#because some of my dvds got scratched :( and i never even used them and somehow they still broke sighsss

[kateis-cakeis]

I'm curious more than anything, but why did fanon decide that Aithusa is female?

I mean, it's never 100% completely confirmed that Aithusa is male either. Yes, Kilgharrah said "'you named him", but he also said that Aithusa "bodes well for Albion, for you and Arthur, and for the land that you will build together."

So Kilgharrah can be wrong.

But! I wanna know if anyone has a good starting point of how this part of fanon came about. I tried to search, but nothing was really coming up for it.

Though, I do know with fanon sometimes things just start and nobody knows how they started or when exactly, so I understand if this is one of those cases :P

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball. 

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap. 

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved. 

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students. 

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done. 

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed. 

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint. 

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts." 

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex." 

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away. 

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly. 

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it. 

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.  

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.  

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom. 

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her. 

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him. 

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia.  I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you …  still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton​ @cordonianprincess​ @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​ @drrookie​ @sfb123​ @secretaryunpaid​

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 4

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I felt it necessary to say, remember, these are all following along with the episodes from 03x04 on till the end of 3A. Without *directly* inserting the reader into the plot line, but more an off screen role. (Aside from the beginning, where, obviously, Derek fought the Alpha’s while Cora watched from the sidelines.) And because of that, it’s more angst than I usually write. It was a very angsty season. And the prompts have inherent angst, but lots of fluff, and sass, so once we get out of the murkiness that is Jennifer Blake (can you tell I don’t like her? - which, kudos to the actress, who I think is beautiful and brilliant, for making me hate her so much. 😆) we can move on to that happy, feel good, Sourwolf love we all enjoy so much. But until then, I guess this counts as a slow burn of sorts?

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,633

Xxx

The next day was lonely. Stiles would text you every now and then, but other than that it was a quiet day. No word about Derek from anyone other than Peter and Cora going to get his body and it not being there. And neither was Ennis’, who Derek had pulled down with him. You decided not to dwell on the many possible things that could mean. 

You drove in silence to all the places Stiles had mentioned the night before and spoke meekly at each one. You felt almost like you were floating through the day, going through the motions, but your mind was a million miles away. 

The meet ended up getting canceled due to weather, and they were all going to be stuck staying at some crappy motel that Stiles insisted was haunted through multiple texts with an excessive amount of emojis. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone else, which was kinda odd, but also not totally abnormal.

To top it all off, you needed something you left at the loft, so you told the Sheriff - who had taken the night off and ordered a pizza to stay in with you this evening, after finding out Stiles wasn’t coming right back - you would be back in a flash, you just had to “run home real quick”, careful not to mention the loft, to which he just chuckled and said something along the lines of, “Just make sure you run the speed limit.”

Sighing as you pulled into the loft parking lot, you glanced through the windshield up at the top floor where it sat. It was so ominous looking, bathed in moonlight, it almost gave a faint glow. Resting your forehead on the steering wheel, you took some deep breaths, panic rising as flashes of your tango with an Alpha came back rapidly. But instead of feeling like a badass, it made you hyperventilate. There was this gnawing feeling that it had been a one time thing, and that should you ever encounter them again you would be in so much trouble. 

Taking one last deep breath to steady your nerves, you stopped mid inhale, slightly cocking your head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

Derek. 

You had caught Derek’s scent. Well, it’s his loft, you rationalized to yourself. But no. This was fresh. Less than a few hours old. Glancing back up at the loft one last time, you grabbed the handle and yanked your door open, mustering the courage you could find to climb up the winding staircase and see for yourself.

Taking them two at a time, you felt your courage build with each step and your hope that Derek was there along with it. As you stood in front of the loft door, your outstretched hand just shy of the handle and trembling, you took a tentative breath and knew Derek had been here very recently. That was the final push you needed to firmly grip the handle of the loft door, preparing to give it a hefty pull, but something made you stop short. 

A whisper. 

Just on the other side of the door, a woman's voice, then Derek’s. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you; you didn’t smell anyone else. You did pick up on something vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. The smell reminded you of school, and the crime scenes of the sacrifices you had been at, and lately, the loft. Unable to place the smell, you slowly slid the door open, stopping after only a few inches to peek in. 

What you saw made your heart speed up, as there Derek sat on the edge of his bed, covered in scratches and blood, but alive. He was alive. 

Your feet that had been glued to the floor suddenly felt like they were floating, the distance between him and you too much. You couldn’t contain the smile that brought to your lips, but it soon melted when another figure stepped into view in front of him. On instinct you had started to move forward, barely making it over the threshold before the other silhouette made you pull up short.

Jennifer. 

You covered your mouth to hold in whatever was about to come out, anger, disgust, pain, you didn’t know, they were all swirling in your gut at the sight. You fell to your knees, bracing yourself on the doorframe to try and stay just out of sight.

No, Derek hadn’t caught your scent yet, which is what you found the most strange, and worrisome, and only reinforced that she was doing something to his mind. 

You finally placed the smell as belonging to Miss Blake, but it was different from her scent she had all the other times you had seen her, and that somehow made it worse. It didn’t smell like emotions or anything, it smelled like an entirely different being. Barely even human.

This last thought made you knit your eyebrows in determination, about to rise to your feet, charge in there, and show the she devil a thing or two, but you only made it to one knee, still bent on the floor, before you froze, eyes wide, eyebrows practically in your hairline. What you saw could never be unseen. Like two dogs in heat, they were on one another as if space between them was too painful. Your grip on the door frame and the loft door handle almost broke them under the pressure. 

You felt sick. Physically sick to your stomach. Whether from the feeling of betrayal, knowing you were right that something was weird about this whole thing, the fact that they had been getting it on in front of you, or all of the above, you weren’t quite sure.

Sliding the door shut calmly, you tried to keep it together as you softly, but quickly, made it back down the stairs, into your car, and back to the Stilinski driveway, putting your car in park and shutting off the engine before you let yourself feel anything. 

You wanted to kick and scream and sob your eyes out because you knew she had been doing something to him, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t go with your gut, and now here you were. In your car, alone. In front of the Stilinski house. Silent tears racing down your face at the feeling of betrayal, both from seeing them together tonight and at yourself for not doing something sooner. 

A tap on your window made you jump, and you saw the Sheriff trying to peek in. Opening your door, you hopped out, swiping rapidly at your tears, and plastering a smile on your face. “Sorry that took so long.”

He looked at you skeptically, waving it off. “Nah. The pizza just got here. You’re right on time.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he ushered you into the house, quietly closing the front door behind the both of you. He stayed silent until you were both in the living room. He had the remote in his hand about to press play on the movie, but it dipped once in hesitation before he sighed, and it fell along with his hand to the armrest beside him. Scrubbing his face for a moment with his free hand, he finally looked up at you. Opening his mouth once before snapping it shut, staring blankly in front of him as if the space held the right thing to say, he scratched his forehead with the remote, his face making the face you had come to learn and love earlier on from Stiles. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You stopped trying to grab a slice of pizza from the box, clearing your throat and wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans before nodding gently, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” You looked up and met his gaze, seeing concern painting his features. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Stilinski. Just boy trouble. Thanks for asking.” You smiled as best you could, and he seemed to do the same. 

“Well, we’ve known each other forever, sweetheart, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

The smile on your face felt a little more genuine. “I know. Thank you.”

“No matter how uncomfortable it makes me,” he continued as if you hadn’t said anything. The words sounded pained and forced, his brows knit like he was eating a lemon, and you finally let out the full smile that had been trying break through, even laughing. 

His lips twitched up gently. “There she is.”

“I will. Thank you. But for both of our sakes-” you leaned in, placing a hand on his forearm- “I’ll probably just tell Stiles.”

“Oh, thank God.” He let out on a huff of air, making you laugh again. “Now. Let’s watch this movie.” He hit play, and you settled into the couch, letting the plot unfolding on the screen take you away, if only for a little while.

Xxx

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, waking you up with a start. 

The DVD menu played softly on a loop, the movie long over, and to your right the Sheriff was snoring with his head on the back of the couch. 

You tossed the blanket you had been using on top of him before leaving the room and checked your phone, only to see it was Stiles.

“Stiles?” You spoke quietly into the receiver, not wanting to wake the Sheriff. 

“Y/N? Why are you whispering?” Stiles sounded kind of stressed, just a little bit off. 

“Your dad took off work tonight and we had a pizza - yes, I let him have pizza, don’t you dare jump on my case and go on a tirade about how he needs a salad, let the man live, Stiles - and we watched a movie.”

“I was wondering why that soundtrack was playing on a loop in the background. He used a DVD, didn’t he? I taught him how to use streaming-”

“Stiles!” You cut off his tangent with a chuckle. “Why are you calling me so late. Or, is it early?” You checked your watch to find it was early morning, still dark outside. 

“Well, let’s just say tonight has been interesting, we are all alive, which is good, but sleeping on the bus-”

“The bus?”

“The bus. Our rooms weren’t safe, and I don’t mean because of roaches or mysterious stains, Y/N.” You grinned. “Although there was this one smell in my room that was rather suspect….”

Smell. Scent. Shit.

Screwing your eyes shut, palm on your forehead, you spoke quickly, “Stiles, don’t be angry with me.” Peeking your head into the other room to see the Sheriff still soundly asleep, you stepped onto the back porch and closed the door behind you, ignoring Stiles’ incessant questions as you did. 

“Stiles! Hush! I had to leave the room so your dad didn’t hear!” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You heard the squeak of the bus as he slumped back against it, obviously doing the same as you and trying to get a bit of privacy. 

Taking a deep breath, you told him everything you saw at the loft. 

The only thing he did was suck in a sharp breath, but was otherwise silent. Finally he said, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, thanks, whatever.” You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before lifting your gaze to stare vacantly across the yard. “My main concern was that scent. It didn’t smell human, but not entirely not human.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Stiles said blandly, making your lips twitch up just slightly. You heard another voice on the other end, Scott, and Stiles mumbled something about speakerphone before the phone was jostled around a bit. You could hear a mumbled, “Well, no, you don’t need speakerphone because you’re a freak of nature, Scott, but I, a mere mortal, need the aid.” You chuckled and could hear Scott let out a groan and soft chuckle himself. 

“Y/N?” Finally Scott’s voice came through clearly.

“Yeah?” 

“First of all, thank you. For everything.” His voice sounded distant, and you sure as hell were going to interrogate them when they got back as to what the hell happened that night at the motel, but for now you just nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you and rolled your eyes. 

“You’re welcome, Scott. The feeling’s mutual. Thanks for making it so easy.”

Stiles humphed. “I feel like that last part was directed at me.”

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A mumbled, “Thanks, I guess,” but you could hear his smile. 

“Y/N, the scent. The one you smelled at Derek’s loft.” Scott was back to business. “I think I smelled it here tonight.”

“Really? How is that-” You were cut off by Scott who was obviously talking to Stiles. 

“Right before we decided to stay in the bus, when Lydia saw something in the fire, after the explosion-”

"Okay, what the hell happened to you guys?!" you asked loudly, cutting them off. Grimacing, you quickly used your hearing to pick up on the Sheriff's continued snores, let out a sigh of relief, and lowered your voice. "I feel so left out."

