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flemingsfreckles · 25 days

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Replacement Part 8

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: general discussion of anxiety, internalized homophobia, mention of parental abuse (emotional and physical), language

WC: 3.2k

A/N: I’ll be honest, I’m struggling with my motivation to write this series at the moment so unfortunately I feel like updates will be a little far apart, but you never know 🤷‍♀️

Going back to training after the wedding was harder than you had imagined. You had to drag yourself out of bed that morning, everything in you wanting to call out knowing you’d have to see Jessie. It wasn’t just getting to training that had been hard, the hours seemed to go by slowly once you had arrived at the facility. You kept to yourself, you were quiet, you kept your head down and just tried to work and get through the hours. Training was easier said than done when your head was filled with a thousand thoughts of your own teammate kissing you.

Jessie had done her best to keep her distance. She knew you didn’t want to talk in the way you avoided her glance, choosing to stare at the floor, the way you ignored her many calls and texts for the first few days until she stopped trying. She still would send a message every couple of days, wishing you well, offering an apology, or asking to talk to you.

You knew she felt guilty, the way she’d give you a look of pity and regret when your eyes would accidentally meet or when the two of you were forced to be training partners. She didn’t push the subject, never asking or questioning what was happening between the two of you. She only spoke to you when necessary for training. It hurt, you ached to speak to her again and a small part of you ached to be physically close to her again, but you knew you couldn’t. So you kept your head down and carried on keeping your distance.

You knew your other teammates noticed. They noticed you were quiet, a couple of them asking you what was up. You brushed them off, telling them it was nothing, you just hadn’t slept well, you had a headache, you used all of the excuses most of them believed you.

Janine didn’t though. Which led to a heavy handed knock on your door on your day off from training.

“What are you doing here?” You said upon seeing Janine’s face through the opening of the door.

“You’ve been weird and I’m your friend, so I’m checking on you.”

“I’m good Janine.” Your hand finds the doorknob ready to shut it.

“I think you’re lying.” She puts her foot between the door and the door frame, her hand coming to push on the door. You watch as she takes in the sight of your apartment behind you. It was a mess, a physical manifestation of what the inside of your brain felt like. “I’m coming in.”

“Fine.” You say before turning and heading to slump on the couch. You knew this was inevitable, you knew she’d break you down and figure out what was wrong, she’d know everything in the next few hours. But that didn’t mean you’d just offer up the information easily.

Janine follows you to the couch and sits down. The way she looks at you makes you think she already knows way too much. “What happened at my wedding?”

“You got married.” You respond, stating the obvious, you couldn’t slip up, even if she already knew something was weird.

Janine rolls her eyes at you. “You know that’s not what I mean. There was something that happened with you.”

“It’s nothing.” You mumble. The tightness in your chest was already building slowly.

“Okay.” Janine clasps her hands across her lap, watching you. “I know something happened, you’ve been weird since.”

“Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what Jessie said.” Those words from her mouth make your stomach drop.

“She told you?!” You knew Jessie and Janine were close, but you didn’t expect her to tell Janine, it was her experience to share too, you just hadn’t thought about it.

“So something did happen. And no, she didn’t tell me what happened. She told me I should check on you, but she didn’t give me details. She refused.”

That’s when the panic started to creep back in. You had managed to push the memory of the kiss from your brain, suppressing it so far.

“Janine I can’t.” The tightness started to build in your chest, spreading to your throat.

“Can’t what?” She had such a concerned look across her face. You trusted Janine, she was safe, she wouldn’t scream or yell, or try to change you. She wouldn’t hit you.

“I can’t, I don’t, I, I don’t like her, I can’t want her, she’s a girl, I can’t be g-” your choke on your words before you can even get it out. You can feel your lungs burning, feeling tight, unable to catch your breath. You’re blinking hard and fast trying to keep the tears from spilling out.

“Look at me.” Janine’s hand reaches for the bottom of your face, her action floods your body with the same panic you did when your parents made a move toward your face. You flinch and try to scramble away from her. You watch as her own eyes widen, her hand immediately retracting. “I’m sorry.” She places her hand out to you, offering it, but not forcing you to make contact with her.

You let one hand reach slowly out to her. Her hand is warm, soft and you’re reminded again, this is Janine. She’s not your parents.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She starts taking deep breaths and you try your best to mimic her. She gently rubs her thumb across the knuckles of your hand.

You’re able to catch your breath finally, now feeling exhausted. “I can’t be gay.” You finally manage to murmur the words out before another wave of tears comes out. You watch Janine’s face flash with confusion. She doesn’t say anything immediately, letting you cry while she help your hand.

The two of you stay, sitting Janine silently comforting you as you cried. When you finally catch your breath, you glance up at her. You feel embarrassed, embarrassed that you were admitting this to her, embarrassed about your breakdown. You quickly glance back down to your lap. “Sorry.” You mumble up to her.

“Don’t be.” You hear her take a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?” Janine says.

“Yeah.”

“Why not?” She asked, but you knew deep down, she already knew the answer, or at least some of it. “So what if you’re gay, that’s okay.”

“Janine, I don't want to talk about this.” A twinge of annoyance starts to make itself known in your voice. You didn’t want to talk, you couldn’t, you’d managed to push it down for so long, but here it was threatening to bubble over. You continued to avoid her eyes.

“Is that what you were told as a kid? That it was wrong, you couldn’t be gay?” You give a weak attempt at a nod and Janine continues. “Your parents tell you that?” Another nod. “Is that why you don’t speak to them?” You don’t nod to her third question, instead you shrug. The issue with your parents was bigger than just them telling you you can’t like girls, it was so much more than that.

“I am so sorry.” She says and you’re finally able to muster the courage to look at Janine’s face. “I know it’s not just as easy as me saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting to love someone, even if that’s another girl.”

“I know, and I promise I’m not homophobic, anyone can do whatever, none of my business, it’s just I, I can’t be, that would prove them right.” You quickly realize your own panic may have given Janine the wrong idea about your views.

“Prove who right?” She asks gently, your hand still sitting in hers.

Already emotionally vulnerable, you break down at her question and you let it all out. All of the details.

You tell Janine about Grace first.

You start off by explaining she was your best friend and then about how your parents suspected the two of you were together. You tell her how your parents had thrown you out one night into the cold, with no place to go. You tell her how you had run to Grace, she was your safe place. You tell her you didn’t have feelings for Grace, or at least that you knew of. You then mention how you kissed Grace at her house. How it had felt right, but it wasn’t.

You then tell her what you endured after that kiss. You told her how your parents had brought you back home, how they lectured and screamed at you, day after day. How they drilled into your brain that being gay was wrong. You told her how confusing it all was for you. You were just a kid. You tell her how you didn’t know what those feelings you had meant then and you don’t know what those feelings mean when you had them in college and you still now don’t know what they mean.

You even tell her how your parents had hit you. It slips out, it wasn’t something you intended to share but you said it and it was too late to take it back. The moment the sentence leaves your mouth Janine’s face is filled with anger and followed by a look of hurt and compassion, the standard look of pity. Pity was something you saw often, when you mentioned you didn’t speak to your parents or siblings, pity was always the look everyone gave you.

You try to move quickly past mentioning the physical abuse you endured, instead you tell her how you were able to hide once you moved to Stanford, how you cut them off and haven’t seen or heard from them recently. When you finally stop talking the silence consumes the room, an uncomfortable tension sitting between the two of you.

“Can I hug you?” Janine asks, you only notice now that her eyes are glossy, filled with tears.

“Yeah.” You say as Janine opens her arms, letting you move into her. You’re practically laying in her lap hugging her. Her arms feel safe, they wrap tightly around you, holding you close.

“I am so sorry, you didn’t deserve any of that, no one does.” She says. “I had no idea.”

“No one does, it’s not something I usually share.” You mumble into her shirt.

The two of you stay like that, on the couch, her holding you tightly, you hugging her back, trying to relax yourself as much as you can. It feels like an hour passes by the time you decide to push yourself off of her.

“Do you want to talk anymore?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. It was nice talking to her, finally letting it all out, but at the same time it was emotionally exhausting reliving those memories just to tell her.

She nods and smiles at you. “Okay, can I ask you some things and if you don’t want to answer you don’t have to?”

“Yeah, sure.” It wasn’t like you had much left to hide at this point, you had fully exposed yourself to Janine, a couple more questions couldn’t hurt.

“Do you think you have feelings for a girl? Is that why you’re suddenly feeling like this?”

You shrug at her. “Maybe, I don’t know, it’s confusing, there’s different feelings, but I don’t know what they are, I think I’m just confused.”

“Okay, that’s fine, you don’t have to know what the feelings are or what they mean.” Her reassurance made you feel at ease, she wasn’t here to pry, to tell you to figure it out, she was hear to listen. She pauses for a moment before looking at you. “Is that girl Jessie?”

The mention of her name has your stomach turning with a mix of nerves and butterflies. You let your eyes meet hers for a moment, silently telling her she was right. Janine slowly nods at you, a small smile starts to creep across her lips which she quickly bites away.

“Okay.” Janine says. “That’s it, I’m done pestering you. I’m not going to ask what happened at the wedding, that’s obviously between the two of you, but if you do want to talk about her, you can, I won’t mention it to her.”

“Thank you.”

“For pestering you?” Janine says with a smile.

“No, for coming over, for checking on me.” You hadn’t been a fan when she showed up, but the relief you felt currently was unbelievable. It was like a weight that had been on your shoulders for years was a little bit lighter, someone knew your past, all of it. Even if it was one single person, it made a difference.

“You’re my little rookie, I’m always looking out for you.” She says a hand patting your thigh.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You quickly request, realizing now that while you’d only told one person, that meant your biggest secret was no longer a secret.

“I wouldn’t, nothing we talked about will leave this room. Do you want me to at least let Jessie know I checked with you and you’re alright?”

“I think it would be better coming from me, I need to talk to her.” You didn’t want to talk to her, but it had been long enough, you were being selfish avoiding her, especially after she had cared enough to send Janine to check on you.

“Okay.” Janine nods. “Do you want me to go now? I know that was probably a lot. I’m sure you’re tired, you deserve a little rest.” She says starting to stand up from the couch.

“Can you stay? If not that’s okay, just I think having someone around would be nice.” You ask, the idea of being left alone in your silent apartment with your thoughts was a little too overwhelming at the moment.

“I can stay as long as you need.”

Janine stays for a few hours, the two of you play cards, she helps you tidy you apartment much to your refusal. You had made the mess in your state of chaos, she shouldn’t have to clean it, but she did anyway. You helped, tidying each room until it resembled a clean, livable space.

You then insisted Janine head home, feeling better about yourself and your mental well being, you could handle the rest of the night. As you walked Janine toward the door you thanked her again for coming to check on you.

“It’s really no big deal, we’re friends, I’m always going to take care of my friends.” She says slipping on her shoes. “If you ever need to talk again, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” As Janine goes to grab the door you speak up. “I’m going to talk to her, to Jessie.”

Janine nods at you. “Can I give you advice?” You nod letting her continue. “Just be honest with her, as honest as you can be or feel comfortable being. I know that I don’t know what happened, but she’s pretty understanding, if she did something to upset you I’m sure she didn’t mean it, just how I’m sure you didn’t mean to upset her if that’s the case.”

“Thanks.” You say, a tight lipped smile on your face. You had been able to avoid the fact that you had to talk to Jessie after this. You held open the door for Janine.

