#all american x reader

[bumblesimagines]

Olivia Baker 

a lot of things have happened since we broke up.

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

i'll regret saying this, but i still have love for you.

a lot of things have happened since we broke up.

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

i'll regret saying this, but i still have love for you.

Pronouns: They/Them/Their, Gender Neutral!Reader

"Let me guess," Spencer spoke up suddenly, fingers unscrewing the cap of a cool water bottle. You lifted your head, dragging your eyes away from your laptop and onto the boy in question. You'd hardly had any time to get to know the newest football team member despite having a brother and a best friend on the team, and now that'd you gotten assigned to him for a project, you wished you'd introduced yourself sooner. 

"Are you going to psychoanalyze me again, Spencer?" You asked with a small grin. "Maybe you should become a therapist."

"Uh-huh." He chuckled and shook his head, taking a few gulps of his water before setting it aside and bracing his arms on the island counter. Spencer squinted at you playfully and rubbed his fingers over his chin. "Coach and Mrs. Baker looked surprised when you showed up, which makes me think you know their family more than you let on." 

A quiet chuckle escaped you and you nodded, gazing back at your laptop. Your eyes skimmed the words but your mind drifted elsewhere, somewhere back in the past that part of you wanted to let go of. "Yeah, you... you could say I know them pretty well. I, uhm... I used to-" 

"Hey, Spencer, Mom wanted to know if you-" Olivia's voice rang through the kitchen, her eyes locked on her phone until she lifted her head and cut herself off mid-sentence. Her mouth remained partly open and her attention locked firmly onto you, a million different expressions shifting through her face until it settled on a somber, longing look. You forced yourself to look back at the laptop, briefly glancing up at Spencer.

"Oh, I get it now. I'll, uh... I'm going to use the bathroom real quick. You two should... chat." Spencer said, closing the textbook beside him and slipping out of the kitchen before you could say anything to him. You clamped your lips together and took a deep breath, rubbing the side of your neck and accepting the situation. 

"I... I didn't know you were friends with Spencer." Olivia spoke first, voice soft and unsure, and she walked closer to the island, keeping some space between you and her as she sat down on one of the stools. "He's pretty cool, right? Really sweet, too. You guys would get along great."

"Yeah, yeah, he is. We're just working on a project together, that's all." You'd like to say you hardly remembered the last time you spoke to Olivia but the memory of the screaming match that'd led to the breakup had been engrained in your head for ages. You pursed your lips, tilting your head toward her to take her in. She looked healthier, happier, and much better than the girl who'd been hauled off to rehab after spiraling. "You look really good, Liv. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, (Y/N). I- A lot of things have happened since we broke up, as you can tell." Olivia chuckled, gesturing in the direction Spencer had slinked off in. Her gaze dropped onto the island counter, the sad smile on her face lightly tugging at your heartstrings. "But, I'm... I'm better now. Better enough to realize that I hurt you, and I'm really sorry for how things ended between us. And maybe I'll regret saying this, but I still have love for you. I miss you, (Y/N). I miss us."

[cloveroctobers]

heyy! first of all i love your content, and if you still write for all american could you write for chris or darnell?

CHRIS JACKSON x READER / Spring Prompts!

A/N: thank you sweet anon! I know you asked for this months ago but yeah I still write for all american…just certain characters now lol. I’m also making a attempt to write for the AA homecoming characters so if anybody is interested? Stay tuned! Also the lack of gifs for this man (and Darnell) is trash and such a shame. Anyways! Here’s a little something something.

Using: #17. Caught in a sudden rainstorm from this prompt list here —

Track listened to while writing —

•••••••••••*****•••••***••••***•••*•*•*•*••**

This was it.

You’ve all managed to get through high school and get those papers! No doubt south Crenshaw would always be home but it was not all that you wanted to know. You took your education pretty seriously but didn’t personally care for the pressure that came with it. Ultimately there were a few out of state colleges that you wanted to attend but you either a) didn’t get in b) didn’t receive scholarships that you applied for c) the expense would put not only you but your family in debt — which was not worth it to you.

However you still had three (or four) options: attend the community college at Golden Angeles University (GAU) that didn’t strictly offer a aerospace program but you would be alongside half of your high school friends…yet you would most likely have to major in something else and you could apply for FA, the second option—go to GAU for a few semesters then transfer over to Betula California state university (BCSU) which was your realistic dream school and you wouldn’t have to struggle to find a major (unless something changed) but it was six hours away, third option — take a leap year as a reward of simply getting through high school but you’d work the summer, or the final option? Decide not to go at all.

It was the day after graduation when you all decided to meet up again to have a bonfire at the beach. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, lounging around having chatter, drinks on hand, dance battles by the fire, volleyball and football in the water, it was a good time like it should be without any worries in the world.

You sat in between Layla and Simone as they chatted about what Riri’s next track should sound like but you all know the music was never coming. You found yourself drifting off from the conversation as you focused on your boyfriend of two years, Chris Jackson chatting with his childhood friend Patience over the fire.

Your mind couldn’t help but flash to the disagreement the both of you had yesterday night.

“Chris, I can’t believe you would throw this on me right now when I’m trying to figure out what I want to do. Now that you’re saying this just makes this even harder, what were you thinking?” You paced your bedroom floor.

Chris furrowed his thick arched brows as he sat in your clam chair in the corner, “I was thinking that I wanted to test the waters and see if we have a future together? It sounded like a good idea to me.”

“Got it so your ass wasn’t thinking,” you widened your eyes with a snap of your fingers, “we’re still a fresh relationship and for you to just sign a lease on a apartment while expecting me to follow you like a lap dog is crazy to me.”

Chris kissed his teeth, “We are not our parents, I don’t expect you just follow my orders since I’m the man in the relationship and I’m actually offended that you think that’s what I would want you to do. It was just a suggestion and regardless it’s on me, I didn’t ask you to sign with me did I?”

Closing your eyes you deeply inhaled. Yes this was true but not really the point? You had no idea that your boyfriend was even looking for apartments especially fresh out of high school…you started to wonder what his mother thought about all of this.

“Oh my god, does Mrs. Twanda think I put you up to this? I know she isn’t exactly thrilled that her only boy wanted to up and leave out of her place? She probably wants to call me all types of heffa’s and pull my tracks out and i didn’t even do shit! It was all her son being impulsive.” You rambled pinching at your bottom lip in distress.

Chris couldn’t help but to bust out laughing at you, which automatically made you on the defense at you stomped over to him ready to fight. You placed two feet beside his thighs with him eyeing you carefully.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, whatever this is. I know how much you love this chair and I’m not going to be responsible if you break it, on god.” He pointed at your position while still looking up at you and carefully latching onto your bare ankles.

Scoffing you hunched forward gripping his collar and pressing your forehead to his, “shut up, Christopher. You’re stressing me out!”

“And you think you’re gonna yank me up with one hand, like you’re my southern grandma is gonna help? I’m type thick and might break that wrist of yours, I’m just sayin’, baby. You might wanna think this through.” Chris advised while you tilted your head at that.

You laughed, “did you forget? I’ve broken my wrist in two places before thanks to volleyball.”

Chris blinked and shifted his eyes, “exactly…?”

Ignoring him you continued, “and oh you want me to think? Like you did when you signed a lease and said hey, y/n you should live with me.”