“No, I’m glad you weren’t here,” Scott said. “Long story short, something went after a specific group of our friends, and when it finally showed its face,” you heard Lydia cut in from somewhere behind, “I’d barely call that a face,” and you didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid. 

Scott continued pointedly, “When it showed its face, I got a whiff of something I can only describe how you described the smell at the loft. Not human. But also not… not…. human.”

A smacking sound could be heard, and you realized Stiles was patting Scott on the back while saying, “It’s okay, bud. It’s been a long day.”

“One question.” You took a deep breath, trying to decide on the winner of thousands that swam around your brain right now. “Why is Lydia there?”

“She came with Allison.”

“Why was Allison there, Stiles?”

“Uh-uh. You said one question.”

“This is still technically the same question since they apparently came together.”

“….Touché,” Stiles finally came back with, before sighing. “Look, I’ll tell you everything when we get back, okay? It’s been a hell of a day and I just want to sleep,” he continued in a mumble, “if I can ever sleep again after seeing what I’ve seen.” A brief pause. “You werewolves need to come with a disclaimer. ‘May cause sleep disturbances’.” 

You laughed loudly. “Okay, okay. I know I’m not going to get anywhere with you guys this tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” came a chorus of voices, and you felt relief wash over you at the sound of each one, knowing they were safe and sound. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” Stiles’ voice came through by itself after some fumbling, probably taking you off speakerphone.

“Goodbye, Stiles. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep? I mean, I am part of the reason, after all. I do come with a disclaimer.”

“I would absolutely love that, but I need to save my battery and I am in a bus surrounded by werewolves, whatever Lydia is, and a hunter. I think my security system is pretty good for tonight.”

You chuckled. “Okay then. Goodnight, Stiles.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Oh!”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being there with my dad.”

“No problem, Stiles. You know he’s like family to me. He was there for me when I came back from the loft, said I could talk about it if I needed.”

“He offered to listen while you talked?!” He was almost yelling. 

You laughed again. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love, @c-dizzle99 What’s This?

[risenfrommyimagination]

can i request peter x fem!reader where he had a bad day and the reader tries to make it better but he snaps at her but it ends in fluff please💞💞

Ok you really made my day a few days ago with this, because this is my first submission and aaaah I got way to excited, so here it is, thank you so much ♥

Please send me more submissions, I love to do that & reblog if you like it :)

8:13 pm

Rain is rustling against the window as you throw your phone in front of you, pulling your legs closer to you, trying to find a comfortable position in this bed. A book is lying in front of you – biology – showing you detailed drawings of the human nerve system. You read this during the last thirty minutes, trying to fit all the weird names and descriptions of nerves and muscles into your brain. It worked. Until you decided to look at your phone, wondering where your boyfriend was.

It’s Thursday night and it’s your movie date night. Like every Thursday each week. For almost two years now. At seven thirty. And he isn’t here.

It’s not uncommon that he is late. Spiderman duties. Sometimes something happened, he had to stay longer outside or when is Spidey senses noticed something. But then he’d write you, telling you he’d be late. But today, he didn’t.

“Don’t text and swing”, you always told him before he went out and he always smirked at you, kissing you goodbye before jumping out his window. Sometimes he did and although his messages were always cute and soft and you knew he paid attention to not crash into a traffic light or a building, you’re not very pleased about it. Being Spiderman was already a really dangerous job and despite Peter being great in what he was doing and having a really protective suit, there was still a spark in your body, that was full of angst.

You lean forward, pressing the home button on your phone. No new messages.

“Fuck”, you mumble, leaning back against the wall. Where was he? Or did he forget about your date?

No, he would never. This was your ritual. Started with the third date you had. Exactly here, in this room, with May probably waiting in front of the door, ready to chime in when she’d hear something different than movie noises. But at this time, both of you been too innocent to connect movies with the other thing – sex – and just sat next to each other, holding hands while stealing sneaky glances at each other.

And today a movie night consisted of a lot of cuddles, just wearing panties and a shirt, Peter mostly just his boxers. Him curled up on your chest, his head on your breast – or his personal pillow – and your hand brushing through his soft, brown curls, while you were watching one of your favourite movies for the thirty time. Sometimes High School Musical, just to hum along the songs, Peter sometimes pulling you up, dancing with you through the small room and sometimes Harry Potter, after you decided which part – Azkaban is the best – and then just watched the movie, totally drawn in to the magical world. And sometimes, when you didn’t want to watch either, some cliché romance comedy, which you sneaked from your mom’s or May’s DVD shelf, ending in both of you making out, ignoring the film, his fingers slipping under your shirt, pulling it up.

So yes, movie nights changed, but you loved it. And today, you craved for it. For his touch, him peppering soft kisses over your neck, teasing your soft spot. You haven’t seen him much last days, both of you had been fairly busy with school, chores and extracurricular activities. And Peter’s Spiderman duties.

Your eyes glimpse at the closed door. May is here, she let you in. You could ask her, if she knew where Peter was, but also you didn’t want her to worry. She worries so much about him, more than you do probably. You try to focus back on the page in front of you, whilst ignoring this angsty grumbling in your stomach. What if something happened to him?

You shove it away. No. It was a normal, rainy Thursday night and even though rain didn’t stop criminals from doing their dirty work, no one really got out on Thursday’s, right before the weekend started.

A noise comes from the adjoining bathroom and you look up. There is light coming through the gap between the door and the floor. You hear someone mumbling, swearing. A familiar mumbling.

Peter.

You jump from the bed, your heart relieved. A little bit. Steps carrying you to the door and you open it, slowly, glimpsing in the bathroom. Peter is standing in front of the mirror, his suit just covering the lower part of his body, right above his hips. There are visible scratches on his back from the last fight and a few new ones you don’t know yet. Behind him on the floor, the reason for the noise, a broken bowl, where Peter had put in some of your hair ties and clips for you to use them when you’re over.

“Since you always lose them here, I can also store them”, eHe hhehehehhe told you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. And you knew how much your heart grew just by this simple gesture.

Peter hasn’t noticed you by now which is – due to his incredibly sensitive senses – really off for him. Sometimes in school, he noticed you when you weren’t even in his sight. Girlfriend senses he calls it.

But now, they didn’t seem to work.

“H…hey.” You clear your throat, leaning a little bit against the doorframe. “You’re home.” No judging. No anger that he was late. He was home. It was ok.

But he doesn’t look up. No reaction from him. His hands gripping around the edges of the sink, you notice fresh bruises on them, scratched skin. “Hey.” You try again, stepping a little closer. Carefully, not to scare him. Sometimes, when he is really concentrated, just a little weird noise could make him flinch and overreact.

Peter doesn’t move. His chest is raising, you can see his muscles moving as he grips around the sink tighter and you bite your lip, hesitating. Then your fingertips meet his back. No reaction.

“Peter?” Gently, your fingers trail up, trying to not touch the fresh scratches. “It’s me. Your girlfriend.” A little joke, to loosen up the weird tension in this room.

Your boyfriend doesn’t react, not a single flinch in his face, no growling about your really bad joke. Something was off, but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was and it made you crazy. Because you though you knew him well.

“Do you want to…” You pause, licking your lips. “Want to watch your favourite movie? Star Wars?” Star Wars is his all-time favourite movie, his go to when he was sick and lying in bed, whining about himself and May cooking him soup and bringing him tea all the time. 

Finally, Peter looks up, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the mirror and you feel a lump in your throat. His so brown and soft eyes are dark. And empty. If something has gone missing.

“Hey.” You lean to him, your hand grasping his hair. “Babe.” Carefully, you press a soft kiss on his shoulder. And he flinches, away from you, his back hitting the glass of the shower cabin, his left arm almost hitting you.

“Fuck, can you not…” His jaw clenches, you can see his lips trembling, something in his eyes is glistening. “What are you doing?”

“It’s Thursday, movie night…I….” Your voice is shaking, more than you want it to. “May let me…”“No.” Peter cuts you off immediately. “What are you doing?”

“I…” His jaw is clenched, fists balled and his eyes flinching.“I…” Tears are welling in your eyes, making it hard for you too see properly. “I wanted to…”

“Can’t you just leave me alone?”His voice is sharp, drilling into your heart and you back up a little. “Sorry I…” You gulp. “I’ll wait for you in…”

“I want you to leave.” The lump in your throat grows bigger. “What is wrong, I…did I…”“For fuck’s sake, can you just…” Peter runs his fingers through his hair, tugging it. A deep growl coaxes over his lips. “I had a fucking rough and shitty day and I just want to talk to nobody ok.”

His chest is raising heavily as the words hit you. Right in the heart.

He doesn’t want you here. Your boyfriend doesn’t want you here.

“Ok.” Suddenly you feel cold. Extremely cold. You turn around, tears welling up in your eyes and the bathroom door slams into the lock.

Somehow, you put on your shoes, collect all your belongings together. Your overnight bag, your phone, headphones. Then you head out.

You catch a glimpse of May standing in the hallway, asking you something, but you don’t hear it. Tears are running down your cheeks, your steps are echoing in the dark staircase, as you head down.

Down. Down. Just out of here.

 Cold rain hits your face as you step out of the door, heading down the three tiny stairs, mixing with the tears still running down your face. It is pouring, people are rushing past you, covering their heads and trying to get in somewhere, but you turn left, walking down the street, not even bothering to pull the hood of your pullover over your head.

Your steps are slow. Slower than usual. Your gaze wandering along the rooftops, which are merging with the almost black sky, hoping you’d see a familiar silhouette.

A boy in a tight suit.

Swinging after you to hold you back. To tell you that he just overreacted. Snapped.

 9:06 pm

Your hair is still a little damp as turn on the small light on your nightstand, slipping under the covers of your bed. Peter hasn’t texted you. Nor called you. There was no sign of him at all and although he said he didn’t want to talk to anyone, you hoped he would to you.

You sneak a glance at your phone the last time. No. No new messages. You turn it around, leaning your head against the cold wall behind you. Absolutely not the way your evening was planned to go out.

Your mum didn’t say a word when you came home, completely soaked, with red, puffy eyes. She let you go to your room, change, letting yourself drown in pity.

Maybe she’d ask you tomorrow what was up, when you would sit on the table, with your bowl of cereals in front of you, unable to eat anything. Then you’d tell her.

But what would you tell her? That you tried to be a good girlfriend to Peter and he snapped? Or just that he snapped?

Shaking your head, you grab the novel lying on your night stand.

Great Expectations a novel about a boy falling in love with a wealthy girl, trying to impress her to win her heart his whole life. Tragic and somehow sweet at the same time. And totally stupid at the same time, but you still had to read it and also write an essay about it. Peter and you started to read it together, reading small passages to each other, giggling about weird words and the whole situation.

Usually, Peter was lying on your lap when you were reading to him, giggling every time you impersonated every person in the story differently. Then you switched positions, you lying on his lap, his right hand playing with your hair, totally not concentrating on the text, but on touching you wherever he could.

It’s needless to say that you didn’t get very far along in the book.

You open the book at the marked page, sighing at the small writing. Although you loved books and considered to study literature after you finished school in summer, this book was horrible to read. Small, crammed font, long sentences.

Absolutely not perfect for your mood right now, where all you wanted to do was cry. You even wished you didn’t forget your biology book at Peter’s flat, somehow the human nerve system sounded more appealing to you than a love story.

