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forbidden-sin-bin · 1 year

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Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagines #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers smut

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somanyratsinthewalls · 9 months

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The Crew's Whore Part 6 (+18)

The Crew’s Whore (Part 6) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Nami x Robin x Female!Reader

WC: 2200

TW: gossip, alcohol consumption, making out, lesbian sex, wlw, threesome, fingering, face sitting, ass play, squirtin! three girls, mild voyeurism, oral sex, Sanji having an aneurysm.

— —

It was growing late in the evening aboard the ship. The table in the center of your bedroom was littered with wine bottles and empty chip bags. Robin was laying on her back on the loveseat in your room while you and Nami were laid on your bed. You were on your stomach, propped up on your elbows facing Robin on your couch while Nami had settled against the pillows at your headboard. The three of you were all reading through the huge stacks of trashy magazines you had purchased at the last island.

This was a guilty pleasure of yours. The life of a pirate isn’t exactly one that allowed many feminine wiles. Because of that, the three of you loved to splurge on girly gossip rags whenever you arrived at civilization.

“‘Hot or Not? Marines’ I’m voting not.” Robin skims through the pages of the magazine and comments at the articles. “Oooh here’s one. ‘Who is Your Warlord Boyfriend? Take This Fun Quiz to Find Out.’ I hope I get Mihawk. He’s probably the least offensive of the bunch.”

“Wait check how old it is, is Jinbe still in there?” Nami closes her magazine. Robin flips through the pages and settles on one.

“Damn, this is only from a few months ago. Could you imagine if he was???” Robin chuckled.

“We could never let him live it down.” You laughed as you flipped through your own magazine. “I’m sure he was quite the stud back in the day.”

“I mean… if you’re into that!” Nami couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. The three of you laughed together, there were at least 2 empty bottles hanging around your room from just this evening. You grab a handful of potato chips and shove them into your mouth. You take a gulp of wine to wash them down.

“If Sanji knew we were having convenience store cinnamon buns and spicy chips for dinner, he would have a fucking heart attack.” Nami remarked with a smirk.

“Doesn’t that make it taste better?” Robin smiles as she takes a drink.

You both hum in agreement and raise your glasses to the middle of the room casually.

“How exactly did you assure that the ever present cook would leave us alone tonight?” Robin looks up from her magazine quiz to meet your gaze.

“I jerked him off before we left for town. 10 minutes in exchange for peace all night? An easy deal to make.” You smirked.

“Not in the galley though, right? ‘Cuz we like? Eat there?” Nami cocked her head at you, annoyed.

“No of course not!” You shoot back and return to your magazine. “Not today at least.”

Suddenly a pillow was launched at your head and you felt Nami next to you kick your shins.

“Gross!” She half scolded half laughed at you.

“Hey don’t look at me! Blame your cook for his appetite!” You toss the pillow back jokingly at Nami.

“Honestly he’s been much more enjoyable to be around now that he finally has an outlet for his proclivities. I have to extend my gratitude!” Robin remarks.

“No thanks needed, it’s what I enjoy doing. If it makes being around a ship full of sweaty men more tolerable, then I’m only reaping the extra benefits.” You smile and kick up your feet behind you.

“OK I know I said I’d never ask about it, but like… there’s no way they can all make you cum, right? Like, most of them are certifiably stupid.” Nami asks, feeling curious after a few drinks.

“Hah!” You laugh. “Not really at first with some, no. But… men are surprisingly trainable. Even the stubborn ones are very easy to bend to exactly how you like it.”

“Ew sorry I asked.” Nami rolls her eyes and returns to her magazine.

You chuckle and go back to reading the article ‘Latest Beauty Craze: Moisturizer Made From Sea King Semen. Would You Try It?’ You finish your wine and settle back onto the bed.

“You know Franky’s dick vibrates, right?” You burst out into the silence.

“AAAAH!” “Yes.” Nami and Robin reply differently but at the same time. Robin laughs and Nami contemplates killing both of you before she wrestles you playfully onto your back.

“You are so nasty!” Nami huffs out from above you.

“You have actually no idea how nasty I am.” You grin up at her before taking her by surprise and flipping your positions so that she was on her back with you hovering over her.

“You don’t say? Maybe I’d like to find out why the freak cook likes you so much…” You weren’t expecting her to match your flirtatious energy so you were shocked to say the least. Suddenly the tides were shifted again and Nami flips you back over and straddles your hips.

“I’d love to show you..” You look up at Nami with half lidded eyes, her hands pinning your forearms above your head.

Nami leans down and kisses you, gently at first. You softly moan at the feeling of her soft lips on yours and she uses this opportunity to kiss you harder. Nami moves from your lips to kiss and bite at your neck while she yanks your shorts off your body. You gasp sharply at the cool air hitting your now exposed sex. Without reacting, Nami quickly pulls your sports bra over your head, leaving you completely naked on the bed. She hovers over your nude form with a wicked smile on her face.

“Your turn.” You smirk and tug firmly at Nami’s top. She sits up briefly to remove her crop top and lets her breasts bounce freely in front of you. They were absolutely stunning. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you and you buried your face between them, relishing in how the soft, plush skin feels against your cheeks. You placed a small kiss between her tits before you slide your hand down to cup her clothed sex.

“Let me taste it.” You seductively whisper up at her.

“You’re so cute, I’m starting to see why the boys won’t put you down.” Nami remarks at you before getting off of you to remove her shorts and panties. Snapped out of your frenzied foreplay, you both remember that you aren’t alone in your bedroom.

“Care to enjoy her with me, Robin? You’re more than welcome.” Nami asks while fluffing the pillow laying under your head affectionately.

“You girls look so pretty, I think I’ll just watch for right now, if that’s alright?” Robin winks at Nami and settles back on the loveseat. Nami winks back as she moves to straddle your face.

“Hear that, y/n? Robin said we look pretty. Don’t you agree?” Nami teases as she lowers her slick pussy down towards your waiting mouth. You felt your cunt clench as you saw Nami’s pink lips glisten with arousal leaking from around her tight hole.

“Mhm…” You reach your arms to hook around Nami’s thighs so she couldn’t escape your hold. “So fuckin’ pretty…”

You pull Nami down to sit fully on your face and she shrieks as you begin to kiss and suck at her clit lightly. You pay sweet, loving attention to Nami’s sensitive bud as you knead at the soft skin of her hips and tummy with your hands. Nami throws her head back and moans, her long orange hair tickling your forehead. You spend what feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye between Nami’s legs and you had barely noticed the pulsing throb of your own cunt.

“Oh sweet y/n, you’re doing such a good job making her feel good. I think it’s only fair you get a reward too, don’t you?” You hear Robin coo from across the room on the couch. Suddenly you feel two slim fingers stroke up and down your wet slit teasingly. You groan into Nami’s pussy at the sensation.

Once deciding you had received enough torture, Robin’s pointer and middle finger slip easily into your wet walls. She curls them gently to just barely graze your sweet spot and pulls back. She repeats her actions until you were whining and begging underneath Nami.

“You focus on making Nami cum, sweetheart. Once you do that, I’ll let you have yours.

*easy enough…* you thought to yourself.

You slide your tongue backwards from her clit through her now dripping folds. Continuing further, you use your hands to pull Nami’s ass apart and begin licking at her tight ass.

“HOLY SHIT- Y/n! What are you?!” Nami jolts and looks back at you.

You look back up at her and rub small circles around Nami’s asshole.

“If you trust me, I can make you cum so hard.” You ask breathlessly, so close to your own release you could taste it.

“I… yes…”

You smile and continue rubbing the tight hole. You return to suckling and licking Nami’s clit and slowly slip your thumb into Nami’s virgin ass.

“Ah!” Nami shouts.

You pick up your pace with your mouth and you can tell the woman above you is getting close. A few moments later you feel Nami’s body jerk forward and she slams her eyes shut.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna- AH!” You feel Nami’s muscles tighten all over her body, inside and out. Droplets of Nami’s release splatter all over your face and neck and the feeling makes you groan and clench around Robin’s fingers. Nami collapses to the side of you with heavy breaths.

“Wow you did such a good job girls! Now it’s your turn to cum, y/n. Would you like that?” Robin’s soothing voice reaches your ears. Now that Nami was off of your chest, you realize Robin never had gotten up, only using her Devil Fruit powers to play with your pussy from across the room.

“Yes, fuck! Yes I want to cum, please!” You pant out, exhausted from being on edge for so long. You look at Robin with pleading eyes. You see she has hiked up her skirt and discarded her panties, using a hand to gently rub at her cunt. This hand was also soaking wet, so she must have just finished herself. Robin uses the fingers inside of you to hammer into your g-spot repeatedly, and another hand to push down on your stomach.

“Shit, yes! I’m so close!” You cry out and writhe against the comforter.

“Come on, give it to us.” You hear Nami purring up at you from her head now resting on your thigh. She lifts her hand and uses it to rub your clit in tight circles. The combined sights and sensations sent you into a brain melting orgasm and you feel fluids and tension leave your body. You couldn’t form words so you just arched your back and moaned at your ceiling.

You flopped down bonelessly on your bed and caught your breath. “We should probably shower and change before bed, right?” Robin suggests as she stands up.

“And we should probably sleep in my room… unless we want to change the sheets.” Nami looks at you and giggles.

“Yes to both.” You throw a towel on and give one to Nami to wear to the bathroom. The three of you casually leave your room and head down the hallway of the ship to the bathroom. Upon exiting your room, you run into a certain ever present cook coming down from the kitchen for the night carrying a pile of folded clothes.

“Oh, hey Sanji.” You all greet him in passing.

“Y/n I took the liberty of doing your laundry today, shall I put it in your room?” Sanji smiles brightly at you.

“That would be great, thank you Sanji.” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you enter the bathroom with the girls. You chuckle, remembering where your lips had just been. The three of you turn on the showers and strip down.

“You know that skin cream article was actually really interesting, I think I’m gonna buy some.” Nami makes casual conversation as you all enjoy your showers.

Suddenly you hear a man scream followed by the sound of a body hitting the wooden floor of the ship. The three of you look at each other.

“Oh my god. My room! Sanji probably passed out!” You clasp your hand over your mouth.

The three of you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Let’s clean the room and leave him there. That way we can gaslight him into thinking it was a fever dream.” Nami grins.

“You’re a genius.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #op nami #with: nami #strawhats #straw hat pirates #robin x reader #robin #nico robin

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wardenparker · 5 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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

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

My Masterlist!

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

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vickysaurus · 10 months

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(Image, as well as much of my information, from Carboniferous Giants and Mass Extinction by George R. McGhee Jr.)

Take a look at this tree. On a scale of 1 to 10, how weird do you think it is?

You quite possibly just gave it a 3 or a 4 or something. Sure, it's a little odd, but does look vaguely normal, right? A friend of mine guessed it was some sort of baobab when I showed him the image.

This is, in fact Lepidodendron, an ancient tree from the Carboniferous, and by modern tree standards it is absolutely bizarre. Its closest surviving relatives, quillworts and clubmosses, only grow to a height of a few centimetres, yet Lepidodendron were giants that shot up to 50 metres tall... Briefly, before dispersing their spores and completely dying off.

(Lycopodium and Spinulum, modern relatives of Lepidodendron, photos by Bernd Haynold and Pete Pattavina)

You see, Lepidondron lived like a gigantic dandelion. For most of its life, it was a stumpy little thing that stuck close to the ground. Just an odd scaly green stump with some long leaves poking out. The green scales its bark consisted of were the place it conducted its photosynthesis, and thus basically did the work of leaves. The Lepidodendron would stay like this for a couple years, slowly expanding its roots and getting ready for the next step. But its roots would grow mostly horizontally, down not so much! And part of why is that even they had the scaly leaf-like photosynthetic bark. That's right, even their roots could - and to some extend needed to - photosynthesise!