“I love ya kid, if you need me I’m just a call away.”

When you close the door you're left with a deafening silence. You look to the counter top where your phone sat. You had to talk to her. Wandering over you pick up your phone, staring at the screen as you try to force yourself to unlock it.

You finally swipe your thumb across the screen and make your way into your texts. Scrolling to find Jessie’s name and clicking on it, finally opening almost weeks worth of ignored texts. You had read most of them through the notification but you skimmed them again.

Most of them were her asking to talk to you, a couple of apologies, a couple offers to take you to coffee. The most recent text just asked if you were okay. You felt guilty reading back the texts, Jessie had been nothing but caring and concerned about you after what had happened, after you had run away from her. You hadn’t bothered to check on her once.

You took a deep breath as your thumb hovered over the call button, you could make it easy and just text her, but this didn’t seem like a text conversation. You feel your thumb make contact with the screen and before you know it the phone is ringing. It rings, and rings, and rings. Just before you’re convinced it will go to voicemail, the ringing stops.

“Hello?” Jessie’s voice comes through the line.

“Uh.” You panic for a moment at the sound of her voice. “Hi. Can we talk?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for a week now.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to talk, but I think I am now.”

“Okay, then talk.” You can hear the obvious frustration and annoyance in Jessie’s voice, her words coming out sharper than usual.

“Um.” You can’t even begin to find out where to start. You let a silence fall on the line, trying to sort your thoughts, you can hear Jessie moving around for a moment before there’s silence again. You sit, drowning in the silence, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts and also feeling completely empty. “Do you want to come over?”

“Tonight, it’s kinda late is it not?”

“I was thinking tomorrow? Whatever works, I just, I think this would be better in person. I owe you that.” You also didn’t mind the fact that tomorrow would buy you a couple of hours to prepare for what you were going to say to her.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Okay. Ten tomorrow morning sound okay?”

“Sure.” It was uncharacteristic the way Jessie was being short with you.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” You tried to sound as if you were excited to see her, and part of you was. You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t also terrified at the idea of seeing Jessie again and talking to her.

“Okay.”

“Bye Jessie.” She doesn’t say goodbye, or even bye at all, you instead are met with the beeping of the call ending. You put your phone down before bringing your hands to your face, rubbing them hard down from your forehead to your neck as you let out a huge breath.

You now had to think of exactly what you wanted to say to her, and exactly what you didn’t want to say to her in less than 12 hours.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire 🔥💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier.

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day 🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious 🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow 🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife 🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again 🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat 🔥

Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down 🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day 🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Hold You Tight 🔥🛑💞

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell 🔥🛑

Summary: You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last 🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary: Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession 🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me 🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession 🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay 🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around 🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel 🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas 🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You 🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky)

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty 🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage 🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward 🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call 🔥🛑 His Sparrow 🔥🛑 Stalked

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months

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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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edgeray · 3 months

Note

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :) Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru.

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door.

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt.

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again.

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.”

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.”

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out.

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words.

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was.

Right?

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell.

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible.

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face.

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips.

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you.

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle.

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence.

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.”

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice.

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully.

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you.

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it.

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face.

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?”

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent.

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them.

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?”

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…”

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance.

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress.

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away.

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets.

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.”

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?”

“Perhaps.”

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate.

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them.

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead.

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?”

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?”

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire.

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?”

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair.

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children.

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties.

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.”

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way?

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…”

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.”

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.”

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin.

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful.

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you.

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fics #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #edgeray.requests #edgeray.writes #edgeray.🍅anon

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hi Jade!! 💛💛 Omg obsessed with soulmate prince Steve au 🥰. Every au you write is perfection Can I request a scenario in which prince Steve actually witnesses someone say something to her about how she’s not good enough for the prince and how he’d react to that/ reassure her?

prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.2k

Your palatial bedroom is a gem to the eye. You've a huge window from which gauzy orange light seeps, the golden hour of your twentieth day coming to an end. Soon, night will be upon you, and with the night comes Prince Steven. Or, as he prefers, Steve.

He spends the days battling his overbearing mother and her team of 'professional shitheads' as the wedding fast approaches, advocating for you where you can't. You may be his soul mate, but your lack of royal blood means you've no choice in any of their plans. You hadn't been allowed to choose your dress, your vows, or even your jewellery.

Well, originally. "It's your wedding," Steve had said, giving your hand a reassuring hold, "not just mine, and definitely not theirs. You'll be allowed to wear, and say, and do whatever you want. I'm lucky you agreed to marry me at all."

You don't regret agreeing to marry him, but it wasn't what you pictured. He didn't propose, and you aren't in love. Your soul marks assure you that one day you will be. The volume of their light and how restless they become around the other evidences a mutual attraction if nothing else, and the rosy hue they take when you touch spares nothing.

A mutual crush doesn't normally mean you'd marry someone, though. But it isn't exactly unheard of in your culture either. Soul mates are soul mates —it's on the tin.

Why wait to get married when you know you'll fall in love for life?

Maybe because that love is extremely daunting, a little voice says at the back of your head. Because Steve is still a stranger.

An acquaintance might be more accurate. If he continues to be so dramatically nice you might skip friendship altogether, your stomach a heat at the memory of his hand on your chin and the subtle warmth of his gaze as he laid your doubts to rest. You worried to him that you couldn't be a Princess, and while he hadn't shared the sentiment, others do.

You leave the haven of your room in hopes of a glass of juice and a tonic for your headache (all you've done for days is grind your teeth), and become turned around looking for the kitchens

"She is so boringly normal. I thought the Prince would have a special soul mate, is that stupid? I thought she'd be gorgeous, or smart, or talented at something, like piano." The servant hits her racket against the rug with a laugh. "She's just one of us. Lucky bitch."

Which isn't the worst of it. Not truly offensive. You're nothing special, and if you didn't know it already, finding your soulmate cemented it.

This bit hurts, though. "She's surprisingly ugly, I thought," says the other servant. "Imagine when they project their engagement photos in the central city. That is not a face you want to see in sixteen k."

Your head bumps into the alcove wall with surprise as a throat clears. The servants look up in tandem, to your horror, seeing you standing in the shade like a creeper, but they see straight past you. You follow their gaze.

"That's not fair or appropriate, is it?" Steve asks, in his strange princely tone. "The future princess is just as beautiful as you ladies, but she has a much nicer attitude, yeah?"

Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and walks you away. You feel like you're in trouble, being marched by the class warden to the principal's office.

He stops you in the cool stone walkway that leads from the garden. You can smell the kitchen you'd been looking for, the buttery smell of capers and brewing edelweiss tea on the breeze. The night dawns, sconces with teal and lime light painting his skin baby blue.

"Sorry I didn't sanction them. I think that the anxiety that I'm gonna tell on them does more than the actual–" Steve stops short. "Hey, are you crying?"

You're not crying, but you may be a little sniffly. You turn your head away from him and he pulls it right back, his lips parted in shock.

"You don't believe them," he says incredulously.

The stress in your life these last few weeks has been akin to a tightrope walker, and the insults (the embarrassment, knowing he heard) are a strong wobble.

"Sorry," you say, your lips barely parted. You try to look away from him but his hand is steadfast on your cheek.

It's so odd to be treated with tenderness by someone you don't really know. His soul mark burns a muted pinky-red at the pulse of his wrist. It's genuine affection, even if you feel like you don't deserve it.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I should go back and have them do domestic duties for the week."

"No, I'm being stupid. They don't have to think I'm pretty–"

"Well, they should, but that's not really what happened… Why are you down here? I was looking for you."

"You were?" you ask.

"I usually am. I tried to get out of fencing but they wouldn't let me leave," he explains, his hand moving up your face in little grabs, almost as though he's checking you over for injury. Eyes held, Steve smiles at you encouragingly. "Why were you down here?"

"To get something to drink," you say.

"And you didn't want to ask one of the ten people waiting desperately for you to need something?" he asks with a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. The phantom of it remains, heat in the shape of his fingers pressed into your cheek.

"It feels weird."

"You can call for me instead and I could get you a drink. Just until you know where the kitchen is. Or I can make you a map."

"A map," you say, biting back a smile.

"Is that funny?"

"No…"

Steve curls a hand behind your shoulder. "We're not gonna get along," he says, his tone suggesting wildly otherwise. "I can tell. Let's get you that drink, okay?"

"Okay. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional on you."

"'In good times and bad,'" he says. Your heart doesn't leap, it springs from your chest. He's a prince, and he's beautiful, and now he's throwing wedding vows at you like it's nothing?

You smile at your shoes all the way to the kitchens, where Steve ushers you in front of him to go first, and says in your ear, "For the record, I'm personally super excited to see you on the holo screens, but I don't think it's gonna compare to the real thing." He directs you by the waist gently, a twin of the way he'd held you in your engagement photos. Deft hand nestled against the fat of your hip, blue silk of your ceremonial kissing your thighs. You'd felt really pretty, if only because he touched you without hesitation. "You are the farthest thing from ugly I've ever seen."

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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thequeenofneverland1 · 6 months

Text

Draco Malfoy///Meant to be

Request by @characterxreaderimagine: imagine being a potter and Draco having a huge crush on you but denies it.. and eventually gets jealous when he here's Fred Weasley is going to ask you out which lead him to confess his feelings for you but.. plot twist is that your brother finds out and wanted to break the two of you up but eventually failed to do so and just warned Draco never to hurt his sister.. a few years later he got an invitation to a wedding 💀

Since a baby, Harry could always remember James telling him to look after you and to protect you at any cost.

Ever since the death of them, Harry promised to himself that you would be his first priority. and that he was going to protect you at any cost.

At first it annoyed you because his overprotectiveness also included scaring all of the guys away.

but little does Harry know that a certain guy that goes by his name Draco has a crush on his sister even though he denies it every time he gets asked.

“So what you're trying to tell us is that you don't fantasize about Y/n, not even a little bit?” Pansy raised an eyebrow clearly not believing him.

Draco laughs as he shakes his head. "Of course not, who does?"

“Everyone, I mean who doesn't? She's really gorgeous, right Pansy?” Blaise replied, smirking as she nodded with a smirk too.

Draco stops laughing and he glares at his friends. “Everyone does? Does it include you guys too?”

Gregory chuckles, "You shouldn't care since you said that you don't fantasize about her.”

Draco rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. "So what?, it’s not like Saint Potter is going to let one of you date his sister.”

Pansy shrugs her shoulders. "I don’t know but I heard Fred is going to ask her out and probably Harry might let him since they are friends.”

“What carrot head is going to ask her out?” Draco growls “Over my dead body that I’m going to let that happen, Y/n is my future wife and the mother of my kids.”

"But you said that you didn-."

“Blaise shut up, I know what I said.” Draco interrupts and he looks over at Gregory and Pansy “don’t think about saying it.”

Pansy pulls her hands up, " I wasn't planning to.”

"but you did say it.” Gregory whispers hoping that Draco didn’t hear since Pansy and Blaise started laughing.

"What are you two laughing about?" Draco asked madly, causing Blaise and Pansy to stop laughing and to come up with something to answer him with.

“A Joke that someone told us I would tell you but I forgot about it after the scare you gave us.” Pansy replies

Draco chuckles, "a bunch of scary cats that I have as friends getting scared over anything.”

