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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

Summary:

During his first full moon, Isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. Derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that Scott grounds himself with his love for Allison.

Isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

Word Count: 2,300

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: canon level violence - mentions of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd having to be chained up on the full moon (to avoid hurting themselves and others), mentions of Isaac's abusive father (somewhat graphic descriptions of the abuse that Isaac experienced); Isaac has a self deprecating inner monologue because of the psychological effects of his father's abuse; mentions of Isaac being injured by his father's abuse; the reader also has an abusive father and it's a point on which they related and bonded (and how they became such close friends); at one point the reader describes her abuse as being 'not as bad' as Isaac's abuse (but that is psychological trauma speaking); mentions of the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse; reader is described as 'pretty girl' at one point in the fic (again, this is very self indulgent); Isaac has a crush on the reader but has never voiced it (it's implied that the reader feels the same way); Isaac and the reader exchange friendly physical affection; emotional angst - Isaac feels powerless for not being able to stop the reader's abuse; I think that's it for this short fic? The themes are on the darker side, but it comes from a personal place for me.

A/N: If you've been following me for any amount of time, then you know I have a thing for sad, abused characters. If you have read my Ellie fic 'My Heart Is The Worst Kind of Weapon' - then you would know why. Isaac is the kind of character I immediately connect to for deeply personal reasons, so watching the entirety of Teen Wolf through for the first time, I couldn't resist writing a fic about him. There will likely be more to come about him, but for now - here is this deeply self indulgent moment inspired by Season 2, Episode 9. If you don't relate to this, I hope you can enjoy it as a distant whumpy fiction, and if you can relate to it - I hope that Isaac can bring you some comfort like he has for me. Much love, happy reading.

...

While the chains rattled against the abandoned subway car and Isaac tried to ignore Erica’s groans of pain from having several large bolts bored into her head, he couldn’t help the question that was rattling around inside of him.

“How do you do it?” Isaac asked Derek as he arranged the chains around his limbs. He was trying to push down the sickly familiarity of it - being restrained. He was trying to tell himself that it actually was for his own good this time, not just a sick punishment given to him by a powerless, unhinged old man. “How do you keep it under control?”

“You have to find an anchor.” Derek told him, firm, determined.

It was nice to focus on the conversation instead of the anxiety rising in his chest, so Isaac pressed on.

“An anchor?” He questioned, unsure what Derek meant. “Like what?”

“Yeah. Something else for you to focus on. For me it's anger.” Derek paused. “But it's not like that for everyone.”

It was immediately obvious to Isaac who Derek was speaking of.

“Scott.”

He had Allison. It was some dreamy romantic bullshit - using his love for his girlfriend to keep from wolfing out. But apparently, it worked well for him.

Derek gave a subtle nod.

Isaac didn’t have anything like that. He didn’t have some cheesy romance to fall back onto. He didn’t have someone declaring a love for him so openly - because he wasn’t worth loving. Even with his father gone, the world had made it very clear that he was just a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe - a problem being passed around that nobody could seem to solve.

“It just has to be something strong enough to keep your mind present. A strong feeling you can hold onto. Anger, love, resentment, regret, rage. Just find something that works for you.”

Isaac nodded, and Derek went to check that Erica and Boyd were secure as the moonlight came to its full brightness.

…

It got Isaac thinking about you.

You were probably the one person in his life who didn’t think he was a problem. The one person in his life who loved him, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

He had felt all of those things - anger, love, resentment, regret, rage - the last time he had been with you. When he had been sitting in your bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat lid after an argument with his father. Naturally, the argument had ended with Isaac having a black eye, and a large cut on his cheek from his father's ring colliding with his face.

You were the only person he ever went to. No matter how bad things got, you were the only person he ever told. You were the only person who ever understood. Isaac had found out the hard way that your own father was much the same as his. On the first day of freshman year, he had seen you wearing a sweater when it had been a balmy, sunny day, and he had volunteered to be lab partners with you - partially to get closer to a pretty girl and partially because a gnawing feeling was going off in his stomach.

Even back then - even when he was scrawny and powerless, his instinct to protect you had still been so strong. Even if all he could offer you was a shoulder to cry on and the chocolate bar out of his lunch, he looked at you and he felt the world turning on the simple hope that he could make your day just a bit better. Because he knew, even without words, by the tiredness in your eyes - that you suffered like he did. And he wanted so badly to make it better.

When the two of you were doing an introductory experiment of baking soda and vinegar to cause the classic foaming volcanic reaction, the rubber gloves you had been wearing caused your sleeve to ride up, revealing a menacing purple bruise on your wrist. Isaac spotted it instantly, and when you locked eyes with him, he held nothing but deep understanding there - not shock or even pity. Nothing but deep understanding and warmth.

He held your hand under the table for the rest of class, and you had never wanted to pull away. You felt a unique kind of mourning when the bell rang and you had to part ways.

At lunch that day, you found him under the bleachers by the lacrosse field. Without so much as a word, only a cursory glance around to make sure that nobody else was watching, he pulled up his shirt, revealing an array of horrifying bruises to you - some purplish, some green, some faded yellow - all collected from different points throughout the summer. The time when he had been trapped at home with his father, having nowhere else to go as the man got more aggravated with his presence.

You ran a gentle touch along the wounds - the most gentle touch he had been greeted with since his mother's death, something that easily brought him to tears. And from that moment on, the two of you had a silent understanding. You spent the rest of the lunch hour exchanging ‘war stories’ and laughing with a tainted dark humor about your separate twisted patriarchs. And the next time he was bloodied and bruised, he texted you to meet him under the bleachers in that same spot, and you didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed at three in the morning to get to him.

It became a sacred place for the two of you to escape to when you needed it.

The two of you became a sacred comfort to each other - knowing that there was little escape in telling the police or a guidance counselor, because you had nowhere else to go.

Today, when Isaac called you, you found your house luckily empty. Your mother and your father were away visiting relatives in another state, so when Isaac told you that he needed you, you texted him the all clear to come over to your house for a reprieve. He was lucky to be able to spend the night somewhere else - to get to sleep in your bed, cuddled up close to you for comfort, without fear.

He tried not to wince with pain as you dabbed disinfectant on the large cut across his cheek. He hated seeing you flinch with empathy every time his expression wavered even slightly. He could handle the pain. He could be better than this.

“Isaac.” You sighed his name pitifully, clearly on the edge of tears.

Both of you knew the thoughts that were pulsing thickly through your head, even without you having to speak them.

Isaac didn’t deserve this. You wanted to hurt his father in return. You wished you could take away his pain, you wanted to help him escape from it.

It was a ‘wishful thinking’ conversation that the two of you had dozens of times before. It always ended with you both more upset than when it started, so you swallowed up those thoughts now. But Isaac knew them too well, written across your face and swollen on your lips like the tears brimming your pretty eyes.

You put down the cotton ball you had been using and turned your back to him, poorly hiding your crying as you stiffly wiped off your cheeks.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied, hating that this whole thing had to upset you. “You know how it is.”

To an extent, you didn't. Your father was a screamer. He yelled loud enough to shake the walls, but he rarely escalated to physical violence. You found that you were lucky if you escaped a fight with death threats and tears rather than having hands laid on you. Isaac came to school with fresh bruises every other week - you had to feel that he was worse off than you were.

“We should just go.” You said, feeling bold in your suggestion. It felt obvious - escaping. “We should just run away. Get the hell away from all this.”

You whipped back around, still feeling a terrible twinge of pain and sadness inside you at the bruising across his face, the fact that his cheek was definitely swelling up now.

Isaac frowned. It was a nice dream, and he hated to be the one to dash right through it.

“You know we can't do that.” Isaac sighed. Ever the realist. Of course. “Where the hell would we even go? With what money? No offense, but the couple hundred dollars you have saved up from babysitting isn't gonna get us anywhere.”

“It's over fifteen-hundred.” You told him honestly.

It was a nest egg that you had been sitting on since middle school, hoping to escape your father and never look back. When you met Isaac, you had another thing anchoring you to Beacon Hills, keeping you from buying the bus ticket you had always wanted.

“But you're right. That'll get us - what? A couple of nights at a motel?” You let out a harsh, dry laugh. Trying to relieve some of the tension. “Well… we could go on a vacation? Escape for a few days?” You suggested, sounding hopeful.

The idea of spending time alone with Isaac - a getaway where the two of you could pretend none of it was happening, even for a few days - it sounded like paradise.

Isaac’s mind went to a dream-like vision - having you alone in a hotel room. A bed just for the two of you. Even just getting the chance to sleep peacefully with you, cuddle you, it sounded like a dream.

He had to pull himself back before his mind went to places a friend shouldn’t stray.

“A last hurrah before my dad kills me for running away on him.” Isaac sighed.

The consequences of it would be inevitable. The two of you would have to come back home eventually. He knew that your father would likely feel much the same. He would never forgive himself if you ended up bruised and battered because of something he had encouraged you to do.

You let out a sob then - the thought of Isaac dying by his father's hands had been all too real to you at times. A horror you imagined in your mind over and over again, especially after times he had come to you with half his torso nearly bruised black and he had been unable to move properly for days. His father was a monster, and you didn’t doubt that he would be capable of murder.

Isaac rushed to stand up, and pulled you into a hug. His warmth, his arms surrounding you tightly - it was the only place you ever felt safe. You eagerly gripped him back, missing the wince he let out when you squeezed a bit too hard over one of his bruised ribs. But no - he would never fault you for holding onto him too tightly.