(Fossil Lepidodendron bark in the National Museum of Brazil, photo by Dornicke; a fossilised relative of Lepidodendron with some of its roots visible, photo by Michael C. Rygel)

So why would you ever try to photosynthesise with your roots of all things as a plant? Surely it would make much more sense to just transport the sugars created in other parts there than to have your roots be so shallow that bits of them can catch a little light and make it in situ? Sure, if you're capable of that! This is what modern trees do, but they have two separate vascular tissues they use for transport: xylem, which moves water from the roots to the rest of the plant, and phloem, which moves sugars and other photosynthetic products from the leaves to the rest of the plant. Unfortunately for Lepidodendron, it only had xylem, no phloem, so its sugars were only ever going to move as far as they could diffuse, so every part of the tree needed to have at least a little photosynthesis happening, even the roots.

This truly gets ridiculous when the Lepidodendron decides after a few years of charging up that it's time to reproduce. That's when the weird green stump we have so far starts shooting up, up, up, very quickly, all the way until an enormous 40 or 50 metres in height. Now, modern trees grow this large by being supported by a sturdy wooden core, but that's not what Lepidodendron did. To hold up the entire tree, it relies entirely on its outer bark thickening as it grows. In mechanical terms, it was little more than a huge hollow pole, probably creaking and swaying terribly in the wind. Although I have not been able to confirm this in the literature so far, I suspect that between the shallow roots and the whole thing being held up by its bark, you could probably total a Lepidodendron with a good kick.

Now remember, all this growth is happening without phloem, so the entire length of that stem has to not just be sturdy enough to keep the tree standing, but it also has to keep doing photosynthesis to feed itself. When it reaches its full height, the top of the tree finally starts sprouting branches and small leaves, leaving it looking like the picture at the start. But those are not what it's all about for the tree: the cones that develop among them are. At a height of 50 metres, the spores produced by the cones can very easily be picked up by the wind and blown far, far away. Being spores, rather than seeds as modern trees have, they have no supplies built in whatsoever, so they need to get lucky to land in a spot that has immediate access to water. Luckily, there are a lot of those in the vast Carboniferous swamps, and with the trees doing so much work to spread the spores very widely, some of them are sure to find good spots. And then, with the spores dispersed, the tree is done for. The entire thing, which has just grown to the skies, dies off and soon comes crashing down.

So how weird is this tree? I'd call it a perfect 10.

#lepidodendron #lycopodiopsid #plant #carboniferous #palaeoblr #vicky's vritings

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alwaysonthemend · 1 year

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Author's Note: I got a request about 10 million years ago for a fluffy Jake fic where he teaches you how to swim. I loved this prompt so much and I am SO SO SO SO SORRY it took this long. Like it’s embarrassing how long this took. I doubt the wait was worth it at this point but hey at least I actually posted it eventually lol. This has no smut which is very not like me but this Jake was just too sweet for it. I can't write Jake smut without it being filthy. Anyways, all mistakes are my own!

Warnings: Just fluff and cussing. Also Jake is adorable.

Word Count: 3984

-------------------------

“Fuck!”

You snapped your eyes up from your book just in time to see Jake go sailing off Daniel’s shoulders and into the waves, shouting expletives even after he hit the water. You can’t help but to smile as you take in the sight before you – Josh, sitting triumphantly atop Sam’s shoulders, sporting a shit-eating grin, Sam wearing an equally smug smile of his own, and Danny giggling as Jake resurfaces from underneath the waves.

They’ve been playing chicken for what feels like hours – far longer than any grown men should be playing such a game but they’re enjoying themselves so you can’t really fault them. They’ve more than earned some time off with how crazy tour life has been.

“I’m done with this shit.” Jake exclaims, trudging his way up from the water and onto the shore where you’ve been sitting.

“You’re only saying that because you keep losing!!’ Sam calls after him, unceremoniously dumping Josh off his shoulders and into the water before following Jake out as well.

“You fucker.” You hear Josh yell and you giggle at the scowl he shoots in Sam’s direction.

Shaking your head, you close your book and look up to see Jake standing before you in all his glory. You allow yourself to drink in his form – his tanned skin looks almost golden in the afternoon light and the smile he’s giving you is downright radiant. His expression is shy and so very soft as he looks down at you.

“Hi.” You say, smiling back up at him. Your relationship with Jake is still in its early stages – the both of you wildly in love with each other but still figuring out how to express it without feeling hopelessly awkward.

“Hi, angel.” He answers, extending both of his hands towards you.

You grab hold of them and allow him to pull you upwards and into him, and your belly erupts in butterflies as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“You taste like salt.” You say, grinning at him as you pull away.

“I wonder why.”

You nudge his shoulder playfully and pull yourself away from him, turning to look at the other three boys as they make it to your spot.

“I can’t believe we’re at the beach and you haven’t even gotten in the water, Y/n.” Sam says, shaking his head at you as he grabs his towel to dry off. “That’s literally the point of coming to the beach.”

You freeze for a second as you stoop down to grab your book before smoothing over your expression and plastering a smile over your face.

“Maybe I just don’t want to get in the water with you all.” You tell him, turning away as you speak in the hopes that he doesn’t catch the lie. “I’d end up getting hurt with how rough you guys play.”

“Or maybe she has a secret fear of getting wet.” Danny supplies, grabbing his own towel and scrunching up his curls to help dry them.

“That’s why she’s dating Jake.” Josh says through a laugh before shaking his head like a dog and spraying the rest of you with droplets of saltwater.

You turn away from him, trying and failing to protect your book from the water.

“Oops.” He shrugs and gives you a sideways smile – the one he always gives when he knows he’s being a shit.

“Fuck off.” Jake snarks back, shooting Josh the bird and turning to look at you for help.

You laugh lightly, amused despite yourself at Josh’s ability to come up with a joke without missing a beat – and slightly thankful that he’s managed to effectively turn the conversation away from you and your lack of swimming.

“Don’t worry, babe. You get me plenty wet.” You assure your boyfriend, lacing your fingers with his.

Jake’s cheeks flush a bright red and he mumbles out a small, sheepish “thank you.”

“Blech. Gross.” Sam says, breezing past the both of you to walk back towards the beach house that you all had rented.

“Ready?” You ask, turning back to look at Jake.

He nods at you and the rest of you begin to follow Sam back to the house.

Jake falls into step beside you, allowing Josh and Danny to walk in front of the two of you. You walk at a slower pace, falling much farther behind the rest of the group. He’s still holding your hand and the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours makes your heart flutter.

“You know I wouldn’t let any of them hurt you or anything, right?” Jake asks, voice soft and too quiet for the others to hear.

“Huh?”

“In the water, I mean. You said you didn’t want to swim because of how rough we are.” He clarifies, jerking his head back towards the beach. “If you want to swim, I wouldn’t let them bug you or anything. Or we could come back tomorrow without them.”

You’re silent for a moment, wracking your brains to try and come up with a response. Even after being able to officially call him yours for a few months now, his sweetness still manages to take you off guard sometimes. “Thank you, Jake. I know you wouldn’t let anything happen.” You finally settle on, giving him a smile.

“Do you want to, then? We could come back tomorrow and just swim around – just me and you?” He’s looking at you all hopeful, and a sudden flash of guilt slices through you. You know how much he loves being at the beach and there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he would adore swimming with just the two of you.

“Maybe. I was actually thinking of going into town for some shopping tomorrow, though.” You say, praying that your answer doesn’t disappoint him.

“Oh.” He says, the glimmer in his eyes fading a little bit. “Okay. Maybe another time then.”

Fuck.

You open your mouth to invite him to come with you into town instead but you’re interrupted by Sam yelling from the deck of the beach house.

“Would you two hurry the fuck up! I’m hungry!”

“Coming, Samuel. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Jake calls back, extracting his fingers from yours and jogging up the wooden steps onto the deck, leaving you with nothing but an intense feeling of guilt and shame.

Slowly, you trudge your way up the stairs behind him, signing heavily at yourself.

-⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️-

Dinner was proving to be a loud affair – alcohol and good food making the boys even louder than they usually are (which really is saying something). Jake cooked, looking positively gorgeous as he flipped burgers on the grill.

“That smells so fucking good.” Danny practically moaned, taking a seat in one of the patio chairs.

“Course it does, Danny.” Jake grinned at him, face cocky and cheeks flushed from being out in the sun for so long. “I’m the meat man.”

Sam let out a loud cackle, shaking his head into his drink.

“I don’t think that means what you think it means, brother.” Josh tells him, amusement flickering over his face.

Jake furrows his brows in confusion at him before turning to look at you for support.

Grinning, you just shake your head at him.

“Definitely not what you think it means, babe.”

Once the burgers were finished (Jake had begrudgingly grilled a vegan burger for Sam with only a few protests), the five of you all decided to retire – all of the boys exhausted from their earlier antics down at the beach. As you all said your goodnights, you couldn’t help but notice that Jake seemed a lot more reserved than he had before your earlier conversation. You knew him well enough to know that something was off with him. Though he would never say it, his feelings were definitely a little hurt after you’d declined going down to the beach with him. You know that sooner or later you’ll have to either fess up the truth or come up with a more convincing excuse.

Once you make it to your room, you turn to see Jake gathering his things to go and take a shower. Without thinking – afraid of letting him leave with his feelings still hurt, you blurt out his name.

“Yeah?” He says, looking up from his suitcase.

“I-” You purse your lips, frustrated at yourself for saying something before you’d been able to come up with an excuse,

“Is everything okay, angel?”

You just shake your head, anxiety making the back of your neck feel hot.

“If this is about not wanting to go down to the beach tomorrow, it’s okay.” He says simply, shrugging his shoulders and shooting you a sideways smile. “I can find something to do on my own.” He turns his back to you, making his way towards the bedroom door.

“Jake, stop!” You call – louder than you meant to.

Jake turns back to you, confusion evident on his face at your raised voice.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You start, and you can feel your cheeks growing hot as your emotions start to get the better of you. You know it’s silly to be so upset – but you’re torn between hurting Jake’s feelings or revealing something that you never wanted to reveal.

“Y/n,” Jake starts, placing his things on the dresser and crossing the room to stand in front of you. “I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say here. But I promise you it’s okay that you want to do something else.” He assures you, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing lightly.

“I do wanna go!” You insist, clenching your fists in frustration at yourself. “It’s just..”

He raises an eyebrow at you, silently begging you to keep going. Ducking your head to look at your feet rather than at him, you allow your confession to slip past your lips.

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“What?”

You flinch slightly, waves of embarrassment washing over you at the incredulity in his tone.

“You don’t know how to swim?” He says, before giggling softly under his breath.

“It’s not funny.” You say, finally turning up to look at him. You can feel tears threatening to fall and your bottom lip quivers as you fight to hold them back.

“Hey, hey. No.” Jake slides his hands from your shoulders to your waist, holding you softly. “I’m not laughing at you, angel. I’m just laughing because I thought something was really wrong.”

His words do little to soothe your shame and you shake your head and try to pull away from him – but his grip on your waist only tightens.

“Let me go.” You say petulantly, wanting nothing more than to go and sit alone somewhere in your misery.

“No.”

“Jake…” You warn, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “Please let me go.”

“Why?”

“So I can go suffer in peace.”

He chuckles again, sweet and genuine, and you can’t help the smile that wants to grace your lips at the sound.

Jake lets go of your waist but his gaze pins you to the spot for a moment, He’s not looking at you any different than he usually does – only a small bit of amusement lingering on his face.

“You could have told me that a whole lot sooner, ya know?”

You shake your head.

“It’s embarrassing. I mean, who else my age doesn’t know how to swim, Jake?”