"says the one that's scared to ask Y/n out just because he's scared of her brother.” Gregory mumbles quietly but this time Draco heard him

He pushes Gregory causing him to fall down on the ground “I’m not scared of him or anything and you know it really well Gregory.”

“Then prove it by asking her out if you don’t then you are:”

“Of course!!! I am going to do it because I love her and don’t want her to be with carrot head, not because you're asking me to do it.”

“It’s going to be amazing to watch. Hopefully Draco doesn't have his ass beaten.” Blaise said as they watch him leave

“Freddie, are you sure that you want to ask Y/n out? Are you not afraid of Harry? And what he's gonna do?” Ron asked

He smiles, “He won't dare to hurt me because you're his best friend, and I know that you would not permit him to do so if that were to occur.”

“That’s the thing, I'm his best friend but Y/n is his sister. What kind brother do you think Harry is?” Ron looked at his brother hoping that he remembers how overprotective Harry is.

“Yeah that you’re right I just like Y/n really much and didn’t think about that.”

Ron chuckles, “I comprehend you have her in your mind and heart that you almost forgot that you were choosing death over living.”

Ron and Fred started laughing with one another, but they stopped when they saw you and Draco leave together.

Ron looked at his brother, who was frowning, and asked, “Are you all right?” Fred, on the other hand, took no notice of Ron, choosing instead to follow behind Draco and you.

Draco and you went to the courtyard since he told you that he wanted to talk to you in private

“So what is it!?” You asked

Fidgeting with his hands and avoiding your gaze, he seemed to be nervous. Finally, he uttered, “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

His sudden boldness made you feel taken aback and you couldn't help but smile. "Of course!!!”

A smile spread across Draco's face, but it soon faded when he saw Fred walking towards him and you. “It's carrot head.”

You looked around to see what had caught his attention and saw Fred advancing with a mischievous smirk on his face. You couldn't resist laughing at the sight. Fred was well-known for his pranks and jokes, and it was obvious that he had a plan.

"Hey, guys.” Fred winked at you. “What are you guys talking about?”

Draco intervened before you could respond. “I asked Y/n to be my girlfriend and she agreed.” Draco's demeanor became slightly defensive, causing you to look at him with shock.

Fred raised an eyebrow in anger, but quickly recovered. "Harry will know about this.”

You gazed at Draco with a puzzled look. “What motivated you to tell him that? Mostly it was a lie.”

Draco's expression was serious as he grasped your hands to kiss them. "I have a fondness for you and I don't wish to lose you to carrot head."

“But I don’t like him.” You told him.

“But he likes you.” He tells you back “so do you like somebody?”

"I have feelings for you too, Draco.” He was filled with excitement after hearing your confession.

You spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing, with him and by the time you said goodbye. Harry waited for you in the common with his arms crossed and an angry expression.

“Is what Fred told me about Draco and you dating accurate?”Harry asked with anger

“So what if it is?” You replied

“I forbid you from seeing him and I want you to break up with him.” Harry said before leaving

Dating Draco Malfoy, of all people, was not a good idea for him. He prohibited you from seeing Draco again, but you couldn't stand to think about hurting him. Draco and you are still keeping your relationship secret.

Unfortunately, Harry did find out and confronted you both. He tried a lot of different ways to end things, but he finally gave up when he saw how happy you were with Draco. He warned him not to hurt you because it would make him regret it.

Harry got an invitation to a wedding shortly afterwards. Upon opening it, he came to the realization that it was from his now-brother-in-law, who was inviting him to the wedding. Harry was grateful that they had found a way to come together as a family even after a bumpy start and couldn't help but smile. As he stood at the dancing floor and watched you have your wedding dance with Draco.

#Harry potter #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter x Y/n #draco malfoy #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy imagines #Draco Malfoy x Potter!reader

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gojoidyll · 9 months

Text

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 10 | what is yours, is mine

Warnings | blood, gore, death, yandere satoru, yandere sukuna, etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

GOJO SAYAMI had a problem.

A problem that decided to pop up when he least expected it to.

And that problem was a grotesque monster named Ryomen Sukuna.

The first time he met Sukuna, he had married y/n, and apparently the damned man turned into a curse not long after her death. Then, as Sayu, he hadn't the chance to meet Sukuna as he had killed y/n rather quickly in that life and then was executed shortly after.

And now, as Sayami, he was wondering what he should do.

Despite being the next head in the clan, he wasn't gifted with the six eyes, in this life. Such a gift was so rare that not all of his lives were able to receive them. In other words, he wouldn't be able to fight the curse known as Ryomen Sukuna.

At least, not in this life.

Don't get Sayami wrong though, he wasn't going to kill himself or y/n to start over in hopes of getting the six eyes in the next life.

Now, even though he wasn't particularly gifted in this life, there were two things he did have. His intellect and y/n. It wasn't easy oursmarting and making the people as his stepping stones, and it definitely wasn't easy getting y/n either.

But, either way, he was finally in a good spot in his life, and he wasn't about to let the newly renowned King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, ruin it.

Not now. Not ever.

"So what should I do ..."

[...]

"You're quite the fool."

"Am I now? Even after I came to meet you?"

"You took y/n away from me!"

"You're still mad about that? That was two reincarnations ago, you need to learn to let things go," Gojo taunted as he stood before Sukuna's throne.

In all of Sayami's thinking, he didn't once imagine a scenario where he would actually come and greet the King of Curses himself. He was in uncharted territory. If Sukuna wanted, he could kill Gojo right here, right now.

But Sukuna wasn't like that. (Ok, he was, but Sayami was sure he would be interested in what Sayami had to offer.)

"Mad? I'm fucking livid, you took the one person I ever cared about away from me. All because you're a selfish prick who couldn't go one life without her."

Sayami saw his opportunity and took it.

"Which brings me to this ... let's make a deal, Sukuna."

The curse paused, his towering figure standing from his throne and descending the marble steps, scattered bones being crushed underfoot as he walked.

"A deal?"

Gojo looked up as Sukuna looked down at him, his eyes calculating.

"Yes, a deal. It's as you said. I'm a selfish man who can't go a single life without y/n. You see, I don't understand why she and I keep reincarnating - who knows, I probably cursed the both of us at some point. In each life I knew her, she was never mine, so the deal I want to offer you is simple... let me have her in this life and then she's all yours in the next."

"All mine."

"Of course, though, you are a curse now, so I don't know how easy it'll be for you to woo her in that regard, but I guess that'll be for you to figure out."

[...]

"I do."

To say how overjoyed Gojo Sayami was as he said those two little words would be an understatement.

Sukuna accepted the deal.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

"And do you, Y/n L/n, take Sayami Gojo as your lawfully wedded husband."

Her eyes seemed to shine as she looked at him. Her hands grasped his own, her head tilted up.

"I-"

And in a moment that happiness seemed to shatter.

It all happened too fast for Sayami. His head seemed to be spinning as he fell to his knees. His hands immediately shaking as he looked down to look at the severed arms that he was holding.

"I decided to back out on our little deal, Gojo Sayami. I think I would much rather prefer killing you and taking y/n for myself in each life that you both live."

He looked to his right. The room was a bloody mess as curses went on a rampage on his and y/n's family. Their screams were loud and clear. Blood-curdling.

"So why did you kill her?"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her dead body, cut to ribbons.

"Why? Because you tainted her. I didn't want a woman that was in love with you. Much like how you didn't want a woman who was in love with me."

Sukuna came to stand before him. His four eyes always looking down at him, "I look forward to meeting you in the next life. Let's see who gets to y/n first, yeah?"

Sukuna didn't let him reply as he severed Gojo's head in one broad stroke of his sword. The metal slicing through easily.

It was time to start again.

Infinity Taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x you

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

kiss it better – ls18

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where a crazy idea turns out to be the best possible thing for you and Lance.

Pairing: lance stroll x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, kissing and other than that none? might have a few curse words but otherwise very tame

Request: “okay so i’m obsessed with the lance stroll fake dating to lovers/friends to lovers but it’s always the reader asking. would you write lance asking reader to attend gala/wedding or something as his date and then the feels start to come up from both sides? smut, fluff, angst, wherever your imagination takes you x”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i did not expect to get this excited for a certain canadian man, but here we are!! now that i had the pleasure of writing about lance, i hope you guys know that more is to come, and thank you anon for the request!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

You love slow afternoons, is what you realise as your fingers move out of their own volition on your keyboard as you try your best to finish your draft on time so that you can send it to your agent. Lance is on the couch next to you, his focus on his phone, rather than the show he has on your TV – which he ignores as he continuously texts with the person on the other end and lets out lengthy sighs every few seconds.

After what it must be the hundredth sigh of the evening, you give him a pointed look over the glasses resting on your face, “Okay, this is getting ridiculous.”

“What?” Lance asks, his shoulders rising in a half-hearted shrug. He glances up from his phone, his brows furrowing slightly as he registers your statement.

“You've been sighing and moping around for the past hour,” you say, your tone a mix of annoyance and concern. “What's going on? Is something wrong with the ‘Real Housewives of Beverly Hills’?”

Lance sighs again, louder this time, as if to emphasize his frustration. He puts his phone down on the coffee table and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it further. "It's nothing," he mutters, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance, “and the housewives are fine, not Kim, though. I think Lisa Rinna is about to break the wine glass, again.”

“You’ve watched the Amsterdam trip how many times, now?” You ask him as you get up from your place at the dinner table and grab your wine glass before making your way over to him on the couch and settle next to him. “Forget it, just tell me what’s wrong so that we can get your breathing back to normal.”

“Chloe is what’s wrong,” Lance mutters, turning his phone screen towards you to give you a better look at the messages between him and his sister, “she is bugging me to bring someone to the wedding.”

You tilt your head to the side, “I thought you were going to take Sandra.”

“It was Sarah.” He returns your look with a pointed one of his own, “We kind of broke up, but now she want me to find another date.”

“So? Just find someone, Lance.” You give him a funny look as you fix the way your glasses are situated on your face and read the texts between the two siblings as you slightly lean over your best friend sitting next to you.

He sneakily places his arm around your shoulder in almost a reflex kind of way, as he argues, “I can’t just bring someone to my sister’s wedding, Y/N, she’s going to have the pictures up on her wall for the rest of her life or something.” He swats your hand away with a weak slap as you try to coo over his response, claiming that he is too sweet for this world when he asks, “Who are you bringing to the wedding, anyway?”

“No one,” you shrug, earning yourself a look from the man sitting next to you, “I’m not a Stroll, Lance, I don’t need to bring a date – ergo, I won’t.”

His eyes narrow on the edge as his voice comes off doubtful, “So I have to find someone to bring to the wedding but you can choose not to?” The nod you give him makes him let out a loud groan, making you giggle as he adds, “Is it too late to ask your parents to adopt me?”

“How more dramatic can you be?” You laugh into the edge of your wine glass as you take a small sip, and then think for a moment as you roll your lips together. “Just ask someone you know to come with you, they’ll get a nice weekend out of it and you won’t disappoint Chloe.”

“You say as if it’s easy,” Lance sighs, but his eyes take on a mischievous glint as you realise he’s had one of his bright ideas and the next words prove that it’s, in fact, one of them. “Be my date.”

Your voice is squeaky as you get out, “Excuse me?”

“I need a date,” he point to himself, and then points the same finger to you, “you don’t have a date. I don’t want to take some random girl off my contacts list to my sister’s wedding, so it makes sense.”