Holding you like this - he felt like he had the world in his arms. Something tight in his chest, telling him that if anything ever happened to you, he would become the same kind of monster that his father was. But in the same way any threat to you made him boil over with rage - you made him gentle. You made him soft and loving. You were the only person in the world who made him feel okay to weep.

He kissed the top of your head, not a stranger to comforting you with affection even though the two of you remained strictly as ‘friends’. As much as he yearned for more - you were a life vest while he was drowning and he wouldn't risk fucking that up just to kiss you and call you his girlfriend. He wouldn't throw any messy feelings into the mix.

“It'll be okay.” He told you.

Coming from his lips, you had to believe it.

“Thank you, Isaac.” You sniffled. And then, something hit you. “You came over here for my help, and now you’re comforting me.” You let out another dry chuckle, clearly resisting the urge to scold yourself.

“This is helping.” He told you, hugging you tighter. “This always helps.” He said the last part quieter, a dropped whisper that you could barely hear.

It was a truth he was afraid to confront just yet.

…

But in the present, it was a truth that was helping him more than anything.

Isaac hadn't spoken to you since he had gotten the Bite. He had been terrified of hurting you somehow. The last thing he ever wanted was to become the thing that you feared. It would have been his worst nightmare to be the one to make you cower in a corner and cry rather than to be the one giving you comfort from it.

As the moon came to a full wane overhead, and the mighty rage and power pulsed through his veins, Isaac thought of you. He thought of using that power to tear apart anybody who had ever hurt you - to finally free you from those tears. He thought of giving you the same relief he had felt when his father died. He thought of his love for you, even if it was a silent love that he had never gotten the chance to voice.

“I see you found your anchor.” Derek remarked to Isaac later, after he had gotten Erica and Boyd back in their chains, tightening Isaac’s binds once again, if only as a precaution.

“I did.”

Derek looked at him with intrigue, as if waiting for him to explain.

“Well, you said that you use anger. And Scott uses love.” Isaac told him. “I guess that mine is… some combination of both.”

“Protectiveness.” Derek explained. “That's what wolves call it.”

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and I wrote this to be a closed off story/its own little moment inspired by the show. This is a complete story, however, if there is enough interest, I might turn this concept into a longer oneshot and expand on the idea. It would not be me writing a 'part 2' of this, it would be me using this concept and writing a longer oneshot. I do have a personal vested interest in writing about powerful characters defeating abusers, but currently I don't have the time to turn this into something longer, so this is all I wrote. Please do not harass me about making this longer or posting something more, and if you're going to leave a comment asking for a continuation, please also tell me what you liked about this current story. Though I have something else in mind, I do consider this to be a completed story on its own.

#sundrop writes #teen wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x you

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chiriwritesstuff · 9 months

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The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant.

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:[email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often. Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.] Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?] Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?] It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.] Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret. [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.] Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again. There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly. Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns...

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all. At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right. Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list…

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me.

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right. I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself. Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring. It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother. Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfic

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steventhusiast · 10 months

Text

STWG daily prompt 9/12/23

prompt: barbie

pairing/character(s): steddie, stobin

transfemme!stevie has my heart ngl

Stevie's been out to Eddie for a few months when her birthday comes around. And she's anticipating a... Depressing day, if she's honest.

The only people that know are Eddie and Robin. To everyone else, she's still a guy. So she anticipates all the masculine gifts; cologne, clothes she won't wear, gag gifts from the kids about her being their dad.

And that part of her birthday is depressing. She sits through a lunch-time barbecue with the party and Eddie holds her hand out of view of everyone else so she can squeeze it every time something is said that makes her want to bawl her eyes out. Like how Mike keeps making jokes about how her hair's starting to be too long to look good, and Dustin keeps asking why she's wearing so many layers in July, and everyone keeps calling her the birthday boy, and son, and Steve-

She's happy to go home, is the point. Expects to spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Eddie who will no doubt spend the rest of his night feeding her words of affirmation about how she's his girl and other ooey gooey feminine phrases he knows quell the knot in her stomach some.

What she doesn't expect is for Robin to be sat on the couch she wants to curl up on, a comically huge blanket in her hands and an equally comically large pile of gifts towered in front of the couch.

"Rob, what-" Stevie starts, eyebrows raising involuntarily. She looks to Eddie, who has a small, proud smile on his face.

"Happy birthday, dingus!" Robin cheers. A party popper seems to have materialised in her hand out of nowhere, and Stevie can't help the laugh that's shocked out of her when it pops loudly.

"Go get changed into something more Stevie, okay, my love? It's time for your real birthday." Eddie says into her ear.

A sudden well of emotion builds up inside her at the words, at how lovely her boyfriend and best friend are, at the thought of how much they must have spent to buy her these gifts. She sniffs harshly to keep tears from falling, nods, and goes to her and Eddie's room without a word.

She considers getting straight into sweats in case she falls asleep in the living room, but knows she needs to feel feminine right now. Needs to see who she is reflected on the outside as well as the inside so she doesn't feel so... Wrong for the rest of the night. She slips into a comfortable pink day dress with a wrap front (an incredibly willing donation from Robin's closet) and doesn't give herself any time to scrutinise her figure in the mirror. Just brushes her hair out of its more masculine style of being pushed back, and into something softer that frames her face.

When she reenters the living room, Robin is still sat on the couch with the blanket, and Eddie is crouched down by the pile of gifts, murmuring to himself as he picks through them. Robin's laughing at him, and Stevie's chest feels warm in their presence.

"Hey! There's the birthday girl." Eddie grins when he sees her, and then looks back down at the gift pile to select a box-shaped one that's wrapped in purple polka-dot paper.

Stevie sits next to Robin, and tilts her head to rest on her shoulder as she watches her boyfriend make a sound of celebration when he holds up the gift.

"I was gonna save this gift for last, but after that shitshow I just- here, babygirl." He holds it out to Stevie with a softer smile on his face (Robin calls it his Stevie Smile), and Stevie takes it with gentle hands.

"It's from him and me, by the way. Don't let dingus 2 take all the credit." Robin adds on. Eddie just rolls his eyes and nods, and then starts to talk as Stevie carefully tears the wrapping paper. She's trying to preserve it as much as she can. Wants to keep as much evidence of her first birthday as herself as she can.

"I hope we got the right one. It was kinda hard to find, but I went to a bunch of flea markets and I remember you talking about how when you were younger you wanted it but your mom wouldn't let you and-"

Eddie cuts himself off when Stevie finally tears enough wrapping paper away to see the beginnings of the Barbie logo and gasps. Tears are already brewing in her eyes, and maybe one or two drip onto the precious wrapping paper as she manages to slide it off to reveal-

"Ballerina Barbie." She whispers, staring down at the doll. Her hands are shaking a little, and she feels so incredibly wobbly and warm.

She can't believe Eddie remembers what she said about the moment she knew she wasn't a boy the way she was supposed to be. How her mom had snatched the toy out of her hands in the toystore and replaced it with a car set.

"Is it the right one?" Eddie asks after a moment, and Stevie lifts her head to see him chewing nervously on his lip.

Instead of speaking, she wordlessly gestures for him to join her and Robin on the couch and promptly throws an arm around each of them for a much needed cuddle.

"It's perfect." She says to both of them, and gets twin squeezes to each side. A couple more tears slip out as she looks at the pile of gifts she still has to go through, "I can't believe you guys did all this for me."

"We love you, Stevie-bee." Robin says simply. Like that explains everything. Like it makes perfect sense.

"Yeah, we gotta treat our girl the way she deserves." Eddie adds on.

And Stevie thinks that maybe it does make perfect sense. After all, she'd go the same length for either of them.

#steddie #stobin #stevie harrington #trans steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #the party aren't transphobes to be clear they just literally do not know #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting #steve harrington #eddie munson

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syrikif · 1 year

Text

Gamer Etiquette

Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader

Genre: SMAU + Written, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU

Content Warnings: Sexual jokes/content, mention of death threats, mature language

Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.

But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.

Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.

Created: October 6, 2023 Completed: (Ongoing) Update Schedule: I’m currently in the process of moving so just whenever I can :)

Masterlist:

Important Profiles: Y/N's Group Kenma's Group Prologue: Daddy Kink Cat Distribution System Chapter 1: Thirst Trap Hospital Food Chapter 2: Bedwars 🖊 Boredom 🖊 Chapter 3: Trending One Game Chapter 4: Calm Guilt 🖊 Chapter 5: Unhinged One in a Million Chapter 6: Cuddle Buddies 🖊 Casual Chapter 7: Rating The Cat Girl Chapter 8: A Dozen Men Little Things 🖊 Chapter 9: Scaredy Kitten Disappearing Act Chapter 10: Chapter 11: tbc . . .

Author's Notes:

Hey guys! This is my first post on Tumblr and the first SMAU I've ever written. Which, kudos to everyone else who makes SMAU's because they are a lot of work.

Just some basic info before you begin reading:

Y/N uses she/her pronouns and is feminine presenting.

Every chapter will have two parts, one part from Y/N's point of view and one part from Kenma's; the order will differ depending on the chapter.

Every update will be a double post so make sure you know you’re reading the correct one first, and reading both of them.

Time stamps don't really matter unless explicitly written by me so you can just ignore them :)

There will be both written and social media elements; written parts will be marked with a pen (🖊).