“Plenty of people!” Jake says, walking away from you to take a seat on the edge of the bed. He leans backwards, using his arms to brace himself as he leans back. Despite the situation, your eyes still roam his beautiful form – admiring the golden tan of his skin and the way his hair falls across his shoulders.

“Swimming can be intimidating. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You sigh heavily, looking away from him to stare at the wall. You’re not entirely sure what to say and the room lapses into silence for a moment.

“I could teach you.”

Your eyes snap back to him at that, eyeing him warily as he looks at you hopefully.

“What?”

“I could teach you to swim.” He continues, rising from his place to meet you in the middle of the room. “This house has a pool. The rest of the guys are probably asleep. Just you and me.” “I don’t know…” You trail off, biting your lip as your nerves make themselves known. You’ve put off learning to swim for so long that the fear has begun to fester inside of you – becoming much stronger than it used to be.

“I won’t make you if you don’t want to. But the offer’s there. I wouldn’t mind.”

He’s standing in front of you again, hair framing his face and eyes soft. He smells like grill smoke and beach air and you can feel your resolve melting away by the second.

“Okay.” You breathe out, glancing up at him again.

A sweet smile spreads across his face, exposing his perfectly white teeth and making his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“Come on, then!” He exclaims excitedly, grabbing a towel from his back and practically skipping to the bedroom door.

“Now?” You ask, heart beginning to pound at just the thought. You were hoping you’d have a bit more time to mentally prepare.

“The guys are asleep.” He starts kindly, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you out of the bedroom. “It’ll literally just be you and me – no chance of any of them coming out to the pool at this hour.”

You follow him down the stairs, shivering slightly as your bare feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen. Jake pulls open the sliding door for you with a smile, allowing you to step out onto the patio where you all had eaten dinner. The deck wraps around the side of the house and the pool lies in waiting to your right – dark and ominous as the reality of what you’ve agreed to do washes over you.

“Jake…” You start, the dark water in the pool filling you with dread.

“Oh shoot. Hold on.” Jake mutters, before scampering back inside.

You furrow your brows in confusion before the pool is suddenly illuminated, the little lights on the walls coming to life beneath the water.

“Figured doing it in the dark probably isn’t the best place to start.” Jake chuckles, walking back outside to come and stand next to you. He dumps his towel onto the deck before rounding the corner of the pool to the stairs. You watch as he walks down the steps and into the water, hissing slightly as his lower half becomes submerged.

“It’s a little cold.” He says with a sideways smile, fanning his hands out in the water on either side of him. The water on that end doesn’t look too deep, but you can’t help but eye the other end – clearly deeper than the side Jake is in. “Coming?”

You nod, walking slowly over to the steps. You look into the water, clutching both of your hands closely to your chest. You take a step in and immediately the cold makes you want to pull your foot out. But you keep going, wading into the pool to stand next to Jake.

Immediately, both his hands extend in the water to place two solid hands on your waist.

“Hi.” He says with a smile, inclining his head at you slightly. “Not bad so far, right?”

You shake your head slightly.

“This isn’t the scary part.” You remind him, before nodding your head towards the deeper end of the pool.

“Fair enough.” Jake affirms, gripping your hips a little tighter. “Put your hands on my shoulders and just hold on, okay?”

You comply, placing your hands where he told you too. Slowly, Jake leads you both out towards the middle of the pool, only stopping when the water reaches up to your chest.

“Damn.” Jake says with a grin. “Really holding on tight there, angel.”

“Sorry.” You say, realizing how your fingertips had been digging into his shoulders.

Jake giggles softly.

“It’s okay.” He lets go of your waist and brings his hands up to grab your wrists, holding tightly to you as he bobs up and down slightly in the water.

“What now?” You ask, trying to keep your heart rate steady. You glance downwards, eyeing the water warily.

“Keep holding on to my shoulders and I want you to just let your legs relax.” He tells you, adjusting his grip on your wrists. “Just let them float up to the surface.”

You stare at him for a moment, unsure of yourself.

“I’ve got you.” He assures you, smiling softly.

Slowly, you allow your body to untense, relaxing your muscles and letting your body float in the water. Keeping your grip on his shoulders, your legs slowly start to float up towards the surface.

“There ya go.” He grins. “Perfect. Now kick your feet.”

You kick your feet half-heartedly in the water, barely causing a splash.

“Harder.” Jake tells you. “Break the surface as much as you can. Sort of like you’re kicking downwards.”

You kick your legs harder, causing the water to splash upwards and spray the both of you.

“Oops.” You laugh, the sound coming out breathy from your nerves.

Both Jake’s hair and your own is now sopping wet – and you’re distracted for a moment by the sight of him. His hair sticks to the side of his face and neck, and you watch, entranced, as a single drop of water makes its way down his cheek and slides down his plush lips.

“That was perfect.” Jake says with a smile, amusement flashing across his face after catching you staring. “Now you just gotta use your arms.”

Your eyes widen slightly.

“So I’ve gotta let go of you, then?” You ask, trying to joke but there’s no real humor in it.

Jake laughs anyway.

“That would make it easier, yeah. I won’t let you drown. I promise.”

“Thanks, babe.” You say, a hint of sarcasm sneaking into your tone. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because you love me.” He says cheekily.

You roll your eyes in response.

“When you let go, I want you to keep kicking your feet under the water. Think about your arms going up and down, too. Kind of like a bird.”

“Like a bird?” You ask doubtfully, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I mean… kinda. Just move them up and down.”

You grumble at him, but slowly let go of his shoulders. He hovers his hands on your waist, helping to keep you afloat as you try and practice the motion.

“I hate this. This is so stupid.” You mutter, feeling like you’ve never been more out of your element in your life.

“That’s the spirit, babe.”

You scowl.

“I’m gonna let go now and you just keep doing what you're doing.”

“What?” You squeak, snapping your gaze to meet his. “Don’t let go!”

“You’ve got this!” He grins, extracting his grip from your waist.

You flail in the water for a moment, arms and legs flapping and kicking around wildly. Eventually, the panic wears off and you calm your movements down, allowing your limbs to move more fluidly in the water.

“Babe!” Jake grins, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re doing it. That’s called treading.”

You can’t help the proud smile that overtakes your face at his praise and you can feel your cheeks heat slightly.

Jake swims farther away from you – going more towards the deep end.

“Swim towards me.” He commands, treading in place.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“Kick your feet like earlier and tread with your hands. Simple doggy paddle. Right towards me.”

“Absolutely not.” You tell him, perfectly content to keep treading water where you are. “I’d rather not drown, thanks.”

“Y/n,” Jake starts, sounding like a father speaking to his kid. “Do you really think I’m going to let you drown? You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

You sigh at him.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He says kindly. “Now come over here.”

Begrudgingly, you do as he says – kicking your feet aggressively behind you as you paddle with your hands. Slowly but surely, you make your way over to him.

As soon as you get close, Jake darts his hands out and grabs your shoulders – helping you to float next to him.

“See?” He asks with a grin, eyes sparkling in the dim light, “Not so bad.”

“I still don’t like this.” You mutter, mind half focused still on trying to tread the water next to him.

Slowly, Jake lets go of your shoulders and the two of you just float in the middle of the pool for a moment.

“You’ll get better at it.” He assures.

Just then, you hear a car horn honk in the distance, drawing your attention away from Jake and towards where the sound came from. Seeing nothing, you look back towards your boyfriend only to be met with a face full of chlorine as he splashes you.

“Jake!” You sputter, blinking your eyes to try and clear the water from them. “You fuck head!”

“Oops.” He giggles – the sound so reminiscent of Josh it’s almost like his twin just came down and possessed him for a moment. Sometimes you forget that they’re twins until you’re so starkly reminded.

“What?”

Your bewilderment must have shown on your face.

“Nothing.” You smile at him. “You just sounded exactly like Josh when you did that.”

“Ugh.” He groans, rolling his eyes and swimming away from you slightly. “Don’t tell me I remind you of that loser.”

“Jake, you’re twins. You two are so simila-” You’re cut off once again by a face full of water.

“Those are fighting words, Y/n!” Jake says through a laugh, swimming farther into the pool.

“Come back here, you ass!” You paddle your way towards him, muscles straining to try and keep up with him.

“No!” He giggles, stopping for a moment to splash you again.

This time, you see it coming and splash him first, causing him to sputter and cough as the water fills his mouth.

The two of you descend into laughter as Jake swims away from you again, using his legs to kick water at you. You give chase, splashing him as well as you pursue him.

Eventually too winded to continue, you give up your chase of him and just tread the water again, laughing breathlessly. Jake swims back over to you, his own laughter sounding like music to your ears.

“Does this mean I win?” He asks you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. All you taste is chlorine, but the warmth of his lips pressing to yours fills you with butterflies.

“Nah. Just taking a break for a second.”

Jake’s eyes are pinned to yours, a strange expression spreading over his face. It’s sweet and loving… but there’s something else there too. Pride?

“What?”

He shakes his head at you.

“You learned how to swim.”

“Oh.” You say on an exhale, glancing around to realize that the two of you have come to a stop in the deep end of the pool – the very place that you’d been so afraid of not an hour before. “I guess I did.”

“I’m the best fucking teacher ever.” He says, grinning proudly at you and puffing out his chest.

You roll your eyes but you can’t really argue. You are swimming, all thanks to him and his willingness to be patient and to distract you from your nerves. You realize now that the whole water fight had just been to get you out of your head – something that he’s always been remarkably good at.

“Thank you, Jake.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

----------

If you're reading this, I love you! 💞

Taglist:

@ignite-my-fire

@demolitionndann

@brujamagik

@mybussyinchrist

@writingcold

@way-to-go-lad

@sinsofstardust

@jjwasneverhere

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

@wildbluesorbit

@twistedmelodies

@neverwanttofallasleep

Let me know if you'd like to be added to/removed from my taglist!

#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fluff

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dancingtotuyo · 1 year

Text

Ivy (Joel Miller X Reader One shot)

Preface: @morning-star-joy made this mood board for me (on main) from a fun pintrest game and I just had to write something (Not sure I got the Cowboy- August & Getaway Car theme or not lol). I wrote this very quickly, not proofread lol.

Summary: Joel helps you escape

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Illusions to abuse (physical & sexual) & grooming, over all references to trauma and cannon typical violence & themes.

words: 1558

Author Master List

Songs I listened to while writing

The first time Joel Miller comes across your farm, he has to talk your husband out of shooting him on sight. You know about the Jackson settlement about 10 miles south of you. You’ve begged him to move you there within the safe confines of the towering walls. You’ve seen the lights on one of the more extended hunting expeditions. Elliot refuses to leave you at the cabin alone for more than a couple of hours. You’ve tried to run before. You weren’t able to move for days after he caught you. He’d been on horseback, catching you quickly.

Joel trades his rifle and ammo for his life, eyes never leaving yours. Can he read the sadness in them? The horrors this world has inflicted on you over and over?

You wear a dress. It’s tattered around the hem. Not something very practical. You look more like a captive than a wife. Joel thinks you must be in your late 40’s, but you’re actually 39. Elliot looks to be about 20 years your senior. Joel tells himself he’ll get you out because it’s the right thing to do. He ignores the tug of desire he feels when he looks into your eyes.

He invites the two of you to Jackson.

Elliot refuses. He doesn’t trust the Jackson settlement.

Joel warns of a colony of infected trickling in. He watches the fear flash in your eyes, survival instincts kicking in as you look at your husband.

Elliot says he can handle them.

Joel speaks of electricity, heat in the winter, fans in the summer, and running water. A hot shower sounds delicious. You were 19 when the world ended. You can’t remember the last time you felt the hot water trail down your back.

Only after Elliot chases Joel off does he realize you never uttered a word.

The second time Joel comes bearing fresh vegetables and more ammo. Your mouth waters at the sight of red tomatoes. He ignores Elliot’s threats and hands the produce straight to you with a glowing smile.