“I- I can’t be your date, Lance!” You exclaim, jumping back slightly to shoot him a full on glare. “You’re my friend,” you emphasise the word, “my best friend.”

“Why not? It’s better than going with a random date.” He argues, “Plus, we’ll tell everyone that we’re trying to work things out and after the wedding we’ll tell them it didn’t work out – problem solved.”

“Problem not solved,” you contend. “I don’t want to lie to everyone, Lance, especially not to our families.”

“You’re not saying no.” He sings, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You give him a light shove as you mumble, “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Y/N.” He sighs as he takes your free hand into his, which makes you involuntarily drag your index finger towards his palm, something you used to do to help him calm down when he was dealing with his wrists at the start of the season. It makes him smile softly at you when he realises it’s a thing that calms you down as much as it calms him down. “It’s not lying, it’s us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice is lower than before, but you can’t put your finger as to whether it’s because you’re confused or something about the nature of this whole arrangement is scary to you – you pray that it’s the first, but something in your gut tells you it’s the latter.

The smile he gives you in return to your question can only be described as ‘warm’ – it’s soft, and it makes his eyes crinkle, and it’s just so him. “It means that people won’t question how we ended up together, especially our families.”

What he’s saying and suggesting makes sense, you realise. He needs a date and you can help your friend out – plus, it would be good not to hear your mother complain about how you’re single in your twenties for a change. You try to think whether you’d even think about actually accepting to fake date someone if the person asking wasn’t your best friend in the whole world. But with Lance giving you an expectant look and looking so cosy on your couch, coupled with the two glasses of wine you’ve had as an incentive to write, you find yourself giving the man sitting beside you a nod of your approval.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but if this blows up all in our face, I’m blaming you and telling everyone you forced me.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs, pulling you into a side hug as the fighting noises from your TV blends into the background, “it’s going to be great, you just wait and see.”

Weddings are epitome of romance in every conceivable way. And Chloe Stroll’s wedding? It is safe to say that her wedding is the level of magical that fairy tales aspire to achieve. Ever since you’ve stepped foot in Italy, you’re captivated by the views and the atmosphere of having all the people there for such a special occasion. The wedding venue is a stunning villa nestled in the rolling hills of Tuscany, with lush gardens and a breathtaking view of the countryside. Soft music floats through the air as guests mingle and soak in the romantic ambiance. Turns out Lance was right, after all, and both of your parents are ecstatic that you showed up together – and no one bats an eye when he wraps his arm around you to help you onto the boat, or how his hand linger a bit longer on your hip.

Another thing people don’t seem to focus? How his eyes seem to focus on your every move as you dance with one of Scotty’s cousins, or is he one of his friends? Frankly, Lance doesn’t care about the specifics. He is more focused on the way the man you’re dancing with makes you throw your head back in laughter and the genuine smile that lights up your face. Lance watches from a distance, his heart swelling with a mixture of happiness because of how happy you look, and a touch of jealousy because it is not with him. But seeing you so carefree and radiant in someone else's arms stirs up emotions he can't quite ignore. But all of that is thrown right out the metaphorical window once you excuse yourself from your new friend, and find yourself back to him – basically throwing yourself into his arms and asking him to dance with you.

“I don’t know sweetheart, weren’t you just dancing with your new friend?” He asks, and though he immediately regrets the snarky words leaving his mouth, which reflect all his jealousy at the moment, you just smile up at him with the softest smile he’s ever seen.

Instead of lingering on his words, you let out a small giggle, “I can’t slow dance with him, Lance, he is not my date!”

“Oh,” he murmurs, “right.”

“So, will you dance with me?” You ask him again, your voice filled with more excitement than before. Your lips form a small pout as you add, “Please?”

His eyes linger on your expression for a moment, and he links his fingers through yours as he leads you onto the dance floor to join the couples who already started dancing. “Let’s go,” as soon as the words leave his mouth, a small smile is quick to overtake his face as you let out a small squeal and a giggle.

As the two of you find your place on the dance floor, Lance pulls you closer, his hand resting gently on your waist. The soft melody of a romantic song fills the air, setting the perfect mood for a slow dance. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and suddenly you realise it’s much easier to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat rather than the song which is playing on the background.

Lost in the moment, Lance whispers softly into your ear, "You look absolutely stunning tonight, you know that?" You can tell his words are filled with sincerity, and he makes you feel all the admiration he feels for you at that moment.

You give him a playful smile as you do the one thing Lance absolutely hates and answer his question with a question of your own, “Yeah? You like my dress?”

“You know I do,” he shakes his head, lips unable to stop themselves from forming a smile.

Sighing out a satisfied sound, you let fingers occupy themselves with the short strand of hairs on this nape. “Well good, Chloe said you’d appreciate the colour

– through jealousy is not a good colour on you.”

Lance chuckles, the sound rumbling against your cheek as you continue to sway together. "Chloe knows me too well," he replies, his voice filled with warmth, "I’ll just have to thank her for the dress."

“You better,” you scoff, your breath hitting his neck in the process, “it was an absolute pain to put it on.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” his fingers smooth over a crease near your hip, “I’ll help you get it off.”

You pause for a moment, the playful banter fading into a charged silence as his words hang in the air. The intensity of his gaze meets yours, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. Your heart skips a beat, and you find yourself lost in the colour of his eyes. There's an undeniable chemistry between you, one that the two of you have been ignoring for a while, and one that has been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

With a playful smile that eventually finds its way on your lips, you raise your head slightly to get a better look at him, “You’re drunk, Lance,” you announce.

Lance's grip on you tightens ever so slightly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back. “What is it they say? Drunk words, sober thoughts.” Another squeal leaves your lips as he slowly dips you down, but you know he won’t let you fall.

As he pulls you up again and presses his forehead against yours, and as his nose nudge against yours which causes both of you to release breathy laughs, your voice is almost pleading, “Lance, I–”

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice is soft as he mumbles, and he repeats himself after dragging out a deep breath, “I know “I know but you deserve something better.”

But the question of what something better might be lingers in your mind.

It’s almost the morning when the wedding celebrations come to a pause, and you quickly find yourself on your way back to the hotel with Lance. Hand in hand, you walk along the dimly lit streets, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the night. The city is calm and peaceful, its beauty enhanced by the memories you've created during the wedding festivities. Lance steals occasional glances at you, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory – you try to act as if you don’t notice, but the same gentle smile finds itself onto your lips every time you catch his eyes on you. As a true gentleman, he lets you lean against him in the elevator, knowing that you’re probably more tired than him because of your choice of shoes.

The soft hum of the elevator and the comforting embrace of Lance lull you into a sense of tranquillity. But all of that calmness is gone once the elevator stops at your floor and Lance pulls you closer as he walks you to your room. With each step, you become more aware of Lance's presence beside you. His warmth radiates, providing a comforting reassurance amidst the late-night stillness. The soft light from the hallway casts a warm glow on his face, highlighting the gentle curves and lines that make him uniquely him. You think the anticipation might actually kill you in the moment, but like a true gentleman, Lance takes out your room key and hands it to you – but even in that simple moment, you feel your entire body lighting up with something more for your best friend.

Your breath hitches once again that evening when Lance’s hands gently cup your face, but he lets you go once he presses his lips lightly on your forehead and gently rests your forehead against yours. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You feel your heart drop as he pulls away from you, all the adrenaline you’ve been feeling slowly dissipates. A mix of emotions washes over you as Lance pulls away and leaves you standing there, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. The brief moment of intimacy between you leaves you longing for more, and you find yourself mumbling, “I thought I deserve ‘something better’.”

“Y/N,” Lance’s voice is soft, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I- I just thought you might’ve been talking about yourself, you know?” You let out a nervous chuckle as you shake your head, “It doesn’t matter, it’s presumptuous – oh my god I am an egomaniac.” Taking a small step towards him, you give him the world’s most awkward hug, and slowly start to pull away.

Without you knowing behind his horrified look, Lance has the opportunity to put his quick decision-making skills to test. He knows that he can either let you go, which means the two of you will stay friends, or he can actually do what he wanted to do for a very long time – which has the potential to blow up in his face. So, this time he takes a step towards you, and manages to grab your wrist in time to pull you against himself. Pressing his lips onto yours in a haste kiss, he manages to take your breath away for the second time that night, and you realise what’s actually happening after a small brain malfunction. For a moment, you're both suspended in that kiss, your hearts pounding in sync. It's a moment of pure vulnerability and undeniable passion, a culmination of unspoken desires and the unravelling of emotions that have been building between you for far too long. But you can feel him smiling into the kiss as your lips start to move against his. He tries to pull away, but you chase his lips in what you can only describe as hunger, and both of you let out breathy chuckles as you manage to capture his lips in a kiss once again.

When you finally break apart, gasping for air, your eyes meet Lance's. His grip on your wrist tightens, as if he’s afraid to let you go, and in an attempt to calm his worries, you snake your hand into his and drag your index finger towards the center of his palm. “I meant what I said,” he says, breathily, “you deserve something better.”

“Lance,” you almost seem to grumble his name, “you are the ‘something better’.”

“Well I hoped you’d say that.” He nods his head, and throws you over his shoulder to walk towards his own hotel door.

A mixture of surprise and laughter escaping your lips, you playfully swat at his back as you try to urge him to put you down, but he just chuckles and continues on his mission. As the door to Lance's room closes behind you, the world outside fades away, and you find yourself enveloped in a bubble of anticipation and excitement. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lance gently sets you down on your feet. The room is dimly lit, casting a romantic glow that accentuates the chemistry between you. The air is charged with unspoken desires and a magnetic pull that draws you closer together. Lance takes a step towards you, his gaze filled with longing and affection. Without a word, he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender and passionate kiss.

In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melt away, replaced by the overwhelming certainty that you've found something truly special. It's a love that has been quietly brewing beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself. As your lips move together in a dance of shared desire, time seems to stand still. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate and electrifying connection. Every touch, every caress, ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself getting lost in the depths of Lance's embrace.

When you finally break apart, your eyes lock, and a shared understanding passes between you. It's a silent promise, a mutual agreement to explore this newfound love and see where it leads. With a smile that speaks volumes, Lance intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling you closer as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I promised you I’d take your dress off, didn’t I?”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lance stroll smut #lance stroll fluff

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hoejosatoru · 1 year

Text

I Choose You

Pairing: Fem! reader x Gabimaru (reader’s skin color/ hair color/texture not specified) (also I'm unclear on Gabi’s age but obviously he’s 18+ here)

Summary: When reader and Gabi’s marriage is arranged, neither are sure what to expect. Overtime, however, they find that their connection goes beyond just duty.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: both characters are lil shy and awkward at times (but its sweet), arranged marriage, bathing together, fingering, mutual virginity loss, cream pie, not proof read

a/n: I lost the sex scene not once, but TWICE, so I hope you enjoy because I suffered for it. Also I think this is literally the first Gabimaru smut so that’s cool

Your wedding day was something you pictured your entire life. You spent a lot of time thinking about the dress you would wear, the food you’d eat, the people you would celebrate with. Most of your daydreams, though, were spent wondering who your husband would be.

You thought about the ways you’d meet him. Maybe while out on a walk, or when you went to the market in the village. You imagined him being sweet and charming you. Taking you on dates and winning your heart. You pictured him as gentle, but strong, and, of course, handsome.