“I mean…if it’s that big of deal just say no and it’s done.” Chris licked his lips with a shrug of his shoulders.

You twisted around, plopping down in his lap while bringing him into a headlock much to his surprise. “We can’t just say no because that’ll become a much bigger problem.”

“Uh no…we’ve said it to each other before. We ain’t no yes men or women? Around here.” Chris poked your rib for you to loosen your grip, which you flinched but didn’t falter. You had to get your point across.

Sighing you replied, “yeah but this is different. I don’t want you to resent me if I do move in…just to go off to BCSU.”

Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, finally making you release your tight hold around his neck and relax against his shoulder.

“Look…just because I’m not going off to school doesn’t mean I want you to put your goals on hold for me. I’m not tryna gatekeep you from anything, I love you too much to be that kind of an asshole, aight?” Chris was genuine with you as you stared into his ink colored eyes.

Giving him a soft smile you tilted his chin downwards so you could give him a kiss, “I love you.”

Chris caught you staring at him and sent you a gummy smile with a wink before turning back to his conversation with patience.

Another hour passed striking midnight when everyone started to pack up. Just as you finished hugging everyone goodbye, a coco brown hand wrapped around your waist pulling you back to the sand.

“Hey,” you laughed, spinning to face Chris who’s skin shined even underneath the moonlight, “what’s up?”

“Want to hang back a bit…there’s nobody here.”

Glancing around the beach, it did look pretty empty and it was a public beach so you didn’t have to worry about beach patrol kicking you out.

“I think I heard Olivia mention it might rain a little tonight…” you trailed off, eyeing the Smokey clouds beneath the Pearl moon.

Your attention was interrupted as you heard ruffling of plastic as Chris placed a cap over your head; he even tucked your hair under like a true gentleman.

Laughing you leaned your arms on his chest, “I left this in your car from last time didn’t I?”

“That you did.” He chuckled.

For what felt like eternity, the both of you stayed in each other’s grasp with nothing but the moon and black waves rolling on. You almost started to doze off until the sudden sound of thunder punched through the air, making the both of you jump. Both of you lifted your head to the sky and watched as white lightning zig-zagged through the night.

“Yeah now I think it’s time to slide,” Chris told you, “I can deal with thunder but that lightning hits different! This one time, We were at a family reunion when I was like thirteen down in Tennessee and my uncle Tremaine who came through from St. Louis got hit? It was something out of a movie! So unreal, He ended up suffering hearing and memory loss.”

Chris was always the main one to unintentionally tell you something unsettling during the event of which it could occur. You, Spencer, and Patience were always on his ass about doing this. You strongly considered shoving him into the ocean but the harsh rain that followed stopped you from doing so.

The both of you were quick on your feet, snatching your things up by the bonfire as you ran to the stairs. You were slipping up the wooden stairs with your flip flops, surely scrapping the front of your foot but Chris made sure to keep a tight hold on your hand. The both of you paused every time some lightning came through and carried on once it stopped every so often. The wind was legit pushing you as you ran that you were positive that you were floating at some point and along with the rain? It felt like you were running through the parking lot blind but the adrenaline kept the both of you moving. Eventually the both of you made it to the car, drenched and panting from it all.

The both of you sat slumped in the front of the car, watching as the rain pelted against the window shield and made it impossible to see out of. That’s when the pinging of your phones went off, signaling that you had messages in the chat with everyone checking in to see if you all made it home.

Chris did the honors of snapping a pic of you two, flash on, with you looking at him wildly and resulted in you flicking his ear which he yelped at. “Girl you need to stop assaulting me, I got delicate skin too.”

Rolling your eyes, you pressed your wet face into his hoodie as he sent the picture off to the chat. Placing the phone down he sat back for awhile before peeking at you, “we prolly should have left on time with everybody else, huh?”

All you could do was laugh in disbelief as Chris tried to hug on you and kiss your face with his wet skin but you did your best to dodge his attacks, both of your laughter drowned out by the rain.

••*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•**•**•*•*•*•*•*••**

Continue along with my spring anthology prompts here.

[nocturnalwildflower]

requests open

hi everyone! after a very long and needed mental health break from writing, I have decided it is finally time for me to give this blog some love! my requests are open for all 3 fandoms and I will slowly be posting the things I have written. I write anything from one shots, imagines, blurbs, head cannons, etc.

who I write for

masterlist

love you all! thank you for my followers for being patient with me while I took a break xo

[cobrakaisb]

cuddling

summary: sometimes you just need to be wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms

word count: 382

series masterlist ||| set pre-tlt |||

“connor, i swear to the gods,” luke hears you shout from the back of the hermes cabin. 

his eyes widen, and he’s rushing past his siblings, who have all crowded around the beds closest to the doors, to reach you. thankfully, he arrives at the scene right before you pummel connor to the ground. he steps around his younger brother to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into him. 

your fingers clutch at his camp shirt, and you lean down so your forehead rests on his shoulder. you breathe a sigh of relief, eyelashes fluttering closed as your shoulders relax. luke kisses down the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw. 

“let’s go lay down,” he mumbles against your ear. 

you make a noise of agreement, and luke leads you to his bunk in the back of the cabin. connor’s mouth falls open, and he looks like he’s about to protest, but a sharp glare from his older brother quickly shuts him up. 

you kick off your shoes, discarding them next to luke’s bed. luke, knowing exactly what you’ll ask for, hands you a pair of his pajama pants. you smile softly, but it’s not as bright or vibrant as it usually is when you’re with him. you slip off your jeans, and pull his pants up to cover your legs. then, you join him on top of the covers of his bed.

you’re laying side by side, which is tough in the twin sized bunks, but you already feel happier. his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. your nose brushes against his everytime you take a breath, and the noises of the hermes cabin fade to the background as you soak him up. 

he places a kiss on your forehead, “you can nap if you want.” 

you nod, stifling a yawn as you shift in his bed to get comfortable. the end position is him on his back, with your leg thrown over his hips and head resting on his chest, right where his heart beats. his right hand cradles you into him, fingers tracing down your spine. you hum in satisfaction, nuzzling further into his chest.

you close your eyes, and within a matter of minutes, he hears your breathing even out. 

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[synthe4u]

The stress was beginning to seep in. Your eyebags becoming more visible by the day. No one could tell you were more tired than the past week.

You were more quiet and less aggressive in your talking. You seem to have lost your spirit in a way, but of course, the man in the mask figured it out.

Ghost eyed you on the other side of the room. You were bobbing your head, nearly falling asleep before being shaken awake by the slight fall of your body.

You were being distracted by the lights and paid no mind to Ghost's wandering eyes.

It wasn't until around 2100 (9:00pm) when he knocked at your door. You weren't asleep yet. Your light was still on.

Opening the door you asked, "Is something wrong?"

You hadn't changed out of uniform and still seemed out of it.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why are you awake?"

You snapped back at him. You weren't in the mood. You've been tolerable all day, no arguments or fights, but it's clear he came to ruin that.

He stared at you in silence. The mask made him more intimidating which caused you to fess up.

You ran your hands through you hair, frowning in disgust at the knots in your hair.

"Just some family problems is all."

"Losing sleep over your family?"

You sighed, "What do you need?"

"Need you to sleep so we could complete this mission."

"I'm not broken, I can still do the mission."

Silence permeated the hall, other than the occasional fizzle from that one light the base swears isn't broken or haunted.