Trying to focus back on the text, you pull you legs up, resting the book against them. Your eyes wander over the words, not even reading them properly, while your thoughts are switching back to Peter.

If he would have just talked to you. Normally, he’d talk about anything. About every child he saved from its bullies, the old lady he helped getting across the street, the criminal he prevented to get into the bank. Everything. And also, about his little fights with Ned, Flash mocking him in the hallways, him being angry at May, because she was so overprotective sometimes. He shared everything with you.

Something hits against your window. Probably just a gush of rain. You pull the blanket higher, your finger wandering over the line you just read.

The same noise again. A knock.

You put the book down, sliding to the end of your bed to the window. And there he is. Peter, sitting on the windowsill outside your window, his face slightly pressed against the glass, wearing no mask. You can’t see much, but he knocks again, waving at you. A soft smile on his lips and your heart stops.

With one movement, you get up and open the window and he slides in. Legs first, then the rest of his body, leaving a small pool of water on your floor. Clamped under his arm, your biology book. Looking a little bit soaked.

You step back, arms crossed, eyeing him, not sure what to say. “Hey ehm…” Peter’s right hand runs through his hair, as he holds up your biology book. “You forgot this at my place.”

Disappointment hits your gut and you gulp. “That’s what you came for?” You sit back on your bed, slipping right back under the covers and grabbing the Dickens novel. “Put it on my desk, be quiet when you leave. Mum is already gone to bed.”

Over the edge of the book, you watch Peter placing the book on your crammed desk, but instead of turning to the door, he touches the spider symbol in his chest, making his suit loose and drop to the floor. A warm shiver runs down your spine, seeing your boyfriend just wearing boxers, but you drop your eyes back on the book, ignoring him.

Slowly, he crawls into your bed, on his side. His warm feet bumping against your legs as he slips under the covers, his right hand taking the book from your hands, throwing it on the ground. “Peter, what…”

“I am sorry.” Wet hair brushes over your skin, as he pulls you close to him, his arms wrapping around your body. “I am sorry.”

A soft kiss on your neck making you shiver. Not enough to cut the knot in your throat.

“Your hair is wet.”“I didn’t want to snap at you.” Carefully, his fingers grace over your hip, drawing up to your arm. “I just…had a real shitty day.” Another soft, gentle kiss on your neck and you turn around. His fawn brown eyes meet yours, sparkling again, glossing.

“I am sorry.” Peter repeats, his nose nudging against yours. “I just…”You lick your lips, your fingers running through his wet hair, untangling it. “Talk to me…please…”

“I just…” He pauses, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was so happy to see you again today and then Ned yelled at me, because I messed up the formula and…I was so angry at me, because I never screw that up, but…”

Another pause, he rests his forehead against yours, his fingers playing with the fabric of your his old shirt. “Tony called me in a break, telling me something weird about a new project, which I can join, but it means I will be away during the summer before college and…”

A sting in your heart. “You’ll be away in the summer?”He nods. “I…this project sounds so good and I know we had other plans before college, I mean you wanted to look for a flat for us and now I’ll be gone and…” His brown eyes glimpse at you. “And it made me so upset, because I want to plan our future and…”

Trembling in his voice, you can see water pooling in his eyes.

“You know…” Gently you run your fingers through your hair. “I can also visit you Upstate.”“Despite the strict visiting hours?” Peter arches an eyebrow. “I mean Tony…”“Someone needs to take care of you.” Your eyes wander to his bruised knuckles, carefully grasping his hand. “What happened here?”“Tried to smash a wall.” He bites his lip. “I was so angry…but…didn’t work.”“Idiot.” You plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “I just felt…I would leave you on your own when I do the project….”

“Hey…I can look out for apartments on my own.” Your fingers grace over his cheek. “And send you photos.”“From you?” Lips curling into a smirk and you bump your knee against his. “The flat you smug bastard.” Peter chuckles, pecking a soft kiss on your nose. “I just…my brain was overreacting and then we had P.E. and I am so good at this and I failed and…I failed everything today…”

A shimmer in his eyes, he slides even closer, his body snuggling against yours. “Even the date night with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”“No.” He shakes his head, a few drops of water hitting your face. “I know you wanted to calm me down and I…snapped. Not a good Spiderman nor boyfriend today.”“Peter…”“I am sorry, really.” Soft shimmer sparks in his fawn eyes and you feel your heart melting. “Can I kiss you?” A gentle nudge against your nose, you feel his breath brushing over your lips as he props himself a little bit up.“You’re still asking?”He nods. “Very important. So…?”

You nod, pulling him down to you. Lips crashing against each other, slowly, passionate, your hands burying in his hair, pulling him even closer. “I missed you, bubs”, a quiet whisper against your lips, making your heart burst. “Missed you too Spidey.” He chuckles, his head sinking down on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. Not letting go.

“Babe?” Feather light kisses on your neck, trailing up to your cheek. “Still up for movie night?”Warmth in your heart. “Which movie?”“The best.” A short pause. “Goblet of Fire.”“Rude, we’re watching Azkaban.”

[horansqueenandpaynesqueen]

Next-Door Neighbours : Chapter Ten

A Liam Fanfic, A Niall Fanfic, MA Rating

New neighbours, new drama. Sometimes what you need is the last thing you’re looking for.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9

+NOTES+

1- This fic is written by Julie ( @paynesqueen​ ) & Livia ( @horansqueen​ ) 2- Julie will write the odd chapters and Livia the even chapters 3- This fic will have romance, drama and smut.

Chapter Ten by Livia (horansqueen)

To respect the boundaries she had put herself, Olivia decided to sit far from Niall on his couch. He looked at her as she put the bowl of popcorn between them but they both had to stretch to be able to grab some and it made the whole thing funnier than it was supposed to be. She was starting to regret all of that but she was not sure what exactly was driving her to that conclusion. Was it lust or was it something a lot scarier?

The first movie ended and she was glad she had seen it about a million times because she wasn't sure she actually followed it at all. It was annoying to be so focused on one person and it was a bit exhausting too. Niall turned to her and sent her a smile, raising his eyebrows.

"Not bad for an 90's movie."

"Not bad?" Olivia asked, raising her eyebrows with judgement in her voice. "You better not say that kind of semi-insult after the second one."

It made Niall laugh and he shook his head. "You're something else, did you know that?"

She shrugged with a satisfied smile and got up to change the DVD. She was still thinking about Louis' proposition and when Niall had asked her about it, she had answered that she didn't know what she was going to do because she really had no fucking clue. Could she just spend time with a guy and then go to an other one and practically just pretend it was okay? Was it fair or healthy? Wasn't it a bit dangerous? For her heart, mostly? At the same time, she didn't want to play with them but she had been clear, right? She didn't want any form of relationship and they could stop spending time with her whenever they wanted, it's not like she was forcing them to do anything. Despite all these truths, she still felt guilty and she was not sure why. Who was she really betraying? Them, or her own self? She shook her head and pushed her ridiculous thoughts away before going back to the couch.

It's only in the middle of the movie that Niall just grabbed the remote and paused it. Olivia turned to him and frowned but when their eyes met, her traits softened again.

"Something wrong?"

"Yea, something very wrong." he added with a small nod before looking down at his lap. "I can't concentrate on this movie."

"Alright, fair enough, it's not the best of the series but it's also not the worst. Trust me, it's more realistic to see Bruce Willis passing out because of a fucking luggage falling on his head than him literally falling off 80 stories without a scratch like it actually happens in the fifth!" she pointed out with a laugh.

He licked his lips and pressed them together and somehow, she was distracted by the way his fingers played with one of the cushions. She held her breath as she stared at his hand and finally, she blinked a few times and moved her gaze back on him.

"I meant that I can't concentrate because I can't stop imagining you riding me."

She felt her cheeks burn and she cleared her throat before reaching out for her beer and swallowing half of it. She closed her eyes and breathed in, trying to push away the thought of straddling him and feeling his hands all over her. She heard his voice again but this time, he seemed closer. Her eyes fluttered open and once again, she stopped breathing. He was close but not close enough to be at arm's reach and for some reason, it disappointed her.

"Are you a moaner?" he asked. Her jaw dropped and it made him laugh a bit. "Sorry, I know we said 'just hanging out' but I couldn't help it."

She stared at him for a few more seconds and finally licked her lips. It would be a lie to say that she didn't want Niall. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she wanted someone so bad. She wanted to give in and have sex with him, but at the same time, she knew that after, she'd regret it. She knew that the desire she felt for him was blinding her and not doing anything with him was the only way she found to keep lust as the predominant feeling inside her. If she didn't quench the fire inside her burning for him, it couldn't turn into love, right? It would always remain simply lust?

On the other hand, how bad could a little teasing be?

"I am." she just answered with a small smile.

"Loud moans or low whimpers?"

"Both. Depends how good you are." she pointed out with a smirk.

"Oh I'm really good."

She chuckled and his lips curled into a smile too. There was something about him that was so hard to ignore or push away and she had no idea how she was going to resist again.

"Still remains to be proven." she let out, tilting her chin up.

"I'm ready to prove it any time you want."

Slowly, she turned around and sat to face him, noticing that his eyes never left her. Why did she like it so much? She wanted his attention more than she could admit and she licked her lips again, raising her eyebrows up.

"Tell me what you'd do to me, perhaps it will make me want it bad enough."

His smile turned into a surprised one and he squirmed on his seat, turning a bit to face her too. His eyes roamed on her face and she pressed her lips together, trying to stop the erratic beating of her heart in her chest. Instead to start talking, though, he moved closer and this time, he was so close she could feel the heat from his body emanate against hers.

"I'd brush my lips here." he let out, running the tip of his fingers on her jaw before moving it slowly down her neck. "Then down here, slowly, before getting back to your mouth and suck on your lip." His finger stopped on her bottom one as he mouth opened slightly.

"That's a lie." she whispered, making him raise his eyebrows. "Every time we kissed our mouths crashed so hard against each other's that my lips remained swollen for 15 minutes after we were done. Don't pretend that us having sex for the first time would be slow and passionate. It would be hard and dirty."

This time, he boomed with laughter and she tilted her head with a bigger smile.

"Okay, I give you that, we've both been pretty impatient. But I could take my time, you know. Make you enjoy every kiss, run my fingers on your whole body, make you feel every inch of my cock inside you."

Her whole body throbbed before the sensation focused between her legs. He brought two fingers under her chin and made her look up in his eyes. It's only when his lips touched hers that she moved back and smiled. It had taken her a lot of self-control to do that but she didn't mention it.

"Keep talking." she just said, her eyes dropping to his lips for half a second before looking up in his eyes.

He chuckled low. "How about you tell me what you'd do?"

It took her a few seconds to answer and she breathed in, licking her lips and pressing them together for a while. Could she really do that?

"I'd straddle you. Quickly. And kiss you hard while I'd rub myself on you, just to feel your cock. I'd slip my fingers in your hair and pull on it. Slide my other hand under your shirt. I'd moan in your mouth until I'd feel you rock hard between my legs."

"And how long do you think that would be?" he asked in a very low tone, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know, you tell me." she smirked.