None of those things happened. There was no romance, just an order from your father. And now you sat next to your husband, a man who’s reputation proceeded him. Gabimaru the Hollow. He was not unhandsome, you noted, but that did not do enough to mitigate your fear of him. He was your father’s most fearsome shinobi, capable of things you couldn’t even imagine.

He was unassuming, despite his reputation. You expected him to be... well meaner. Or louder. Or something. He was oddly quiet, not speaking to you beyond what was necessary for the vows. He barely ate, too, though neither had you. But that was because of your nerves.

You knew what came after a marriage ceremony. No matter who you had married, you’d be nervous for that. But the fact that you didn’t know this man beyond his reputation made it even scarier. You weren’t ready for it, but if he wanted to have sex with you, you had no choice but to comply. It was what was expected of a good wife and you’d raise to be, above all, a good wife.

You tried watching Gabimaru out of the corner of your eye. He seemed disinterest, bored even. You wished you could read his mind, or that you at least felt brave enough to start conversation. You wondered how he felt about this. Anxiety fluttered through you. What if he was displeased? Your hand almost instinctively went up to the scar down your face, but you resisted. Perhaps he did not think you were beautiful. Though you had no strong feelings for the man, it still poked at your insecurity.

Suddenly, your father was announcing the end of the festivities. Your stomach churned with anxiety as you and Gabimaru were led to your place on the compound. The house was modest, but comfortable. There was even a private bathing area attached to it, which you were excited about. You, however, weren’t in the frame of mind to be all that excited over your living situation.

“Congratulation on your marriage. I hope you will both make our clan proud,” your father said, with very little warmth in his voice. He was never a kind man and you couldn’t imagine having to endure relentless training with him.

Then the door shut and you were alone with Gabimaru. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t hear him speak. “Do you know where the bedroom is?”

“Oh y-yes,” you replied, glad to have a task. You began walking and he followed behind you. “Since the wedding was announced, I have been preparing the house for us.” It was strange to have an ‘us.’ “I hope you will find it satisfactory.”

“It’s nice,” he noted.

“Thank you. Oh, here we are.” You stepped into the bedroom, which felt significantly smaller now that both of you were in it. “There’s sleepwear in the dresser.”

“Thank you,” he replied, pulling out what he needed. You took our your own and slipped behind the changing screen. Maybe it was silly to protect your modesty around your husband, especially when he was most likely about to take it all off, but it made you feel better.

Gabimaru was already on the bed when you stepped out. Your knees were weak, but you pushed yourself forward. You lied down next to him, hoping he couldn't hear your heart pounding. You were still as stone, waiting for him to move, to touch you, to have his way with you.

But then he surprised you. He softly said goodnight and turned his back to you to sleep. You felt a wave of surprise and relief that he did not intend to have sex with you. Though it did a lot to help your nerves, it did little to improve your insecurities. This time, you allowed your fingers to run over the scar on your face, wondering if you were not enough.

***

Over the next few weeks you got to know Gabimaru, who was nothing like you expected. You were waiting to see anger or cruelty or something to be scared of, but you never saw it. Indeed, he seems the opposite. He was quiet and unassuming, albeit a little strange. He had some odd habits, such as searching every corner of the house twice before bed, and was aloof at times, but never was mean.

It was strange, though, to see how other in the compound treated him. They were certainly afraid of him. Many avoided him altogether, or seemed uneasy when having to speak with him. Even your father’s most skilled and dangerous shinobi seemed on edge around him. If they acted that way, you knew the stories about him had to be true and yet, you had not been able to feel any fear towards him since the night of your wedding passed.

It was still a mystery how he felt about you. The first few nights after your wedding you kept expecting him to reach over and touch you or tell you he wanted you. However, at this point you have fully dropped that expectation. It was still a little odd to sleep next to a relative stranger, but you did feel oddly safe with him around.

Though you appreciated him never forcing himself on you, your fears of him not finding you attractive grew worse and worse. Why else would a man not sleep with his wife? You didn’t blame him, you knew the scar marred your beauty, but it still hurt. You tried not to dwell on it, as it was something you couldn’t change. Instead, you resolved to be the perfect wife in other ways. You were determined to connect with him.

“Gabi - uh do you mind if I eat with you tonight?” you were so nervous to ask that you didn’t even notice the nickname you’d given him. It caught Gabimaru’s attention, though, throwing him off.

“Oh, um, sure,” he replied, sitting down at the table. You felt a small rush of triumph. Gabi was often out late, eating long after you when he got home. Sometimes he didn’t eat at all. When he was home, he always went off to eat alone. It was one of his odd habits.

Gabi began to devour his food. And you mean devour. Shoveling it into his mouth so quickly you couldn’t imagine he even tasted it. You couldn’t help but laugh. He paused at the sound, looking up expecting to find you mocking him, but there was not a trace of malice in your laughter or your face.

“You don’t need to rush!” you said kindly.

Gabi knew the way he ate wasn’t normal. He was taught to eat this way in his training. Eating was a necessary evil, not something you took pleasure in. He was trained to eat his food for sustenance, nothing more. Gabi wasn’t sure what to say, so he just said, “Sorry.”

You smiled fondly at him. It stirred something deep inside him that he couldn't quite place. “No need to apologize. I just want you to enjoy it. After a long day you deserve it.”

You deserve it. Gabi had never been told that before, at least not for something good. No, only punishments were deserved. “I guess I was just taught this way.”

“I can teach you a new way... If you’d like,” you added as to not sound too assertive.

Gabimaru, in that moment, realized he would like to learn. “Yes... please”

You modeled for him, picking a few noodles up with your chopsticks and slurping them up slowly. He mimicked you, though still went a little too fast, causing the noodles to go a little haywire. They whipped around to hit his cheek and chin. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“That will happen if you go to fast,” you explained. “Try again, just a little slower.” Under you gentle instruction, he was able to slurp the noodles up with out a mess. You then instructed him to take a little sip of the broth and allow it to swirl around on his tongue before swallowing. Gabi’s eyes widened as he truly tasted his food for the first time in years. He couldn’t believe how good it was.

“This is so good,” he said. You beamed at the compliment, which only made him enjoy it more. You both sat together and ate slowly, an activity Gabi never thought could be so... nice.

“Do you have a favorite food? I want to make more things you’ll like.” He didn’t, what with how eating typically went for him. He told you as much. “That’s alright, we’ll just have to find your favorite together. I’ll try a bunch of different recipes and you can tell me which you like best. Would you like that?”

Gabimaru was not often shocked, but you really threw him for a loop. He did not expect much from a marriage. Honestly, he hadn't even really wanted it, but knew he couldn’t refuse the request from your father. Knowing him, he’d assumed you would be the same. Your kindness and gentleness with him was disarming.

“Yes, thank you y/n,” he replied. He was unnerved. Not in a bad way, like when he faced a strong opponent. He just didn’t know what to make of you. Gabi asked if there was anything he could do. He always felt best when he was given commands. It was comfortable for him to not have to make decisions for himself, rather just do as he was told.

“Oh, um,” you were surprised he offered to help. You were not used to that from the men you knew. “Some help cleaning the dishes would be great.”

Gabimaru nodded and joined you at the counter. You fell into an easy rhythm of you rinsing and him drying. There was silence between the two of you, but it was comfortable. Pleasant, almost. You almost wished there were more dishes to do just to prolong this time.

Finally, however, you finished. You didn’t want to push too far, so you just thanked Gabi for his help. Gabimaru nodded and started to exit the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, turning back to you.

He said what he had been thinking since he first heard you say it. “I… like when you call me Gabi. You can call me that from now on. And thank you again for the food.”

Your heart soared with pride. You were so pleased that your plan was a success. “Of course. I look forward to more meals with you, Gabi.” With that Gabi disappeared into the hallway, leaving you both with the faintest hint of a stirring that you couldn’t quite place.

***

The evening you shared dinner with Gabi seemed to be the icebreaker you both needed. You noticed that he started coming home earlier and made effort to eat with you. You loved watching him find joy in food and learning all the things he liked. You were slowly spending more time with each other and little by little getting to know each other more.

Gabi was still very guarded. He seemed nervous in ways or, rather, like a fish out of water. You quickly realized he didn’t know what it meant to live a “normal” life. It was why he ate too quickly, couldn’t do laundry, and struggled to make conversation. You knew it was all because of your father’s cruel training. It made you resent him more.

The only good thing it provided was more opportunities to connect with Gabi. Each time you taught him something new, you felt yourselves grow closer. It had only been a few weeks since that dinner and you felt yourself growing fond of him.

Well, more than fond truly. You were nervous around him, but not for the reasons you originally were. Your stomach filled with butterflies. As much as you learned about him, you wished for more. The time spent with him wasn’t enough.

You wished for a touch, even. Not that you were necessarily ready for sex, but a brush of hands, an embrace, anything to give an indication of how he felt. You felt he was connecting to you, but the lack of intimacy nagged at you. Could he just not be interested?

Little did you know that Gabi was very much interested. He savored the time you spent together, arguably even more than you did. He knew he wasn’t the best at companionship, but just listening to you talk brought up feelings in him he quite honestly didn’t know he had. He always feared he was disappointing you, but was soothed by the smiles you gave and the gentleness you showed him.

Gabi wanted to touch you, but he didn’t really know how. He was scared of hurting you or making you afraid. You were everything he wasn’t: sweet, kind, a caretaker. He knew you must be aware of his reputation, of who he was, and felt you must think he’s monster like everyone else does, even if you didn’t show it.

For those reasons, he felt he didn’t even deserve to touch you. There were, however, a few times in the night that your bodies had drifted together. Gabi was a very light sleeper and woke up the instant your body touched his. You were so warm, your scent so sweet, that he couldn’t pull himself away. It felt wrong, to steal these moments from you, but he couldn’t help himself. He always slipped away before you could wake and realize. It was better that way, he told himself.

What he felt for you was already dangerous. It went against everything he was trained to become: an unfeeling killing machine. If his judgement were to become clouded with feelings for you, it could put not only him but you in danger. He simply could not have that. Still, it was much easier said than done.

“Gabi there is something we need to work on,” you said, pulling him from his thoughts.

“What is that?”

“Bathing.”

“Bathing? What about it?”

“I don’t think you do it… right,” you said politely.

Gabi didn’t know there was a right and wrong way to bathe. He said as much to you.

“Well you don’t seem to indulge in it much. And when you do you’re barely in the bath for a few minutes. I don’t see how you can even enjoy it.”

“I was taught that baths are to be completed as quickly as possible. Any lingering could dull the senses,” he replied. He left out the part that those senses were necessary for his job of killing people. He didn’t want to fill your head with that vision of him. You looked at him with such empathy that it made his chest ache strangely.

“I know you were raised in a … strict environment. I imagine on a mission lingering in the bath is not advisable,” you replied, “but at home with me you are safe. I can promise you that. You deserve to relax. To feel clean.”

To feel clean. Gabi doesn’t think he’s felt truly clean in a very long time. He sometimes wondered if he was tainted the moment he was born. He wasn’t sure a bath would change that, but he could not resist the sweet smile on your face.

Gabi followed you to the bathing area, the part of the house he admittedly spent the least amount of time in. “Let me put some essential oils in the water before you get in. It’s good for you skin and smells nice. Would you like rose or lavender?”

