds in the trees."

"Such poetry, Hob Gadling," Dream breathes, and pulls Hob's head up and around to kiss him.

It is a thing of heat and urgency, this meeting of their mouths; Hob whines, surging forward, Dream pushing back, deftly avoiding the nip of Hob's teeth, biting lightly at Hob's lips in return. He coaxes Hob's tongue into play, stoking the fires of arousal between them until he feels near to combusting from the fervor of Hob's attentions.

"Wanna fuck you," Hob slurs, all breathless raw lust and desperate unfiltered passion as Dream finally draws back from the kiss.

"I should be gravely disappointed if you did not," he agrees, a gasping acquiescence, vanishing his robes for the sake of having Hob's hands upon him faster.

"But I'm about t'change, I can't—" Hob shudders all over, head to toe, hands splaying over Dream's narrow naked back despite himself. "You want me like that? You don't mind I'll get…feral?"

"Do you think, truly, that the king of nightmares would disdain the affections of a werewolf, whatever his state of transformation?" Dream presses himself up against Hob, groin to chest, pushes his hips brazenly forward and pulls one of Hob's hands to grip his arse, to indicate to Hob that he should take such liberties himself. "Feel, how you arouse me, how I want you—"

With a whine, Hob seizes the backs of both thighs and yanks them apart, lifting Dream up and around him, and Dream is. Delighted, to note the thrill that runs through him to be manhandled thus. His arms have wrapped behind Hob's neck already and he dives in for another kiss, eager, demanding.

Hob meets him with tongue, with teeth, the promise of devouring in the growl that rises in his throat, and then Hob is turning, stumbling forward; he throws Dream onto the bed with a soft bounce and crawls after, panting, trembling.

The moon is nearly cresting the horizon.

Dream opens his legs, wide, inviting Hob between them. "Take off your clothing, that it might be spared—" He is tugging at the hem of Hob's t-shirt, yanking it up and off over Hob's head, and then Hob falls upon him as he is attempting the confounded buttons of Hob's jeans. Hob's mouth is hot and wet and desperate, mauling Dream's with delicious fervor; Dream manages to open Hob's fly at last and immediately he plunges a hand inside, beneath underwear, seizes the hard length of Hob's cock with a groan.

Hob cries out, gasping, rutting into Dream's fist until Dream lets go, grasping at the opened trousers and wrestling them down Hob's beautiful hairy thighs. Hob drops his face to Dream's chest, mouthing at his skin with abandon and wriggling to help be rid of his jeans, kicking them off at last and grabbing Dream's arms, pushing them up over his head. Dream stares back with challenge and invitation simmering in his gaze, but Hob has buried his face in Dream's chest again, inhaling deeply and moving over a nipple with a passing lick, dipping down to scent up the side of Dream's rib cage to under his lifted arm, where he laves his tongue in long licks.

"Want you," he whimpers, eyes fever bright when they turn to meet Dream's from that vantage. "God, Dream, I want you so bad—"

"Then have me, Hob Gadling." Dream's own want shivers through him, prick throbbing where the hair of Hob's belly drags against it, and he is bereft at this point of all but the thinnest veneer of patience and pride. "Have me as you wish to; let the moon shape you anew and sate your appetites upon me—"

A sliver of moonlight spears through the window and Hob rears up, head thrown back, lets out a fearsome cry as his form shifts. His arms and legs go sleek and sinewy, claws growing in on his fingers and toes; the hair on his body thickens and spreads into proper fur, rich and golden brown. His cock juts proudly between his thighs, glistening dusky red and dripping, and he has sprouted a tail which bobs eagerly behind him as he falls forward again, caging Dream between his arms. His hair is longer, shaggier, ears tapering up into tufted points; his face is somewhat elongated, velvety fur along the burgeoning shape of a muzzle, nose keen and twitching, sharp teeth bared in excitement. And his eyes—

They are still Hob's eyes, dark and warm beneath the feral veneer, and they still burn with want of him.

"Hob, my Hob—" Dream wraps eager legs around Hob's body, draws Hob in to where he has made himself slick and open and ready, and Hob slides easily home with a whine. His hips move on instinct, immediately finding a rhythm until he is fucking with glorious abandon, and Dream arches his head back, moans his pleasure, digs his heels into the sleek fur of Hob's buttocks. Hob's tail brushes his toes intermittently; Hob's clawed fingers rake over his skin, clutching, possessive, soft pink lines rising along Dream's arms and ribs in their wake. Dream reaches up, buries his hands in the thick glory of Hob's mane and kisses his jagged mouth, tongue skirting the dangerous teeth with ease.