"Like, 10 seconds." He chuckled and she tilted her head as he kept going. "I'd slip my hand in your pants and panties. Bet that rubbing on me would make you very wet. Wet enough for my fingers to slip inside you easily. I'd love to see you fuck yourself on my fingers."

Her lips parted again and her nails scratched on the couch, making him glance down at her hand. A small smirk played on his lips and he moved closer again.

"You'd moan loud, and I'd make sure my thumb rubs on your clit while you fuck yourself knuckles deep. I'd run my mouth on your tits until you'd shake over me and cum all over my fingers and drip on my thighs." he added in a whisper. "I probably couldn't resist longer and I'd just grab your waist and sit you on my cock. Can't stop thinking about how that would feel."

This time, she was literally gripping the couch so hard that her knuckle were red and he chuckled.

"That whole conversation made you horny, didn't it?"

"Shut up, you know it did." she let out with a smile.

"Made me fucking horny too." he admitted in a whisper.

His eyes roamed on her and they remained silent for a while. They wanted each other, there was no doubt about it, but Niall thought about the text message she had received at the grocery store and his smirk turned into a sad smile.

"I think you should go with Louis this weekend."

She frowned as her heart skipped a beat. Did Niall blatantly tell her that he didn't want her at all? Did he just ask her to go spend the weekend with an other man as if he didn't give a fuck about what she did? And why did it bother her so much anyway? After all, she didn't want a relationship, right? Niall was giving her exactly what she wanted and somehow, it made her feel like shit. She had tried to stop herself from feeling things for him, things that weren't related to sex, but with this simple proposition, she knew she had failed miserably. Maybe it was true. Maybe she wanted Niall to fight for her. Maybe she wanted him to prove to her that she'd be happy with him and that he could love her the way she needed to be. Not as a second choice, not to fill a void... She wanted him to prove to her that he could love her because of who she was, and that he wouldn't leave with her best friend when things would get complicated.

"You... want me to.." she shook her head. "I don't get it."

Niall sighed and rubbed his eyes, a bit pissed at himself for ruining the moment, but he knew he had to say something. He didn't know if she was confused but he certainly was. Of course, they were just 'hanging out' but there was lust between them, too. Some sort of crazy craving that you don't get that often when you're sober. The kind of desire that doesn't seem to leave with time but instead, seems to grow more intensely. There was also something else, something he hadn't even dared to scratch the surface of in fear of what it could be.

"He likes you, doesn't he? Or maybe even loves you?" he asked, waiting for an answer that didn't come. "You don't seem really sure how you feel for him so maybe going there will help you figure it out. And... if you think about me while you're with him, maybe you'll just accept to go on a date with me when you come back."

Her traits softened and her lips parted. Clearly, it was not the answer she had expected.

"You don't need to do all that just to have sex with me, you know?"

"Do all... what?" he asked, frowning as she shrugged.

"Pretend that you want to get to know me, that you want to hang out, be friends, and bring me on a date." she explained. "It won't change anything. It's not that I don't want to have sex with you... I really do, it's just..." she sighed and looked away before closing her eyes.

"Okay first off, I'm not lying. If I just wanted to have sex with you, you know what i'd say? I'd either tell you that you can fuck us both and call me whenever you'd want to ride this." he let out, grabbing his cock and making the left corner of her lips raise slightly. "Or I'd ask you to let me fuck you so you can compare it with the way he fucks and pick after. I wouldn't go through the whole date and flirt and hanging out process."

They both went quiet for about a minute and she finally licked her lips trying to process what he had said.

"Wait, are you saying that you like me?"

This time, he sent her an amused smile. "Yea, that was way too many words to say exactly that. I don't know if you like me too, but I know you're reluctant. I don't know why but I'm thinking it may be because of Louis? So go with him. See how it goes, find out how you feel for him and then, i don't know, Liv, just let me know?"

She moved closer to him, taking him by surprise, and pressed her lips against his. Her eyes were closed and he decided to close his too before she moved a bit closer, holding herself on his thigh with both hands. The warmth of her skin against him, even through his pants,  seemed to burn and he pulled away to look at her. Her eyes fluttered open and her lips curled.

"That sounds like a plan, then." she finally said, tilting her head. "Can I text you through the weekend anyway?"

He laughed and just nodded, glancing at her lips again. "As much as you want."

She wanted to straddle him and kiss him but she was scared that it would just make things even harder for both of them. Would she even be able to pull away? Probably not.

"If I knew I could stop myself, I'd sit on you right now and make out with you." she admitted with a sigh. "But I know I wouldn't be able to pull away."

"It's okay. We've been waiting since we met." he pointed out with a smile. "I'm sure we can resist for a few more days. And if you can't stop thinking about me this weekend then you'll be fixed. My lap will always be yours to sit on."

She chuckled low. "I'll remember that."

"Good. Do you want to finish this movie?"

She stared at him and her eyes fell down on his thighs before moving up to his face. She nibbled on her bottom lip for a few seconds and finally sent him a smile.

"Only if you go back to your side of the couch."

[hirunoka]

Sorry for the long wait, dear @3tothe1​. And I'm also sorry that it's pretty dialogue-heavy, and also short >< But I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I hope you have fun reading this chapter anyway. 💜 

Gold Love by Moreid

CHAPTER 2

"That shouldn't be this hard! He said I could tell him if I needed any help, and I need that toolbox." Kayla reminded herself for the third time.

Everything was almost done in his new home beside the TV unit she needed to assemble.

She has been standing in front of Aaron's door for more than two minutes, one hand is ready to knock, while the other is holding a plate full of cookies.

Finally, she knocked on the door and not even after a minute it was opened.

“Hi, I brought cookies.”

“Heey, neighbor." Aaron beamed at her, trying to fix his hair a little. It looked all messy and soft to touch.  "Do they contain any peanuts?" The doctor asked, looking at the plate. ‘Cause if they do, and I had some, I could realistically die.”

A moment of silence.

“...then you probably shouldn’t touch the ones on the right side, unless you crave death,” Kayla replied, handing over the plate.

“After my fiasco in that morning, I should probably start with the right side,” Aaron joked. “But in my defense, I wasn't fully awake yet. I know Spider-Man, especially fan of that super horrible dance Tobey does. Iconic. I was just lost for a second, I guess."

"Oh, hell no. Don't even go there." She laughed. Six days have passed since they met, and whenever they would come across each other, it would never be just greetings and 'have a good day' with them. Somehow they always found themselves laughing at something together. "And don't worry, it's not a big deal."

"Isn't it really, though? Because I'm pretty sure that your face said the exact opposite." He then pointed the cookies on the left side on the plate. "I assume these are the sweet, non-life-threatening peanut-free chocolate cookies?”

"Okay, okay, you got me." Kayla raised her hands in surrender with a grin. "What can I say? I love Spider-Man. And yeah, safe to eat."

“They look delicious, thanks. I thought I was supposed to bring you something? All the traditional rules say so. “

“Rules are meant to be broken,” Kayla shrugged, “fuck ‘em.”

"A rebel! Nice. Unless you rob banks in your spare time. You need any help with anything? I can grab my panda mask to join you in your illegal adventure real quick.”

"Didn't know you were this willing to root in jails."

"For real, though, you need any help with anything?"

"Actually, yes. Do you happen to have a toolbox? I have this large  TV unit I need to assemble.”

“I can help you to assemble it if you want."

"Well, that would be good, but you really don't have to. I'd hate to bother you."

"Bother me? Never. I'm bored anyway, might as well put my hands to good use."

"If you insist."

"Let me grab my toolbox then."

"Don't forget to take your panda mask with you!" the photographer teased as Aaron disappeared down the hallway.

"I only use it for birthday parties and robbing banks with friends! No can do!" came Aaron's reply.

"Ah, too bad! I was kinda excited to see you in your panda mask. They are my favorite animals."

"I love them, too!"

***

"I must say, your place is really nice," looking around, Aaron said after they stepped into the living room. He whistled when his eyes caught the figure collections Kayla had, looking pretty impressed. The doctor then pointed at the figures: "May I?" he asked enthusiastically, to which she nodded.

"Feel free."

Seeing him walking towards her showcases reminded her of a kid in a candy store.

It was cute.

His big, blue eyes sparkled when he realized her Back to the Future figures were standing just like in that iconic movie poster; Marty is wrapped in his classic orange vest and sunglasses, checking his watch while Doc standing behind him.

"Wow, you have a Marty McFly figure?! That's rad. And not just him, but like, you have everything."

"You love Back to the Future, I see." Kayla smiled, leaning against the wall as he looked at the figures in admiration.

"Who doesn't? I love Star Wars as well, an excellent collection you got here. If one day you wake up to an empty showcase, it's not gonna be me. Just saying."

She shook her head with a laugh, "Now I’m happy that I don’t have a MJ figure yet, I would hate to see it gone. And thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Your place will be the first one I'll check if I ever wake up and find my collection long gone."

Aaron frowned at that a bit, "I just told you not to do that, you got it all wrong. I've always wanted a Delorean, by the way. I mean, not any Delorean, but," he pointed at the Delorean figure with his head, "a time machine. Then I could go back in time, and... nevermind."

"Girlfriend drama?"

"Oh, no. Not something as serious as that."

'He sounds like a kind of man who takes love seriously,' was Kayla's first thought when he said that. And her second thought was: 'I hope it's not girlfriend drama. God, please don't let it be girlfriend drama.'

"And I don't have one. A girlfriend, I mean."

YES.

Thank God.

"Well, that makes two of us." Kayla shrugged, "I don't have a girlfriend either. "

"Good to know." Aaron smiled at her, "How about a boyfriend?"

"Why? Are you offering?" She joked.

"With a collection like this? Hell, you can even expect a marriage proposal from me," he chuckled. "You didn't answer my question, though."

Not expecting a joke like this, Kayla laughed. "Wait until you see my DVD and record collection then. Eh, I had, now I don't."

"...you have a record collection?"

"Please don't look at me like that, it's old-school, I know, but I really love the-"

"No, no, no, I'm not judging you. I have a record collection, too. My friends love teasing me because of it. 'We're living in the twenty-first century, man! You are wasting your money for nothing, just download the damn song!' " He shook his head with a roll of his eyes, "They don't get it."

"Lucky for you, your neighbor does. That's mean of them. They shouldn't make fun of something you like."

"They mean no harm, but you're right. Do I make fun of Ryan's banana sticker collection, or Emeline stuffed cows collection that she has been collecting over seven years? Or Scott's pizza box collection? No, I don't."

Was he even serious?

Okay, his expression was pretty serious.

'Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh,' Kayla warned herself, just after saying people shouldn't make fun of each other, she couldn't laugh at that.

But after a while, Aaron was the one who let out a laugh, not looking serious any longer.

"Oh God, you should've seen your face."

"Wait, did you just- That was mean! Do they even exist? Emily and Scott?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. Well, yeah. They do exist. Somewhere. That '15 Things You Won't Believe People Collect' article I've read says so, at least."

"I can't believe I fell for it."

"Anyway, let's get to work, and I can tell you about the rest meanwhile."

"I'm not sure if I wanna hear it."

Aaron shot him a look saying 'Are you sure?'

"...okay, I kinda wonder," she admitted, "shoot."

***

"Dwight is my favorite after Jim," Aaron said.