You might as well be speaking another language. “Um. Which do you like?”

“Lavender.”

“I’ll take that one then.”

You smiled, which made Gabi’s chest feel lighter. You opened up a small bottle, putting a few drops of liquid in the water. Steam rolled up from the water as your swirled it around with your hand, filling the room with a pleasant scent. “There, that should be good. I’m going to get a few things, you can get in if you’d like.”

Gabi started to undress, which made your cheeks tint. You turned to gather some bars of soap and towels, but couldn’t help but peak over at him. You almost gasped seeing how his body was littered with scars. You of all people knew what it was like to carry scars; your heart ached for him and the pain he must have endured. You felt like you should look away as he stripped his lower half, but you could make your eyes move. You did not have much to compare to, but he looked large even when soft. Your cheeks had to be flaming red.

“Is everything okay?” Gabi asked as he stepped into the bath, his body disappearing below the water. Gabi wasn’t really uncomfortable with nudity, nor did he ever think his body could have an effect on you. He wasn’t sure what was making you blush, but did think you looked particularly pretty when your cheeks were pink.

“Y-yes, sorry I was just...” you mumbled, fumbling to pivot the conversation, “Wondering if the water is warm enough?” You told yourself to get it together, that there was no need to be bumbling like an idiot over nudity.

“Yes it’s good.”

You pulled yourself together and brought the soaps over to Gabi. You sat behind him, feeling grateful that the water and candlelight made it difficult to see much. You could see that Gabi still looked tense, though. “You need to relax.”

“I... I don't really know how to do that,” Gabi admitted.

You couldn’t help but giggle, which Gabi delighted in, despite feeling vulnerable. He always felt that way when you were teaching hims something new. “Try closing your eyes.” That went against all of Gabi’s instincts, but he did not want to disappoint you, so he complied. “Now try taking deep, slow breaths.” That Gabi could do fairly easily. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly over his shoulder. “Good Gabi, just like that.” Your praise made his cheeks burn. “May... may I touch you?”

Gabi’s pulse raced. He hoped his voice didn’t shake when he said, “Yes.”

“I’m going to start with your hair.” You collected some water in your hands, gently pouring it over the top of his head. You repeated the actions until his hair was nice and wet. You tried to focus on the task at hand so you did not get too nervous about the fact you were finally touching him. “This soap is specifically for hair. It smells like sandalwood. I think you’ll like it.”

You lathered the soap in your hands, before putting them in Gabi’s snowy hair. You gently rubbed little circles over his head to get it nice and soapy. You then allowed your nails to run over his scalp, getting a deeper clean.

“Wow,” an almost inaudible sigh left Gabi’s mouth. He couldn’t believe how good it felt just to have your hands on his head. Gabi didn’t really know what it meant to relax, but he felt a soothing sort of warmth starting to spread through his body and wondered if that was it.

You smiled at his reaction. “Feels nice, right?” Gabi nodded, letting himself get lost in your touch. You scrubbed at his hair until the bubbles rinsed away all the dirt. You hesitated a little before moving down to his shoulders, feeling little butterflies in your stomach. You ran the bar of soap over his shoulder and upper back, before massaging it in with your hands.

Gabi’s body tensed at first under your touch. He was not used to anyone touching him, at least not in a gentle way. However, the more your hands work over his body, the more he relaxed. You savored the feeling of his body beneath your hands. You could easily feel the strength of his muscles, thick and firm under his skin. The texture of his scars was a little rougher than the rest of his skin, but you didn’t mind at all. You were extra soft around them.

You were nervous to ask the next question, but you pushed through. “I- I will have to get in with you to do the rest of your body. But if you don’t want me to, that’s okay.”

Gabi almost said no, solely because the thought of you being naked in the bathing pool with him did something to his senses that more than dulled them. But he even with all his training, he could not resist it. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Your hands were shaking a little as you stood up and undressed. You left your clothes in a messy pile behind you as you walked to the other side of the bathing pool to climb in. You were so nervous about Gabi seeing you naked that you almost let out a laugh when you saw that he still had his eyes dutifully closed. He really wanted to look, but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He kept his eyes screwed shut even as he heard you stepping into the water.

“You can open your eyes now, if you’d like.”

He did, finding you up to your chest in the water. He could see the very top of your breast at the top of the water, but nothing more. You looked so beautiful with your cheeks flushed and shoulders bare that it made him shift nervously. You approached him slowly settling a few inches in front of him. He watched as you continued your work down his body, lathering and massaging the soap down his arms, his chest, his legs. You didn’t touch him between his legs and he was glad for it. He did not trust his bodily control that much.

Though having you so close to him and touching him made him nervous, he could not deny it felt amazing. He never lingered this long in the bath. Between the warmth of the water and the way you scrubbed him clean, he his body felt lighter than it had in a very long time. He was in awe of how you found the easiest ways to change his life.

“All done,” you said finally, “How do you feel?”

Gabi gave you the sweetest smile you’d seen in all the time you've know him. “Clean. Thank you.” You smiled equally as brightly in response. A thought dawned over Gabi that he knew was a bad idea, but he wanted to show you he could learn to be gentle. To be a normal person. “Can I... return the favor? It seems only right. And it would help me practice.”

The thought of Gabi’s hands on your body elicited a stirring in your lower belly. There was not a single part of you, though, that did not want it. “I would like that, thank you.”

You turned your back to him, sitting between his legs. Gabi took the soap from side of the pool, which so slick it slipped through his fingers and dropped into the pool. You both laughed lightly, breaking some of the nervous tension.

Gabi mimicked exactly what you did, starting with your hair. His fingers got a little tangled at first, but with some patient instruction he got the hang of it. He had a surprisingly careful touch that soothed you. You waited so long to know what his touch felt like and you were not disappointed. You had to fight the urge to lean into it more, to press your body against his.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hands slid around to your stomach. He did not touch your breasts, nor the space between your legs, but each time he got close you both blushed deeply. Not that you knew given that your back was still to him.

“Was that okay?” Gabi asked when he finished.

“That was perfect,” you replied, turning around to face him. You were so close to each other now, faces just inches a part. You felt drawn to him, like a moth to flame. Your voice was just a whisper when you asked, “May I try something?”

“Anything,” he breathed.

You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was the first kiss either of you ever shared and you both felt it ignite something deeper in you. You pulled away, breathless. Gabi was in stunned silence.

“Was that okay?” You asked nervously.

“Yes of course I- I just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain it. Not sure how to not expose all his vulnerabilities to you. “I just never thought you would want to do that with… someone like me.”

Your brows furrowed. “Someone like you? What do you mean.”

“I- I’m not a good person,” Gabi admitted, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re my husband.”

“But you didn’t choose me.”

“But I am choosing you,” you insisted, “I have chosen you ever say since our wedding. I will continue to choose you for as long as I shall live. I- I don’t care about what you think you are or what people say. I have seen you for who you really are. You are a good man, Gabi.”

You are a good man, Gabi. Your voice echoed in his head. He couldn’t believe that you could think so highly of him. Feel so strongly about him. It loosened something in his chest, filling him with such an aching want he couldn’t speak.

You mistook his silence for disinterest. “I hope I have not overstepped. If you do not feel the same I understand.” You went to turn away, but Gabi grabbed you.

“No, don’t go,” he urged. “I’m sorry, you know I am not good with words. I just never thought you would feel that way about me.”

“You do yourself a disservice, Gabi,” you replied, “truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t feel that way about me.” Your eyes dropped to the water, feel self conscious. “I thought I may not be beautiful enough for you.”

Gabi was astonished that you could think that. He gently cupped your cheek, making your eyes meet. The way he looked at you made your chest squeeze. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His thumb brushed over your scar. “I hate that you’ve been hurt like this, but I promise it does nothing to mar your beauty.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling all the insecurity and anxiety you’d felt the last few weeks melt away. “Gabi we haven’t made our marriage… official you know,” you blushed as you spoke. Gabis brows wrinkled in confusion, then shot up when he understood.

“Do you want to?”

You nodded. “Yes, I want to be with you like that. I know we didn’t chose each other initially, but we can choose this.”

“I would love to,” Gabi replied, his head spinning at the mere thought. “I’ve just never done that. With anyone.” Now you were surprised; you could believe he was a virgin like you. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing could be a disappointment with you,” you assured him. You took his hands in yours and squeezed them. “We will get to learn. Together.”

Gabi loved the sound of that. You both wasted no time climbing out of the tub. You didn’t bother covering yourself with clothing or a towel, allowing Gabi see your entire body. You felt a little shy under his gaze but not uncomfortable. He was mesmerized by the droplets of water dripping down your curves.

“So beautiful,” was all he could manage, but you felt the weight of the feelings behind his words. You took his hand in yours, loving its warm roughness. You found yourself in your room quickly. You both laughed with nervous excitement as you climbed on to the bed and settled next to each other. “May I kiss you?”

He was pulling you in the second you nodded. The kiss was deeper than the first. It was a little messy on account of both of yours lack of experience, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You let your hands trail his body, liking that your got to feel him without the barrier of water. You loved everything you felt, scars and all.

You sensed Gabi was still hesitant to touch you. You took his hands in yours, placing them on your sides. “Go on, Gabi. Touch me,” you urged softly, “I want you to.”

He could not deny you anything. He allowed his hands to explore your body. He couldn’t believe how soft you were. Feeling braver, he brought a hand to your breast and squeezed gently. The little gasp you made made blood rush between his legs.

He felt instinct take over and brought his lips to the sensitive flesh. He kissed it, ran, his tongue over your nipple, then sucked lightly. Your body arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. He loves that, how your body reacted to him, as if urging for more, which he was more than happy to give.

As he kissed at your breasts you could feel him growing harder against your thigh. You squirmed with need, thighs pressing together for friction. Gabi could not resist touching you between them any longer.

Though he had no previous partners, he had a general idea of how things worked and how sex was supposed to go. Lord knows he heard men talk enough about it. So he knew women were supposed to get wet, yet he was still shocked by the slickness between your legs. In the best way possible.

“So wet,” he murmured, running his fingers through it. You were practically shaking with anticipation as his fingers ghosted over your clit. He noted how your body twitched and made a mental note to go back to that. He slid a finger inside you savoring the gasped you made. You were so wet and warm and tight around his finger, he couldn’t imagine how you’d feel around his cock.

Gabi never cared that much about getting off; it had always just been a matter of necessity for him. He never really did it out of desire or want, but he wanted you so bad it hurt. He pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face carefully for response. When he found a spot inside you that made you gasp particularly loud, he zeroed in on that. As your breath grew ragged, he remembered the other spot he wanted to try. He slid his fingers out of you and brought them to your clit, rubbing it.

“Feels so good,” you gasped.

“You like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, “Don’t stop.” Gabi continued touching you just you asked. Each little circle he rubbed made the coil of pleasure in your lower stomach feel tighter. Gabi’s fingers felt so much better than your own. He leaned in taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking. The sensation caused the coil to snap, spreading pleasure across every inch of your body. Gabi watched as you came, your face went slack with bliss, your body arched. He wanted to watch you do that over and over.

“You’re good at that,” you said with a shy giggle when you came down from your high.

“Thank you,” Gabi beamed at the compliment.

Your eyes traveled down his body, seeing how hard he was with need. Gabi felt a little shy under your gaze, but let you look. You looked up at him. “You’re so handsome,” you said, “And I want all of you.”