He caresses the soft velvet tip of Hob's ear and Hob tilts into it, needy noises spilling from him as he breaks the kiss; he licks a stripe up the length of Dream's throat, bites at his chin, tucks his reshapen face into the crook of Dream's neck, scenting him as before.

"Smell good," Hob manages, voice a guttural fractured shadow of his usual tones but lavishing the same ardent praise upon Dream, who thrills at the duality of it. Hob is still fucking him with delightful abandon; he rises up, leans back on his knees—knees which are still more human than canine—and grasps Dream firmly by the hips, careful with his claws. The full moon through the window casts the golden tones of his fur in molten highlight, magnificent to behold as he towers above Dream. He pulls Dream down onto himself in the same motion as he's thrusting in, and the deep jolt of pleasure has Dream's head lashing back, voice rising, back arching. He lets his arms fall above his head, the picture of passive debauchery even as his legs clench and shift about Hob, heightening Hob's rhythm, and when Hob speeds up just a little bit Dream cries out as orgasm tears through him like wildfire.

Hob grunts his satisfaction as Dream comes down from it, draws out despite the fact he clearly has not yet come. He shuffles about, clawed hands careful as they push Dream higher along the bed until Hob can dip to the mess on Dream's stomach. He laps it up, cool nose and warm tongue going everywhere—Dream's abdomen, the spent length of his cock, his testicles and the creases of his thighs. Dream arches into the attentions, already wanting for more, petting restlessly through Hob's hair as Hob finishes cleaning him up.

"Taste good," Hob says, looking up, overlong tongue curling across his semi-canine nose and licking his own short muzzle clean. He rises up and his claws grasp Dream's hips, and there's a sound in his throat halfway between growl and purr with nothing of humanity in it. It is clear in his demeanor that he wishes to resume fucking; it his clear in his eyes that he wishes assurance that Dream is amenable to whatever happens next. "Dream—" His claws flex, grip tighter.

His name spoken in that gutteral, primal voice swells the currents of want within Dream, makes him ache with need. He pushes up on one elbow, reaches to caress Hob's face with tender desperation, thumb running soft and restless over the fine fur, reaching to stroke behind his pricked-up ear. "Do as you please with me, beloved," he pants, keyed up, fraught with anticipation. "I am at your mercy, I submit to your ardor, willingly—"

And abruptly he finds himself thrown onto his front, lifted and turned and tossed down again so swiftly as to seem instantaneous, with Hob heavy atop him, pressing him into the bed. He is not rough, precisely, but neither is he gentle; his hands are all over Dream, grasping, claws pricking. His breath huffs hot against the back of Dream's neck, followed by his tongue, which then travels in lapping strokes down the knobs of Dream's spine to his open hole. Hob noses into him with an eager huff and Dream whimpers, clutches at the bedclothes and spreads his legs wider. Hob licks at him enthusiastically, little grunts and whines of delight, claws pricking at the backs of his thighs as he presses them still further open; his thumbs brush along their soft inner curves, claws gentle, and Dream is left trembling with want at the perfect balance of care and danger implicit in that touch.

He whines, bereft, when Hob at last abandons his hole and licks back up, up, until Hob is looming over him and setting first tongue and then teeth to the nape of his neck, a careful scrape that makes him shudder, makes him moan, makes him beg.

"Hob—please—"

Hob rises up, plants one clawed hand between Dream's shoulder blades, presses him down with a breathless growl. His cock bumps along the cleft of Dream's arse and Dream shudders, ready, wanting, his patience spent. Hob's hips move, the tip of his prick nudging at Dream's hole and Dream whines, trembling, thighs spread as wide around Hob's splayed knees as they will go. His voice spills from him, short and desperately eager.

"Have me—take me—Hob, please—" Hob's cock slides swiftly into him all at once, all the way to the hilt, and Dream gasps a short shuddering moan, squirms fruitlessly in pursuit of more. "Be ruthless in your use of me, Hob, my Hob—!"

Hob is nothing if not obedient.

Dream surrenders readily to the molten relief of finally being well and thoroughly fucked face down in Hob's bed, one of Hob's clawed hands gripping the back of his neck and the other laced with his own from behind; he gladly allows himself to be pinned thus. His face is mashed sideways into the pillow, muffling his open-mouthed cries somewhat; his hips are pushed up to welcome every fierce thrust, open and greedy, wanton in his need to let Hob claim and consume him. He struggles experimentally, mewling like prey; Hob's clawed grip clenches tight on his neck and the snarl that tears out of Hob's throat nearly has Dream coming again.

Hob somehow increases the ferocity of his thrusts and Dream trembles in his implacable hold, giving voice to his pleasure as Hob slams into him again and again and again, crying out as Hob moves faster, harder. It is exquisite, everything, a savagely beautiful inferno kindling within him, roaring to life in a glorious conflagration of possession, of claiming, of lust and want fulfilled.