And I'm gonna be honest, while I love the anime I haven't actually watched it in a long time and I was never able to finish season three. That being said, if anything I write seems out of character for anyone just bear with me I'm trying my best lol.

Please feel free to give me any feedback and/or criticism to help me improve. And if any of the links aren't working just let me know and I'll try to get it fixed ASAP.

If you have any questions, don't feel too shy and reach out if possible; I promise I'll answer to the best of my ability.

(Also, just comment if you'd like to be on the taglist.)

Hope you enjoy the story :)

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moonlightpetalz6 · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day 9 (Lactation)

Character: Dad Mammon x Mom Reader

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, small breeding kink, whiney Mammon, unprotected sex, harsh language, tit fucking, breast milk, pet names (Mamma, daddy, honey, etc.),

Wc: 3,298

A/n: I feel like I didn't do this one much justice, but I had fun writing it! I hope you enjoy! I tried to get all the warnings written above! I apologize if I missed any! (S/n = Son's name).

______________________________________________________________

"Hey, now be gentle, S/n!" You whined, feeling your son's tiny teeth starting to nibble against your sore nipple, his bright and innocent eyes looking right up at you. You smile, letting out a small coo as you playfully boop his nose. "You're so lucky you have your daddy's eyes~ I can never stay mad at you~" You gushed, a giggle escaping when S/n reached one of his grubby little hands towards your finger, carefully gripping the digit between his chubby flesh. Your happy thoughts are stopped when a dark and menacing aura emerges from the other side of the baby. You let your eyes travel over to the pouting face of your loving and childish husband, who rocked back and forth in one of the rocking chairs as he quietly chewed on his thumb.

"What's up with you? You're going to upset the baby." You grumble, giving your husband a slight glare as your son squirms in your arms. Mammon scoffs, turning his head away from you, the pout still evident on his face. "He's hogging you all to himself." He growls. It wasn't like Mammon hated his son.

On the contrary, he absolutely adored the little bundle that was a perfect mix between you and him. When you told him you were pregnant, he felt so much joy that he ran around the entire devildom, bragging to anyone he could while buying all sorts of baby items for boys and girls, not caring what it would be as long as it was healthy. However, there was one thing the avatar of greed failed to consider. Having to share his precious wife is the one thing his greedy mind could never handle.

After hearing his words, you roll your eyes at such a childish reason for your husband's sour mood. "Honestly, Mammon, you're ridiculous!" You huffed before turning your attention back to your son, watching as his eyes slowly started to close, indicating that it was time for a nap. You let out a few small hums, allowing him to finish getting his fill for the day. On the other hand, Mammon stared deeply at your tired expression, the bags under your eyes becoming more noticeable by the day, along with your messy hair and baggy clothes. He didn't mind you not dressing up because it just meant that no other guy would be eyeing you with their lustful gazes. The demon's eyes soon fall on your breasts, having grown immensely since your pregnancy, each mound filled with your precious milk. Mammon recalls a conversation with his brother Beelzebub a few days ago.

______

The two watched you from across the living room, feeding your hungry son, who happily latched onto one of your swollen mounds. "I wonder how it tastes…" Beelzebub mumbled without thinking as he stared longingly at your form, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, eyes hungrily taking in your exposed flesh. Mammon growled at his brother's words, shooting him a warning glare as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Watch it, Beel! I'll kill you, dammit." Your husband growled, feeling possessive of his human wife. Beelzebub puts a hand up in self-defense, his hungry gaze leaving you to look at his brother. "Sorry, I can't help myself." The avatar of gluttony mumbles his stomach, rumbling loudly, causing your baby to pull away with a loud cry.

Mammon quickly looked your way, his eyes catching the brief glimpse of your exposed nipple. His pupils dilate when he takes in the perked nipple, the tiny bite marks from your son's incoming teeth engraved into the tender skin. To his dismay, you quickly cover up as you try to comfort your son while giving Beelzebub an understanding smile as the demon panics while trying to calm his nephew down. Your husband stood there, bangs falling in his face as he went and licked his lips, a new greedy thought appearing in his selfish mind.

______

You let out a small sigh as you exit your son's room, Mammon close behind as he carefully shuts the door. "You look exhausted, mamma~" The demon cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving a few tender kisses. You relax at the feeling, leaning closer into his chest as his hands carefully rub up and down your sides, a content hum leaving your lips. "I am tired. I love my cute little S/n, but he just won't sleep properly, not to mention he's been teething a lot more lately, so I haven't been able to feed him properly." You sigh, tossing your head to the side when you feel Mammon's tongue trail up your neck as he places a few kisses against your jaw.

He lets out a slight hum at your words, raising a brow in curiosity as he looks up at you while resting his chin on your shoulder. "I have noticed the little rascal leaving more bite marks on me, but what do you mean you haven't been able to feed him properly?" His eyes trail down to the top of your low-cut shirt, your cleavage highly exposed as the shirt desperately clings to the flesh. Your husband enjoys the view as he backs his lower half away from you, feeling his pants getting tighter at the sight. You blush slightly while glancing in both directions of the hallway, causing the demon to grow even more curious at what you could say. You motion for him to come closer as you whisper in his ear. "Because of his teeth, it hurts too much when he's feeding, and I haven't had time to buy a pump yet." Your words cause Mammon to frown, not understanding what you meant. Seeing this, you bite your lip as you debate, telling your husband more before letting out a small sigh. "My breasts are full, and it's becoming painful, so I need to buy a pump to get the milk out and give it to S/n in a bottle." You mumbled, ears turning red from embarrassment.

Mammon takes a second to process your words, his eyes going wide once everything clicks before a mischievous smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. "Oh? Is that right?" He teasingly sings, his hands slowly making their way up your torso. You give a silent nod, too embarrassed to say anything else. "My poor wife~" Mammon playfully cries before his hands lightly grope at your swollen breasts, earning a loud gasp from you, your smaller hands shooting up to push him away from the sensitive flesh. "M-Mammon! Stop it!" You hiss, shooting at him with a warning glare, to which he just smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He doesn't budge as he lightly massages your breasts in the hallway, not caring for anyone who could stumble upon his shameless act.

You let out a small moan from your husband's movements before feeling your shirt dampen, causing your eyes to widen as you tried to push him away again. "Come on, if you don't stop, you will ruin my top!" You whined, trying to devise any excuse to escape the embarrassing position. Mammon's fingers came to a quick halt when they pressed against the now wet fabric, his eyes narrowing as he looked over your shoulder, seeing the two soaked spots where each nipple sat. "Y/n…is that what I think it is?" His tone is deep as he whispers into your ear, teeth lightly grazing the skin, sending a shiver throughout your body. He hums at your silence, his fingers teasingly pinching at the leaking buds, making your back arch as your knees give out. Mammon is quick to catch you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lets out an amused chuckle that slightly echoes throughout the hall.

"Let me help you out mamma~ Your husband has been feeling extra greedy lately~" He cooed before sweeping you up his legs and taking him as fast as they could to your shared bedroom. Once inside, the avatar of greed couldn't keep his hands off you as he sat you on the edge of the bed. "You're such a good mamma, baby~" He moaned as he slowly sucked on one of your clothed breasts, his tongue lightly tasting the milk that had seeped through. You whine at the sudden feeling, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your weak moans. Mammon sucks at the spot for a few more seconds before moving to the other, leaving darker wet spots. "Is this helping baby? Does it feel any better?" Your eyes soften at how sweet his tone is as you carefully caress the back of his head, earning a slight hum as he glances up at your lips, still sucking on the soaked fabric.

"I don't like the feeling of the fabric." You confess, cheeks pink as you look into his eyes. He pulls away carefully, standing up from his kneeled position, body now looming over yours. "Raise your hands, baby." You do as told, hissing when he starts pulling the fabric off. He shushes you, giving a small kiss to your forehead before taking a step back, multicolor eyes taking in the sight of your swollen tits, a ball of saliva struggling to get down his throat as he tosses the shirt to the side. He caresses your cheek while lightly trailing his fingers across each mound. "Such a good wife just for me." He growls, loving how you were letting him toy with your chest as he goes and scoots you further onto the bed. Once he thought you were positioned far enough, he quickly pinned you, watching your breasts bounce around.

Before you know it, he hungrily takes one into his mouth while one hand carefully squeezes at the other to relieve himself. You whimper at the sudden feeling as you grip the sheets. Mammon lets out a shaky moan when his mouth fills with the milk from your sensitive bud, his taste buds going insane over the new flavor. 'She was keeping this from me this whole time. What a naughty wife.' He thought, glancing up to see the cute face of his lover, all red, your lips slightly parted as shaky breaths filled his ears. He pulls away with a small pop, his tongue darting to lick at any leaked milk. "So tasty your milk is so fucking good, baby~" He moaned, cheeks flushed while caressing your cheek.

"P-please suck on the other one…" You shyly pant, wanting the painful feeling to go away. Smiling at your request, Mammon hovers over your other mound, his mouth open as he carefully squeezes the flesh with one hand. You watch as the white liquid shoots out onto his tongue, causing your insides to feel warm as you lightly press your legs together. Mammon continues his assault on your tender flesh, unable to get enough of your sweet taste. "Fuck… can't wait to brag to Beel about your sweet tits." He growls against the flesh, his greed showing as he refuses to remove his lips when he feels your hand push at his head. You whine at the feeling of your breasts being toyed with as Mammon tries to suck them dry. "M-Mammon honey, you're doing too much! They're really sensitive." You whined, trying to pull your husband from his greed.