"Can I come in?"

The door widened a foot further, allowing the masked man inside. You didn't understand why you would let him in. You don't let anyone in your room, at least, not for silly matters like this.

He followed you further into your room after shutting the door, and settled on the side of your bed. You didn't have time to question it before you fell.

Collapsing on the spot, Ghost caught you before the ground could do actual damage to your body.

I guess the sleep had caught up to you, just as Ghost had caught you.

Sleep truly is not for the weak. Stay healthy, guys.

.............................................................................................................

masterlist

[perfectsunlight]

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛

𝗕𝗔𝗗𝗔 𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗫 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 ⸻ 𝗔 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

✧ 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝗯𝗮𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗻𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝟯 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿: 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁, 𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝘆.

✧ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝘂, 𝘄𝗹𝘄, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮, 𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝘅 𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹, 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗮.

✧ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀, 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗼𝗿, 𝘀𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝗸𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀.

✧ 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀...

✧ 𝗨𝗣𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗟𝗘 ✧ ⸺ 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼

✧ 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝗦𝗪𝗙𝟮 ✧ 𝗕𝗔𝗗𝗔'𝗦 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 ✧ 𝗬𝗡'𝗦 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕

⸻

𝟬𝟭 ✧ 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵

𝟬𝟮 ✧ 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗵𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗽?

𝟬𝟯 ✧ 𝗵𝗺𝗺...

𝟬𝟰 ✧ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘁

𝟬𝟱 ✧ 𝗻𝘃𝗺

𝟬𝟲 ✧ ?

𝟬𝟳 ✧ nonchalant

...and more

✧ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ✧ ⸺ @10cmpulisic22 @zhivaxo @the2ndl @moonsvrse @arievlaw @awkwardtoafault @mightymyo @1luvkarina @jisooftme @angel-hyuckie @bangtancritterrrr @unforgivenangel @starchasermyloves @deadgirlwalking3 @cosettesrants @faatxma @santasbitch @jaeneohee @jxrdxnh @kaaylvst @jesuschrist2006 @enhapocketz @stinkbvgs @neuftaeng @sinifere @ocyeanicc @svt-rei @l-a-u-r-a--b @yunjinwrld @leo-dragon @phamminji

⸺ ✧ 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 ✧ ⸺

[wardenparker]

First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly —  always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air —  earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

[kaiscumsock]

evan peters can pull off everything

i love his hair

[wildechildwrites]

Lucky Charms

Looney Tunes Part Two

Konig/Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

No use of Y/N

Summary: You have some more encounters with König, the mysterious man who lives in your apartment building.

A/N: König being unintentionally terrifying is so funny. He’s shy and he’s a giant murderer for hire, excuse him for constantly throwing off the vibe. Let me know if you want to be tagged in part three!

AO3 Link: Looney Tunes

You've got bags of groceries hanging from your arms, pinching at your skin, precariously balanced, a white knuckle grip on the laundry detergent that's determined to slip through your fingers before you reach your apartment. The man steps on the elevator with you, and you can feel your face heating up as he looks at you.

You haven't seen him since the night he'd kissed you, and you wondered if he thought of you everytime he rode the elevator. You certainly thought of him.

He makes no effort to disguise his staring, looking down at you with a flat expression, taking in your overflowing arms.

"I hate making more than one trip to my car," you say, answering the question he didn’t ask, shrugging as much as you can with your arms full. You swear you see his eyebrow twitch.

Amusement? Irritation? It's impossible to read him. Instead, you drop your gaze, feeling his eyes still on you.

"My name is König." He says abruptly. Your eyes jump back up to his face, and it's his turn to look away as you grin, introducing yourself.

When you go to get off the elevator, he plucks the detergent out of your hand, gesturing silently for some of the bags you carry. He follows you to your apartment soundlessly, placing the bags down outside of your door. You throw your 'thank you' at his retreating form, and he doesn't acknowledge it.

Later, when you're putting away your groceries, you say his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue.

One of the lights in the parking garage is flickering again, and you sigh in annoyance as you look up at it. The apartment complex took months to fix the last broken bulb, so you’re unenthusiastic about the prospects of a quick repair. It puts you on edge, affecting the visibility and giving the garage an eerie feeling.

“It’s just like a horror movie,” you mumble to yourself, attempting to break the tension you feel as you head towards the exit. It’s late, your workday running longer than it should’ve, and you can’t help the itch of anxiety crawling up your spine.

You pass an unfamiliar man, standing still in between some of the cars. His eyes are on you, and you grip your keys tighter in your hand, speeding up. You hazard a glance over your shoulder and find he's disappeared, and your eyes search the parking lot behind you.

Distracted as you are, unfocused on where you're going, you slam straight into a solid wall of a person. You let out a shriek, head whipping back around and nearly fall backwards as you attempt to scramble away. Two solid hands firmly grip your shoulders, preventing you from tripping. König is standing in front of you, and you sag against his hold in relief.

“You scared me!” you exclaim, a hand going up reflexively to your chest.

“You should be more cautious, häschen,” König responds, and you swear there’s the faintest trace of a smile on his face, the subtle quirk of scarred lips. “Most people look where they are walking to, not where they are walking from.”

You let out a sigh and roll your eyes with a smile, the anxiety seeping out of your body. “The stupid flickering light really freaked me out,” you say, gesturing at the ceiling. “And then there was a man staring at me, but he disappeared.” König nods thoughtfully. His hands are still on your shoulders, and there’s a beat as you both stare at each other.

König clears his throat. “I will speak to the complex maintenance about repairing the light. As for your mystery friend–” König pulls back and slides one finger across his throat. You laugh at the joke, even though he’s not smiling.

König insists on walking you back to your apartment despite your objections, and although you know you were just being silly, you’re touched by the gesture.

“Thank you, König,” you say, lingering in the doorway, and something in his eyes seems to sharpen when you say his name.

You're eating cereal on your couch, watching cartoons when you should be sleeping. It's a childish habit, but after a long day, you're feeling sentimental and too burnt out to process anything with substance. Scrolling through your phone, half paying attention, you almost miss the soft knock on your front door.

König is standing outside, his face obscured by something that looks like an executioner's hood. The gear he's wearing makes him seem even more massive, a mountain of a man standing in front of you.

"May I come in?" He asks, his accented voice low, and you're so caught off guard by the request that your jaw drops.

König stares at you and you stare back, contemplating the matter.

You probably shouldn't let him in, this hulking monster in a mask. You don't even know him really, only interacting a couple of times. He's kissed you, and it was a knee buckling, eye rolling kiss, but does that necessarily grant him access to your apartment?

Your logistical side loses when he lets out a sigh, a huff of air that borders on a whine. You step aside, waving him to the couch as you go to the kitchen to grab another bowl of cereal for him. You want to know why he's here unannounced, but you're unwilling to disturb the delicate balance between the two of you, so you say nothing. He pulls off the mask, eyes on the TV.

“Looney Tunes?” he asks, his voice amused. Daffy Duck lets out a shriek in the silence between you two, and you snort.

“Call it a guilty pleasure,” you reply. König’s eyebrow twitches. You offer him the bowl, and his large fingers brush against yours, shockingly warm and rough. His eyes seem to glint at the contact, an almost avian intensity that makes your skin flush.

You sit down a measured distance away from him, and go back to eating your cereal, attempting to display a level of casual that you do not feel. König seems unaffected, sprawled on your couch, crunching away like he does this every night. He's got his boots on still, tacky with a dark liquid you think could be blood.