After finishing assembling the TV Unit, they had found themselves watching The Office somehow.  Probably because it was on TV, and because apparently, Aaron loved it, too. "I can't believe you have seen the show for more than six times."

What happened next was one of the weirdest things ever happened. Because her cat Milo walked into the room and didn't even run away when he saw Aaron. What he did instead was going next to Aaron and playfully nuzzling him with his head.

"Hi there, beautiful." the doctor smiled lovingly and picked up the cat and placed him in his lap, petting it carefully and slowly so as not to agitate it. His movements were slow and gentle.

"Look what you got here! What's your name, little buddy? Where have you been hiding all this time?" He petted his head and under his chin, and then slowly got the rhythm of it as he scratched behind his ear, making the cat purr. Aaron couldn't help but giggle at the cute behavior.

"I hope you don't really expect an answer from him."

"It would be so awesome if he could answer, but since he won't do that anytime soon, what's his name?"

"Milo."

"A cute name for a cute- wait, why are you looking at me like this?"

"If you were me, you would look at me like that, too. Believe me."

"Why is that?"

"Normally he doesn't even go near to anyone but me, let alone letting them pet him in their lap."

"Aww, I must be special then."

'Maybe you are,' Kayla thought. It wasn't long until Milo was asleep.

"Oh, I didn't realize how late it was. I should probably go now, but you will have to take Milo from me yourself because I don't have the heart to disturb him. I just can't. Look at him! How can I?"

"How about we don't disturb him for twenty-two minutes and watch one more episode?" She offered, "Stress Relief is the next after this. It’s my favorite episode."

"Wow. You really do know the name of every episode. Impressing. Mine is Dinner Party."

“Good one. So? What do you say?”

“I say, you’re right.” Aaron nodded, smiling down at the sleeping cat. “Let’s not disturb him.”

[the-mykie-show]

Leather and Lace (part 3)

Before the apocalypse Negan was your favorite teacher who you also had a massive crush on, the two of you are reunited in Alexandria and you discover that the fire between you is far from extinguished.

Requests are open

*rating* explicit.

*warnings* graphic descriptions of sex, graphic descriptions of violence.

You pack your belongings into the back seat of Negan's Charger in your driveway, it takes two trips even with the Saviors helping while Negan stood by giving the Alexandrians a glare that said “say it and die” having morphed back into ruthless leader mode, his eyes becoming steely and cold, and his demeanor at attention and intimidating, with Lucille on his shoulder serving as a constant threat. He looks like a different man to the one you were just with inside the privacy of your house.

You could tell that Rick and the Alexandrians had something to say about your decision to leave with Negan, and they more than likely knew you'd slept with him. They must hate you now.

You're placing the last box in the back seat when you see a familiar face cutting through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to gawk at you, it's your ex boyfriend's sister, you didn't know her well but you knew her nonetheless.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” she asks. At first you're worried she thinks Negan is forcing you to go with him, and you don't notice the anger in her eyes before you reassure her.

“Nothing I don't want,” you whisper to her, making sure the rest of the crowd doesn't hear.

“Oh I know, you're just a whore.” you look at her taken aback “How could you sleep with him? How could you do that to my brother? Your community? He killed our friends. What the fuck is wrong with you?” you're too shocked to respond, and even more shocked when she cocks her arm back and slaps you across the face.

You almost fall over, and after everything happens so fast, several Saviors are grabbing her and throwing her to the ground, Negan's hand is on your shoulder helping you to stand up straight.

“What the fuck, Rick?!” Negan yells “This is some unacceptable shit.” you know he's about to kill someone if you don't stop him.

“No, no Negan, it's fine.” you stand up, gingerly touching your cheek where it violently stings. “you don't have to punish anyone, let's just go.” your fingers come away bloody, she must've scratched you deep enough to break the skin.

“It sure as fuck is not fine, sweetheart.” you reach out to lay a hand on his arm, pleading him with your eyes “But ya know what, Rick? I'll let this one slide with a warning for her. But if your people ever lay a hand on my people again there will be consequences. Got it?” Rick nods and the Saviors let your attacker get up, roughly shoving her back towards her house.

You get in Negan's car without even saying goodbye to anyone. You're not wanted here anymore and you'd made your choice. You pull down the visor and check yourself in the mirror, your cheek is bruised, and deep scratch runs across your cheekbone. It's nothing you can't handle, you've had way worse injuries and taken way harder hits, it's what the minor wound stands for that makes you feel sick to your stomach. Negan joins you after a while, sitting Lucille on the console between you, and sliding the key in the ignition.

Negan's hand grips your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts. “You okay, baby?” you can tell he's worried that you're having second thoughts and what he's going to do if you are, considering the fact your community probably wouldn't take you back.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

He doesn't need you to tell him about what. “I know this wasn't an easy decision for you to make, but I'm glad you made it. You'll be happy at the Sanctuary, I'll take care of you.” he reassures you.

“I know you will.” you smile.

“Good. Now what do you say we go home?” you nod.

The three hour ride back to the Sanctuary is quiet, Negan focusing on the road and you getting lost in your thoughts you both lapse into a comfortable silence until you see a looming factory building aporching on the horizon, the gates abnored with two imposing statues of angels, the once shining white paint is cracked, you can't help but cringe when you notice that the statues are draped with decomposing human hands on chains. You knew Negan enforced eye-for-an-eye punishments but you didn't realize it was that biblical.

He sees you eyeballing the statues as you drive passed them “it's just a scare tactic, honey, keeps the riff raff out, most are hands from the dead ones.” he reassures you.

“And the ones that aren't?” you're almost afraid to ask.

“Men who put their hands where they shouldn't have been. Some stole medicine, medicine that others needed too, risked lives out of selfishness and laziness. Some hit their wives or girlfriends, which is something I absolutely do not stand for. If they can't keep their hands off their woman they just don't deserve to have hands anymore.” he explained, it isn't as bad as you feared it would be. Brutal, yes, but it was violence with a purpose, and that purpose was protecting his people.

Several men push aside chain link gates, letting the convoy pull through into a dusty yard, bordered by more chain link fence with rows of the dead chained to them, you would assume it's another scare tactic to “keep the riff raff out” as Negan put it.

Negan gestures to a couple of the Saviors “Take her bags to my room, and unload the rest of this shit as usual. I'm gonna show our new guest around a little bit.” he throws an arm around your waist and leads you towards the stairs leading up a set of double doors. Negan shoves them open and stepped out onto a platform overlooking the factory floor with his signature whistle.

Bellow you on the factory floor a market place has been set up, small wooden booths sell clothes, toiletries, food, there's even a pharmacy, and someone selling homemade potato chips. The moment everyone sees Negan they drop to their knee, as if they're kneeling in reverence of him. You glance from him to the kneeling crowd.

“Pretty awesome huh?” he says with a smirk “They respect the shit outta me, and they'll respect you too.” his hand strokes down your back “As you were.” he shouts and the crowd rises to their feet and go back to their jobs.

“Everyone here has a job, they earn points with that job, it works as a currency, and they buy what they need to live. Food, meds, luxury items, the works. You don't have to worry about points though.” he explained as you walk with him through the makeshift marketplace.

“Why not?” you ask, your brow furrowing.

“Because you made the exempt list darlin’ reserved only for my Saviors, my top workers, and any special ladies in my life.” part of you feels a pang of jealousy at the plural, but Negan was clearly a man with an appetite and it wasn't like the two of you were exactly official… Or even in a traditional relationship for that matter.

“So my job is what? Fucking you?” you ask.

“Yes and no. You can most certainly choose that to be your one and only job if it's what you want and you won't catch me complaining. But if it's not you can help out in other areas too.” you can tell the workers are already a little afraid of you, and you shoot a reassuring smile at an older lady selling baby items.

“I think you already know what my answer is.” you reply, making Negan chuckle but nod, agreeing to find you a more useful job then having sex with him.

Negan shows you the marketplace, the dining hall, the rec rooms where they actually have tvs that play old DVDs and VHS tapes, video games, and a small collection of communal CDs, and one room that actually serves as a working bar. There's also an infirmary, and a makeshift school for the kids.

Negan's room is on the top floor of the Sanctuary, looking at it you wouldn't ever think beyond the mahogany double doors the apocalypse was happening. It's surprisingly clean for a man's bedroom, plush rugs cover the cement floor, the wall of mismatched colored glass windows is covered with black curtains, and several black leather couches and chairs are arranged around a glass coffee table, but the first thing you notice when you walk in is the four poster, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

The bed Negan wastes no time in throwing you down on. You still feel a dull ache between your legs left over from the pounding you took from Negan that morning, but nonetheless the moment you feel his lips against your neck the familiar throb of arousal is back in full force. Negan was damn near insatiable and you loved it.

Laying back against the pillows, you enjoy the feeling of his scuff scratching against your skin, and the soft sucking of his mouth against that sensitive little spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You could get use to this. He pulls your shirt over your head, and somehow managed to unclasp your bra one handed while his other hand slides down to pull the garment off.

He slowly makes his way down to your breasts, sucking and nipping your skin as he goes, sometimes hard enough you're sure it's going to leave a mark, but you don't care. In fact for the first time in your life you like the idea of being marked up, a little reminder that you're his now.

His tongue slowly circles your nipple when he finally reached it. “Goddamn! You taste so fucking good, I'll never get tired of it.” he moans against your overly sensitive bud, and you would never get tired of him tasting you.

Once he's sucked your nipple into a hard peak he moved onto the other. He stands up, helping you out of your jeans before stripping off his own shirt. You stay laying back, leaning on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him to lift your legs onto his shoulders and bury his face between your legs. You know that's what he wants. But instead Negan flops down on his back next to you.

“Sit up, babygirl. I wanna try something.” you give him a curious look but do as he says, sitting up on your knees. He pulls you so that you're straddling him. “You ever had a guy eat you out like this?” he asked, and it dawns on you that he wants you to sit on his face.

“No.” you admit, and for the first time since your reunion with Negan you actually feel the age difference, he's a lot more experienced than you are. It's a little awkward, but oddly a turn on at the same time.

“Well then come on.” he pulls you further up his body so you're hovering just over his face, you feel so exposed and vulnerable to him even though you're technically the one in control.

“Negan, wait. Isn't this gonna like… Suffocate you?” you feel your face get hot at the question.

He laughs “I mean we all die sometime or another and literally drowning in pussy seems like a damn good way to go out.” you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“I'm just giving you shit, sweetheart. It'll be fine, you'll like it,trust me.” you finally relent, nodding and straddling his face. Negan looks like a kid in a candy store as you lower yourself down onto his mouth. His tongue eagerly finds your swollen bundle of nerves, lapping up the wetness that had gathered there. It feels different from this angle, more intense. When his tongue circles your entrance and slips inside you it goes deeper than you thought possible, you moan loudly at the sensenation, your hips involuntarily bucking against him.

He gladly let's you thrust yourself against his mouth, licking and sucking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, and lapping up your arsoual. You become more comfortable, gripping the headboard and moving your hips against his mouth, working his tongue right where you want it. His hands grip your hips, helping you thrust.

You never thought you'd enjoy this as much as you are, and judging by the moans coming from him, he's enjoying it almost as much as you are.

Your orgasm builds quickly, and sneaks up on you, it's the most intense orgasm you've ever had from having a man's tongue between your legs.