Unfortunately, he was too far gone as he pulled away from your sore nipple, watching the swollen bud glisten with spit, his breathing heavy and eyes clouded with lust. "Hey baby…let me fuck them." He breathes as he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection dripping with precum. You look up at him in a daze, still trying to recover from the pleasure and relief your poor tits were experiencing all at once. "W-what?" You breathe, trying to prop yourself up with an elbow, only for your husband to push you back down, straddling your torso as he slowly pumps his cock. He looks at you hungrily while licking his lips, giving his stupid grin whenever he knows he will get what he wants no matter what.

"Let me fuck your tits, babe; I wanna see just how swollen they are~" He sings while sliding his cock between your breasts, both hands squeezing the mounds together as he starts moving his hips, tossing his head back in pleasure. A shaky growl escapes his throat, followed by a loud laugh. "Fuck baby, your breasts are suffocating my cock~ Just look at it disappearing~" He moaned, completely taken over by lust as his thrusts started picking up. You whine, eyes watching as his leaking tip pokes out at your face, a line of precum beginning to provide a lubricant between your mounds. "Mm, that's right, mamma keep watching~ open that pretty mouth for me, yeah?" He growls, squeezing at your tits and watching them leak under his hands. "Fuck." He cursed, his eyes trailing to your pretty lips as he watched you slowly stick your tongue out to lick the tip as it poked back at you, earning a slight hiss from the demon. "Don't tease." He scolds a slight pout on his lips before bucking his hips forward, this time more aggressively as he goes and shoves his cock deep into your mouth, causing a small, muffled squeak to leave your lips.

"That's right, baby…fuck so good. You're so fucking sexy." He whined while bringing a hand up to his mouth, licking at the milk, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, thrusts becoming sloppier. You just watched him as his cock slipped in and out of your mouth, your pussy dripping with arousal from this sudden change in your husband's behavior. Usually, he was never this horny in bed, but after having tasted the precious milk, his son had been hogging for the last few months, there was no stopping him. Mammon's chest heaves as he cups both your cheeks, a fucked-out expression on his face. "I'm gonna cum all over your sexy tits, my sexy wife~ So watch me, okay? Otherwise, I'll be so upset~" He whines, pulling his cock from your mouth to give it a few more pumps before biting his lip as his hips buck forward, white strands of semen spraying all over your messy breasts.

Mammon sits there, eyes lidded as he looks down at you, his mind all fuzzy from having reached his release. You look up at him, eyes wide in awe as you take in the beautiful sight before you. "Mammon… you're so handsome." You whisper, unable to take your eyes off your demon husband as his chest rises and falls, mouth parted. He looks down at you, cheeks red and eyes practically hearts. "Hmm?~ I'm handsome, yeah?" He purrs, a hand sliding behind him as he reaches into your pants, his fingers instantly coming in contact with your slick eyes widening. He looked back to make sure he wasn't imagining it due to his fuzzy mind as he went and slipped a finger into your pussy with ease, the wet noises echoing throughout the room.

"Fuck Y/n… you're so wet just from me sucking and fucking your tits? Have I been neglecting my beautiful wife?" He coos, slipping another finger inside, watching your expression change as you squirm under his weight. "N-No, just been so busy with S/n…ah~ that I just haven't had any time for t-this!" You cry, feeling Mammon's fingers curl inside, barely brushing against that spot he knows will drive you crazy. A pout falls on his face as he shakes his head, letting out a few disappointed tuts. "That's not good, baby! Why didn't you tell me I would've taken care of you sooner!" He scolded while pumping his half-hard cock, feeling himself more turned on the longer he stared at your cum covered tits. You whine as you try to arch yourself off the bed to no avail because your husband's weight is still on top of you.

"M-mammon honey, please!" You beg, reaching a hand up to him, watching as he lightly bit a finger, his eyes locked with yours. "I-I want you deep inside me before it's too late!" You cry, tears forming in your eyes due to your desperation. Mammon smirks, quickly changing his position as he spreads your legs apart, watching your slick drip onto the sheets. "So, fucking filthy baby…just how I love you~" He chuckles before quickly slipping his cock into your needy pussy, watching as your back arched while you gripped the sheets, a loud moan leaving your lips. Mammon hums his hips, moving at an inhuman pace as he relishes in the pleasure of your walls squeezing around his aching length. "Fuck! Fuck so good, baby~ Your pussy is amazing!" He cries, his eyes landing back on your tits, watching them leak with each bounce.

"So fucking sexy…just look at them leaking~" He laughs while wrapping an arm around your back, quickly lifting your upper half as he had you sit on his lap, hands grasping your hips so tight they'd leave bruises later. He hums, wrapping his lips around a sensitive mound, body shaking as he lets out multiple whines cock still pounding into your abused hole. "Want all of it… it's all mine, dammit!" The last part came out as a possessive growl as he lightly pulled the bud between his teeth, causing a small scream to leave your lips. "S-such a greedy demon…this is for S/n." You scold lightly, hitting him on the head. Mammon growls as he kisses your lips, his tongue invading every inch of your mouth.

"That's right, I'm your greedy husband~ So. Fucking. Greedy!" He emphasizes the last three words, the feeling of his cock hitting the entrance to your womb each time. A few cries leave your lips as you sloppily kiss his neck, leaving minor bruises wherever possible. Mammon hums, his thrusts getting sloppy as he feels your walls clench around him. "Are you getting close, baby? Are you going to cum for the daddy of your baby?" He growls, his grip tightening as he gets ready to firmly press your hips down. He glances at your breasts, his cock twitching with excitement. "Fuck they bounce so good I just can't get enough!" He whined, leaving a few kisses on your lips, unable to handle anymore as he pushed deep inside you. "M-mammon! I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum from your cock so deep inside me!" You cry, wrapping your arms around his neck. Mammon smiles, loving how you cried out from his cock as he went to whisper in your ear.

"Maybe I should make you pregnant again, huh? Keep your tits nice and full for daddy and the kids~" His words have you cumming, hard eyes rolling far back into your head as he shoots his release deep into your womb, letting out a pathetic whine as he kisses your breasts.

"I'll make you a mama forever~"

_____

Mammon hummed happily as he rocked back and forth in the chair, his aura pure and blinding as he watched his beautiful wife feed their son. "S/n mamma, is such a wonderful woman, right?" He gushed to the baby, who looked at him with no thoughts behind those innocent eyes. You roll your eyes, a slight blush on your cheeks as you carefully fix your top when your son finishes his fill. "There, there S/n! Don't listen to daddy, he's an idiot!" You scold while patting your son's back, ready for him to burp. Mammon pouts at your words before his eyes land on your breasts; his mind starts to wander into dark territory before your son throwing up catches his ears.

"DON'T WASTE IT!"

#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #obey me x female reader #obey me x y/n #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon avatar of greed #mammon smut #mammon x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #x reader #kinktober 2023 #fanfic smut #smut

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wardenparker · 5 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring. Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park. Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.

Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."

“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.

“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”

“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.

He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.

“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”

“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”

“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"

“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”

Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."

“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."

He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.

"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.

Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”

"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."

“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.

"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.

“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.

"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.

“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”

"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."

“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”

"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.

The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.

There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.

The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.

Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.

“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.

“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”

“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”

Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”

“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.

“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”

“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.

“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.

“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”

Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.

It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”

“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”

“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.

“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”

Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.

When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”

"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."

“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”

"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."

Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”

"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.

“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”

Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."

“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”

"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."

“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”

"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.

Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”

"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."

There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”

“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”

“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”

You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.

The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”

The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."

“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”

"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."

“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”

"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.

“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”

The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.

“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”

For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.

Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.

A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.

“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.

"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."

"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."

Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”

"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."

"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."

She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”

"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."

“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”

"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."

Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.

"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."

“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.

"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.

Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.

"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."

“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.

"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."

“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”

Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”

“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.

That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.

“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”

“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”

“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”

“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.

Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.

“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”

"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."

Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”

"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."

“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”

"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."

“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”

"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.

The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”

"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."

“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”

"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."

“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.

"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."

Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”

“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”

“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”

“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”

“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”

“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”

“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.

“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.

"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."

“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”

"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"

“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”

He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."

“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.

"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."

“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.

You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."

“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.

"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.

“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”

"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."

“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.

"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."

“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.

"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."

"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."

“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”

For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.

“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.

“It’s beautiful.” It��s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”

“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.

“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.

“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”

“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”

“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”

“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.

Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”

“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.

“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.

“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”

“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”

“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”

“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”

“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”

“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”

“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”

“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”

“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”

“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”

“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.

“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.

“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”

“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.

"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.

“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.

"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."

Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”

"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.

“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”

When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"

“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.

Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."

“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.

"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.

“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”

"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.

“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”

"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.

“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.

"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."

“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”

"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.

“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”

"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."

“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.

“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”

“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”

“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.

“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”

“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”

“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”

“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”

“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”

“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”

There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”

“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”

“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”

“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”

“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.

“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”

“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”

“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.

“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”

“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.

“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”

“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”

“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”

“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.

Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.

Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.

“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”

"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.

“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”

"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.

“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”

"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."

“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”

"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.

“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.

“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.

“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.

“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.

Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”

“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.

"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."

“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”

"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."

He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”

Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."

He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.

"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"

“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.

"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.

His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”

"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."

“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”

"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.

“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.

"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.

“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”

The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.

“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”

"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."

“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”

"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."

“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”

"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."

“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.

“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.

“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”

“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”

“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”

“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”

“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.

“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.

“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.

“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.