"Uh… not that I don't appreciate the company…" you begin after a beat of silence, turning to face him. It's the first time you've seen him really smile, and a part of you is unsure if you like it, the almost predatory glint of teeth.

"I just wanted to see if you'd invite me in." He responds to your unspoken question, his voice rumbling deep from his chest, and there's a sharp edge to his words that make the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

There's a beat, and your expression must tip him off to your discomfort because his eyes widen.

"I didn't mean– I am sorry I misspoke– sometimes my translations are–" he's stammering, and you instantly relax, feeling guilty for your involuntary reaction.

"No! No it's okay I was just… surprised. I'm glad for the company" You say in a rush, your voice unnaturally high. "You're always welcome to come over."

He smiles again, softer than before. His eyes haven't quite lost the cutting focus, but you smile back, relaxing a little as he takes another bite of cereal. You fall back into companionable silence.

It's late, and you're starting to fade, eyes drooping, curled up into yourself. König hasn't moved from his post on the end of your couch, his empty bowl still cupped in one hand, and you drowsily wonder if it's a military habit, the way he sits with perfect stillness. You stifle a yawn, and he glances over at you without moving his head.

"It's getting late," he says quietly. You watch as he rises in one fluid motion, large strides leading him with a seemingly practiced familiarity to your kitchen. He places his dish in the sink and reaches for the soap. You sit up.

"It's alright, I'll wash the dishes tomorrow," you call out, wiping your eyes, and he nods. You stand as he heads towards the door, your legs slightly unsteady.

"Thank you for the cereal," he says quietly, a hand on the doorknob. You think there is a light dusting of pink around his ears, but it's too dark to really tell.

You smile at him. "You're welcome."

König pauses, turning towards you.

You idly wonder if he'll kiss you again. He looks down at you with an inscrutable expression, bringing a large hand slowly up to your face, the ghost of his fingertips skimming your jaw. You let out an involuntary gasp at the contact, your skin electrified, and he drops his hand.

He opens the door, and you notice his fingers are still curled, as if he's cupping the sensation of your skin against his, holding it in his palm.

"Good night little rabbit," König whispers, a silhouette in your doorway. "Catch you later."

○○○●●●○○○●●●○○○

Taglist:

All for you @whos-fran my beloved (the first person to ever ask to be tagged)

If anyone else would like to be on the taglist for part three reply or reblog this post :)

[cerise-on-top]

Can i request fluff alphabet with graves? I dont mind what letters you do x

Hey! I did the first eight letters of the alphabet!

Fluff Alphabet for Graves

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

If it was up to him, then he’d go grilling with you every day. Loves teaching you how to barbecue, telling you about how hot the grill should be, what its components are, how long the meat and sausages should be on the iron, that sort of stuff. Graves also loves inviting his Shadows to a barbecue as well. That way he gets to unwind with you and them and you get to know the people he works with. Those are the small celebrations he looks forward to the most.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

On the one hand, he loves the fact that you’re independent and can go a long time without him. It’s necessary since he’s away a lot of the time. On the other hand, he does love how dependent you can be on him. Even just the small stuff gets to him, such as you having forgotten your wallet and wanting some ice cream, or you leaning into him for comfort when you’re watching a scary movie together. Yes, he loves you, but he also loves it when you need him. You’re his world, and he’s yours. He’s the big, strong man in your relationship and he’ll protect you from everything there may be.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

I feel as though he’d try to give you some unsolicited advice. You’re more than welcome to tell him to shut up, though. But other than that, he’ll try to crack some jokes here and there to get you to smile again. Also not above cuddling you and holding you close to make you feel protected and loved. Your panic attack wouldn’t be the first one he’s experienced, in all honesty. Sometimes, he helps with calming down his Shadows. Will calmly talk to you, play some games to help you get your mind off things as well. Will breathe with you too, if you’re okay with that.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

If it was up to him, then you’d be living on a ranch together. He grew up on one in Texas and sometimes wants to go back to that life. Just you being surrounded by cattle, sheep, horses and other kinds of animals. You’d have a nice German shepherd together and would tend to the animals together. Of course, he wouldn’t give up his PMC either, but he can dream about that sort of future. He doesn’t think it would ever become reality anyway. However, as long as he gets to spend his future with you, he’s happy.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He leans more towards being the dominant person in your relationship, but he can be passive at times as well. Usually has his hand on you somewhere as well as an act of dominance. Loves having you sit on his lap too, sometimes even in public when there are no chairs. People should know that you’re together and that he’s the one protecting you. He’s more than happy to consider your suggestions, but it’s usually him who decides where you end up going. Especially if you’re indecisive.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He’d be somewhat petty and resentful, but he wouldn’t let it out on you. He wouldn’t really let it out on anyone, he’s far too mature for that. However, you’d have to apologize to him for him to forgive you. As long as you’re being nice about it, he will. It’s rare for him to apologize unless he’s truly hurt you. When he was in the wrong about some fact he’ll usually ignore it. When he fights he gets a bit louder, his accent becomes a bit stronger, but that’s it. He won’t call you anything mean, but it will be known that he’s upset with you.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s pretty grateful. Not as much as other people, though. He doesn’t always consider everything you’re doing for him. Not that he takes it for granted either, far from it, but he just doesn’t always think when he doesn’t need to. However, generally speaking, he is grateful for what you do for him. Will show it by either taking you on a nice date to somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, or by taking care of your home in your stead for a while. You, too, deserve to have a day off from it all, after all.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There are plenty of things he doesn’t tell you. Sure, it may seem like he’s very open about his job, but you’ll always get the feeling he’s not being entirely honest with you. However, aside from job related things, he’s a very honest man. While he may sugarcoat some things for you sometimes, he will tell you pretty much everything. You can ask him about any personal detail and there’s a good chance he’ll tell you about it. In fact, I encourage you to do so, Graves enjoys talking about himself to you. Ask him about his plans for you and him and he’ll get quite sappy too and won’t stop talking for an hour.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Idk how to explain it but I need more black brits to come on here and write Hobie the way that black americans from nyc write Miles

[cloveroctobers]

THEA MAYS x f!READER / Summer Prompts

A/N: remember when I said there would possibly be a spring prompt for this want to be mean girl? Lol. Officially deleted it from my drafts since it’s summer now and we got to get it together! Anyways been wanting to write for awhile now so why not slide into something light?! Kinda. So I can continue to be inspired to write this lovely season. Although most of the AA + AA HC works will flop a little since the tags aren’t that updated, people hate the writing—which I get! or it’s usually the same shit you see there. Anyways!!!

WARNINGS: Deflecting + Thea being problematic?

Song that inspired this —

#4. Pool Party from this prompt list here — https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com/post/653205377012367360/summer-prompts-heres-a-list-of-thirty-summer

~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*

Thea’s argument for everything lately was simply, she was figuring things out. And sure there was nothing wrong with that statement per se…until it started to become an excuse.

Once the classes before summer approached were officially over, Thea couldn’t wait to actually get away from bringston university. Thea had until July before she left for Seychelles to spend the summer with her grandmother and thought about throwing a pool party at her house. Both of her parents were away on “business” with her mother landing in Dubai and her father in Chicago—which really meant being away from each other (since they were attempting to avoid a divorce) it was the perfect idea.