He will feel Hob deep in the core of him for days.

It is precisely what he wishes.

He knows full well that he will not last, not in the face of Hob's primal vigor; indeed, all too soon he is verging on climax and frustratingly, exhilaratingly, there is absolutely nothing he can do about it. Hob pins him down and pounds him inexorably up to the precipice and then over into the throes of orgasm, continues relentlessly as Dream shakes and sobs with it, fucks him mercilessly through it such that his eyes are streaming with the sharpness of his pleasure and his voice has gone ragged, hoarse. He thrashes in Hob's grip, crying out breathlessly, body spasming around Hob's pistoning cock again and again; Hob pins him all the more firmly, fucks him snarling and growling all the harder until he is coming again, helpless, screaming and overwrought, mindless in his pleasure and soaking the pillow with his tears and saliva.

And then, and then Hob comes, at long last, howling to the heavens, and the heat of his spend flooding into Dream is exquisite; the way his body swells to keep them locked together after is the most precious and priceless sensation that Dream can imagine. He sobs and squeezes himself tight around it, unable not to, still shaking, and revels at the feel of yet more spend jetting weakly into him, oozing from Hob as Dream clenches hard on his knot and bears down again and again to milk him dry.

Hob collapses to his side at last, Dream caught close up against his velvety chest, furry-sinewy arms wrapped about Dream's ribs and stomach. He noses contentedly into Dream's hair, snuffling his scent, and Dream lies fucked out and slack and blissfully content, the fullness of Hob swollen within him, lets all of his disparate thoughts drift idly together, slowly coming back to himself.

He is not offended when Hob falls asleep still tied inside him, wrapped possessively around him. He is the Shaper of Forms. It would be less than a thought to shift himself free of the knot, out of Hob's lax hold, to return to his own realm and find Hob there.

He waits it out, content in Hob's embrace, warm, sated, coveted and treasured.

When nature has run its course and Hob's cock at last shrinks from within him, Dream slips free of Hob's corded and clawed arms and out of the bed, turns and leans over Hob's half-shifted form, presses a kiss to the furry slope of his forehead. "Sleep, Hob," he murmurs, breathing his power into it, and Hob's body loses all tension, transforms smoothly and quietly into his full wolf shape. He snuffles into the pillow with a little whine, still deeply asleep; Dream gives him another kiss, this one brushed to his snout, letting Dream's scent waft into his twitching nose. Hob snuffles again, contentedly, and Dream draws up the bedclothes to where Hob can easily reach them when he changes back in the morning. Dream has seen the vague shape of Hob's worries in nightmares, of running rampant, of causing harm; his power will ensure that Hob sleeps soundly through the night, at home and at peace.

He expects to find Hob in his usual human shape when he slips naked back into the Dreaming with the leavings of their lovemaking leaking from his body, but it is Hob's full wolf form that greets him—whining happily, tail wagging, nosing eagerly between Dream's legs to lick at the mess spilling down his thighs. Clearly Hob's appetites are yet unsated, as Dream had hoped, and Dream entertains the thought of kneeling for him just like this, of allowing Hob in wolf form to mount him and claim him while he yet wears his human shape.

But such privilege, he knows, is sweeter if one is made to work for it.

He shapes himself as a wolf, then, sleek and night-shaded where Hob is broad-chested and finely colored, and drops to all fours while Hob is still nosing about his genitals, eagerly scenting and licking. He draws away, presents his backside with tail raised in invitation; he allows Hob a few licks of interest there, where the remnants of their waking tryst have left him wet and open and ready. But when Hob sets paws about his flanks and moves to mount him he jumps away, flicks his tail lightly across Hob's snout and dashes off, checking over his shoulder to see that Hob follows.

Hob is leaping after him in an instant, jaws grinning open; Dream shoots into the underbrush and races deep into the dense woods of Hob's dreamscape, thrilling to the sounds of Hob's pursuit. He leads him a satisfying chase, always barely out of reach among the trees just ahead, tantalizing, a tease, and when Hob howls with exhilaration, Dream echoes him in kind. And when at last he allows Hob to catch him, to wrestle him to the ground with teeth clamped in the fur of his neck, to mount him and fuck him and knot him again, the surrender is all the sweeter for having been earned.

=== Started: 10/13/23 Drafted: 10/31/23 Posted: 11/2/23

Title from the Nightwish song of the same name: You told I had the eyes of the wolf Search them and find The Beauty of the Beast

#TJs Fics #Sandman #Dreamling #monsterfucktoberbingo #dnhouseofhorrors #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #Werewolf AU #or well not exactly AU #assumes Hob got turned into a werewolf sometime after the meeting at the New Inn #and after he and Dream get together #wip: werehob

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