“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.

“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”

“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”

“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”

“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.

“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”

“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”

“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.

“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”

“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.

“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.

"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.

“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.

"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."

You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.

"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"

“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”

"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"

“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”

Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."

“Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”

"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."

“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”

"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."

“So after that birthday….um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”

"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."

“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.

The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."

“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.

"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."

“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”

"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.

“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.

"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."

“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.

"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.

“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”

Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."

“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”

You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."

“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”

“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”

“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”

“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”

“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”

“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”

“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”

“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”

“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”

“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”

“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”

“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”

“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”

“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”

“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”

“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.

“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.

“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”

He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”

“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”

______

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

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

My Masterlist!

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

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hurpdurpburps · 3 months

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Kozakura and Toriko

SPOILER WARNING: major spoilers up to Vol 8 of the novels, screenshots of the manga-exclusive Kozakura POV Special Chapter 10 and two passing mentions of minor character development in Vol 9 of the novel (currently only in Japanese).

Vol 10 of the English manga was released yesterday, and re-reading the Kozakura POV Special Chapter at the end reminded me why it was actually my favourite of all the ones published so far, and why I am so enamoured with Kozakura as a character.

I know that a lot of the fandom is amused by the idea of Sorawo having a harem (and it's true - Miyazawa straight up confirms Runa's crush in Vol 9 and has regularly insinuated at Kozakura's feelings throughout the volumes), but I think not nearly enough people talk about Kozakura's dynamic with Toriko, or how the story unfolds from her perspective as literally the "only grown-up in the room" before Migiwa's introduction.

So this post is gonna talk about that.

There are multiple times where the story depicts Kozakura favouring Sorawo over Toriko, such as in when she asked Sorawo to accompany her back home because she was scared, or when she decided to call only Sorawo to go over to her house to collect the free hot springs tickets. A lot of people chalk it up to Kozakura liking Sorawo, but if anything I think this behaviour is more of a manifestation of the lack of guilt towards her, compared to the boatload she has towards Toriko.

In the novels, we as readers feel the disgust and dread from Sorawo's POV as someone retroactively discovering that her friend was a victim of grooming.

But what about Kozakura? If you think about the OP character chart from a bird's eye view, she wasn't a victim - nor exactly an innocent bystander. If anything, she'd be an accessory to a predator, being a late-20s/early-30s adult witnessing her similar-aged coworker rope in who was a literal teenager at the time to traversing and exploring a creepy af alternate reality, and doing absolutely fuck all about it.

Miyazawa made a deliberate decision here, to write in no uncertain terms, that Kozakura was conscious of what Satsuki was doing to Toriko, or the impropriety lurking beneath the dynamics of their "tutor-student" relationship. Kozakura saw it coming - his writing leaves no room for other interpretations - and she let it happen.

And how does she cope with this guilt? Kozakura could've avoided Toriko's attempts at reaching out after Satsuki's disappearance. It would've been easy I think, for Kozakura to simply break off all contact. A simple "our mutual friend is gone so bye" would've sufficed to send Toriko packing for good. Toriko is an abysmally shy girl - and unlike Sorawo, Kozakura knew that side of her from the start. Kozakura is clearly not afraid or incapable of conveying her displeasure, but nonetheless makes the conscious, harder decision to make Toriko feel comfortable enough to stick around.

Kozakura unexpectedly grows more accustomed to taking care of Toriko, plus her new sidekick Sorawo, over time. So much so that by the time Vol 6 rolls around, she pretty much gives up her house and lets our dynamic duo do what they want. By extension, I think her guilt over not doing anything to help Toriko in the past was a driving factor behind her decision to take in Kasumi. In a sense, it's a do-over, and now she's right there from the start to make sure the train doesn't derail. I'm happy to reveal that her efforts have paid off - Kasumi's communication abilities have greatly improved in Vol 9. Now the kid says hi, eats ice cream on the couch obediently when ordered to do so, and quotes entire Wikipedia pages psychically or whatever.

The complicated vortex of envy, jealousy and guilt doesn't stop Kozakura from trying to do right by Toriko, but that doesn't mean it's easy to face her either. Coupled with Sorawo's many similarities to her missing crush (emotional erh, robustness, vague physical resemblance, bravery regarding all things Otherside) and the lack of a complicated interpersonal history, it's no wonder why Kozakura intuitively prefers talking to our protagonist than the poor Bird Girl she allowed to be manipulated. And I don't think she's very conscious of this inclination herself.

Personally, I prefer this interpretation of Kozakura's behaviour, rather than the more popular everyone-likes-Sorawo take (not that it's not valid, unsupported, or fun). Also, this is my all-vibes no-evidence theory, but Kozakura totally seems to me like someone who'd only be into older women, not younger...

But that's probably just me projecting. I relate to Kozakura's position quite a bit, as a late-20s woman who leads a team of mostly early-20s younger women fresh out of university, like a naggy mother hen.

Many stories depict difficult situations from the eyes of a victim, survivor, or even perpetrator, but not enough explore the guilt of someone who acknowledges that she could've stopped a bad thing from happening, in my opinion. And she forces herself to atone by proactively keeping an eye for these girls. While maintaining that superior holier-than-thou attitude towards her kids lol. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh I love Miyzawa's takes so much.

This is a 5am, caffeine-fueled ramble. It's not particularly insightful or profound, but I have a lot of energy right now and decided to pen down these surging thoughts.

And yeah - buy the manga! The Kozakura POV shorts add such a rich dimension to these already-deeply introspective novels, and personally I think it really highlights Miyazawa's hyperawareness of complicated, problematic interpersonal dynamics.

PS. I wonder how many volumes we have to reach before finally knowing Kozakura's first name lol.

#otherside picnic #urasekai picnic #裏世界ピクニック #toriko nishina #kozakura

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mysticheathenn · 7 months

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How Are You Outgrowing Your Oldself?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about who are you becoming by releasing your old self and the many blessings that come with releasing your old self. This is a Patreon Reading for all tiers.

Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help and is for entertainment purposes.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Extended Patreon Includes:

How are you outgrowing your old self?

What changes will occur from releasing your old self?

Extra Messages

MasterList

Patreon Link

Ko-Fi Donations

Sidenote: Love reading will be posted tomorrow

Who are you now? Tarot: 4 of Cups, Death, 8 of Swords, Queen of Wands (reversed), 5 of Wands, Ace of Swords (reversed)

This is my mental pile and when I mean mental I am not speaking crazy...unless you feel that way then carry on. When I say mental I mean you are constantly always in your head and not for the better. The phrase "I'm thinking" as someone says "That can't be good" may refer to you whenever you think because it's never a good thing. You're either dealing with imposter syndrome, self-doubt, low self-esteem, lack mentality, or just a doubt in your overall being as if you were placed on this earth to just exist and die. That's not true pile l. Some of you probably resist change because you fear success or failure. Some of this may have been residing in you since childhood/adolescence. While others of you this has been developing constantly over time as an adult just festering waiting to pop. Waiting for you to break. But then some of you are just comfortable in your little corner...Cinderella may have been your favorite movie or you probably resonate with her a lot, growing up in a "Be seen and not heard" household. The Song "In My Own Little Corner - Brandy (Cinderella) song is playing in my head Link to Song. The thing is I feel a lot of you have amazing dreams, ideas, and goals that you want to achieve but won't go after it because of what others or worse yourself have implanted in your head. You were meant for change,. You are not meant to be hidden in a corner because "No one puts baby in the corner" - Dirty Dancing (1987 Link to clip) If you haven't seen the original you are missing out. I feel the movie will speak to you, especially the main female character. Patreon Post Link

Pile ll:

Who are you now? Tarot: 10 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, The Magician (reversed), Page of Cups, 4 of Wands, 5 of Cups (reversed)

Two different energies in this group...first one is "All About the Benjamins Baby" (Song Clip) is the phrase I heard in my head. Some of you possibly could have gone through a breakup or at least someone betrayed you whether it's your trust, or just hurt you in general that you closed yourself off to love and happiness and started chasing money instead. IF this isn't you then you are part of the very few who believe that they can't have it all. Similar to pile one but with different energy. Believing that the house with the picket fence dog and kids is not in your future, financial abundance is not in your future and etc. But overall I am getting the vibe that this pile is trying to get their money up. Fuck love and happiness, you can cry in a Ferrari or private jet later when you get your money up. I feel you pile ll I definitely feel you on that. Yea some of you something or someone betrayed you because the quote from Moulin Rouge movie "Betrayal. When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there can be no love." just played in my head (Link to clip) (Sidenote: Amazing movie, be warned it is a musical and a tearjerker). Overall you don't know how and who to trust. Whichever side you are on if you are all about the benjamins you don't know how to trust others anymore and on your "demon time" , city girls, hot girl summer, era or those who agree more on not believing good things will happen for them you don't know how to trust yourself, god, the divine, universe, etc. You are operating in an energy that you truly don't believe or is who you are. Some of you probably listen to the music but don't fully resonate with the lyrics because you are a lover and giver at heart. Patreon Post Link

Pile lll:

Who are you now? Tarot: King of Swords, Ace of Swords, Page of Swords, 5 of Swords, 3 of Swords (reversed), Ace of Pentacles (reversed)

"It's all in my head. I think about it over and over again" - Over and Over by Nelly Ft Time McGraw (Song Link). Omg pile lll I hate being in your energy right now because I feel anxious, depressed, and just so many other mental things. You literally have nothing but swords in your deck and one pentacle. In case you aren't into tarot swords is all about the mental (beliefs, attitude, consciousness, etc). It's like you are constantly thinking a mile a minute. You never shut off your brain it's one thing or another. Either way, you are your own enemy. No one else. You remind me of another reading I did recently so this message may still be for some of you who didn't hear the first time this message came around. You are causing your depression, anxiety, etc. You are your own competition and nobody else is even though you believe that you have competition. You really don't you might be the type of person who hates going to public places like the gym or grocery shopping because you feel everyone is judging you or thinking about you when in reality they are thinking about what are they going to do later on or if they need to take a poop. Social anxiety is definitely here in this pile (remember I'm not a doctor so take head to any mental disorders or illness I mention). I See perfectionism as well. This may stem from parents growing up not accepting anything less than 100% on anything you did. Storytime: I had a friend who made a 95 on a test and his dad asked where is the other 5 points. You may have grown up in that kind of environment that led to this or this could have developed over time once you joined the workforce and had bosses and etc in your face constantly telling you horrible things, etc. I am going to say this to you pile lll. Do the thing. Do it scared. Do it unprepared. Do it with no experience. Do it. Do it. Do it. Nike that hoe. It will bring you abundance but you will never know because you are constantly overthinking everything and dealing with perfectionism. Patreon Post Link

I hope you enjoyed this reading. Thanks to everyone who likes, reblogs my posts, and joins my Patreon. I always appreciate you <3.