At least you tried to persuade. You were really Thea’s only best friend, the only one she allowed to get close enough to; you were the one to always bring her out of her shell when she needed it. You saw pass the whole queen bee trope Thea was still sticking with and sure you were always down for some one on one time with your bestie but the semester took a turn to say the least.

The party was in full swing with the heat baking down on the various of melanin that decorated Thea’s backyard. Everyone was invited, even people that Thea didn’t invite but somehow ended up here attended. Thea wasn’t one to have people up in her space and muttered that she should have thrown a beach party instead but once she had a few Jell-O shots she seemed to simmer down.

That’s until Damon Sims approached the both of you, who lounged against the pool trimmings. He was dressed casually with a white tank assorted with a single gold chain, pink and black printed swim trunks, slides, started to let some facial hair grow in and cut his thick hair down to have his waves on swim, also his skin looked really moisturized in this blazing Georgia heat.

“Damnit, he looks good.” Thea scoffed beside you, before she brought her own red cup back up to her lips.

You snorted before putting on a smile up at the six foot man who approached the two of you.

“Ladies, it’s good to see you.” He started.

Thea flicked her hair back with one hand staring off in another direction with her sunglasses covering her eyes, “is it though?”

You nudged her.

Damon kept his cool, “I didn’t think JR would get the invite first but it’s coo, I know you’ve been busy since...Classes ended.” He chose his words carefully.

“Glad you could make it, Mr. High yellow!” You raised your plastic cup at the man who laughed at your joke with a slight roll of his eyes, tapping his cup against yours.

It seemed at if thea wouldn’t be doing much talking. And it didn’t take long for Damon to pick up on that as he shot you a look in which you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed a, “sorry,” to him.

He cleared his throat, “thea…do you think you and I can go have a conversation?”

“No.” She snapped, “go carry a new conversation somewhere else maybe with Simone, actually. I know how much you love talking to her and I didn’t even invite her ass.”

Grimacing you took a sip of your fruity cocktail.

Damon began to squat down in the space between the two of you, keeping his tone steady, “don’t be like this baby—

“Oh no,” Thea laughed, “don’t think you can just waltz over here throwing around pet names like it’s supposed to mean something to me. You chose her side time and time again even after I screwed up my arm…it’s insulting and I don’t deserve to be anyone’s number two. I worked too damn hard for everything and I deserve to have fun, not someone wasting my time.”

Damon inhaled as he noticed some eyes watching the dynamic. He gently placed his hand on Thea’s shoulder, which she flinched away from. He eased up, raising his hands in surrender, “Sure I could do better but…I’ve never chosen Simone over you.”

“Bullshit!” Thea hissed, “it’s always been that way, I maybe clueless to a lot of things but this mess of a relationship? Absolutely not! I should have listened to y/n from the very beginning.” Thea huffed, glancing up at the bright sky.

You felt Damon’s eyes burn into you now. Of course Thea threw you under the bus without thinking. Sure you and Damon got along since you shared a few classes together; before he got involved with Thea but that did not mean you didn’t have an opinion on this whole ordeal.

Damon sighed, “I agreed on this mini separation…thinking it would help us both get our minds right when it came to tennis and baseball but I really think we should further talk it out.”

Thea shoved her shades back so Damon could see the fire beneath her dark eyes. She smirked up at him sitting in silence for a moment and you knew that did not mean anything good.

The next thing you know, Thea’s reaching for the side of your neck and turning your jaw by her fingertips and you couldn’t catch her eyes as she was only staring at your lips. She took a small inhale before she planted a kiss right on yours. And you were guilty because you kissed back in that very short impulsive moment.

When she abruptly pulled back, still holding onto your skull she smiled back menacingly at Damon who’s brows were definitely furrowed right now.

“There’s your answer, damon.” Thea licked his lips, “there’s not much else to talk about, you see? I’m not just going to sit around and wait for you to decide to pick me for once. So leave me the hell alone and don’t come crawling back once you see me consistently leveling up.” She fanned her hand at the boy, handing him her cup before she lifted off the cemented seat to filly submerge herself into the water.

And both you and Damon watched her for a moment, until damon scoffed and rubbed at his nose in disbelief before leaving in silence. You on the other hand had very conflicting feelings as you watched Thea be all smiles while she chatted with someone else in the water.

You knew what your sexuality was (so did Thea) and then you thought you knew all that this is to know about Thea Mays…better than anyone yet she pulled a stunt like this? To prove what exactly? You didn’t like being used and that was part of the conflicting feelings you were experiencing right now.

So you finished you drink and also found yourself getting into the pool, but at the opposite end.

~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

[http-paprika]

All American Bitch / Alex Keller

my submission for @glitterypirateduck ‘s Alex Keller Challenge, with the prompts I don’t care what they say, you can do better than that, are you flirting or starting a fight, and is this what you wanted

wc 1260 / pairing alex keller x f!reader / warnings swearing, suggestive content but nothing graphic / reader's digression advised

summary after being snubbed countless times by your supervisor, alex decides to help you alleviate your rage.

notes yes the title and fic are inspired by the olivia rodrigo song. alex refers to reader as boss but she's not his boss. he still works with the CIA in this fic and i have no idea how the CIA works, so, inaccuracies. also, i wrote this on my phone while i had nothing to do at work, so it’s not edited.

It had been a long day, nauseatingly long as you finally managed to escape meeting after meeting, brutal briefings and overall snubbing you received from your supervisor. Your case, the one you’d spent months meticulously gathering intel, fighting tooth and nail to be given the resources needed to get off the ground, had been snatched right from under you. And all in favor of your supervisor’s asshole of a son who had spent the day gloating over the fact that it was now his case, and you would have to answer to him.

You fumed with rage, having forced yourself to hold it all in, you didn’t need to be punished further. The CIA had already beat you up enough, denying you promotions and undermining your work. And were it not for Laswell convincing you to stay, and your pretty boyfriend, you tell yourself you’d leave. It was clear enough that you were replaceable, they might not say it out loud, but your employers make it known. It didn’t matter how long you’d been there or how hard you worked, it was never enough for them.

“Hey! I finally got that report you asked for, was a little difficult, had to use some of my Keller charm but I—“ Alex enters your office— the one you shared with a co-worker who never showed up but still had his job— freezing and dropping his signature grin when he spotted the hot, red anger that painted your face.

“Give the report to Aarons.” You snap back at him, a little too harshly. Quickly, you reel yourself in, apologizing profusely to Alex. Because a girl like you always had to be forgiving and kind, even if you were angry at everything around you.

“Why’d I give it to Aarons? It’s not his case, you’re the leader, he’s just a glorified desk jockey.” Your boyfriend chuckles, dropping the manilla folder down on your desk while he leans against it. “Can’t even speak Arabic, the only reason he’s got a passport is so he can vacation in the Bahamas. The hell would he do in Urzikstan?”

Alex’s points only added fuel to your growing flame, reminding you that it was by name alone at Aarons had been handed over the job. The man was inexperienced, prideful, and would throw anyone under the bus to save his own ass, and with your horrid luck, it would be you if the mission went south.

“What’s wrong, boss? Why do you look like a firecracker that can’t explode?” He sobers up, wanting to find the root of the problem, like always. You’d compared him once to a loyal golden retriever and the image stuck in your mind since. It was almost endearing how eager Alex was to help you and keep you happy.