You thank him. You take a bite from one of the tomatoes like it’s an apple. It’s warm in your mouth. The acidic tang is like a summer’s night on your taste buds. The insides dribble down your chin, making you laugh.

It takes Joel’s breath away. There’s a childlike joy to it, a spring bubbling up from the depths of the mountain in the springtime. He catches a flash of life return to your eyes if only for a moment. He knows it’s been a long time since any semblance of happiness graced your features.

Joel fights the urge to wipe the juice from your chin.

“You’ll stay for dinner.” It’s an order, not a request, and the first words he’s heard you utter.

Elliot protests, but you cut him off. “He’s staying for dinner.”

You know you’ll probably pay for it later, but you don’t care. You haven’t seen another face in years. It’ll be worth the conversation at the very least.

Elliot is out hunting a week later. You’re hanging the laundry on the line when Joel emerges from the woods. He’s on foot this time, different from his previous visits on horseback. It must’ve taken him hours to get here on foot.

“Howdy,” He smiles.

You raise an eyebrow. “My husband isn’t here.”

“Didn’t come to see him.”

You stop. He rests a hand on his hip looking across the small clearing that houses the barn and small farmhouse. “You’re too exposed out here.”

“Joel-.”

“I like the way you say my name.”

Your heart stops. Your palms sweat. You’re not blind. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, smiles at you. You remember the soft brush of his hand on your back in the kitchen during his last visit. You remember it too often for a single moment in time with a man you hardly know.

You square your shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.”

He cups your cheek. You flinch away out of habit. Anger flares in his eyes. You’re used to seeing it in Elliots, but somehow you know that for once, it’s not directed at you.

Somehow you know what he’s going to say before he says it. “I’m going to kill him.”

“You can’t.” The words leave your mouth before he’s finished.

He looks surprised. “He hurts you. Tell me I’m wrong.”

You can’t. You both know that, but how do you explain to Joel that he can’t kill your abuser- your captor- your one last connection to life before Cordyceps?

“You’re not wrong.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “But you can’t kill him.”

Joel knows better than to ask, but if he did, you would tell him. You would tell him that Elliot had been around your entire life. He’s your father’s best friend from college. He saved you on outbreak night. He wasn’t always like this. You loved him once, or at least you thought you did. You wonder how much of it was manipulation now. He was nice and kind in the beginning. He didn’t touch you until well after your 22nd birthday. The two of you settled on this farm years ago with a horse, a few cows, and a couple of chickens. Elliot loved the seclusion. He wanted a family. The longer you went without one, the meaner he got, but you think regardless, he’d have turned into the person he is now. You could see the signs in hindsight.

One day, you would tell Joel about it all, but not today.

“I’m taking you to Jackson. This place isn’t safe. He isn’t safe.”

You want to go. You wanted to go long before his demand. “Not on foot. He’ll catch up. He’s got the horse.”

When Joel grabs your hand, you hold onto it tighter. He pulls you down the soft slope of the hill to the old barn. His hand is rough and calloused, but you can’t help but feel like it’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt. The breeze plays in your long hair. Joel’s free hand glides along the warped barn until he finds a deep notch.

“Check here every night after dark. I’ll leave a note for you when I come for you with directions on where to meet me.”

He cups both of your cheeks. “Every night, you understand?”

You nod.

For a minute you think he might kiss you. You’ve thought about that too as you lay in bed awake and listless for hours on end.

He drops his hands. “Show me where.”

You quickly find the notch. It’s deeper than you thought. Your fingers brush up against a piece of paper. You furrow your brow looking up at Joel as you fish it out between two fingers.

“Good girl.” He smiles.

It’s only four words, but it’s all you need. Every night. I promise.

“I promise.” He repeats to you. You don’t doubt him for a minute.

You wish you could let him kill Elliot. It would make things easier. You could go with him now and not worry about anything else. Would he kiss you now? Or wait until you’re safely within the confines of the Jackson walls.

“Every night.” You tell him.

He kisses your forehead before he leaves. It gets you through the next two weeks.

You make sure Elliot is asleep just as you have every night since Joel’s last visit, but something feels different tonight. You can feel it in your bones. You take a small bag with you, lantern lighting your way to the back of the barn. An owl hoots in the woods, and the crickets sing with the dying heat of summer. The nip of autumn is already in the air.

You ease your hand into the notch. You panic when you don’t feel the note immediately. You got it wrong. You’ll have to live through this another night- and then you feel it. Your heart leaps. You can hardly comprehend the note. It takes you three times through before you finally do. You know exactly where he is.

You abandon all caution and run for it. You can be there in under 10 minutes. Your hair flies behind you. The underbrush of the woods crunches under your boots. You catch your dress on a couple of brambles, one scratches your cheek, but you don’t feel it. You don’t feel anything but freedom surging through you.

You catch sight of Joel in the small clearing. The full moon illuminates his figure. You recognize it, already committing to your memory. Joel spins around, rifle ready until realizes it’s you running toward him. He barely sets it down before you’re in his arms.

You’re strong around you. They feel like safety and promise. He chuckles. “Glad you made it, Sweetheart.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. It’s not funny, and you should be more cautious, but you simply do not care. You’re free. You’re so close to a hot shower and fresh tomatoes and you’re in Joel Miller’s strong arms.

Before he can say anything more, you press your lips to his. They’re warm, slightly chapped, and eager against yours. You never want to stop, but Joel eventually pulls back, panting. He tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Let’s go home, Sweetheart.”

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #Ivy (Joel’s Version)

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 13 days

Text

tuesday again 9/10/2024

someone adopt this little orange man from me in Houston TX! more details here!

listening

the 1991 Ella Mae Morse compilation Capitol Collectors Series is the official driving-cats-to-the-vet album bc it is so mellow but still fun. this album has previously been featured several times in tuesdayposts but i think you should all listen to it again.

youtube

seven thousand three hundred days IS a long long time to sleep ur so right ella

reading

two different works that annoyed me: Emily Hamilton's The Stars Too Fondly. my first clue should have been that this is my least favorite poem, bc ppl would quote it to me smugly after my mom died. im sure they thought they were being so super comforting to a budding astronomer, but, much like how i can no longer eat lasagna bc ppl gave us Twenty! Party! Size! Platters! Of! Lasagna! after my mom died (they would just Appear on our front porch, frozen), too much of this poem really soured me.

i had this book on hold Forever and then delayed delivery twice bc i have not felt like reading lately. here's the publisher's description:

In her breathtaking debut—part space odyssey, part sapphic rom-com—Emily Hamilton weaves a suspenseful, charming, and irresistibly joyous tale of fierce friendship, improbable love, and wonder as vast as the universe itself. So, here’s the thing: Cleo and her friends really, truly didn’t mean to steal this spaceship. They just wanted to know why, twenty years ago, the entire Providence crew vanished without a trace. But then the stupid dark matter engine started all on its own, and now these four twenty-somethings are en route to Proxima Centauri, unable to turn around, and being harangued by a snarky hologram that has the face and attitude of the ship’s missing captain, Billie. Cleo has dreamt of being an astronaut all her life, and Earth is kind of a lost cause at this point, so this should be one of those blessings in disguise that people talk about. But as the ship gets deeper into space, the laws of physics start twisting, old mysteries come crawling back to life, and Cleo’s initially combative relationship with Billie turns into something deeper and more desperate than either woman was prepared for. Lying somewhere in the subspace between science fantasy and sapphic rom-com, The Stars Too Fondly is a soaring near-future adventure about dark matter and alternate dimensions, leaving home and finding family, and the galaxy-saving power of letting yourself love and be loved.

should be catnip for me, right? wrong. starts out as a chat fic, which i hate.

i had a lot of trouble finishing the first chapter, which also has an extended third-person omniscient narrator flashback in italics, a thing i also hate. i KNOW you can figure out how to integrate this information into the book in a better way instead of dumping it in my lap.

i think part of why this is not hitting like i wanted is the tone, because i think this veers more new adult than i was really hoping for. i think introducing a big group all at once is very hard to do effectively. i do not like a series of character introductions that feel like they are trying to sell me action figures. or perhaps blind-bag figures. i do not like a six-deep list of cheesy puns about someone's name. i do not have the patience to see if this debut novel finds its footing a little later on, though i am glad a sapphic ghost in the machine romance exists in this world.

i also read dean motter's mister x (both the original late eighties through early nineties run and the 2008 follow-on).

let's yoink the description from wikipedia:

Set in Radiant City, a dystopian municipality influenced by Bauhaus and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, the series concerns a mysterious figure who purports to be its architect. His radical theories of "psychetecture" cause the citizenry to go mad, just as he did, and he takes on the mission to repair his creation. To accomplish this he remains awake twenty-four hours a day by means of the drug "insomnalin", all the while coping with a Dick Tracy–like rogues gallery and supporting cast including his long-suffering ex-girlfriend Mercedes. (ed note: the redhead in the santa beard below)

the art in this comic book is really and truly stunning. everyone was firing on all cylinders. beautiful retrofuturistic advertisement vibes, very fun play with panels and word balloons while still being readable, there are airships, you know how it is. looooooooove a hardboiled noir.

the Concept of mister x, this horrible awful futuristic city that grinds its citizenry up and spits them out? both figuratively and sometimes literally? love it!!! love a great wounded beast of a city as a character!!!

unforch the "who is mister x" subplot does not resolve in a satisfying way, imo. there's a lot of flip-flopping, there's a lot of options, he ends up being (maybe?) someone he was very definitively proven NOT to be in an earlier issue, and it really soured me on the whole experience. and also i don't believe it! that specific person makes no fucking sense! who mister x is, is by far the least interesting part of the series. tell me more about how he's fixing the city. show me more of the city. shut up and dance, robot artists

watching

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, dir. Singer). this movie did not need to be two and a half hours long. appreciated the EXTREMELY divorced energy from charles & erik though, quicksilver rescuing the school scene was also very fun. my bestie's husband has informed me we are NOT watching Dark Phoenix, i'm not sure if we're going to loop back and watch the ??? number of wolverine films or if we're going to see how i feel about deadpool. bc i find this character insufferable through clips only.

playing

there is a feature in the video game genshin impact to turn your World Level (TM) down in order to make overworld enemies a little easier. i am at seven out of nine bc i genuinely can't finish the boss to unlock world level 9, and i am finding some of the overworld enemies too hard at 8 and want to finish the achievements in a more relaxed fashion.

making

this is going to be a lot of previously posted pics so bear with me.

saturday morning/saturday evening. plants? repotted. porch and stairs? swept. old wasp nests? knocked down. different mirror on the porch to go out to the curb when i have the energy? yes. also a giant slab of engineered stone from the top of a dresser but that's out of frame.

speaking of the giant broken dresser that was in my apartment when i moved in just over a year ago, i ripped it apart with a crowbar and threw it in the dumpster. put my pretty zebrawood desk in the empty space and started thinking about what to hang on that wall. the wall across from it is maps, bc i think a cozy office should have lots of maps and it makes a good video conference background. maybe this will be the dedicated cowboy nonsense wall. i did so much dusting and vacuuming and mopping and the girls can't even hang out in here bc the orange boy is in the office bathroom. big sigh.

also a lot of driving around and emailing and calling thirty shelters and rescues figuring out how to get this orange man a home. please take this orange man off my hands.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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im-bored-so-i-draw · 6 months

Text

Burst of inspiration :DDD

I have this concept of silverfish!silverr for such a long time and this is me trying to write the idea down

My drawing pad(?) broke and its been so long since i tried watercolor so the colors are not right in here..

Ref part 1|part 2

WARNING: i ramble below about this idea but my English is bad (and its long)

So first of all i just want to point out that I made him TOO buff. Just saying.

So you know these guys right (This is what my whole reference page is 😭).