Until Next time stay blessed and be safe.

#spirituality #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #witchblr #pick a card #tarot cards #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a picture #pick an image #pick a photo #paganblr

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adoribullpavus · 6 months

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EXCITING NEWS GUYS

i have started development on my first ever renpy game. i'm so excited since this is something i've wanted to do for a while now, but renpy always kinda scared me. but i've finally put it into action and i'm really looking forward to the journey ahead.

the game is still in extremely early development, but i have planned an outline of the plot, written some scripts, and have come up with so many ideas i want to share with you all.

as you can see, it is a dai fan game. if anyone knows if i can get sued for this, please let me know lmao

i don't want to give too much away but here are some features i'm planning to include:

you can choose from 17 different characters to play as (12 will be available straight off the bat, and 5 will be secret routes that are unlocked via other routes). these are all characters from inquisition.

you get to decide who your character ends up with, or even stay single if you want to be.

you can end up in a polyamorous relationship with (almost) free reign as to which characters that relationship includes.

no two routes are the same. each route will have the same plot but you can make it your own through your choices. remember; just because picking option b worked for your dorian playthrough, doesn't mean it'll work when you're playing as cullen.

there are a LOT of choices that genuinely impact the direction of the story.

each character has a bunch of different endings and they're all carefully tailored to your decisions.

as the game is still in early development, with only a faint outline holding it together, plans can change. however, as far as i know, this is how many endings each character can have:

the dorian route has 8 endings and 7 secret endings.

the iron bull route has 11 endings and 6 secret endings.

the varric route has 10 endings and 6 secret endings.

the cullen route has 10 endings and 5 secret endings.

the sera route has 6 endings and 5 secret endings.

the leliana route has 11 endings and 7 secret endings.

the cole route as 3 endings and 4 secret endings.

the josephine route has 11 endings and 5 secret endings.

the blackwall route has 10 endings and 3 secret endings.

the cassandra route has 9 endings and 6 secret endings.

the solas route has 10 endings and 3 secret endings.

the vivienne route has 3 endings and no secret endings.

i have tried to provide as much freedom as possible when it comes to pairings, but there are a few exceptions:

dorian and sera are still gay/lesbian and can only be romanced by characters of the same gender - so naturally they will have less endings as their options are restricted.

cole doesn't have a lot of romantic endings as there were only one or two characters i felt comfortable writing him with (so far only dorian has a cole romance ending, and cole has three secret romantic endings). this could change in the future but definitely not for characters such as varric and solas who cole shares a very parental relationship with., or for vivienne due to the power difference between them that would make me extremely uncomfortable to write.

vivienne also doesn't have a lot of romantic endings but that's more to do with the fact i struggle to write her in romantic scenes. again, this could change.

the rest are all free to romance whoever they want. cullen can romance a man (or two or three). cassandra can romance a woman (or two or three). basically there's no such thing as straight in this game. go nuts.

i will keep you all updated as i progress. the game will take a long while to create and i would appreciate any advice/help/suggestions etc to make it enjoyable for everyone. i would also appreciate the support from you guys as i dive into my first game making experience.

but just remember i am a single 20 year old girl who's doing this in her free time. i don't have a huge team behind me so the game is going to take a lot of time and effort to become something playable.

follow the tag ' #the dai kissing game ' if you want to keep updated on the game's progress.

thank you guys!!

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hollowed-theory-hall · 5 months

Note

Any HC's on what's going on with Luna?

Hi, so I really like Luna as a character, and I've seen various theories about her being a seer, which at least used to be popular in fic, but I never got that impression from her. Personally, I don't think there's anything magical going on with Luna. I think she's just a girl with imagination, a sense of whimsy, and some trauma of her own who chose to handle it through her internal little world rather than anger and other more externalized ways to cope.

So, this kinda ended up being a bit of a character study on Luna...

Pandora Lovegood & Luna's Trauma

One of the major moments in Luna's life that really changed her worldview and approach to people and the world was her mother's death:

“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve known ever died?” “Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.” “I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. “Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.”

(OotP, 863)

I want to talk about her mother, her death, and Luna's general outlook on death and tragedy which explains a lot of her characters.

So Pandora Lovegood experimented with spells and one went badly enough to kill her in front of her 9-year-old daughter. This is why Luna can see Thestrals and hear voices from beyond the veil like Harry and Neville. But Luna, at her soul is an optimist and a very brave one at that. This is something that she doesn't share with her father, which I'd get to, so I think her outlook on life and death is actually something she learned from her mother.

Luna prefers to look at the half-full part of the glass. She is choosing not to get too sad over things or bothered over her bullying (which I'll get to). The main point is that Luna's way of dealing with the hardship and trauma of watching her mother die is to feel the sadness of it, but not let herself wallow in it. She keeps pushing herself forward.

I headcanon Luna took her mother's death to embrace her mother's outlook on life. That things will always be fine, that they'd always work out. I don't think Luna knows for certain everything will be fine, but she chooses to believe it will be and you see it with her later in the books as well.

“I was saying, what are those horse things?” Harry said, as he, Ron, and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting. [...] “It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach’s dark interior. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them too.” “Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes. “Oh yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.” Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

(OotP, 198-199)

Again, this shows her way of dealing with death and loss that ended up helping Harry. She sees the Thestrals and instead of being discomforted by them and the loss they remind her of (like Neville and Theodore Nott), she tries to smile, to take comfort in the reminder of her mother. "It's sad that she's dead, but it's okay, things will be okay", it's not a direct quote, but I feel it summarises Luna's outlook on loss and negative life experiences in general.

Xenophilius and the Quibbler

As I mentioned above, Xenophilius is much less brave and optimistic than Luna, hence why I think she learned her positive outlook from Pandora and not him:

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally, he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She . . . she will like to see you. I’ll go and call her and then—very well. I shall try to help you.” He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. They looked at each other. “Cowardly old wart,” said Ron. “Luna’s got ten times his guts.”

(DH, 347)

I understand him, I really do. He lost his wife, and his daughter is all he has, of course, he's scared of helping Harry. He doesn't want to lose Luna too. But, I headcanon Pandora was like Luna in that regard. She wouldn't have let fear stop her. I mean, she had to be brave to experiment with the kind of dangerous spells that'll kill her.

The other thing I want to note about Xenophilius and Luna is how close they seem to be whenever we see them:

Bidding the wizards farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look—one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today—perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish—do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”

(DH, 124)

They seem very affectionate and close, both with words and I'm sure also physical affection. Luna even mentions she still has her dad when she explains how she handles her mother's loss. I think both of them grew closer and more dependent on each other after Pandora's death. And I think that's what really pulled them both through it. Each other.

I write about it more later in this post, but Luna tends to comfort a lot of characters. Hermione, Ollivanders, Harry, and I think the first person she practiced this with was her father. She is a very empathetic person and she watched loss affect her father first-hand. I think, that after they lost Pandora, Luna did more of the heavy lifting in terms of emotional comfort rather than Xenophilius, who was probably a bit of a wreck.

Now, the third major thing I think Luna learned from her father is his various odd beliefs. To name a few Quibbler article titles from the beginning of OotP:

How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?

CORRUPTION IN THE QUIDDITCH LEAGUE: How the Tornados Are Taking Control

SIRIUS - Black As He’s Painted? Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

We all know they have some odd ideas, and are both very convinced of them. Luna never strays in her belief in the things her father writes about:

Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly. “No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. “Yes, he has,” said Luna. “What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank. “They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —” “They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. “Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily. “I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione. “There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

(OotP, 345)

She actually shows a dislike and anger toward Hermione at first because of how Hermione treats the things she believes in. Luna doesn't get angry often, but when her beliefs are ridiculed in the way Hermione does so, is one of these few times. She doesn't mind being called "Loony", but she cares about her, and her father's beliefs are aggressively questioned. She wouldn't have minded it if Hermione just didn't believe her (like Ron and Ginny) what bothers her is that Hermione doesn't even entertain the possibility of these creatures being real. What angers her is Hermione's closed-mindedness, not that she doesn't agree with her. Luna doesn't mind being alone in her beliefs, she minds closed-minded people who think they know everything, that's what gets her annoyed with Hermione, I think.