As soon as you've come down for your high he lays you down on the bed. “See, told you that you'd love it.” he said, shooting you his signature cocky smirk.

“that you did. Now it's my turn.” you crawl over him, your hands undoing his belt. He lifts his hips, helping you yank his pants down to let his erection spring free.

Once his cock is free and in your face you lose some of your bravado, you really aren't that experienced with blow jobs, and you've never given one to a man as well endowed as Negan. You feel like a virginal high school girl all over again, he really had a way of bringing that out of you.

Oh well, too late now, you'd have to try.

Taking a deep breath, you grip him by the base, and slowly trace the vein on the underside of his manhood with your tongue making his hips twitch, and then move to suck on his tip, tasting the slightly bitter precome that had gathered there. A deep moan leaves his lips, his head is thrown back against the pillow, seeing Negan like that gave you a little confidence boost.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you swallow his cock as far into the back of your throat as you can, hollowing your cheeks with a hard suck you fight your gag reflex. Your hand squeezes his balls, forcing a guttural moan out of Negan.

"OH goddammit! that's it baby" he groans and you double your efforts, making your eyes water as you bob your head up and down, letting the swollen head hit the back of your throat each time you take him all the way in.

You feel his hand slip between your legs, long, nimble fingers teasing your over stimulated clit, and dipping inside your core, still wet from your orgasm and his tongue. You moan around his shaft at the feeling of his fingers filling you. He slowly thrusts them in and out a few times, rubbing your g-spot, while you suck teasingly on the head of his manhood, licking the precome away from the slit all the while.

Then you feel the pad of his index finger slide further back from your entrance rubbing against the tight ring of muscle of your ass, you jump in surprise, but don't protest. It feels both strange and good at the same time.

"You okay with this, babygirl?" you nod, still licking at the tip of his cock. He rubs a bit harder, lowering his other hand to tease your clit, he only stops when the pleasure of having your mouth wrapped around his shaft becomes too much, and he finds his release. He gives you fair warning before he blows his load, but you let him come in the back of your throat, sucking him clean and continuing to tease his overstimulated tip with your tongue until he pulls you off.

"That's enough of that baby, now why don't you let daddy see that tight little ass?" hearing him refer to himself as "daddy" does something to you that you never thought it would. He spreads you out on your stomach across his bed, parting your legs to expose your still dripping pussy. He massages your asshole with his middle finger, using your natural lube to work the tip just barely inside you, it feels very foreign and a little uncomfortable.

"You've really never had anything in there huh?" he asks.

"No." you say. You hear him open his nightstand drawer, and tense up at the sound of the cap coming off a bottle of lube.

"I do love a tight little virgin ass. The look on a woman's face first time she feels it being stretched? Oh now that's priceless." You feel a large drop of the cool liquid pool between your asschecks.

"Close your eyes for me, sweetheart." he orders, and you follow. You hear movement and rustling as the lube starts to run down to your pussy. You feel something press against the tight ring of muscle, your eyes shoot open, it slowly slides inside you, making you moan in both pleasure and discomfort. It's not his finger, it's smaller, more round, and feels like…Rubber.

Then you remember your anal beads, the ones you'd never gotten the chance to use before Negan came back into your life.

He presses the next bead inside you, it's a little bigger then the first and you're shocked at how deep inside you the beads feel already. You wonder if he's going to turn on the vibrations.

"You doing okay, babygirl?" he asks.

"Yeah… It just feels weird, but good weird." you admit. He pushes the next bead inside you, it's even bigger and intensifies the stretching feeling.

He keeps going, and the beads keep getting bigger, until you feel so unbelievably full you're not sure you can take anymore when he presses the last bead inside you. Once he's satisfied with his handiwork you feel him spread your ass cheeks to admire it.

"Damn I knew these were going to be useful. That little ass all full for me is fuckin' perfect." his fingers begin exploring your folds again, his other hand begins pumping his manhood.

A load, violent knocking sounds at Negan's bedroom door. "we're kinda busy in here!" he yells.

"We got a problem out here, boss!" a man's voice calls from the other side of the door.

"I don't fucking care, fix it." Negan growls, the anger replacing arousal in his voice.

"Well that's the thing sir… We can't." the man sounds scared, sheepish, he probably knows what he's interpreting you realize with embarrassment.

"You can't? Of course you fucking can't! I'll be right there to wipe your stupid asses for you just give me one second." he groans in frustration, letting his already softening cock slip from his fingers, he begins hunting around the room for his clothes.

" You're leaving? Right now?" you ask, still laying naked in your position on the bed.

"Believe me, I'm no happier about it then you are, sweetheart." he was actually going to leave you like this? Wet and needy with your ass filled with anal beads he'd spent 30 minutes pressing inside you?

"Hey, I'll make it up to you." he reassures you as he puts back on his leather jacket. "In fact why don't I start now. Leave those beads in for me, I won't be too long, there's a few ground rules though." he picks up Lucille and swings the bat to its place on his shoulder. "you don't turn the beads on, and you don't make yourself come, but I am gonna have to ask you to keep that little pussy nice and wet for daddy, so you just slip a finger in there every once in awhile, tickle your clit a little bit, just enough to keep it real hard and swollen. Maybe walk around a little, get that virgin ass use to being full." he laughs.

"And if you're good, I'll turn those beads on when I get back." you whimper in frustration when he slams the door, leaving you to wonder if possible women could get blue balls?

*Author's note* remember to follow me on AO3 under The_mykie_show if you want to actually be notified when I post and see fics at least a day before they're published on this hell site.

[ducklingdraws]

My Idea for a Scooby-Doo! Reboot

So a while back, after noticing that Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated was on Spectrum On Demand, I decided, "Hey, I'm gonna rewatch this show." I don't know why I did it, because I rarely ever rewatch shows. I'll watch reruns, but never have I actually decided to rewatch a television series. But, I did it for Scooby-Doo.

And frankly, I had forgotten how good the show was. It's honestly really dark, while also being absolutely hilarious; and in its humor, the show actually does really unique things with the Scooby-Doo gang, with the biggest example being this show's version of Fred Jones. It's wild. But in my opinion, the thing that really makes this show what it is...

...is its story. I feel like the story and characters are fuel for this show in a way that feels different from other shows, somehow. I don't really get it, but that's the way I see it.

So, seeing as there's all these serialized cartoon series nowadays, and Scooby-Doo is always getting rebooted in one way or another, I figured... what if I rebooted Scooby? If I had the opportunity to reboot Scooby-Doo and the only Warner Bros requirement was "just make it," what would I do with it?

Without further ado, this is To the Future, Scooby-Doo!

First up: The Premise

To kick things off, I'll discuss how the show is set up. This version of Scooby-Doo is set in the future. Technology has become more holographic and stuff like in the movies, but fashion hasn't evolved to be nothing but latex bodysuits yet. Flying cars are real but not very widely used, and clothes can tell the time.

On the biological side of things, prosthetics are holographic as well, and incredibly easy to attach. It's almost like having your original limb. Food is healthier while also being more environmentally friendly, and animals have been genetically modified for a very long time. They have been allowed to mate, which has eventually lead to many domesticated animals being able to speak!

The main setting is a large port town known as Port Intrigue, where all sorts of goods are traded, and many people lead peaceful lives. It's a nice place, and a lot of the economy is structured around it. There are other important trade cities like it, but Port Intrigue may be the most powerful.

It's also probably the weirdest, because in true Scooby-Doo fashion, no one can just "be a criminal." Heck no! Where's the fun in that?? If you're gonna try and get money through illegal fear tactics, you've gotta do it in style!!

And for some reason or another, the police get a little help with solving a lot of the more, uh... colorful mysteries. Help from a group of kids attending Intrigue High...

Next up: The Scooby Gang!

So here's the big part! All of my redesigns of the classic gang! Let's kick it off with:

FRED JONES

So this version of Fred is definitely toned back from various recent versions of Scooby-Doo, particularly the DVD movies and Mystery Incorporated. He's a lot more laid back, and has a sort of "cool guy" persona.

One day a long time ago, his parents, 2 great scientists, didn't pick him up from school, and apparently they mysteriously disappeared. So since then he's been living with Shaggy. At Intrigue High, he is in the theater program as a Tech, so he's good with pulleys and ropes and other various behind-the-scenes theater things, which makes him really good at making weird Rube Goldbergs - and traps, whenever the need arises. But when would Fred ever need to build a trap?

NORVILLE "SHAGGY" ROGERS

...Y'all can excuse the scribbles in the lower corner, right?

Anyway, this version of Shaggy is just as uptight as he always is, but instead of that only being attributed to mystery solving and creepy ghoulies, it's evolved into some much, much greater!!!

He's the mom friend now.

Y'know, telling everyone to watch their eating habits and be careful of opening soda cans because so help me if you scratch yourself...!

Long time ago he lost his arm so now he has one of those cool prosthetics. The trauma of losing it though has made him extra cautious, and a bit of a scaredy cat. Of course, he's willing to do whatever it takes for his friends, just like the Shaggy we all know!

He still likes to eat and is a bit of an amateur chef, participating in the culinary club at Intrigue High.

VELMA DINKLEY

This is my rendition of Velma Dinkley. She's still the smartest one of the group, and good at technology, but is also a boxer! She's not just strong, but also strong willed!

The Dinkley's have a long, long history of scientific endeavors, and Velma's father is a great scientist as well! Though really, it's more of a hobby for him.

Velma lives with her younger sister Madelyn (who some of you might remember from Abracadabra-Doo) and her father, Victor.

This Velma is snarky, yet quirky. She's got a real go-getter mentality, which everyone can't help but to respect.

DAPHNE BLAKE

Daphne Blake is a bit of a softie. She was never very forward with making friends, but developed a clique of her own with Fred, Shaggy, Scooby and Velma.

Her house used to be the gang's main hang out spot, but after the kids moved on to high school, they haven't been over to her house at all.

Daphne likes to draw, and really wants to be a fashion designer. In fact, she's a part of Intrigue High's costume design team for the theater program!

SCOOBY-DOO

Scooby-Doo has been part of the Rogers family ever since he was a puppy, and Shaggy was a little kid. The two have been basically inseparable their whole lives, with Scooby even attending school with everyone else.

He likes belly rubs, scratches behind the ear, and food. So in other words, he's the same Scooby we all know and love! Still fearful, but dedicated to his friends, including...

MEASLES

Shaggy and Scooby may have been buds since they were little kids, but before Shaggy, Scooby had Measles.

Since they're both GMO animals, they both have the ability to speak human language, which they would use to try and get food. Eventually, Measles was able to get Scooby into a good home with the Rogers family. Unfortunately, Mr and Mrs Rogers couldn't afford to take care of Shaggy, Fred, a dog, and a cat, but Measles promised to visit Scooby whenever she could, or that they'd at least see each other around. And she's kept that promise! Even to this day, the gang will sometimes find her in random locations, like... the Theater Program's costume box?

Measles has a lackadaisical, yet somewhat snarky personality, but definitely cares for her friends. It just may take a while to show it.

Last up: Everything Else

Uh, hm. I guess this is the generalization of the show.

Well, it's a giant celebration of Scooby-Doo. The gang wears different outfits, rarely wearing the same one in consecutive episodes. And each outfit would be pulled from a previous Scooby series (yes, including *shivers*... Get a Clue).