'They are fast and they are named SILVERfish so why not base silverr from this?' Is my thought process. He is fast and silver(fish)rruns is not safe from my designing-everything-in-sight-manias ass.

(Thorax: legs)

We start off from the horns. The horns/antenna is a solidified shell around his antenna, slowly covering the whole part in an extremely slow process. The antenna part that is still exposed is working normally to help silverr see. Since you know. He's blind.

Now his back/legs. Well. Legs. Why is it on the shell? Ok now every silverfish spawned is just like that. I have no defense but it looks cool.

2 upper thorax has 4 joints and is bigger than the lower thorax. This made these legs move more freely and faster. But the drawback is that they are heavy.

The lower thorax is a lot lighter and shorter. These two legs are mainly a support for the upper thorax. These thorax also only have 3 joints.

His arms are actually his legs but got mutated(? Modified?) You can actually see the joints visible (some joints are dead so he can't use them). It also has the same hard shell with the horns/antenna at the top.

His legs are also a mutated form of thorax. With some hard shells covering most of his lower leg. The lil hairies is in every part of his body but most visible in the lower legs!

About his tail? Its not actually a tail but a decoration from his cape. (Page 2) he does have a tail but it doesn't get carried to his human form.

Now about the whole deal with him.

Silverfish usually don't live too long, mostly being 8 years or so. Silverr, who is no different, have a different approach for this topic. Instead of growing old, he started to collect this magic orb/pearl from dragons, willingly or not. This magic pearls contains a fraction of dragons power and magic. But having just 1 of these only extends his life for 1 month. One dragon can produce 1-21 pearls, depending on many reasons. Mainly of how powerful the dragon is, technique to absorb it, and how long the dragon lived. The ability to absorb some of the dragon's power and turn it into an object is only possessed by some mobs, and silverfish is one of them.

Most silverfish have 2-10 pearls, scavenging anything remains from a dead dragon. They are not capable of fighting the dragon so they usually wait for a player to slay it.

Silverr is quite lucky to spawn on a completed portal and a freshly slain dragon (more likely by a speedrunner too!). He managed to restore all 23 pearls from the dragon.

Dragon orbs not only can extend their life, but they can use that magic to do... Magic and spells? With this power, they can also change into a human. Well lets say silverr starts running.

Silverr goal is not only to live longer, but he is planning to become a dragon. Why? Immortal. At least until someone kills him. A dragon can live forever as long as there are no one slashing his neck. Also power. Also cool i guess. (Draft)

That's why he went from worlds through worlds to kill their dragon. A part of this dragonification is the growing of hard shells all across his body. When all of his antennas get hard shells around them, he finally counts as a dragon.

Clearly there are a lot i havent write down, but im too sleepy for it.

#silverrruns #im not really drawing these past weeks so its a surprise i made these #mcsr #mcsr fanart #what do you call these kind of posts #sketchbook #?#idk man #rambles #sketch #ok bye <3 #i literally learn how to anatomy part 3371 just hecause of this piece

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sillysillygoofygoose · 1 year

Text

Musician Dilf Miguel O'hara x Reader HCs

MDNI!! (Large age gape, thinking of making a nsfw part two!!) I have not been able to get this out of my head 😩 I have so much to say, so let's begin! He's very soft in this one <3

Musician Dilf Miguel, who started his career MUCH later than others in the industry. After years of sorting out a very messy divorce, he realized that even though he's just broken the barrier between 39 and 40, he has too much life left to live it unhappily. He began writing songs, poems, and relearning the guitar.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who got a small gig on Friday nights, singing at a cafe you work at. You can't help but become entranced by the older man, distracted every Friday while attempting to pay off at least a bit of your student debt.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who despite his strong build and serious demeanor, sings melancholic and slow songs. He strums away at a mahogany acoustic guitar, his voice singing softly into the shoddy microphone, smooth like honey. His cheeks are flushed slightly from the strong heating in the small perimeters of the cafe. He pours out his most painful and private emotions, thick fingers creating a delicate melody under his meaningful lyrics.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who begins keeping you company every week while you close up the shop. You caught his eye just as quickly as he caught yours. Sometimes, it feels like he's singing to you. He can't help it, once his eyes meet yours, he just can't break it. The two of you quickly click, making conversation as you wipe down the counters. Miguel always insists on helping, and you always insist on saying no.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who you started seeing romantically a couple of months after his first gig. He's never met someone that makes him feel the way you do (not even his ex-wife 😬). One Tuesday evening, just before closing, you hear a small bell as the door opens. You huff, rolling your eyes at the person who ignored the CLOSED sign displayed in the window, "I'm sorry, we're 10 minutes from closing-" As you turn to look at the unwanted customer, your eyes quickly light up as you see an almost shy Miguel, hiding half of his blushing face with a huge bouquet of deep red flowers, his prominent cheeks matching the tint. You walk over to him, wiping your busy hands on the apron tied around your hips. "What's all this for?" You ask as he extends his strong arms pushing the flowers to your chest. "Dinner?" Was the only thing he could mutter out. It's hard to believe this is the same man who pours his heart out on stage.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who you encouraged to quit his dead-end office job after being offered a contract. He spent months hopping around different bars and cafes taking advantage of open mic nights. He's not the type to take risks though. The thought of a music career flopping after quitting his steady job made him sick to his stomach. You were the one to push him to follow his dreams. "Do what you think will make your heart happy. I'll be here no matter what happens."

No one has ever said that to him before.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who quickly BLOWS UP. He released his debut album after signing with a label, unsure if it was the right move. However, his doubts were soon soothed after he grew a massive fan base. You tease him after his debut album sold a whopping 3 million copies, telling him you knew he could do it.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who can't stand anything that has to do with publicity, but damn is he good at it. Advertisements, photoshoots, interviews, you name it, he's incredible. Miguel is as charming as ever in interviews, making viewers at home swoon and rush to stream his latest song. Although he hates to admit it, he was born for this.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who writes most of his songs about you. Despite the millions of fan-girls, or the pretty celebrities he's surrounded by at events, the only girl he has eyes for is you. A love song he wrote for your 1 year anniversary became one of his most popular, charting almost immediately. Comments ranged from melody lovers, to desperate, feral fan-girls.

"I need the tabs for the guitar part at 2:37"

"Use the like button as here before 50 million"

"Find yourself a man like this 🥺"

"I'm 68 years old this year. Haven't heard music like this in a long time. He must really love that girl... reminds me of my late wife 👍"

"He's such a dilf 😩😩I need this man RELIGIOUSLY. I want to wear his skin."

It's safe to say he's quite popular.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who loves to show you off, slinging his arm around your shoulder when he spots a paparazzi. You're favorite new pass time is looking at news articles, laughing at the ridiculous nature of them all.

"Who is y/n l/n? Everything we know about Miguel O'hara's girlfriend."

"Fourty three and twenty five: The hottest celebrity age gaps"

"New it-girl alert! Y/N L/N, Miguel O'hara's girlfriend shows off stylish new nail trend in latest Instagram post."

"Y/N L/N shows off legs in new poolside pics... Click here to see photos!"

"Watch: Miguel O'hara gushes over girlfriend in latest interview, 'She's my muse'."

"Since the beginning: The unlikely and adorable love story of Miguel O'hara and Y/N L/N"

The press loves your relationship (for the most part). Sometimes, the attention is overwhelming, but it's almost always entertaining. Miguel constantly reassures you that if anything upsets you, he can easily take care of it.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who loves when you attend his concerts, eyes searching for yours in the sea of devoted fans. He has to actively stop himself from staring at you throughout the entirety of the show.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who tightly holds your hand as the winner of Album of the Year is about to be announced. He couldn't even focus on his nerves for half the night, too busy thinking about how beautiful you looked in your custom Chanel dress, but now it's all sinking in.

"And the Grammy goes to... 'Un Amor Más Fuerte Que Los Diamantes', Miguel O'hara!"

As applause explodes throughout the room, it's muffled out by the pure adrenaline coursing through you veins. The two of you jump out of your chairs and immediately, Miguel's arms are wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight. You hold him, quickly kissing him, before ushering him to get up on stage. His usual stoic expression is broken as he smiles bigger than ever. Miguel looks at you while making his speech, thanking you for believing in him and telling you that he loves you more than anything.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who took you engagement ring shopping the very next day.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

#miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #size difference #age difference #miguel headcanons #dilf miguel

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rocksibblingsau · 24 days

Note

I'm very much a multishipper, but for Classical Branch I always leaned more for Classical Broppy or Bremo. But last night, I was randomly hit over the head with a really cute but dumb idea for Branch and Dante. So...

Imagine on the earliest of early days of Branch living in Symphonyville, a 10 year old Dante that had only know Branch for like 15 minutes thinks he isz in fact, the most enthralling and fascinating troll he has ever meet. His bluntness is chocking yet refreshing, his ways are strange yet charming, his appearance is dull yet oddly special and uniquely his, etc etc. So, in all his childish confidence and bravado, he asks Branch to be his betrothed and Branch having -1 ideas of what that even means, accepts it hoping that it means Dante will finally stop staring at him a really small and innocent-looking hawk.

Once some time has passed and Dante gets hired to be Branch's manners teacher, he realizes that "oh shit Branch absolutely DIDN'T know what he was being asked" so out of pure embarrassment and fear of possible social disgrace for "tricking" the surrogate son of the Lead Composer for his hand in marriage, he decides to just sweep that interaction under the rug and hope that by the time Branch's learns what betrothal means, he would had completely forgotten about his question. And he did.

Until 20 years later, in which he randomly thought about his firsts days in Symphonyville while doing his morning rituals and he slowly goes over his first interaction with Dante "wait... wait a minute. BY THE MUSES' BONES, HOLY SH*T". For a moment he thinks about just doing it like Dante and continue to ignore their "betrothal" for the foreseeable future, but than he realizes he is kinda very much not opposed to marrying his beloved life-long friend technically fiance... But he also wants to get a little revenge for Dante never bringing up this very huge deal and trying to sweep it under the rug for the rest of their lives likely.

And that leads to Branch very publically starting "his and his beloved Dante" wedding preparations, renting the biggest Ball room, visiting the most prestigious and well-know wedding tailors and even doing some long-retired royal wedding preparation traditions, just for the shits and giggles, as they say. Dante obviously comes to confront Branch some time later, since he just woke up one day very drowning in congratulations letters from all his extended family and friends being very confused and the bastard just responds with something along the line of:

"Well my beloved Dante, I'm so very sorry for making the preconception that after 20 long years of betrothal you would have been pleased to finally be united in the eyes of the law, you were the one to ask for my hand in marriage after all. But worry not, we can still delay the ceremony for a quite few moons if that's more aligned with your wishes."

Dante is... quite shocked to say the least, but doesn't actually wish to delay their surprise wedding, what 20 years of embarrassed-fuelled pining doesn't do to a man after all. He only hopes that nobody notices how he shrinks in his chair everytime Branch tells their romantic tale of "love at first sight and their innocent but unbroken promise to one day be married when they were just small children".

I read this like three times before publishing because I love it so much.

Tiny Dante's joy at being betrothed to Branch, only for the horror/embarrassment/disappointment to learn Branch has no clue what that even is.

Forte being upset Dante never told him he was betrothed and Dante having to be like "My most darling brother, I must tell you a story, but you musn't laugh."

He laughs hysterically.

#sibblings qna #classical branch au #trolls branch #dante crescendo #Brante

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elementaskylos345 · 4 months

Text

Hhhh Alejandro brainrot so it's time for some angsty Burromuerto home life headcanons

!! Tw for abuse !!