“Aarons is in charge of the mission from now on, they didn’t even say anything to me until this morning when they announced it to the whole team. I got fucking blindsided!” You exclaim, letting the anger seep into your words before recollecting yourself. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear my complaining.”

If anyone else heard the complaining or the loud, violent anger, you knew you’d get written up. Giving your supervisor even more of a reason to take what you’d fought for and give to his trust fund son. And that pissed you off, you couldn’t have anything anymore it seemed, you couldn’t do anything without it being seen as wrong. Even your relationship with Alex had been criticized by your employers for being unprofessional, despite how many of your other co-workers dated around the office.

“Aren’t you the one who tells me I shouldn’t be making assumptions? So how do you know I don’t want to hear it? Come on, boss. Hit me with it, give me your best shot. I can handle a bit of anger, I’ve seen worse.” The last sentence made you raise an eyebrow, coming to realize that he was purposefully riling you up. Alex wanted to get under your skin, make you kick and scream until you’d blown off enough steam.

“I’m not doing this,” You state, annoyed by his proposition. The antics he could get away with, you didn’t have the luxury of. Alex was the star operative, he could do no wrong in the eyes of your supervisors. And sometimes, it rubbed you wrong.

“Aren’t you sick of being the better man, boss? Letting them walk all over you, taking away your credit? Come on, where’s your backbone? You can do better than that.” Taking deep breaths, you try to ignore him as he starts impersonating Aarons, waiting to see how long it would take you to finally let loose and scream. Alex knows you too well, knows how you swallow back your words and attempt to stay the picture perfect operator. Knows that despite your countless attempts, they wouldn’t see how talented and wonderful you were, not like he would.

“I told you, I’m not doing this.” Still though, you held back even as your anger ebbed away at you. He shook his head, amazed by your stubbornness and moved around the desk so that he was now behind you. His large hands resting on your shoulders, messaging them and loosening your tightened muscles.

“One way or another, I’m gonna get that frustration out of you boss. You’re just gonna decide how you want it.” His voice is like honey, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear before he moves his mouth down, peppering kisses underneath the collar of your shirt, leaving small marks where no one else but him would see.

“Alex—“ You groan, knowing the problems that could arise because of his behavior. “Someone’s gonna see.”

“So? Let them, boss, I don’t care what they say. They’re jealous of you anyway, how smart you are—“ He says, sucking on your tender skin, causing you to reach up and grab onto his hair. “—How talented you are, how fucking gorgeous you look when you’re working. You make me the luckiest man in this whole goddamn place.”

His instant praises continue as he moves his hands to the hem of your shirt, squeezing and running his hands over your soft skin. You can feel the tension easing, your head spinning as he kisses along your jaw. “Feeling better yet, boss? Or do you need more?”

You bite back a moan as his hands grip at the sensitive skin, moving them up under your bra and kneading. His mouth never lets up, staying attached to your neck, alternating from biting and kissing. After you squeeze your eyes shut, you think you’re seeing stars right there in your office, and when he abruptly stops you let out an annoyed huff.

“Is this what you wanted?” You ask him, having come completely undone and turning into a panting, shivering mess. Your body aching for the warmth of his hands.

Cupping your chin, Alex makes you look up at him, his pale blue eyes gleaming along with a smirk on his face. “I don’t know. Did I instill enough confidence in you to go get what’s yours?”

“Is this an attempt at flirting with me, or getting me to start a fight with Aarons?” His smirk manages to grow bigger at your question, and he bends down pressing a kiss on your lips.

“I support women’s rights. And wrongs, boss. Give him fucking hell if you want.”

[cobrakaisb]

ballad of a homeschooled girl

summary: a new arrival at camp half-blood is anything but extraordinary, but your attachment to the broody head counselor and claims of a mother who supposedly has no children cause suspicions to arise

word count: 3.9k

featuring: broody!luke who is somewhat soft for reader, angst, reader seems delulu (but she’s not trust 🤞), mostly primer for my upcoming luke series  

series masterlist ||| next part

the air is humid, causing the sheets to stick to your already clammy skin. you shift in the small cot, peeling the bedding off your skin, relaxing when the cool breeze caresses your arms and legs. it’s peaceful, and your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. just as you’re about to cross back into dreamland, a girl’s voice causes your eyes to open. 

“she’s waking up! look!” she yells, and you know that she’s pointing at you. 

you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows. you look around drowsily, trying to make sense of your surroundings. it’s when you make eye contact with a girl who has light pink hair, that you realize you’re no longer walking down a busy city street, hustling through the crowd. confusion settles in, and you wonder how you ended up in this infirmary, and whatever happened to that crazy lady who was trailing you. you open your mouth, trying to speak, but the girl just shoves a cup with a straw in it towards you. 

“drink,” she demands. 

you hesitate, uncertainty clear on your face. how can you even trust this girl? she seems to sense your emotions, because her hand rests gently on your forearm, pushing the drink closer to your chapped lips. 

“drink,” she repeats, and you nod. 

a small sip can’t hurt, you decide, and your lips wrap delicately around the straw. as you drink the liquid, you realize that it tastes like the pina coladas your dad would make with the fresh pineapple from the farmers market over the summer. you smile fondly at the memory, relaxing further into the uncomfortable mattress. you sigh in relief, feeling the throbbing in your head diminish. the tranquility, however, doesn’t last for long because the girl with the pink hair returns. 

“i’m anna,” she starts, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “how much do you remember before you got here?” she continues. 

“where is here exactly?” you ask, shifting in the bed to put some distance between the two of you. 

her eyes widen, and something along the lines of confusion and distrust cross her features. she doesn’t say anything, just spending a few minutes analyzing you. a wave of self-consciousness washes over you; do you really look that distraught? 

“you have no idea what you are, what we are,” she mumbles. there’s both amazement and sympathy in her voice. 

“i’m a girl, if that’s what you’re asking,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. 

she laughs at you. “you’re in for a rude awakening,” anna replies between giggles.

the next day, you're walking out of the infirmary with strict instructions to go see chiron. you have no idea who this guy is, but all the med staff assure you that you’ll know when you see him. it’s only when you come face to face with a half-horse, half-human -- a centaur -- that you understand exactly what they meant. he smiles at you, and you assume that he’s trying to be comforting, but you still feel so uneasy.

“come. we have a lot to discuss,” he says, resting a firm hand on your shoulder as he leads you towards another room in the old victorian house. 

you nod, walking along the veranda towards an open-aired room. the walk feels like a thousand years, as other campers point and whisper in your direction. you want to shrink in on yourself, but you don’t. miraculously, this air of confidence envelops you, and you march into the room with steady and sure strides. the other person in the room looks at you and chiron. he’s older, adorning black sunglasses and holding a diet coke. he rolls his eyes at the sight of you, getting up from his adirondack chair, grumbling about how much he hates kids and wishes he could have a drink. you raise your eyebrows, looking to chiron for an explanation, but he just shakes his head. 