Also, other characters from previous series and Scooby media are not only in the show, but play decently sized rolls. For example, I already mentioned Madelyn Dinkley, but there's also Red Herring from A Pup Named Scooby-Doo, or Mayor Nettles and Sherriff Bronson Stone from Mystery Incorporated (they're married from the start this time!). Even the dreaded Scrappy Doo makes his return at (what I imagine to be) the start of Season 2, hopefully to redeem himself and not be relegated to a tired joke about "lol Scrappee sux XD"

Flim-Flam is back too, but is rebranded as Frida McScam, the fast talking troublemaking free spirited girl who takes everybody's crap and spins it in her favor (and also might be psychic).

Scooby's family tree is mentioned, and his parents even have a major role in Season 1.

Just a whole lot of Scooby-Doo trivia and stuff. Stuff that I imagine the people working on the show would be way, way better at remembering and putting to use than I am!

As for the overarching plot?

Well, what futuristic setting would be complete without aliens? I imagine the aliens would be a race of owl creatures known as the Willawaw (another Scooby reference because I hope this show is FULL OF THEM). Basically, these aliens are the bad guys, both in the show proper, and in a lot of the show's backstory. They're like myth villains, or greater scope villains, or something.

I was even thinking like, when the gang ends up running, rather than using a recyclable run cycle from a side view, everyone could have brand new running animations, like to distinguish them all as unique. Although I guess that's what the running cycles were... but the chase scenes are a lot like Mystery Inc, where they were a lot more action packed. It could be great! And of course, everyone would use the classic running style at some point throughout the show, because that seems to be tradition for Scooby-Doo.

This was a really big post! But if you read all of it, thanks a million! I hope you liked the small amount of art within, or just the idea in general! Maybe I'll even draw my reimagined takes on the other characters some day. But for now, I'll leave at this.

[this-is-freeridge]

The Air Between Us

Chapter Fourteen: Mari prepares herself to take the next step with Trey.

Warning: this fic deals with dark themes, including but not limited to teen pregnancy, rape, drug abuse, murder, abortion, underage drinking and underage sex. Read at your own risk.

Find all other chapters here.

Find the better version here!

“That’s not a very scary costume,” Trey said as he picked Mari up from her house, a smile playing on his lips. “You look beautiful, though,”

Mari looked down at her makeshift costume. With Halloween as an excuse, she wore the dress that Abuelita had made her for her birthday - it was gorgeous, and it made her feel gorgeous too. It wasn’t every day she had that feeling.

She had paired the dress with a tall silver tiara, a bouquet of plastic roses and a sash (which was actually one of those bride-to-be ones that she had turned inside-out) that she had written MISS UNIVERSE on in black sharpie.

“Why thank you,” she said with a curtsy and then looked him up and down. He wore a black and white striped suit with a black button-up, his hair looked like he had stuck his hand in an electrical socket and he had black circles painted messily around his eyes. “You look...sleep-deprived,”

“Oh come on, Beetlejuice is a classic!” He said with so much enthusiasm that Mari almost got excited with him. Almost, but feelings like happiness and excitement and enthusiasm were hard to come by lately.

Her trip to the hospital hadn’t helped much. Latisha was great; she was kind and gentle and did everything she could to make Mari feel comfortable, but she still couldn’t bring herself to smile.

Trey and Ruben had been there the whole time, so she should have felt supported, yet she had still felt alone.

Jamal had been ecstatic when Mari had bought him home a real hospital gown for his costume, but as much as she forced a smile for him, she still couldn’t feel the excitement.

Her blood test results would be back in a few days, and they said they weren’t expecting to find anything unusual, but she was still terrified.

But she wouldn’t tell anyone that, they would only worry and it wasn’t worth it. She would be fine, she reminded herself, she was just being melodramatic.

“Wouldn’t know, haven’t seen it,” Mari shrugged as they walked to Trey’s front door.

“What?” he gasped, feigning shock as he fumbled for his keys

As she waited, Mari took in Trey’s house. It was the first time she’d seen it, but the rundown shack before her was the last place she had expected Trey to live. Smaller than the Martinez house and in worse condition than Oscar’s.

Unlocking the door and throwing it open, Trey gestured inside with a sort of after you motion. When Mari stepped past the threshold, the first thing she noticed was a lack of furniture.

Against the far wall of the living room (that doubled as the entrance to the house, and connected straight to a small kitchen with no dining area) there was a small sofa with fabric tearing at the seams and foam popping out at the corners. There was an old, chunky flatscreen sitting atop a cubed-bookshelf that’d been turned on its side to double as a TV stand. Between the TV and the sofa sat a worn coffee table; the varnish on the wood had started peeling and one of the legs was being held together by duct tape.

This house was not the kind of place that a man in finance and a woman in events lived.

But Mari knew better than to say anything just yet. Instead, she smiled politely and let him usher her inside. As she stepped over the threshold, she remembered the first time she had walked into Spooky’s bedroom. It had been intimate, like he was showing her something that only she could see, it was exciting and scary all at the same time.

Walking into Trey’s house was nothing like that. It was scary, but only because it was unfamiliar. The walls were cold and the room was dark and mostly empty and nothing was familiar. Nothing felt safe. The moment she stepped inside she was on edge; her skin crawled and her mind screamed.

Telling herself that it was just her anxiety, reminding herself not to be so dramatic, she set herself down on the sofa. She fidgeted with the cushions on the couch, fidgeted with her dress and her sash. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying everything she could to be comfortable, but no matter what she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“We only have generic brand soda and popcorn,” Trey said as he rushed to the kitchen, putting the popcorn in the microwave and getting two cans labelled Cola from the fridge. “They’re still pretty good, though,”

Mari took the soda with a thank you and set it down on the coffee table, frowning. Even the Martinezes could afford better stuff, and they weren’t exactly rolling in spare change.

“Trey,” Mari called, straightening up as Trey placed Friday the 13th in the DVD player - just another thing that made Mari question how much money his family could really have. “What is your family really doing in Brentwood?”

“Uh...” he scratched at the back of his neck and averted his gaze. The microwave beeped and he breathed a sigh of relief and bolted to the kitchen with a “popcorn’s ready.”

But Mari was persistent and stubborn and he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily. So she waited patiently on the sofa, arms crossed casually as the movie played in the background.

“What’s going on?” She asked the moment he stepped back into sight. Trey almost dropped the bowl of popcorn as he jumped at her voice, but tried to quickly compose himself.

“What do you mean?” He asked, placing the bowl down on the table and then settling down on the couch beside her. It was a little cramped, Mari had to shuffle her legs onto his lap just for the both of them to fit. One hand rested on her thigh, the other was thrown around her shoulder. Mari tried to lean into him, to feel those same sparks she felt when Oscar touched her this way, so pure but so intimate, but there was nothing.

“I mean I feel like I don’t know anything about you. You’ve seen me pass out and go to the hospital, you’ve met my family, and all I know about you is that your dad is in finance, you mom is in events and you moved here from Brentwood. But, Trey, is that even the truth? Because you haven’t said why you moved, to Freeridge, of all places, if your family has so much money?”

He averted her gaze, just for a second, and squeezed her thigh a little as though he needed a moment to build up the courage to speak again.

“It wasn’t really a...lie, you know?” He started, looking up at her like a kicked puppy, “I mean my dad does work in finance, but he left me and my mom a couple of months ago. He got some big promotion that meant he had to move to Seattle. At first, he was gonna just take the commute, y’know? He got an apartment there so he could stay during the week and come home on weekends, but he uh, he liked the bachelor life. So he just stopped coming home, sent a lawyer to the house to serve mom the divorce papers and tell us that we had forty-eight hours to clear out of the house before it was put on the market,”

“So he just left you both with nothing? What about your mom, didn’t she have a job?”

There was a bitter edge to the way Trey laughed in response. “She was a suburban housewife with a rich husband, she never had to work. We were always taken care of, and then we weren’t. One of her old college friends hooked her up with this catering job, that’s where she is now, and this house was the only place we could afford. I got a job to help out, try and save up until we can move somewhere better,”

Mari’s heart hammered in her chest. This boy before her was nothing like the bumbling-but-loveable idiot she knew. Where he was usually bubbly and excitable, he was now solemn and serious. She realised now that had been through things too, and he was working harder than she had known to make things work. Maybe they had more in common than she had thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” She whispered, searching his face for an answer.

He flashed her a weak smile as he met her gaze. “I’ve seen you with that other guy, I know I’m not very tough, or cool. I’m not a bad boy, I can’t compete with a guy in a gang, but I had to impress you somehow,”

A slow smile spread across Mari’s face at his confession. She hadn’t realised he’d tried so hard for her to notice him. Sitting up on her knees and shuffling closer to him, she decided that it was kind of endearing.

“And you thought that pretending you had money was the way to do that?”

Trey visibly gulped as she moved closer, so close he could smell her cherry lipgloss. “Um, yeah, I- I thought you’d like me more if you thought I could buy you nice things,”

Mari shook her head, dark curls falling over her shoulders.

“I like this better,” she said with a smile, “I like knowing you’re real, like the rest of us,”

Trey smiled back, his hand coming up to cup her face before sliding around to the nape of her neck. Her heart hammered, faster and faster until it hurt. This was the moment, she thought. They were alone and he was opening up and if this were a movie, this would be the moment.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, she knew that much. He had been sweet and patient and he deserved it. And she liked him enough. Truly, she did. The only thing she didn’t know was why it felt like this; why her chest was tight and her hands were shaking and why she wanted to run away screaming.

It shouldn’t feel like this. It never did with Oscar.

He isn’t Oscar, she told hers. This was Trey and he was her boyfriend and this was inevitable.

It was inevitable.

So she leaned into him and kissed him, trying not to pull away when he kissed her back. It was messy and unpracticed, whether that was because Trey had never kissed someone like this before - so intense and passionate - or because Mari had never kissed him like this, she didn’t know. His tongue slid over her lower lip but he didn’t taste like Corona and cigars.

His free hand gripped at her hips and pulled her closer and closer until she was almost on his lap. He kissed her like he was trying to devour her, gripping her so tightly as though she’d disappear otherwise.

The touch of his skin didn’t make hers burn, but instead made it crawl. Deep in the pit of her stomach, where there should be excitement and desire, there was only fear and a strange, twisted feeling. She felt sick.

That feeling of discomfort that sat in her chest, that’d been there since they arrived, grew until it was about to burst. Tears sprung to her eyes, so she squeezed them shut to keep them from falling and jumped away from the boy beneath her.

“I can’t do this,” she muttered between gasps of breath, “I’m sorry, I’ll call you tomorrow. I have to go,”

Trey didn’t have a chance to chase after her as she grabbed her shoes and her plastic roses and raced out the door. She was halfway down the street by the time he had picked his jaw up off the floor and peeled himself off the couch.

The warm October air whipped against her face, her hair sticking to her tears as she walked. Harsh sobs racked her small body and she shook with every step. Her mind was racing; she had no idea why she had felt like that with him. She had been with Oscar before, why was it so hard with Trey? Wasn’t she over her irrational fear of intimacy?