In my head, Mr. Burromuerto is pretty similar to Butterscotch from Bojack Horseman

He's less openly sexist but he's just as bitter, angry, and willing to bully his children

Mrs. Burromuerto is nowhere near as bad as Beatrice but she was complacent in the treatment of her children

She wasn't always but around when Al was 10 she just got so tired of fighting with her husband that she just stopped fighting for her kids

She still has high expectations for her kids but she's less aggressive about it and more passive. Still harmful but she's trying to be fair to her kids

And, of course, they refuse to get a divorce

Alejandro was basically doomed from the beginning. Impossible expectations, his parents falling out of love, and a very competitive environment

No matter what he did it was never enough, especially to his father. Straight As, perfect health, and a blossoming social life were expected and anything less was a shame

This also extended to José but to a lesser extent as the expectations for him were more realistic (and he mostly met these expectations)

José DOES genuinely love and care about Alejandro he just - he's never seen a healthy relationship so he can't express his care properly. And with the competitive environment the parents of the year fostered did not help at all

Carlos had it the easiest. Somewhat realistic expectations and parents that genuinely loved each other. Course, he had to watch his parents get angrier and more distant and witness his little brothers bear the brunt of it

Carlos wasn't entirely innocent either, as he did just dip without extending help to his brothers. He regrets this. Like, a LOT.

The pressure from his father (unsurprisingly) led to Al developing anxiety and depression that began to worsen, leading up to him signing up for total drama. His grades were beginning to slip (getting a C every now and then) and his dad was NOT happy

He did not talk about his family life with the other contestants, but he was so fucking confused when they talked about their home lives. To him, the competition, constant stress, and the need to be no less than perfect were just so normal to him.

So, yeah, this family has not known love for at least 10 years at the minimum and only Carlos knows this isn't normal

This has been my insane 2 am Burromuerto family ramblings, g'day

#headcannons #angst #tw abuse #td alejandro #td josé #td carlos #total drama #this family is barely functional

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silens-oro · 2 years

Text

Eye for an Eye

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

Synopsis: Aemond has done the unthinkable and must deal with the consequences brought onto his family.

No "y/n" mentioned

Word Count: 3,203

Warning: Darkfic. Targaryen brother/sister incestuous marriage, pregnancy, foeticide, murder.

AN: This is my first attempt to write anything in months, as well as my first post in the GOT/HOTD fandom. Please be kind. House of the Dragon requests are OPEN

The sound of the door latching shut knocked you out of your thoughts. The flames before you crackled, embers breaking as if to signify the future of your great House. Your eyes glanced to the man, your darling brother husband, as he stood but a few steps in front of the door. His usual pridefulness was not present as his eye was cast to look at anything but you.

“For a man who takes pride in his volition,” You started, not bothering to give him your attention, “How well read he is, how well traveled he is, how cunning and calculated he is, how deserving he is of the Iron Throne because of those qualities that his King brother does not possess…you’ve done the stupidest thing you could’ve possibly done, Aemond, and you have damned us all in the process,” The words spat from your lips, the golden flames of the fireplace danced upon your skin, icy hair glowing in the darkness. Your eyes gleamed with dragon fire, Aemond noted, and they directed themselves unwaveringly at him.

“Not the homecoming I was anticipating from my beautiful wife,” He began, advancing towards you. You were known, out of all the children sired from Viserys, as the clearest thinker -the most put together of his children. The most level-headed.

The problem solver.

You were the child who could see the big picture, that the Targaryen legacy was much bigger than you, your siblings, or your father. Duty, as you made sure to remind your siblings, came above all else in order to extend the Targaryen rule for the next thousand years.

Viserys typically treated his children with Alicent as if they weren’t there, with the exception of you. You came into his life just as Rhaenyra was leaving it and he immediately latched on. Though Rhaenyra was always put on a pedestal above you and the rest of your siblings, you were not far below her in the standings.

Knowing all of these qualities that you possessed, Aemond could see the Targaryen Madness leaking through your carefully constructed walls, and it was all his doing.

“You dare make a jest after what you’ve done!” Your voice cut him off, finger pointed dangerously at him. Fire could’ve blazed through your mouth and he wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised. Your fury was a rarity, and while he deserved every bit of the tongue lashing he was sure to get, it cut deeper coming from you. “You’ve been gone a fortnight, and in that time you have put the final crack into what would cause this family’s collapse.”

For the entirety of his life Aemond looked to you for guidance. When Rhaenyra’s bastards, as well as Aegon, taunted the dragon-less boy of 10 with a costumed pig, it was you whom he ran to. When he tamed Vhagar, you were the first he tried to seek out in hopes of impressing you. Aemond had imagined, boyishly daydreamed, that you would ride your Aerraxys side by side with him at the helm of Vhagar.

You were the first to run to him after Luke viciously took his eye. It was you who sat by his side as he healed, nurturing him back to health. You had his first patch crafted so that he may step out into the world with confidence once his wound had healed enough. You had instilled his sense of worth after that night wherein he may have lost his eye, but he gained the largest -most feared- dragon in the realm. Most would give much more for what he had.

It was you who held him in your tiny arms at four summers as he gained his first breaths into the world. You who cared for him, protected him, shaped him into the man that stood before you and he could never repay that debt.

It took a moment for you to stand from your chair, hand braced against your ever growing belly as you tried to steady your balance. Aemond was quick to guide you with a hand planted on your lower back for support, but you brushed his hand off in irritation.

Never had you brushed off his affections.

“Do not think -for a single moment- that what you’ve done-” You stopped yourself short, your stomach turning at the words that tried to escape. Taking a deep breath, you centered yourself. “I do not fault you for the malice you hold towards Luke. If I could’ve plucked both of his beady eyes from his bastard skull at that very moment, I would have. I would take every eye in the city if it pleased you, but you’ve gone too far.”

“My own father never sought justice for what he did to me. My eye-”

“-Is gone!” Aemond could’ve sworn the walls shook with your fury. “It is gone, dear brother. Ten years gone and it will not return. I am sorry, truly, deeply for the pain, suffering, and mistreatment that cretin and his brother have caused you, but this was not the way to enact your vengeance. Not when everything we have worked so hard for -what mother has worked so hard for- hangs precariously in the balance. You let your anger cloud your judgement, Aemond, and it will be to our detriment.” A moment of silence encased the room before Aemond spoke.

“I cannot change what has transpired. What's done is done, but I confess to you -as I stand before you- that even in my rage what happened was not my intention -his death. I need you to believe these words. I have never once given you cause for suspicion of falsehood,” He begged, hands cupping your face. Grasping his chin not so kindly, you kept him in your heated gaze. “I meant to scare the little prick," He continued, "but Vhagar saw to a different justice,”

“Your intention matters not! Rheanyra’s son is dead, Aemond! By proxy of your hand he is dead!” You shouted, roughly letting his face go. He took deep breaths to calm himself. As much as he wanted to scream and fight back, he knew the point was moot. “You have catapulted us headfirst into a war that most will not see the end of! Legitimacy be damned, you‘ve killed a prince! Our nephew! She will stop at nothing, Aemond, until we are all but ash in the wind. Rhaenyra would’ve bent the knee eventually. She had little support, and now…” Aemond hadn’t moved an inch, the true reality of the situation starting to set in. This was not something that could be fixed by the wave of a King’s hand. This action would have an opposite and equal reaction. He just didn’t know what would be lost along the way. “This will be her rallying cry.”

Both Aegon and Aemond looked to you, their eldest sister, for guidance their entire lives. Though they rarely admitted it, your words were held in regard nearly as high -if not higher- than your Queen mother’s. Both your mother and father used it to their advantage. Helaena -your dear, sweet sister- was also kept under your close watch, shielded from as many discomforts as you possibly could manage. You protected your family with everything you had, and it seems that it would be all for naught.

Aemond watched as you walked to the window, pouring yourself a glass of water from the pitcher that sat on the sill. He followed your movements as you paced the bedroom slowly.

As the first-born to Viserys and Alicent, there were expectations set upon you, and some you had shifted into. Marrying your youngest brother, four years your junior, was not an expectation, but given the pool of candidates, it made the most sense in your eyes.

At the time of the betrothal, Aemond was one and ten years, while you were five and ten with many prospects trying to win the hand of the King’s daughter. Aegon was furious at the time of the announcement as he felt that because he was the first born son, it was his birthright to marry you if he saw fit. One sentence from you was all it took for Aegon to tuck tail.

“If we were to wed, dear Aegon, you’d be smothered in your sleep at the first chance.”

While you loved your eldest brother dearly, Aegon’s temperaments, as well as his lack of care when it came to his royal duties -whether he wanted to do them or not- was what kept you from considering him. As he grew older and his tastes developed, you were more than confident that your choice to marry Aemond was the correct one. Your father couldn’t have been happier with the match to keep the Targaryen bloodline as strong as ever.

You were wed four years later. Aemond knew his good fortune when you became his wife. It was love in its purest form bound together for eternity -in this life and the next. It was as natural as breathing, as the birds fly in the sky, as the flowers sway in the breeze. It just was.

Considering this, Aemond gained the courage to speak.

“My love,” His voice was soft as he gazed upon you. The leather patch was gone from his face and the sapphire glimmered in the firelight. He took long strides over to you, hand gently caressing the side of your neck while the other pressed softly to your belly through the sheer white nightgown and nightcoat. “Luke made it to Storm’s End well after I had, with little to show for it. If anything, he slighted the Lord Baratheon by coming with nothing but a hope and a dream,” He began, his thumb sliding up to rub the apple of your cheek.

“And what of you?” You questioned. Your fury wasn’t completely directed towards Aemond’s brash actions towards your late cousin, though they were still aimed at Aemond nonetheless. “What did you fill your hands with to drop at the Lord’s feet?” Your eyebrows were angrily set, the rage that had dampened was breathing back to life before him.

“Better terms than the little Prince that never was and never will be,” His face was neutral as he said this, purposefully skirting around the answer.

“What were the terms?” You spat, nearly hissing. His hand moved back to the side of your neck and squeezed gently in warning.

“What ever are the terms, sweetling?” He questioned back, as if speaking to a child. “If we want loyalty from the Baratheon’s, marriage was the only offer to be put forth,”

“With whom?” By the look on yours face, he knew you already had your answer. “Who are we to marry to that swine slop of a family? Tell me!” You screamed, tears flooding your violet eyes. You allowed them to fall, begging Aemond to look at the face of a mother’s pain and sacrifice. Begged him to look at what his actions have done to you.

“My babe is yet to be born and you’ll rip them cruelly from my hands?” You wailed angrily. “Will you scoop them up the second they drop from me, Husband? To be sold!”

“Enough!” Aemond’s voice echoed in the room, silencing your hysterics. Your bottom lip quivered as he stared straight into your soul. The heartbreak he saw in your eyes could’ve taken him out at the knees, though he stood steadfast. If he could spare you the turmoils, he would, but no one would be spared in the horrors of war.

“I have raised you, Aemond,” You whispered, tears clouding your voice, “Guided you, comforted you, loved you! And it means nothing!”

“We are at war, dear wife, whether I killed that brat or not!” He spat, squeezing tighter to subdue you. Your hands grasped his wrist. “This is but a small price, though I loathe to pay it,” His hissed through clenched teeth. He braced his forehead against yours for a moment. You closed your eyes as you cried into him. “I will fill you with a hundred babes if you so wish, my love, but it does not change where we are now. King Aegon commands it, thus is must be so.” He shifted to hold you to his chest. His white shirt absorbed your tears and muffled your sobs.

“Aegon has children to throw to the crows. Why does he not offer them up?” You demanded, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Children he cares not about. Children he treats the same way father treated him, but they were not offered as tribute,”

“What you speak of is treasonous,” Aemond whispered into your ear.

“Treason be damned! My child, our child, will not be thrown to the stags before their first breath, Aemond! After all I have given you, you cannot ask this of me,”

“I’m not asking,” He sighed, detaching himself from you but keeping you at arm’s length. “The deal is done. We will keep the child until they are of age for the formal betrothal. Dependent on the gender, they will either stay here to marry and live out their lives, or they will return to Storm’s End. This is the way of royalty and politics, my love. You taught me that. No one escapes from it.”