“sit, then we’ll talk,” he promises, gesturing to one of the empty seats. 

once you’re both seated, it’s quiet. you don’t really have anything to say to the older man in front of you. you’re still confused by anna, and all the cryptic comments she made these past two days. you have no memory of how you got here, or why. nothing makes sense to you. 

chiron seems to know that though, as he says, “i understand this can all be very confusing. so let’s start with the basics. you’re at camp half-blood, a safe haven for demi-gods. for people like you.” 

he pauses for a moment, probably expecting you to say something, but you don’t. instead, you turn to the left, staring out to the water. it’s so serene, completely contrasting your inner turmoil. when chiron realizes you don’t have anything to say, he continues on:

“here you’ll prepare for battle, complete quests, make friends, and live your life free of worry. at the end of the summer, you’ll have the option of returning home, or remaining as a year-round camper. for now though, i’ll have one of our older, more experienced demi-gods give you a tour. unless of course, there’s something else you’d like to discuss?”

the way he’s looking at you suggests that you should have more to say -- some deep dark secret waiting to be revealed -- but you don’t. he waits, but once you don’t acknowledge his words, he sighs, rising from his seat. you follow, moving towards the door with him. as you hand grasps the handle, it tumbles open, and your body moves forward. thankfully, you don’t crash to your feet, or collide with the person in the doorway, but your cheeks flame in embarrassment. 

when you look up, you’re surprised to see a boy. he looks to be about your age with his tall stature and muscular frame. his face is blank, almost bored looking, except for the hints of anger and annoyance in his brown eyes. his jaw is firm and locked, as he crosses his arms and gives you a once over. he hates me already, you think, and while you wish you didn’t care, it stings just a bit. 

“this is luke, our head counselor. he’ll show you around camp, and help you settle into the hermes cabin, your temporary home,” chiron explains. 

you nod towards luke, but don’t comment on anything chiron says. without another word, he turns on his heel and marches down the steps of the front porch. his pace is brisk, and his long strides make it hard for you to catch up with him, but you manage. once you’re walking side by side with him, it’s quiet between the two of you. he doesn’t point out any of the details, and his speed makes it hard for you to actually absorb anything. 

“if you’re gonna walk so fast, the least you could do is explain what everything is,” you snap, annoyed.

he stops walking all together, huffs, and turns to face you. in the bright light of the sun, you notice his scar. it’s pale white and risen above the skin, alerting you that it’s still fairly new, and runs from the corner of his eye to his jawline. he should look scary or intimidating, but you only think that he looks angelic. you gasp softly at the realization, lips parting. his eyes dart down to your mouth, and there’s something almost sinister in his gaze when he finally starts talking. 

“archery range, lava wall, and training arena,” he grumbles, pointing out all the spots closest to you. 

instead of looking at all the places, your gaze is still focused on him. he rolls his eyes, facing forward and continuing on his walk. 

“if you’re going to ask me to point stuff out, at least pay attention when i do,” he snaps. 

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes as you follow him towards a horseshoe of cabins. each one is different and seems to represent their own thing. as you’re walking past the center, you notice that there are two lone cabins in the middle. you freeze. your head tilts as you observe the cabin on the right. you feel a strange pull towards it, and start following the invisible string tying you to the building.

“what are you doing?” luke asks, and from his tone you know his arms are crossed. 

“i need to go there,” you explain, looking over your shoulder at him. 

“the hera cabin?” he questions, following you. 

you nod, continuing on your path towards the cabin. you climb up the stairs, and tentatively touch the door handle. it creaks open, daring you to come inside. you turn back to luke, who’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs with an uncertain look in his eyes. 

“i have to go in here, but i have no idea why,” you explain, feeling something close to bashful. 

he nods, swallowing an imaginary liquid, before climbing up the stairs after you. he waits patiently behind you, his left shoulder grazing your right as the two of you stand on the porch. you want to go inside, need to go inside, but the rational side of you is preventing you from doing so. it all feels like a trap. 

luke, noticing your unease, mumbles, “there’s a barrier. nothing can hurt you here, not like they could out there.” 

he doesn’t clarify what the other there and in here are, but you know exactly what he means. the creepy, often imaginative figures you’d see out in the city aren’t present here. you haven’t felt their presence since you woke up in that tiny bed in the infirmary. whatever is drawing you to this cabin, is something else, a higher being. before you can continue to deliberate, you push open the door and step inside. 

it doesn’t look much like a cabin, rather a temple. the entire thing is made of marble, complete with large columns from floor to ceiling. on the walls, there are several engravings, and when you look closely, you recognize them as peacocks. your fingers trace over the intricate design, and your sense of anxiety quells tremendously. when you look towards the center, at the giant statue, you feel somewhat relieved. 

“this is my cabin,” you announce. the statement shocks both you and luke. 

“what? no it’s not. hera doesn’t have kids, that’s zeus’s job,” luke says. 

“c’mon, time to go,” he continues, grabbing your shoulder and trying to push you out the door.

you dig your heels into the floor, refusing to move. you know everything you’ve said so far sounds crazy, is crazy, but you have to be here. you try to come up with an explanation, anything to make sense of the situation, but remain empty handed. 

“you’re right. let’s just go. sorry,” you reply, letting him lead you back out the door and down the stairs. 

it isn’t until you step foot in the hermes cabin, his cabin, that you realize your duffle bag is missing. all the other kids, which is a surprisingly large number, have various personal belongings scattered around their sleeping area. some of them have comic books, others have small trinkets, and a couple even dare to show off their stuffed animals. luke walks further into the cabin, the crowd parting like the red sea. they’re quiet, and watch eagerly as he opens a closet door and pulls out a well-loved sleeping bag. the whispers don’t start until he waves you over, and places the item directly next to his bed. 

“you sleep here,” he mumbles, pointing to the spot on the floor. 

“what? i told you about the other cabin,” you shout, frustration present in your voice. 

the hermes cabin is quiet, all of them listen in on your conversation with their head counselor, their older brother.

“and i told you to drop it,” he replies, and there’s a subtle warning in his voice. you can’t decide if he’s trying to say this isn’t the time or place or if he’s insinuating that you’re fucking crazy and he wants nothing to do with it. 

“where’s your stuff?” he asks, completely changing the subject. 

you notice he does that a lot, but answer, “i don’t know. my duffle’s missing.” 

his eyebrows furrow at your words, and he crosses his arms again. he throws his head back, gritting his teeth. 

“alright! who took her stuff? cough it up, let's go!” he shouts. 

luke’s met with silence, which irks him even more. he turns away from you, facing the swarm of pre-teens and teens. he flashes them his most unamused look, one he’s been carrying with you all day, but continues to wait patiently. 

“somebody better own up to it, or i’m taking away dessert privileges,” he announces. 

the room immediately grows noisy with everyone whispering to each other. some kids are trying to determine who it could be, while others are fully putting the blame on their siblings. there’s even one girl who whispers about how luke never does this for anyone, so you must be special. 

you try to come up with an answer to luke’s question. who took your bag? but you can’t seem to figure it out. you know you had it with you when you left your dad’s house, but then things turned messy extremely fast. you remember the strap when that weird dog thing followed you into the alley, and how you grabbed it by the handles to shove it in the overhead compartment of the amtrak. but after that, everything gets kind of blurry; days melting into one. finally, you decide that it must not have made it to camp. 

you tap luke’s bicep, and he turns away from the crowd to meet your eyes. “i don’t even think it made it here,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. 

luke sucks in a breath, nodding his head before turning back to the crowd. “never mind guys, as you were,” he dismisses. 

you crouch down, hoping to set up your sleeping bag and take a nap, but he stops you with a hand on your arm. he gestures for you to follow him with a tilt of his head, and you agree. he leads you towards the back of the cabin, outside a supposedly hidden door. when you step out into the bright sunlight, you stop and let your hand cover your eyes, but luke is already walking towards a forest. you follow, easily catching up since he’s walking slower, and match his strides. once the two of you are far enough into the woods, out of the earshot of nosey campers, he sits down in the grass, beckoning for you to follow. 