Now, I kind of want to discuss why Luna and Xenehpilius believe what they believe. Well, more Xenephilius than Luna, because he taught her most of it and gave her all the evidence she is basing her understanding of all these creatures and conspiracies come from.

Because that's what a lot of these are — conspiracies — and mostly about the Ministry of Magic. These article titles are somewhat like farfetched conspiracy theories like: "NASA hiding a second sun at the center of the Earth" or "Did you know the Earth is actually flat but the government doesn't want you to know" or anything to do with Area 51 and aliens. The articles from the Quibbler sound awfully a lot like that. And it seemed the main reason Xenophilius and Luna believed Harry was because the ministry didn't.

Xenophilius and Luna also believe in miracle cures like gnome venom (as quoted earlier), Gurdyroots and Plumpies:

“May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?” said Xenophilius. “We make it ourselves.” As he started to pour out the drink, which was a deep purple as beetroot juice, he added, “Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plumpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.

(DS, 348)

They are essentially wizard conspiracy theorist hippies.

Basically, Xenophilius and Luna distrust the ministry (rightfully so, as the ministry sucks) but they took their distrust to the extreme. Essentially believing any information from the ministry, or ministry-sanctioned textbooks and newspapers to be false (some of it definitely is false, but not all). If it comes from the ministry it's false in their eyes and therefore everything the ministry doesn't live in is true, even if it doesn't make sense. So what I think is going on with the Lovegoods, and what they are supposed to be, is just conspiracy theorists, who rightfully distrust their government, but took this distrust too far beyond common sense. It doesn't mean all they belive is false, they are actually correct often enough, but not always.

Now, I think, as I said, they have a good reason to distrust the ministry, they just took it a bit far. I actually have a bit of a headcanon about how Xenophilius came to the conclusion that they can't trust ministry.

My headcanon is that it has to do with Pandora's death. We don't really have any indication that Xenophilius believed in everything he did before her death. Neither do we know how exactly the spell killed Pandora. I think the ministry either hid information about Pandora's condition, used some spells she created in their books without giving her credit, or the ministry never sanctioned her spells (we know the ministry does approve spells, Hermione mentions as much in HBP). I'm not sure what exactly went with the ministry, but I headcanon Xenophilius has a personal reason related to Pandora to distrust them.

Loony Luna

We know Luna gets bullied. Her belongings get stolen, other students call her "Loony". And it isn't surprising she gets bullied. children are mean to anyone who is weird and different and Hogwarts has no anti-bullying measures. Literally none, the faculty doesn't care.

What is more interesting is Luna's outlook on her own bullying. It's the same optimistic acceptance of how she treats death.

“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked. “Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “People take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I really do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.” She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough, she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea for their return. An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna. “How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning. “Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd, you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.” Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully. “That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly. “D’you want help finding them?” “Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . . why aren’t you at the feast?”

(OotP, 862-863)

Other Ravenclaws steal her things and hide them, they call her "Loony" and at no point is Luna angry or scared. She is calm and serene and she declines Harry's help because she believes it will all work out. It's the same outlook on death and sadness: "Everything will be fine, just keep your chin up and believe things will be good" That just really seems to be Luna's life philosophy. She faces every problem with optimism and serenity.

Instead of being concerned over her own situation, she actually goes a step further and ask how Harry is doing. Luna goes out of her way to brighten up other people's lives and help them see the good in situations like she can. She is really sweet.

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” said Luna serenely. “It was like having friends.” This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

(HBP, 138)

“Oh, it’s been all right,” said Luna. “A bit lonely without the D.A. Ginny’s been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me ‘Loony’ the other day —”

(HBP, 311)

These are two more examples of Luna's being bullied. She is lonely and didn't really have friends before the D.A. But just like with her missing things, while it makes her sad, she doesn't wallow in it. She looks at the good parts. The happy memories, the fact that Ginny defends her now. Honestly, it's a healthier coping mechanism than what we see with other characters, I'll give her that.

The other interesting note is how honest she is with all of it. She always says things exactly how she believes they are. She doesn't lie or hide information from people, even for their own comfort. I think this has to do with the distrust in the ministry her father and her share.

Essentially, she was raised being told how awful the ministry is for lying to everyone and how it's horrible they hide information from the wizarding world. I think this is part of why she is so honest and straightforward. She really sees hiding information and lying as awful things to do. And, I mean, she's a Ravenclaw for a reason, she likely believes information should be accessible to know and learn, not hidden in the bawls of the ministry. It's all part of her honesty.

Luna's Empathy

Luna is one of the more empathetic characters in the books. I mentioned before how she goes out of her way to encourage and comfort others, and here are some examples I picked up:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you look for your stuff?” he said. “Oh no,” said Luna. “No, I think I’ll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up. . . . It always does in the end. . . . Well, have a nice holiday, Harry.” “Yeah . . . yeah, you too.” She walked away from him, and as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.

(OotP, 864)

Luna is the first person to make Harry feel better after Sirius' death, to tell him life goes on and actually convince him of it. She can empathize with people really weel and tell them what they need to hear.

He finally tracked her [Hermione] down as she emerged from a girls’ bathroom on the floor below. She was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back. “Oh, hello, Harry,” said Luna. “Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?” “Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff. . . .” He held out her books. “Oh yes,” said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case. “Thank you, Harry. Well, I’d better get going. . . .” And she hurried off, without giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any. “She’s a bit upset,” said Luna. “I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley. . . .”

(HBP, 310)

Even with Hermione, whom Luna tends to argue with most due to Hermione appearing closed-minded to Luna, when Luna hears crying her first instinct is to go help. And she actually seemed to have made Hermione feel better, she found the right things to say.

Her mention of Moaning Myrtle makes it sound like Luna knows the ghost well. My headcanon is that in Luna's first years, when she was lonely and had no friends, she sat and chatted with Myrtle, and they had a cute little lonely friendship.

“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., “That’s right, Harry. . . come on think of something happy. . . .” “Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked. “We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .”

(DS, 548)

Encouraging Harry to cast a Patronus when they need one.

“I’m going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander,” said Luna, approaching the old man. “And I you, my dear,” said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder. “You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.”

(DH, 437)

And even comforting Ollivanders.

Luna just brings comfort to everyone she meets. Knowing what to say to make them feel better.

About her supposed seer-like abilities

As I said, I don't think Luna is a seer or anything like that. I think she's intelligent, open-minded, incredibly empathetic, has some extreme distrust in the ministry, and has an overall life philosophy of looking at the full half of the cup.

When I searched for scenes that had "extra-magical" potential I found only two:

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. [...] The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.

(OotP, 185)

I think this is more Luna being awkward because she never had friends more than anything. I think she is just honestly shocked and confused that Harry and Co. want to sit with her; of like, their free will, and not just to say mean things.

As much as Luna holds her head high, she is hurt by her bullies and loneliness, she just chooses to not internalize any of it and never stop to be herself. Honestly I really appreciate this aspect of Luna, I adore her ability to stay afloat.

The second scene:

He led a party of warlocks into the marquee as Luna rushed up. “Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er—my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know—?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said.

(DH, 123)

I don't think this is being a "seer" or anything like that. I believe this is an extension of Luna's intense empathy. She says she recognises Harry's expression. Also, she's smart and he acts around Ron the way he always does, Luna would be able to recognize it...

So, yeah, these are my thoughts about Luna.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anon asks #anonymous #luna lovegood #harry potter meta #hp headcanon #hollowedheadcanon #hollowedtheory

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candycandy00 · 6 months

Text

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 6

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

Vartan nearly knocked you over as he stumbled inside, holding onto the wall as he made his way through your kitchen and to the living room, where he fell onto the couch.

You closed and locked the door behind him, then hurried over to the couch.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked up at you, and for first time you could see a hint of annoyance on his face. It was both frightening and comical. "They asked me to leave the base. So I came here."

"They threw you out?"

He laid back on the couch, making himself a bit more comfortable, though every move still seemed painful. "Yes, that is basically true."

You were holding your forehead. This was ridiculous. If the neighbors happened to see Vartan on his way in, the whole building would be in a state of panic.

He glanced to the side. "You do not have a television?"

You frowned. "No, I'm not that rich. And besides, I don't even like watching movies. Wait, why did you come to my apartment? For that matter how did you know where I live?"

"I followed you home. And you are the only human I know."

You couldn't help but feel a little bit special upon hearing that. How many girls in the city could say a half-breed knew them well enough to crash at their place? But you tossed the thought out of your mind. "You know Terrian too. He has a really big house."

"But you are the one I followed," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

You sighed. "Alright, you can stay as long as you need to, but please don't go walking around in the hallway or anything. The other people in the building might have heart attacks if they spot you."

Vartan nodded.

"And," you said carefully, "there's one more condition to staying here."

He looked you in the eyes again. "What is it?"

You felt a little scared. You just couldn't get beyond the fact that you were talking to a half-breed. You took a deep breath. "You can't punish anyone while you're staying with me. No matter what."

He raised his eyebrows, and you flinched, as if expecting him to jump up and decapitate you. "And what will you do if I punish anyone?"

You hesitated for a moment, then built up your courage and said "I'll throw you out!"

Vartan stared at you in response, and you could've sworn an extremely faint smile had tugged at his lips for an instant. "Very well," he said, "I will abide by your rules."