“We did,” You replied earnestly, resting your hand on his heaving chest.

“We are not most.” He reasoned, taking your hand in his own.

“No…we are not.” With that, Aemond kissed the crown of your head and left the room.

“Ser Harold,” You heard Aemond command as the door closed. The sworn knight, your protector for nearly a decade, was stood outside your chamber door and would be so long as Aemond was not near. You could not hear the discussion through the door but it did not matter to you. The bed was calling your name and who were you to ignore.

A clamor and a grunt from outside the chamber door startled you awake. The fire at the end of the room was merely glowing embers so it must’ve been a few hours since you closed your eyes. Aemond still had yet to return, but with the political climate as of recent, it wasn’t surprising.

Groaning, you climbed out of the comforts of the bed and pulled your nightcoat over your nightgown. Lighting a candle, you grabbed your dagger -a precaution Aemond had mentioned when he initially brought the blade to you- and stepped towards the door.

“Ser Harrold,” You called through the door after the commotion stilled to a silence on the other side. “Answer me at once,” you demanded. A singular pair of boots could be heard on the other side of the door, feather light but still noticeable in the dead silence. As you stepped closer to lean your ear to the door, your bare foot stepped in a warm, thick liquid. Leaning down as far as you could go, you brought the candle down to illuminate what you had stepped in. Gasping in horror, you straightened yourself up and stepped back from the door.

Blood. Blood coated your feet, squelching between your toes. The blood of Ser Harrold.

Dagger clutched firmly in your hand, you silently moved to the false book case near the fireplace. Secret corridors littered the Red Keep, which wasn’t a secret of itself. You had just hoped that whoever was outside your door did not know of their existence. With the false door closed behind you, you took a breath. Your sworn sword, a dear friend, was dead.

The endless passages and tunnels would’ve proven a deadly labyrinth for anyone who hadn’t grown up in the Keep. Aemond would drag you down them as children to spy on anyone you’d come across. Secrets and debauchery held close, known only to you and Aemond. It gave you both a sense of giddiness and closeness that you knew the deepest secrets of the kingdom, and that those who harbored them were none the wiser. You believed that is where Aemond had developed his cunning.

Taking the next passage to the right would take you in the direction you hoped your husband would be. At the very least, guards, knights, maids -anyone. You made it to the end and took another breath, your dagger in the position of attack. Using your body, you pushed the false door open just a crack to see if you could see anyone walking the corridor. It was dimly lit with torches, but it was as close as you were going to get with the series of passages you had access to from your quarters. Building whatever Targaryen courage you had within you, you set the candle down on the ground and pushed the door open enough to squeeze through before pushing it shut. The corridor was clear in both directions, much to your relief. Though that relief was short lived.

“Princess,” The voice of a thousand serpents hissed behind you. Turning swiftly, all of the air in your lungs left in a single breath. The man held you close, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you to his chest. To any onlooker it could be perceived as an embrace, but in reality it was anything but. Your own dagger dropped from your grasp, clanging to the floor with an echo.

“An eye for an eye will make us all blind, Princess,” the man’s voice dripped with venom. Looking down to where they were joined, the man pushed the dagger in your belly further until your flesh met the hilt eliciting a harsh gasp from you.

Yanking the dagger harshly from your womb, the stranger merely walked down the corridor and disappeared within the shadows.

Your hands quickly met with the gash, pushing hard to stem the bleeding. Your screams echoed down the endless corridors as you leaned against the wall to steady yourself as your head swam.

A gush of fluid fell to your feet from between your legs, cramps overtook your body causing screams of agony to echo in the corridor. You fell to your knees, blood pooling around you. Panic and pain filled your entire being, but your instinct to survive overtook all else.

Dying here was not an option.

With everything you had, you used the wall to pull yourself up. Your bare feet staggered with each step, a bloody trail following in your wake. Halfway down the eastern staircase as you met the landing, your legs gave out. Your arm caught onto the railing to stop you from continuing down. Your head rested against the wall, the cool stone a small comfort.

“Princess!” An elder maid shouted in terror as she and her two underlings ran to you. As she got closer she could see the sweat cascading from your forehead at the exertion, and the gray pallor of your skin. The deep red of your blood across your nightgown and the floor had her scrambling for guards and maesters. “Find Prince Aemond!”

“My baby,” You murmured through gasps of breath and groans as the maids surrounded you to stem the bleeding. “My…” You blindly reached a hand out and the old maid grasped it firmly to let you know she was with you.

“Shh, save your strength, your Grace,” The elder maid brought a towel to your face, as a troop of maesters ran to you as fast as their old bones would carry them. "The guards are fetching the Prince presently, my Princess,"

A knight, you could not discern his face through your blurred gaze, carefully lifted you at the instruction of the eldest Maester and hurried to the Maesters’ wing, dozens of footsteps rushing behind.

“Aemond,” your eyes rolled as you looked up at the open night sky in the walkway that separated the healing rooms from the rest of the Keep. Aerraxys’ scorned cries were heard from the skies as if he could feel the pain of his rider, though he could not be seen.

You blinked once, twice, and the darkness took hold.

Parts II & III have been posted!

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #x reader #got imagine

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jiminjamms · 2 years

Text

sex therapy :: 14. sucker for pain

chapter tags/warnings: misogynistic! naoya. pet names ("bimbo"). dirty talking. nonconsenual undertones. infidelity/adultery. strong language. humiliation. classism.

word count: 3.8k

notes: i published this story for the first time in october 2021 on wattpad, and i'm so thankful for and overwhelmed by the support and love that sex therapy has received over the past year. thank you for watching me and my story grow. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Eat. Sleep. Fuck. Repeat.

This would be the mantra Naoya would live by tonight.

The little date he was taking you on was merely a prequel to the chain of bedroom events he had schemed for the evening. Because warming up first was important, no?

As a wonderful husband, Naoya took his precious wife out to dinner at Shibuya’s Cé La Vi, a top-floor restaurant that may not be as vertigo-inducing as its famous Marina Bay Sands counterpart in Singapore, but offered a menu and skyline views second to none.

He had even requested an outdoor table under the fairy lights for the romantic atmosphere, where both the amber hues and soft jazz washed the vicinity with warmth and peace. Exactly what Naoya also needed after his last twenty hours filled with hurried negotiations with publishers, a long flight back to Tokyo, and many private lectures from his outraged father.

At least that was all done now.

Sighing, Naoya gestured at a nearby waiter, who disappeared and returned with a glass of expensive tequila several minutes later. Eight in the evening might be far too early for Naoya to down his third shot of Don Julio, but he needed to reward himself for completing a hectic itinerary without a wink of shuteye in between.

With the drink, he quietly soaked in the low hum of chatter that mingled with the gentle clinking of cutlery. The ambiance was so miraculous that Naoya didn’t know why he hadn’t taken you here earlier.

Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he had taken you out on a proper date anyway?

Oh, when he took you out two weeks ago to skydive in…

No, wait that was with Mari.

He was only two and a half glasses in, but the liquor was already messing with his memory.

So when…?

“We haven’t done anything like this in a long, long while,” you commented when you must have noted his extended silence at the dinner table, although Naoya found it quite funny that you seemingly read his thoughts instead.

He swirled the liquor in his glass but decided against another sip. “You think so?” he asked as harmlessly as possible. “When was the last time?”

Cutting into a scallop on your plate, you bit your inner cheek. “Our…honeymoon.”

Holy crap, that Caribbean trip was months ago. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned.

Oh.

Okay, he might have thought a lot more about spending time with his mistress, and he hadn’t exactly been keeping track of every single date he went on with you, but he certainly did not expect to have such an abysmal track record with his own wife.

Not that he felt guilty about his absence in your life.

Besides, you had the money to entertain yourself as you wished. Whether because you were blinded by sheer stupidity or his bank account, you thankfully didn’t complain much either. All Naoya had to do was to keep you happy and ignorant because—to paraphrase his father’s own words—if Naoya flopped this marriage with the COO's daughter, he would not be welcomed in the Zenin household again.

The difficult part, however, was that you were hard to please.

That was what happened to little girls who grew up spoiled by daddy’s money, Naoya supposed. Mari, on the other hand, would have absolutely been overjoyed in your position. Hell, even Naoya himself—who merely grew up as a spare heir—would have shown some gratitude.

“Sorry that I’ve been so occupied.” The Zenin CEO had to inject whatever sympathy and sincerity he had into his apology before sampling his risotto. “I’ve been buried in work ever since I joined the executive suite earlier this year. I’ve had a lot to catch up on.”

“I know,” you responded very matter-of-factly. “And I understand. You’ve been busy with meetings.”

Right. Meetings with his board in addition to his, well, other more discreet ‘meetings’ where he pounded his paramour into oblivion (but let’s not talk about that, shall we?).

As he pushed the thought away, he placed his fork down in exchange for his drink. “That’s why I invited you for dinner—to spend extra time with you. I’ll make things up to you even more later.”

You glanced up from your meal, blinking rapidly but the ambivalence apparent in your gaze. “Really? Like how?”

Sex, you motherfucking dimwit.

How much more obvious did he have to be?

Of course, he instead replied with, “You’ll see.”

He hadn’t told you his idea to rail your brains out because he didn’t feel obligated to, but if he wanted to a) get his father off his ass and b) be a baby daddy by morning, he had quite the mission to accomplish. Besides, if he calculated the numbers correctly in his head, today was still within your fertility window. A later day in the schedule, but still a fertile time for his wife, nonetheless. This was the perfect time to focus on you, particularly since he wouldn’t be distracted by Mari for some time. Perhaps arriving early from Mexico wasn’t too much of a bad thing.

Tonight, the deed didn’t seem too difficult to do either, thanks to how provocatively you dressed. Since when did you wear off-the-shoulder mini dresses? Was this from your New York fashion haul three months back?

“It’d be nice if you could apologize to me first.”

Naoya froze with his glass by his mouth at your unanticipated comment. What were you even going on about? “Didn’t I already say sorry for not spending time with you?” This was what he meant by how ungrateful you were.

Curling your lips inward, you inhaled sharply. “That wasn’t what I was—”

When the conversation was unexpectedly interrupted by a buzzing at the table, Naoya reached for his phone only to be greeted with a blank screen. Rather, he looked up to see you wiping your hands and staring at your device, mirroring Naoya’s own confusion as your brows creased at an unsaved number.

“Spam,” you concluded and pushed the device away once the caller eventually reached voicemail. “What I was saying,” you began even as your face contorted momentarily with reluctance, “was that you never told me you were away from Japan. I didn’t even know where you were or when you would be back had I not called your secretary.”

Wow, that was what you wanted an apology for?

What an entitled brat.

Admittedly, Naoya should have texted you before he vanished into thin air, but a homemaker like you certainly had no business in his personal schedule. Had he truly had an investor conference to attend, Naoya was certain you would have been just as meddlesome, which was why he found the situation even more sardonic when you confirmed his suspicions by adding, “Sending me a text isn’t too difficult, you know.”

Just who the hell did you think you were?

Don’t think he had not noticed how confrontational you had been as of late, criticizing his actions and then dishing out instructions as though you were anywhere near the place to do so. This change from your typically submissive nature was uninvited, to say the least. Like, at the bare minimum, you could look at your own husband as you spoke, and Naoya wondered if your actions were simply a phase in the relationship or a reveal of the real you. Whatever the reason, he wanted his good and obedient wife back.

“Well then, my apologies." His eye twitched as he spoke, and nothing now could hide the contempt rising in his tone. “Next time, I’ll make sure my assistants send you my entire itinerary from when I sleep to when I use the restroom to—"

Naoya couldn’t even think through his annoyance because, at this point, your phone was ringing for what must be the third time and that irked him even further.