“tell me everything you remember,” he says, a serious look on his face.

you look down, fingers twiddling with the strands of grass. you pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your right arm around your kneecaps as you continue to braid the grass with your left hand. from your observations, you know luke is anything but patient, but he doesn’t push you to say anything. he just sits there, palms splayed on the grass as he leans back on them, looking at the fluffy white clouds and clear blue sky. 

“i don’t know how i got here. i keep replaying everything in my head, but i wasn’t even near the woods. then, i was just here,” you whisper, finally looking towards him. 

you find that he’s already looking at you. intense brown eyes meeting your lost and confused gaze. he nods his head, signaling that he’s trying to process your words; looking for a meaning in the code, one that even you can’t decipher.

“why’d you leave?” he asks, and you stop fiddling with the grass. “your house i mean…why leave?” he continues.

he’s looking down at his bright red converse, and there’s a certain vulnerability in his gaze that you’re all too familiar with. you raise your eyebrows at his expression, thinking about what his question reveals about him. maybe he doesn’t have a family. and that thought just makes you sad, so you decide to answer him honestly.

“i love my dad, but there were too many odd things happening, things he couldn’t explain, and stuff my therapist didn't believe. there were winged horses, their manes the color of the pitch black night. or dogs the size of a dumpster, and then that brunette lady who follows me around everywhere. i just wanted to keep him safe, so i left,” you explain, meeting luke’s eyes for the second time. 

“i get that, wanting to protect your family, i mean. i’d do the same for my sisters,” he replies. 

you hum in acknowledgment, leaning back on your elbows and extending your legs in a straight position. you tilt your head back, enjoying the warm sun on your exposed neck, and the soft rustle of the flora around you. you turn your head, eyes squinting to look at luke, and your gaze is immediately drawn to the scar on the left side of his face.

“what happened to you?” you ask, tentatively. 

luke sucks in a breath of air. his jaw clenches and anger swarms around in his already dark eyes. his hands ball into fists at his sides, and you realize that maybe that was too personal of a question.

“you don’t have to answer,” you backtrack, “it just seems like a story worth telling.”

he laughs bitterly, “it’s not. my dad sent me on a fucking joke of a quest, and this was the result. all pain, no glory.” 

you frown at his words. you don’t want to pity luke, because you know that luke doesn’t want that from you. he wants people to understand him; to listen to his feelings of resentment and disappointment, and despite only knowing him for an hour max, you decide that you’d do that for him. 

“don’t beat yourself up about it. the gods are stupid anyway, my mother’s cabin doesn’t even have a bed for me to sleep in,” you say. 

there you go again with the mother thing.

“your mother can’t be hera,” luke announces, finality in his tone. 

“i know that. but i know that she is. she’s the one that’s been helping me; the one who brought me here,” you explain, finally making the connection.

luke shakes his head in disbelief, “i think you’re going crazy from lack of food.”

you open your mouth, ready to protest his accusations, but luke cuts you off with a fierce look and wave of his hand. he stands up from the grass, holding his hand out to you. you huff, but wrap your hand around his, as he helps life you off the ground and to your feet. once you’re on your feet, you go to remove your hand from his, but you find yourself face to face. he’s already looking at you with a mix of admiration and curiosity. no one’s ever looked at you that way, and you can’t fathom why he is. 

“what? is there dirt on my face?” you ask, pulling hand from his to wipe at your chin. 

he laughs, loud and joyous, then answers, “no. you’re just different.” 

you huff, again, and cross your arms defensively. “my therapist says i’m just unique,” you say. 

luke laughs again. his shoulders shake and he has to stop walking to gain his composure. you wait the few minutes it takes for him to collect himself, and feel the smile taking over your features. there’s something enchanting about his laugh, you think, and that thought scares you. you shouldn’t be getting this attached. not yet. 

“can we go to lunch, please? i’m so hungry,” you complain, breaking the aura of radiance and joy.    

the sound of your voice sobers luke up, and he nods in agreement. he doesn’t even acknowledge you any further, just walks through the path in the woods, towards the center of camp. his strides are back to being quick and long, and you struggle to keep up with him. but you chose to ignore it; you shut him out. 

the walk back feels infinitely longer, and you’re relieved to see the dining pavilion. it’s a large mess hall, with picnic tables inside the building as opposed to out. each one of them holds various campers, and you notice how there is a giant fire pit burning in the middle of the room. it seems counter intuitive; no need for the warmth of the fire in the stifling summer heat, which becomes more apparent now that luke’s cold nature is back. 

you chance a look at said boy, and find that he’s already watching you. without saying a word, his hand comes to rest at the small of your back; palm splayed on the region between your jean shorts and the hem of your bright orange camp shirt. he gently pushes you forward, and you comply, following his lead. as you walk, you hear the campers whispering. they’re not subtle. 

“that’s the new girl.” 

“anna says she’s crazy, has no clue what a demigod even is.”

“i heard she’s not even a real demigod, just someone to bewitch luke.”

“oh he’s bewitched alright.” 

you clench your jaw at their words, an angry fire in your eyes. you hate when people talk about you behind your back, and you’re not afraid to let these thirteen year olds know that. you whip your head around, so fast you’re surprised you don’t whiplash. as your mouth opens, ready to spew out insults, luke pushes you forward and away from the culprits. your anger only shifts from them to him. 

“what’s your problem?” you demand, stopping in your tracks to face him head on. 

“i’m not the one with the problem here,” luke mumbles. 

for some reason, that statement hurts you more than it should. you laugh bitterly, blinking back the tears that are threatening to come out. it’s been a day and everyone already hates me. 

“right, i get it,” you reply, stepping away from him when he tries to reach out for you.

“no that’s not what i meant,” luke says, desperation in his voice. 

“fuck this. i don’t even want to be here anyways,” you announce. 

before he can say or do anything, you’re out the door.

you wander through the camp grounds, fighting off tears. there’s no reason for you to be acting like this; people have always hated you, so why would camp half-blood be different? because it was supposed to be different, you thought. the path you meant to take, back to the hermes cabin, veers off course until you’re standing in front of the hera cabin. you don’t hesitate this time, to climb the steps and take refuge inside.

once the door closes, and the lock clicks, you come face to face with the looming statue. her eyes pierce your soul, and you sink back in on yourself. it’s a statue, you remind yourself, and that boosts your confidence somehow. you look her in the eyes, and swear her gaze meets yours. 

“why would you bring me here?” you ask, voice wobbly from the tears. 

“i hate it here! and i hate you!” you shout, stomping your foot like a child. you feel like a child. 

you sink down to your knees, forehead coming to rest on the ruffle of her toga. the marble is cool and smooth against your hot skin. the temperature change grounds you, and slowly, your tears subside. 

you decide, in that very moment, that these people won’t see you cry. ever.       

[embraceanewmaneachnight]

y’all are SLEEPING on Austin Sommers like that bloodthirsty theatre kid is fucking hot

[perfectsunlight]

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