Your hands traveled down his body, taking his cock in your hands. You pumped the length a little and Gabi’s hips stuttered. It was such a slight touch, but it drove him wild. You pulled him closer to you, rubbing him against your slick cunt. His head nudged against your hole and you looked to him for more.

“And you’re sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” Gabi heard the first time could be uncomfortable for girls; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“I trust you,” you replied definitively. That almost meant more to him than everything else you have said to him.

When he finally pressed into you, you both gasped. It was such a full, foreign feeling, but not unpleasant. Gabi tried to steady himself as he felt your gummy walls squeeze around him. “Are you in any pain?” he asked though gritted teeth.

You felt very full and a little pressure, but nothing painful. “I’m okay Gabi, keep going.” He did has you bid him, rolling his hips slowly so you could both adjust. Each moment that passed made the pressure melt to pleasure. His cock tip brushed the sweet spot inside you. Each sweet sound that left your mouth urged him to continue. He gripped the bed sheets tightly, trying to not to spill too soon.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your bodies completely pressed together as you kissed him. You both loved the connectedness, how you didn’t really know where one started and the other ended. You both didn’t knew sex was supposed to feel good, but you didn’t know it would feel this good.

You hips bucked up to meet Gabi’s, pressing him deeper inside you. Your second orgasm snuck up on you, seizing your body with warm bliss. Gabi got lost in the feeling of squeezing him, moaning his name in his ear. His hips twitched as he came, filling you with his warm release.

You were both breathlessly and smiling as you came down from you high. You felt so deeply connected to Gabi in that moment that you couldn’t believe there was a time you didn’t know him.

You pushed his hair out of his eyes, smiling up at his face. “I love you, Gabi. And I choose you. Always.”

“Thank you for showing me what love could be,” Gabi replied, kissing your lips. He held you close, glad that finally he would not have to slip away from you. He could hold you, choose you. Forever.

#here she is #the first? gabimaru smut #gabimaru smut #hell’s paradise #hells paradise smut

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abbysdruidess · 1 year

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˜”°•.˜”°• headcanons about you and abby's wedding - modern au •°”˜.•°”˜

wc: 1.1k

warnings: wedding w modern au(obvs), crying, tooth rotting fluff, allusions to sex, no use of y/n

a/n: lmk what you guys think of this one and whether you'd like more of reader and Abby in this universe! don't hesitate to send any requests<33

this is sort of on theme with a previous fic where abby proposes to you, this one can be read as a standalone though:))

❦ after the proposal, you guys hurrying too much to get the wedding off the road and on the rails- you're still extremely proud and giddy to call each other your fianceé, and you've sent about 100 pictures of your wedding ring to everyone.

❦ it isn't until one night where you're having dinner over at jerry's that he brings up the wedding preparations and you're like oh shit, you two kinda need to haul ass and start sending invites.

❦ you decided on a small affair, only your immediate families and close friends over. I imagine that in the insistence of your future brother in law Lev you sent out RSVP invitations that were ocean themed with cute little sharkies on the front that say in a vast ocean of people we found each other(💀). A lot of people found them pretty funny though, and Lev was pretty excited about them.

❦ on par with the beach theme of your engagement, you decided to have the wedding on a beautiful beach resort in the beginning of June-not too hot, not too cold;)-with the ceremony and the reception on the shore.

❦ of course, you couldn't leave out the bachelorette party! You and Abby travel to Vegas with your respective friend groups for a weekend of clubbing and partying in general. And lets be fr, someone from either of two groups ends up getting lost and you have to recover him Hangover style. Thank God you didn't arrange for it the day before the wedding.

❦ the days before the upcoming event are mostly a blur, both of you making last minute arrangements about the food, the flowers, the music. Your gown with the final adjustments is delivered and you have to hide it in a fridge box in the basement so Abby won't take a peek.

❦ "But baaabe, I just wanna see what it looks like! You know this stuff about bad luck isn't actually legit." "I know, but it will be more exciting to see the final look at the wedding. I promise you."

❦ finally the big day is here! And let me just say, as a very emotionally constipated person, you'd probably be a little teary eyed all day long. When you put on your gown and look at yourself in the mirror and realise that holy shit, I'm about to marry the love of my life, my Abigail, she wants to spend the rest of her life with me. And this just hits you all at once and a few tears run down your chin.

❦ if you have any wedding traditions from your culture that you'd like to honour, Abby would be 100% down for it. It makes her feel closer to you, and part of the new family she's going to be in. She also really likes listening to its origins and what it's supposed to represent. In my country, we do this thing where the wedding squad writes all their names down in the couples' shoes and by the end of the night whoever's name is the most smudged is the one who's going to get married first. Let's be real, if they did this, it'd probably Manny whose name had almost disappeared and he'd freak the fuck out.

❦ once you're ready to walk down the aisle, and you glance at Abby you let out a small ᵍᵃˢᵖ at the sight, with Abby dressed to the nines and a glowing expression on her beautiful face. Her mouth also formed a little O at the sight of you, ready to become her wife, looking so so happy and a slightly teary eyed.

❦ during the actual ceremony, you two keep stealing glances at each other, smiling kinda goofily like :]. You two are goobers fr.

❦ for the vows, I think the game establishes that Abby is a big bookworm, so she chooses something perhaps from Emily Bronte or Jane Austen. Of course this isn't the entirety of what she wrote, she just finds it more accurate to express her love for you through someone's else perfectly adept words.

❦ once the reception kicks in, you're carefully wiping tears from your eyes so you don't smudge your makeup, and take some photos with the wedding party on the beach. You're accepting everyone's congratulations for your newlywed status, and settling down to prepare for your first dance.

❦ you had decided on dancing to Por Una Gabeza, and had actually rehearsed the slow tango a couple times so your movements are synchronised. By the end of the dance, you're in each other's arms, cheek to cheek simply enjoying the moment.

❦ by the time you've finished you meal, the party is in full swing, and you join in for a few dances until you decide on a cake break and allow Yara to be Abby's dancing partner. By the way, your wedding cake? Exquisite, chocolate ice cream with strawberry.

❦ I also imagine you guys doing the whole tossing the bouquet thing and -surprise surprise!-it ends up on Manny's lap on accident. He almost leaves.

❦ by the night, you're both clinging to each other, ready to resume your lives as Mrs and Mrs, and also ready to break into the bridal bed. Seriously, you can feel Abby's fingers feeling up your thigh and she's been whispering the things she wants to do to you all night. By 2 in the morning you're home, very much exhausted by the preparations and the emotional high, but also very ready to let Abby peak what's under your bridal gown.

❦ for wedding gifts to each other? She hands you two tickets for some exotic island you guys always talked about going, and make it your honeymoon. You get her an antique vinyl record player, because she had always been going about getting something to listen music to while cooking. Needless to say you both love each other's gifts:D

❦ a week or so after the ceremony you receive the photographs, and Abby makes it her duty to hand them on every corner of the house. Seriously, at some point, you could see a photo of you two in your field of vision pretty much about everywhere.

❦ her favourite one remains in her desk, one where you two are about to leave, sweaty and drunk, the camera capturing your musky faces as you sit on her lap clinging for dear life. It's so sweet and endearing, and it reminds her why she married you in the first place.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fic

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fairdale · 5 months

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to william herondale, with love

you have two options when it comes about will.

you can choose to stay in the surface, to think of him as a sassy, sarcastic, superficial and selfish man who doesn't give a shit about anything nor anyone except for jem, who makes insensitive jokes and doesn't care if he hurts people.

or you can choose to know him. the little parts of him that make him wonderful, sweet, delicate and caring. and, oh, how much love will fill your heart when you realise how much he deserves to be loved.

and how much he craves it.

will is sarcastic, yes. he's funny, he pulls off jokes like it's nothing, he makes people laugh, he sings the demon pox song and makes everyone think he's a little crazy.

but he's also the kid who left his family too young because he thought he was cursed and he loved them too much.

he's also the kid who thought no one could ever love him anymore.

he's also the kid who felt terribly lonely after leaving his family.

he's also the kid who wanted jem to be his parabatai so badly he didn't care he was sick and that he would leave him too soon.

he's also the kid who didn't want people too close to him because he loved them and didn't want anything bad to happen to them. jem was different. it wasn't just because he was sick, it's because he was jem. because jem saw who he truly was when no one else did. his heart beat because jem's did as well.

he's also the man who loved to read. the man whose name will still be dancing in the walls of the library centuries later. the man who found a safe place between books.

he's also the man who was so in love with tessa he tried to break the curse after years of living like that, because his love was so pure, so deep, so real, he had to do something.

he's also the man who put his hands into the fire to save jem's yin fen, because he couldn't imagine a life without him. because he didn't want a life without him.

he's also the man who was desperately in love with tessa, but made himself scarce because he couldn't put his own happiness over tessa and jem's. because he saw how good they were to each other.

he's also the man who held jessamine in his arms when she died too young.

he's also the man who let jem go when he told him he didn't want to live like that anymore even though it would forever break him and he would take a part of his soul with him.

he's also the man who went to save tessa even when he felt his heart getting carved out of his chest when jem died.

he's also the man who learned how to have his sister next to him again, the man who went back to his parents even if he were terrified.

he's also the man who made sure tessa never doubted for a second that he was devoted to her.

he's also the man who travelled the world with her and wrote her letters to show his love.

he's also the man who made sure to love his children loudly, to tell them he was proud of them and that they weren't monsters.

he's also the man who fought against injustices in the clave.

he was also the man who died surrounded by his loved ones (because he was, in fact, so loved).

he was also the man watching jem and tessa's wedding dream since the other side of the river, being happy for them.

will was the man with a heart so big he didn't know what to do with all the love he held in it.

when someone asks me, but why do you love him so much? well, how can you not? how, when he tried to love so quietly but he was screaming, when he was trying not to care but he cared more than anyone.

will herondale was, is and forever will be the character i hold closest to my heart, the character who made me laugh, cry and love the most.

"he lies consistently. he always invents the story that will make him look the worst."

"but it was there, in the touch of his hand on her cheek, in the softness of his voice, in his eyes when he looked at her. it was the way she had always dreamed a boy would look at her. but she never dreamed up someone as beautiful as will, not in all her imaginings."

"all my life, since i came to the institute, you were the mirror of my soul. i saw the good in me in you. in your eyes alone i found grace. when you are gone from me, who will see me like that?"

"against his own will, almost, will felt himself understanding; he would have done anything, he thought, told any lie, taken any risk, to make tessa love him. he would have done— almost anything. he would not betray jem for it. that was the one thing he would not do."

"don’t you see, will? you’re a person like me. you are like me. you say the things i think but never say out loud. you read the books i read. you love the poetry i love. you make me laugh with your ridiculous songs and the way you see the truth of everything. "

"when she tilted her head up and brushed his lips with hers, he cupped her face in his hands. so many years, he thought, and each kiss was new as the break of day."

"wo men shi sheng si ji jiao," said will, and he saw jem’s eyes widen, fractionally, and the spark of amusement inside them. "go in peace, james carstairs."

"and in the shadows they’d whispered, reminding each other of the stories only they knew. of the girl who had hit over the head with a water jug the boy who had come to rescue her, and how he had fallen in love with her in that instant."

"she remembered when will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty."