“Please!” he scoffed, his vexation bursting through his voice. “Just excuse yourself and pick that shit up, good lord!”

At least that much you listened to. You pardoned yourself, stepping away just as Naoya pinched the bridge of his nose. On the one date he finally organized with his wife, you just had to ruin his mood with your shit attitude and table manners. Fantastic.

After one long huff, Naoya swung around in his seat and caught the attention of a nearby waiter.

The fuming executive then pointed at his glass.

“Another shot, ASAP."

As much as you were guilty of self-deprecation, you were not masochistic enough to simply swallow your husband’s insults over dinner.

‘Sex, you motherfucking dimwit.’

Simply thinking back to that line sent tiny pricks to your chest.

Did Naoya really think that, just because he mumbled that to himself under his breath, you wouldn’t hear him? What made you even more upset was that, when you asked for an apology, he could not even recognize his wrongs. There was more that you hoped to confront him about, too—particularly about the rumors of his extramarital affairs—but you had half the mind to shut up given his splenetic fury.

Whoever called you, however, thankfully provided you with a reason for reprieve.

You rushed out of the main restaurant venue as you curiously stared at your phone, noticing the missed calls from an unknown number. When the same contact information appeared on your screen in its fourth ring, you pressed the ‘Accept’ button only for the other line to greet you first.

“I still have your dress, kiddo.”

Kiddo.

Only one person called you that.

“Choso?” you nearly shouted in disbelief, unintentionally garnering the attention of some bystanders.

“That’s me alright,” the therapist answered, his reply cool and composed as though he never questioned the fact that his hands landed on your phone number. “I was just about to give up on reaching you.”

Overwhelmed, you sighed. “Sorry, I’m rather busy at the moment.”

“Right, right,” he mulled, a faint rumble sneaking in his tone. Choso then clicked his tongue against his teeth, and you could almost picture the blasé manner in which he would recline in a seat as some shuffling echoed over the line, which would have normally been irrelevant until he added, “Well, I’m downstairs.”

“What?!” was your first reaction. Now, you were certainly getting weird stares. Downstairs, as in, where? “Are you in—”

“Yes, Shibuya. You’re at Cé La Vi right now, aren’t you? Take the elevator down to the first floor. My car’s parked right outside the building’s main doors. That Dolce & Gabbana outfit I made you change out of before the club, I didn’t have a chance to return that since you stormed out of the meeting last night.”

You shut your dropped jaw. “The dress I remember but,” your gaze then narrowed, “how do you know where I am?”

The call suddenly grew quiet, the lull stretching for what must be an hour as Choso carefully contemplated his next words. “When you’re in the right business,” he hinted darkly, no doubt making a reference to his underbelly occupation, “information isn’t hard to come by once you know the right people.”

An assassin with eyes all over the city, huh?

Well, that explained how he got your number as well, albeit you would not be surprised if he had dug through the therapist office’s database for that instead. Sometimes, you had to wonder how an upper-class lady like you got entangled with a man like him, but a five-minute round trip to the first floor could not possibly hurt, right?

“I’ll meet you, then,” you eventually replied and ended the call.

Catching the first elevator car down, you had no trouble spotting the iconic blue Corvette convertible that stood outside the building’s entrance. Upon your approach, Choso rolled down his window and stuck his head out. This evening, his jet-black strands were pulled back into one low ponytail rather than two, his prominent jawline appearing even sharper against the nighttime backdrop.

No wonder this man had a whole harem in the club.

“Hey,” he hummed as his inky eyes ran down your figure, his gaze lingering a little longer on your exposed collarbone before traveling down to your legs. “I like your style.”

At the compliment, you looked away, feeling a bizarre prickle in your stomach. “I’m on a dinner date.”

“With Naoya?” Given how the therapists have recently revealed their disdain for your husband, you were not surprised to see Choso grimace. “Why…would you do that to yourself?”

Great question. “He’s paying, so I can’t complain.”

Choso pressed his lips outward, nodding when he could not argue against that. “I see.”

During the silence that ensued, you clicked your heels together, too busy floundering in the burning presence of your companion that you almost forgot the reason you were here in the first place. “Do…you have my dress?”

Nonchalantly, the man pointed to the back with his thumb. “In the trunk. What? You’re in a rush or something?”

You nodded slowly. “Naoya doesn’t know I’m down here," you explained but, given the psychological pain that your husband had inflicted on you, there was no good reason for guilt to be tugging at your lungs.

Even Choso narrowed his eyes. “You’re going back to that asshole?”

Another great question.

Without saying much, Naoya already made clear that his intention with you tonight was grounded only in sexual gratification, that he viewed you as nothing beyond—as he had put it—‘a motherfucking dimwit.’ Despite the pain, you never failed to find a reason to crawl back to the husband that lashed at your heart.

“Naoya is already angry at me,” you eventually remarked, twirling the edges of your dress. “If I don’t get back...”

“Then what? Even more of a reason to ditch him, to be honest. Maybe that will teach him a lesson for all the times he left you.” Choso was not the type to talk much, but he inevitably had the uncanny ability to leave you dumbstruck once he did. Oblivious to your state (or not), he then casually adjusted the braided bracelet at his wrist. “Better things to do with your time than stay with him.”

Funny that your first instinct was to defend Naoya again. However, even if you were to dutifully return to your husband, he would internally welcome you with apathy, his only goal to leave you smitten as a kitten just so he would have a pussy to play with.

Abandoning Naoya also came with one other problem, though. “There isn’t much else for me to do.”

How pitiful was that?

Sure, you had a stack of invitations to various charity dinners and networking parties, but—even with all the riches and respect in the world—you found those events pretentious, repetitive, and dull.

You half-expected Choso to mock you. (Because, really, who were you to complain about first-world problems?) However, the man just paused slightly, a dash of sympathy running over his expression as he then motioned to the empty shotgun seat.

“I could take you out for a ride.”

Your brows shot up. Tempting. “Where to?”

“Since I’m free tonight, I was going to take myself somewhere by Tokyo Bay—one of my favorite spots around,” Choso explained as he ran both his hands through his hair. “Although, if you’re interested, I could show you the area, too.”

At the proposal, you tried not to smile too obviously. Who knew that a hardened part-time hitman actually had such a soft spot?

“Then I’d love to.”

Choso drove off the second you jumped into the Corvette, the convertible greeting you with its familiar ashy honeysuckle scents and a The Neighbourhood tune. With a long exhale, you sank into the red leather seat and stared out the window, watching the nearby scenery transform from skyscrapers to highway signs.

Quietly, you relished the soothing silence in the car that was a refuge from the charged cacophony over dinner, reflecting on the steps that brought you to this moment. What a twist of fate, how the man who had detested you weeks ago was now a warm beacon that offered light in the merciless sea, providing you more comfort than you'd like to admit.

When you unconsciously turned in his direction, you tried to not stare too obviously at the metal on his ears, the piercings gleaming as they caught beams from bypassing streetlamps. You might have had a rough start with Choso Kamo, but you still found him ridiculously attractive with his oversized white sweater and black jeans, hiding his athletic physique underneath.

“Need me to pull up Google Maps?” you asked upon realizing your extended ogling.

“No,” he shot back. “I know this city like the back of my hand.”

And Choso sure seemed like he did.

He was focused solely on driving, his palms clasped around the steering wheel as his fingers drummed to the bass of ‘Sweater Weather.’

This close to him, you noticed how his hands were rough and calloused—almost definitive sign of working out. Right where he rolled up his sleeves, veins also weaved beneath his forearm tattoos, the inked vines something you never had the chance to examine extensively either.

This time, you weren’t too discreet given that he caught your gaze. “What?”

Oops. “Nothing.”

You turned away to look ahead, trying to calm your frenzied heart by observing some uninteresting cars on the expressway. A proper lady like you knew better than to gawk at someone for a prolonged time, yet you still got caught red-handed. How embarrassing.

Slumping further into your seat, you pouted as your weird way in mitigating the internal humiliation. “Just…keep your eyes on the road.”

While Choso did as he was told, he held back a low chuckle. “And you could keep your eyes on me.”

“But I wasn’t—!" A complete lie, but you still shouted with flailing arms, defenses hopeless.

Yet, what really disarmed you was Choso’s faint smirk.

One minute, you were frustrated and flustered; the next, you were simply stunned at the amused tilt in his lips, all because his smile was so rare. There was something enchanting about the cocky way Choso grinned as he stepped on the accelerator, the maniacal gleam in his eyes as he stared ahead, the bright colors of the Tokyo evening that glittered behind him.

“Jesus, take the fucking wheel,” you muttered like a starstruck teenager.

“What’s wrong?” he asked harmlessly because this man definitely heard you over the music. He threw you a quick glance even as the smile on his lips stayed. “I mean, you could keep staring if you want to, bimbo. I won’t judge.”

Mouth opened to back talk, your ambitions immediately got cut short as Choso moved a hand from the steering wheel to your inner thigh. While you hid your gasp at the unexpected contact, you only hoped that he did not notice the way you tensed under his searing touch.

But Choso noticed, alright.

“Hm, why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” Choso pressed again, his focus still on the lane as though he was not caressing you, massaging you, his thumb running in hypnotic circles centimeters away from the dull throb between your legs,

How he managed to maintain his composure in such a situation was a mystery given that you, unlike him, gripped hard at the side of your seat.

“Because…” you hissed after mustering all effort.

Then, you stopped.

How could you respond while completely distracted by the tightening in your stomach, practically holding your breath as his hand crept up higher? It was not helping that his fingers were so thick, that he had a small dagger printed by a knuckle, that his scent was reminiscent of burning maple leaves during a New England fall.

“‘Because…?’ Because what?” Choso asked, knocking your thoughts loose momentarily because he—on the other hand—did not miss your incomplete answer. His nails dug into your skin, nearly making you yelp at the incredible burn. “What’s the issue? I don’t remember you being this shy with the other therapists around.”

The steeliness that underlined his tone…

Was Choso still hung up about your frisky flings with Toji and Sukuna? Even though you should have never gotten sexually involved with them in the first place, you never would have thought that Choso would hold such a grudge.

In response, you cautiously observed his side profile. “Are…you jealous?”

He closed his eyes momentarily at the question, indescribable salaciousness etched on his lovely face, and he shuddered slightly. His eyes opened back as a sharpened glare, Adam’s apple bobbing as the result of a drawn-out swallow.

“Oh, baby,” he growled, and it was the backward tilt of his head that left your mind spinning, “you have no idea.”

Traveling beneath your dress, his hand roamed a little higher, then higher again, his pinky finger brushing at your panties’ seam such that if he decided to travel up any further, he might just feel how miserable and soaked you were.

Just hurt me, you begged silently, legs squeezing together subconsciously as you feel a delicious heat churning through your body, biting back a moan when Choso gripped hard at your thigh before smacking at the flesh.

“Harder,” you accidentally pleaded out loud, immediately clamping your hands over your mouth.

Unsurprisingly, your insanely handsome driver turned to you. When you met his gaze, you only wished that you hadn’t because Choso had a gaze that left you weak in the knees, the murky pool in his eyes enough to leave you whittled to a frantic and blubbering mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

“Well, I'm curious what your husband would say,” he interjected, debauchery bleeding in his tone, “when I send you home my handprints on your ass cheeks?”

Wow, that really took you aback.

“‘When?’” you bleated. Not ‘if?’

“Yes, ‘when,’” he confirmed with a hoarse thrum. His overflowing confidence clouded your head with something heady, something intoxicating. As much as you think you should tell Choso to stop, words were lodged in your throat once he forced your legs apart with one firm pull, and while you found pleasure in the pain, it was his next suggestion that sent sweet vibrations straight down your spine: “Because I wonder what would happen once I spread you over the car hood and took you right there.”

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