You blinked. A half-breed was agreeing to your rules? It was beyond bizarre. You shook your head and walked into the bedroom, where you pulled out an extra blanket and took one of the pillows from your own bed. You brought them to him, and he politely thanked you.

Once he was comfortable again, you waved to him and told him goodnight, going into your room to change into pajamas. You opened your door a crack and peeked into the living room, but it was too dark to make out anything more than a vague shape on the couch.

It was a very restless night, as you had trouble sleeping while knowing that a half-breed was lying in the next room. Your mind was going crazy, telling you that he was different, that he was kind to you and had gotten himself into trouble for your sake, but at the same time reminding you of how callously he had murdered Miranda's parents only a few days before. You couldn't decide whether he was a gentle boy or a barbaric monster.

In the end, you fell asleep just a few hours before sunrise, and so overslept terribly the next morning. What little sleep you got was plagued by nightmares, of your parents screaming, of following a tall, black-clad stranger in the snow. You don’t even remember what snow feels like, but in your dreams it was bitterly cold.

You climbed out of bed and staggered into the kitchen. Vartan was at the table peeling an orange. His jacket was gone and, to your embarrassment, so were his pants. He wore boxer shorts, plain black cotton. He looked up when you entered the room. "Is it alright that I took an orange?"

You nodded, still a little disoriented. You were wearing a tank top and a pair of knit shorts. It was nothing scandalous, but you felt a little self-conscious so you held your arms over yourself and stepped toward the door.

"There is no need to be embarrassed," he said, biting into the peeled orange, "I have seen you in less."

You remembered your first time meeting him, in the clinic while you were in your underwear, and cringed. You had almost forgotten it. You turned around to face him. "Right, about that, I have another rule. You can't... um... do anything... to me."

He looked highly confused. "Do anything?"

"You know, what you half-breeds do to humans all the time. Um, how did that girl put it yesterday... 'enjoy'?"

Vartan obviously understood now, and you were more than a little embarrassed.

He took another bite of the orange. "I will do nothing to harm you."

You sighed in relief. "Great, I'm glad we cleared that up." You sat down at the table and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit, biting into it without peeling it. "By the way, I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. You really saved us, Anna and I."

Vartan nodded without a word.

You watched him for a moment while chewing the apple. "I'm curious though, why did you do it?"

"I already explained. You saved me, I wanted to save you in return."

"But when you spared Miranda, I mean, the little girl a few nights ago, you said your debt had been repaid."

He was looking at the half-eaten orange in his hand. "I am... not on the best of terms with those three."

"Oh. I see. So going up against them wasn't exactly new?"

"Correct," he answered. "I have fought with them many times."

"Why?" you asked, the question slipping out of your mouth before you thought.

"I believe Celeste, the girl you met, harbors feelings for me that one half-breed should not have for another."

Your jaw dropped. "You mean she has a crush on you?!"

"Yes, I believe so. And the others, Aden and Marcel, harbor those feelings for her. As such, they despise me."

You laid the apple on the table, too intrigued to eat. "Wow, so they're jealous of you! But why would she attack you the way she did? Why would she allow them to?"

Vartan looked at you, surprised. "Why would she not?"

"Because she's in love with you, isn't she? You don't hurt people you love!"

"We do not understand the feelings of humans," he said. "If we somehow come to experience them, we do not know how to react to them."

You looked back down. "Oh," you said, then looked at him sharply. "But why don't the half-breeds get together? Why don't they ever date each other or get married or anything?”

Vartan looked positively shocked by your question, his expression even going beyond mere raised eyebrows to include wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "That is forbidden! We can never touch each other in that way!"

You were quite surprised yourself. "Why not?"

Vartan settled back into his usual expression. "I'm not sure. We've been told from the time we were children that we must never, ever mate with fellow half-breeds. Doing so would be punishable by death."

"Wow, that's a really harsh rule. But I guess that explains why you guys fool around with humans so much."

"Yes," he replied, eating his orange again and seeming strangely uncomfortable, "We were told to satisfy our physical desires with humans."

You placed your elbow on the table and leaned over, supporting your head with your arm. "But don't you guys ever want something more? More than just a physical thing? How do you get any pleasure from it when the human obviously doesn't want it?"

Vartan was focused intently on the orange, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "We were told that humans are hormonal creatures who always desire physical pleasure. We were told that the humans wouldn't mind, that they would be happy to satisfy us, because we are pleasing to their eyes."

You wee positively amazed to be hearing all of this. Finally things were starting to make a little more sense. "But couldn't you figure out that humans didn't want to be used?"

Vartan suddenly stood up from the table. "Do you mind if I use your shower?"

You blinked, caught off-guard. "Oh, sure. There are some towels in the closet in the hall."

He stood up and pushed his chair in, then cleared the table of the small mess he had made with the orange. It really struck you that he was unbelievably polite. You wondered if half-breeds were raised to be that way, or if this was simply a personality trait for him.

You heard him open and then close the closet door, then listened as he walked a little further down the hall and into the bathroom. Then the water came on. You resumed eating while you waited, and he eventually emerged from the hall again, but this time he was without the boxers. You nearly choked on the apple, but stood up and quickly backed away, covering your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Please put your clothes on!" you cried.

"Why? You have seen me nude before. Why are humans so bothered by such things?"

You slowly removed your hands from your eyes, but looked straight at his face. He looked genuinely curious. "Because things like this should be reserved for couples."

"Why?"

You thought for a moment, trying to come up with the best way to word it. "Well, it should be special, when two people who are in love see each other naked for the first time. Exposing yourself like that is like revealing your deepest secret."

Vartan's puzzled expression made you realize that you had indeed worded it wrong. "Wait, that didn't come out right. I mean, even with people who are not in love, you want to save that 'secret' for when you decide to become intimate."

"So, humans do not allow anyone to see them nude unless they are intimate?"

You rubbed your forehead again. "No, that's not exactly it. I mean, doctors see you naked, but that's for medical reasons. It's different. And when you're a kid and your parents see you naked, like when you're taking a bath. Or if you're spending the night with your best friend and you change clothes in the same bedroom, it's not a big deal. But, when it comes to someone you're attracted to, it makes you shy about it, so you only want to show yourself to them when you trust them to not be judgmental and..."

You trailed off, noticing that Vartan's look of confusion was gone and he was instead staring at you intently. "I see," he said, stepping into the living room. He returned a few seconds later, buttoning his pants. "I suppose I no longer have a secret to reveal."

"What?"

Again that faint smile seemed to flash across his face for the briefest of moments, but it disappeared just as quickly. "You're not going to the clinic today. Are you going anywhere else?"

"Terrian's house. He gave me a new job."

"What kind?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you really interested or are you making conversation?"

"I am interested."

"He wants Anna and I to be his new maids. I know he just wants to give us a reason to take money from him and come to his house, so we won't feel like we're robbing him, you know? But I hope he doesn't make us wear uniforms again."

"The white outfit you were wearing at the clinic, that was a uniform?" he asked.

"Yeah. Terrian picks them out. I think he has a costume fetish or something."

"Does he not make you feel uncomfortable?"

You laughed. "We know he's just joking around. Yeah, he likes to see us in cute clothes, but he would never do anything inappropriate. In fact he's ridiculously protective of us."

"Yes, I saw that," Vartan replied. "He was quick to attack me when he thought I was doing you harm."

You laughed again, and in the back of your mind you wondered when you had reached the point that you could laugh with a half-breed. Your eyes drifted to the clock on the kitchen wall. "Oh crap, I'm really running late now. I better get ready."

You hurried to the hall, grabbed some towels, and took a quick shower. You dressed in the bathroom, having no desire to go prancing into your bedroom with nothing but a towel on while Vartan was there. He promised he wouldn't do anything, but you decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tempt a half-breed, despite the circumstances.

You fixed your hair and even dabbled on a little makeup and perfume, things you normally never bothered with. When finished, you looked in the mirror and asked yourself why you were trying so hard to look good. Was it because you wanted Vartan to find you attractive? But you had gone to such lengths to avoid attracting that sort of attention from him.

But what was wrong with it if you liked him?

You took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. You grabbed your bag from the counter in the kitchen and stepped into a pair of shoes by the door. You glanced into the living room, where Vartan was sitting quietly on the couch.

"Um, I'm leaving now. If you decide to go out, lock the door behind you. There's an extra key on the table by my bed so you can get back in. Remember not to let anyone see you in the building, okay?"

He looked up at you and nodded, then waved as you left.

You arrived several minutes later at Terrian's house. You usually visited in the evenings, after they closed the clinic, so seeing it in the daylight, under the red-tinged sun, made the huge house look a little scary. Now you understood why he often asked you and Anna to come live with him.

You walked up on the porch and rang the door bell. A few minutes later, you heard footsteps and the door suddenly flung open. There stood Anna, positively fuming, in a frilly french maid costume that was obviously bought for Halloween many years ago. You wanted to laugh, but then it occurred to you that you would probably be wearing that horrendous getup too. You grimaced.

"He's gone too far this time!" Anna said loudly, stomping her foot as she talked as if to emphasize every word. "Look at this! I look ridiculous!"

"It's not that bad. I mean, it's kinda cute."

"It's awful!" Anna cried.

You opened your mouth to respond, but heard Terrian's voice ring out from within the house. "Is she here? Send her on up to get her uniform!"

You paled. "Well, at least you won't look awful by yourself." You stepped inside and began climbing up the stairs, dreading what you would see when you reached the top.

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