"i don’t know how to live in the world as a shadowhunter without will. i don’t think I even want to. i am still a parabatai, but my other half is gone. if I were to go to some Institute and ask them to take me in, i would never forget that. i would never feel whole."

"i miss you. we miss you. someday, we'll all be together. not too soon, my angel tessa. i can wait."

...

"my name is herondale," the boy said cheerfully. "william herondale, but everyone calls me will."

#tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #tid #tlh #will herondale #jem carstairs #tessa gray #i love will with all my heart you don't understand #i cried while writing this #don't judge me ok #herongraystairs #the infernal devices #the last hours

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vermutandherring · 2 months

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I've always felt that there was something missing from the romance in The Sims 4, though I can't quite put my finger on what. The depth of the relationship? Passion? Variety of interactions? Now, 10 years later, when our characters have learned how to raise children and organize weddings, we can finally teach them the art of love. At least that's what you'd expect from a Lovestruck.

Meet Julianne - together with her we will discover a never-before-seen world of romance, the journey to which starts from the phone (let's ignore the fact that I chose to play in my historical save file). Game doesn't give us a separate option to create an account on the dating app. As with Social Bunny, it works by default. From the first minutes of playing for another household, several sims called my character: some claimed that they got this number from friends, others that they were impressed by the profile in Cupid's Corner (which I did not create) and wanted to get to know each other. Arguably, your large social circle and popularity will attract more potential love interests. Or it's just my imagination and your acquaintances will have no effect on the appearance of calls with offers to get to know each other.

You can take your own profile photo, but without corresponding skill it will take some time. Actually, I love how cute it looks.

However, the best way to succeed in anything is to take matters into your own hands. The game offers us 6 candidates every 12 hours, which you can immediately add to your contacts and go on a date. These are both homeless NPCs and sims you create. I did not check whether it is possible to meet profiles of characters with romantic relationships, but all the households I came across were single, which is obviously the main condition for Cupid's Corner.

I also can't tell if the game selects profiles according to a certain principle. Only 1-2 sims had the same traits as Julianne. The rest were matched by age and gender. All this gives the impression that the application for dating is made somewhat lazily. There is very little information about the characters - only 2 traits, age and living place. And this despite the fact that in CAS we can choose an incredible number of hobbies and traits that can attract our sims.

It was funny to see profiles of the sims' I made before. You can say Wesker is always in my saves ✨

Perhaps there is logic in this, if we take into account that sims themselves have to learn more about each other during dates. So, having chosen 3 candidates, I send Julianne on the first date. Here you have to be careful and send your sims exactly on a date from the EP. Now, in addition to the huge and chaotic menu of communication, you will have another type of dating, which does not overwrite the basic one, but exists separately (which, in my opinion, does not make any sense, since they are identical in essence). After looking through the buy catalog beforehand, I purchased a picnic tablecloth and a board game, hoping to try out some new interactions.

Oh, this iconic arrival on the lot where sims stand around, waving their fingers until they want to drink water or to do the push-ups. I don't think that you are obliged to gift something on the first date. However, here we are talking about a game with a somewhat hyperbolic reality. It would be very nice if your partner greeted you with flowers, candy or a funny gift. But… no. Do you remember the phrase about taking matters into your own hands?

Dating in Lovestruck is no different from basic dating, except that it is now organized as an event, for which you will receive a reward. To finish it successfully, you need to complete as many tasks as possible: talk, flirt, and do activities that you have previously chosen. Like always, everything on the date depends only on you. This is the first and not the last time when I want to remember previous Sims games. Unlike the fourth part, in Sims 2 you can't spend the perfect date relying only on your whims. You should pay attention to your partner's wishes by asking what they want or checking their wishes on the date panel. This way, you make sure that both characters have a good time interacting with each other. In the Sims 4, those moments when your love interest takes the initiative are rather annoying, because their actions may not count towards the dating success scale, wasting your time.

Let's return to Julianne. A bit of grilled cheese, light conversation and a board game were a good start to getting to know each other. The picnic tablecloth is officially my absolute favorite part of the DLC. You can do relatively many things together, and it looks a lot better than sitting in different corners of the room with plates in hand. For me personally, this is exactly what I was missing - to watch how sims adequately communicate with each other, without getting up from their seats to play on the computer. This date ended with gold, for which Julianne received a sweet photo with Vittorio.

Without wasting time, Julianne goes on a second date. It was a bit more boring as I sent sims to a bar to explore the new town. Ciudad Enamorada is a new world, which represents the countries of the Iberian basin and Latin America. It is difficult for me to clearly state my opinion about the city. On the one hand, it is very reminiscent of San Myshuno, but feels more empty and sham like in the case of Tomarang. I suspect that EA have been planning for a long time to move to more modern versions of DirectX and started making bigger worlds full of large, carefully decorated areas to create an open world feel. In the already mentioned Tomarang, you can view the whole neighborhood, while being on the same lot.

But this attempt to deceive the player does not save the situation. The streets look empty due to too little traffic of cars and characters. 10 characters in the cozy Willow Creek neighborhood add life to the town, while the same number of characters in the huge Ciudad Enamorada give the impression of a ghost city.

There's not a lot you can do in these areas, and it turns this beautiful city into another one empty box.

Although there are also pleasant moments. For example, in parks you can meet characters spending time together. Just don't look at them for too long, otherwise you will notice that they sit on the benches for whole days, poking their fingers at the clouds and at the starry sky.

Now your sims can stargaze on the benches and this animation is really sweet. I'd wish it were just a bit more diverse, maybe with kissing interaction (my man deff doesn't understand hints).

Julianne's date with Hosea went well. It was the usual conversations about interests and jokes over a glass of root beer and a little flirting. Since this is the first meeting, Julianne did not insist on extremely frank details, stopping at superficial facts about herself, because now you can not only ask your beloved ones about their likes, but also share your own. The developers tried to deepen the relationship by adding more psychological moments. It would seem that the preferences of sims should be based on this, which would influence their choice of a partner. But to be honest, I couldn't feel it. The information you learn about the characters constantly bombards you with an endless number of messages, reading which is very tiring. Even after reaching the maximum relationship, my sims never developed any specific preferences and could not tell each other anything new (or maybe I create too boring sims).

The second date quickly tired me out, as it was not much different from the first. I managed to finish it for silver, after which Julianne had a little rest. As a reward, she received a teddy bear. I expected that partners after successful dates would quickly want to see each other again. But the rare times they did call, they were asking for advice on relationships with other sims. This is another gap that the devs didn't try to fix or simply ignored its existence - the game does not take into account your current relationship and romantic level with other characters. I think this is an interesting option if you are playing for a polyamorous relationship. But for Julianne, I set the goal to find a partner and chose the exact settings for her in CAS, which the game ignored. Frustrated by this, I sent her on a third date.

It was awful. Julianne couldn't find approach to Omari, and each of their lines turned the date into a complete mess. Neither jokes nor attempts to find a common language helped. It ended up with bronze and little flower as a reward for wasted time. You can also end the date early, or ask to extend it if you don't have time to collect the reward (the additional time decreases with each attempt). Maybe things would have turned out better if Julianne had practiced her romance skill. This is another controversial point for me, with which I cannot decide.

Of course, we must learn to find an approach to each other, train patience, be able to accept our partners and talk about our problems and complaints to each other in order to solve them. But in Lovestruck, romance skill is geared towards unlocking additional interactions, such as kissing or sharing candy box. Do I really have to go on multiple dates and get into relationships with different partners to finally learn how to present sweets? I understand that this was done mostly in order to make the gameplay a little more difficult and exciting, to add some time before you get completely bored.

After all, this skill exists because there must be new skill in Expansion Pack. It's very reminiscent of a similar parenting skill in Parenthood, but some things look absurd. Skills from WW has more sense, but for obvious reason devs can't put something that spicy into the game. Eventually, I got tired of developing a talent for romancing other sims and had to use a cheat code.

Julianne ended up with Hosea. Not because he called after a date or wanted to see her. But because I accidentally bumped into him while was hanging around in the park doing quest (this is really tiny quest you can find in the park and finish it within 10 minutes, 5 of which is loading screens). As we know, nothing makes you closer and helps to grow connection like fishing. But this I would do without paying 40$ (or 999 UAH, for God's sake).

I got tired of Julianne's love story. I tried pushing their progression with Hosea to see what else the game can propose. Not that much. So I switched on other married couple.

I adore new furniture. It embody well the atmosphere of romance and erotic mood, which can be supplemented with wallpaper with interesting animal patterns (I missed zebra and leopard prints since Sims 2). It looks like something you expect to meet in the 'certain places for adults' and I like that devs went a bit further than just a bunch of cute stuff. The only thing that does not go well with the 'strip-clubs-velvet style' is art deco. Why don't make more club/bar furniture with booth seats, puffs and huge mirrors in soft cloth is beyond me. But now, if you want full art deco collection, you should get Hight School Years and Lovestruck altogether. I find it quite funny, not sure either in bad or good context.

As I already mentioned, picnic tablecloth is my absolute favorite from the whole EP. It also has the bear rug variation, which fits just perfect for your romantic evenings by the fireplace. I'm sure Victor and Lily will agree with this.

Same interactions are available for both the rug and the cloth because these are literally the same object.

But what if I tell you that it already was in The Sims, 20 years ago?

Gif made from this video. All credits to the original creator.

I don't like to think about it as an "easter egg". Almost every DLC for The Sims 4 is repeating of the same content and functions from the previous games, but with less functionality. And EA charges extra money for it over and over again. Now let's just wait till they figure out how to implement the biggest easter egg of The Sims series ever - cars.

You can make your sims sitting with drinks like in The Sims 1, but of course it has different vibe.

Time to talk about the "hottest" part of this add-on - the seductive dance. To do this, you will have to develop a little not only relationships, but also romantic skill. Dressing up in erotic outfits is optional and not a requirement. That's where all the fun ends. Your partner will begin to move to the rhythm of the dance, which lasts several minutes and during which nothing happens but monotonous movements. Again, this can be described with the words "cute" and "funny", which fits perfectly with the whole family friendly concept of the game. To be honest, I am not categorically against this, because the step towards real erotic and sexuality makes The Sims 4 hover over the abyss of what is appropriate for its age limit.

This review is already too long, but I would like to add a little more about the interactions. I counted a dozen new romantic interactions with animations. For some of them, you will have to increase your romantic skills. Other parts (such as questions or flirting) use the same animations as in the base game. The menu of relationships has become even more chaotic, the description of preferences is even more complicated and unclear. If you want to make the gameplay more varied, you will have to spend a lot of time reading the explanations and noting these details in your head. And even then, I'm not sure if it will make your game more diverse.

As It's been told many times before, Lovestruck EP makes the romance too complicated. Obviously, the developers tried to add depth to the relationship that was so lacking, but in the end they went in wrong direction. Maybe I should play more to understand new features better. But I just don't have the desire for it. The gameplay became so full of text that I started to turn a blind eye to it. I have no doubt that the new features will give someone more variation to play and build their stories. But for me this DLC doesn't cost neither full nor discount price at all.

I love suits and Lily in butler's uniform wins my heart 🖤 Pose is CC.

There are also some features I didn't mention (like therapy for couples which broke my relationship) so there's a bit more to discover. You are free to argue with me of course. Sometimes I think I'm too biased about the game.

#sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 lovestruck #ts4 lovestruck #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 screenshots #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 gameplay #vermutandherring

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