She dreaded the thought of calling him the next day, but she knew she would have to. This date had been planned, she had known his parents would be gone, she knew the expectation. She knew what she was getting herself into, so why did she feel so panicked during the moment?

“Mariana?” An angry but familiar voice called. With a groan, she wiped desperately at her face but kept walking. Embarrassed and anxious, the last thing she wanted to do was tell Spooky what’d happened. She sped up when she heard Oscar tell the others to go in without him and then the sound of footsteps crossing the road to her.

“Hey, mami!” He called, closer this time. When she didn’t reply a rough hand grabbed at her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“What?!” She snapped, though her voice broke.

The frustration on his face faded away into pure concern and the grip on her arm loosened just a little. She cursed and turned away, wiping frantically at her face as though that’d stop her tears and as though that would make Spooky forget he had seen it.

Why did he always have to see her like this?

Her body shook as a harsh sob ripped through her. The hand on her arm disappeared, just for a second, and then Oscar was wrapping his arms around her.

Head tucked safely under his chin, she let him hold her as she cried out all of her fear and frustration. His arms were thick and warm and he was holding her so firmly that she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to (and she didn’t want to).

“I’m sorry,” Mari whispered, referring to both the state she was in and the way her tears were staining his white tank. “I’m a mess, I-”

“Don’t do that, Mari,” he cut her off, his arms falling from her sides to take her bouquet of roses. “Don’t blame yourself. Come on, it’s not safe for you to be outside on Halloween. Let’s go inside,”

He took her hand and led her across the road and into the house. Letting him manhandle her, Mari didn’t say a thing as he sat her down on the couch, removed her sash and tiara then placed them with the flowers.

He disappeared into the kitchen for just a second and returned with a glass of water.

“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile. Worried she might vomit from her whirlwind of emotions, she took only a small sip before putting it aside.

Spooky took the space on the couch beside her. Before Mari could protest, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her onto his lap, taking her back into his arms. Biting her inner cheek to hold back tears, she leaned into his chest and sighed, relishing in the feeling of his hand running through her dark curls.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He asked, quietly but with a thinly veiled edge to his voice, an edge that told Mari he was pissed. “Because I swear to god, if that kid tried something that you didn’t want, I’m gonna beat his goddamn face in,”

“It’s not...” Mari shook her head, “it wasn’t like that. We were kissing and I just freaked out. It was me. There’s something wrong with me, Oscar. Trey, he…he was touching me and I wanted to be okay with it but I wasn’t; I felt disgusting and I felt scared and I just kept wishing it was you,”

The fingers threading through her hair paused for a second. Mari shuffled into a sitting position on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips and her dress hiked up to her thighs.

“Whenever someone touches me,” she continues, searching his eyes as though they held all the secrets to her mind, “I want to scream and cry and hide. But not you. I don’t feel like that with you. It’s...kinda the opposite. I always want you to touch me because you make me forget that it could ever be scary. How do you do that?”

He didn’t respond immediately, he couldn’t - somehow, this girl had rendered him speechless. There was so much he wanted to say; that he was sorry she felt like that with Trey but that he wasn’t sorry for how she felt with him, that he felt the same about her, that he was sorry he had tried to avoid it for so long.

But for a spelling-bee champ, Oscar was never very good with his words - not when he had to use them to tell another person how he felt. To admit his feelings would mean he had to let down the walls he had spent so long building, remove the mask he had perfected and though he was sure (as sure as he could be, at least) he was ready to let Mari in, it was hard to begin.

So he didn’t say anything. instead, Oscar let out a growl beneath his breath and without a second thought, he swooped up to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. One hand in her hair and the other hiking her dress further up her hips, he ran his tongue across her lips, tasting cherry and something unfamiliar.

And then he remembered.

Trey had kissed her. Something hot burned deep in the pit of his stomach. His insides twisted and he felt sick. Rage fuelled him as his grip on her tightened and his kisses bruised her lips. He hated that someone else got to do this; to touch her skin, even just to hold her. Oscar wanted that all to himself, he wanted her all to himself.

The cholo would be the first to admit that he wasn’t a very good person; he was aggressive and rash and selfish, and this was no excuse. He knew she had a boyfriend, and that she would probably regret this in the morning, but how could he stop himself when she was right here in his arms and telling him she wants him?

It would be a lie if he were to say he didn’t like being the one to make her smile, to make her feel beautiful and to turn her nightmares into daydreams. He wanted all of her. He wanted Mariana Martinez, mind, body and soul, and he would do whatever he had to do to make sure she knew that.

They had tried this before, no strings attached, but now as she let out a whine and kissed him like it would be the last time, Oscar thought that maybe he wouldn’t mind the strings. It shouldn’t have taken this - Mari running away from someone else in tears and finding comfort with him - to realise it. He couldn’t help but be angry at himself for putting her through this, all because he was too scared to admit his feelings - not to her, or even to himself, but to the world. He was Spooky, after all. He had a reputation; he was tough and scary and dangerous and he was falling for a girl from San Jose who looked like she could break at the slightest touch.

But she was so much stronger than she realised, and she had never been afraid.

Oscar refused to be afraid any longer.

“Oscar, please,” Mari breathed, leaning into him as his hands found their way behind her and then slipped beneath her panties.

“Tell me what you want, mami,” he whispered against her lips and squeezing lightly where his hands rested on her behind.

Mari remembered a time not too long ago when she was standing before this man, begging him to tell her what he wanted. He had refused her pleas and broken her heart but she was in no position to do the same. Oscar was what she wanted, in any way she could have him.

“I want you, Oscar,” she told him, a quiver in her voice as she remembered Trey, somewhere in the back of her mind. Guilt started to eat at her insides; she had a boyfriend and he was at home thinking that he was what she wanted when he couldn’t even compare.

Refocusing on the man before her, she pushed all other thoughts aside and ran her hands up his stomach to his chest, pulling his black wife-beater with her. He lifted his arms, allowing her to remove the clothing and throw it aside.

Peppering kisses across his bare chest, Mari rolled her hips slowly as Oscar let his head fall back and his eyes close in pleasure. Feeling him grow beneath her, she rocked her hips again, harder this time and letting a small moan escape her lips at the friction.

“Fuck, Mariana,” Oscar murmured, grabbing her hips and lifting her slightly. Mari stilled, kneeling above him as he reached between them to loosen his shorts, then lifted his hips just enough to push them down past his knees.

He licked his lips, pushing her panties aside and watching her lower herself onto him.

“You know I love you in that dress, mami,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss and nip at her neck as she adjusted to the feeling.

Oscar let her take the lead as she lifted and lowered her hips, fucking him slowly. She needed to take control of something; of Oscar and her sexuality. Mari needed this, he knew that and he would be damned if he wasn’t enjoying it.

His lips found her collarbone and her chest where her breasts were exposed above the neckline of the dress. He made sure to leave his mark; sucking and biting and licking to soothe the skin. He wanted everyone to know that she was taken.

Mari reached her climax quickly, finishing with a cry of Oscar’s name and burying her head into his broad shoulder. Her hips bucked and her movements became erratic as she rode him to climax. She watched with a smile as he came - it was a rush knowing that she could pull him apart and break him down like this. The effect she seemed to have on him made her feel powerful and confident and beautiful and she never wanted to lose that feeling. She never wanted to lose him.

Suddenly tired, as though the night’s events had only just caught up to her, she collapsed in his arms. He held her close, without a word, not sure exactly what to say first. Does he apologise for how he’s acted? Does he thank her? Does he kiss her again and tell her that he’s ready to give her what she wants?

Spooky never got the chance to make that decision as his phone started to ring.

“Fuck,” he huffed, furious at the interruption. He wanted to ignore it, but he knew better - he was a leader and he had responsibilities.

Clearing her throat, Mari shuffled off of his lap. She pulled her dress down past her hips as Oscar reached for his phone and put it to his ear.

“What?” He snapped. Though his features softened as the person on the other end spoke, Oscar clearly didn’t like what they had to say as he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there soon,”

Mari said nothing as she watched him, her heart sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second.

With a resigned sigh, he picked his clothes up off the floor.

“I gotta go,” he said, pulling his tank over his head and not holding her gaze for too long. “That was Cesar, they’ve got trouble in Brentwood. I’ll pick them up, make sure Ruby’s okay for you,”

Mari offered a small smile and nodded. “Thanks, Oscar,”

How could she be so naive to think things would be different this time? Of course, he had no problem leaving; this was just a quick fuck to him, it always was between them. Spooky didn’t care that she had a boyfriend, he didn’t care that she had just betrayed someone else to be with him, he only cared about getting what he wanted.

He should’ve left her out there on the street.

“Can you stay?” He asked all of a sudden, crossing the room to her and bringing a hand up to cup her face. This wasn’t how he had wanted the night to end, but he didn’t have time to get into everything he wanted to say right now. “Just wait here until I get back?”

Although she nodded, it was a lie - she would be long gone soon after he left.

Taglist: @robinsdolan @lostgirl219@kseniainneverland @ravengreystone@weediskindabad @moistdollerbills @javoqetal@kenzie44469 @goddessate@blackdepressoexpresso @classyputa @babygirl-htx @wonderlandlovelove @cacapoodlepoo @agent-femmefatale @elliesshitofablog@daydreamer0307 @harduy @elizabeth-santana-98 @lonelyyblues

[paganinpurple]

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

Buy Me A Coffee?

AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10

11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

Day 18 – Balconies

Ladybug released her yo-yo string, somersaulting in mid-air before dropping to the concrete below. Her transformation melted away as she landed, Tikki spinning out of her earring with a giggle that was bound to haunt her for a few days.

“Your face is almost the same colour as me!” the little red bug squealed in joy, tiny arms coming up to cover her mouth.

“Tikki! Shh!” Marinette squeaked, mortified, “He’s right behind us. He’ll hear you!” 

If she had thought Chat’s flirting had been the most difficult thing to try coping with before, she had seriously underestimated the rest of the people in her life.

She had even stupidly thought school was going to be a relief from the constant barrage of pick-up lines.

Instead, she had found that school was a daily test of her ability to fight down her traitorous blood supply from flooding her cheeks with colour – as Adrien seemed determined to spend as much time as possible in her company. Alya was merciless in her ribbing about it, keeping it relatively low-key while he was around before completely tormenting her once he disappeared for so much as a second. It also hadn’t helped that in the lead up to their reveal, Marinette had been non-the-wiser to the boy’s sudden burst of interest in being around her – which Alya now thought had all been for show.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t just tell me he was sneaking out to spend the night at your place regularly,” she had said yesterday, “I would’ve happily listened to you scream with joy.” Marinette reddened even further as she remembered how she had been awkwardly balancing Alya’s teasing with keeping Adrien out of earshot without accidentally upsetting him by keeping her distance. A fact Alya was taking great pleasure in exploiting, knowing if she spoke low enough, Marinette wouldn’t be able to retaliate without him realising something was up. “I could’ve even clued you in sooner that he’d started crushing on you.”

Because it made sense to her best friend (and from the knowing looks thrown her way, Nino too) that Adrien would’ve picked the girl he liked when he started acting rebelliously towards his father and snuck out to visit a girl. At night. In her bedroom.

Especially given Adrien’s newfound style of flirting with her – in front of everyone. It was a more reserved form compared to Chat’s usual bravado and she had uncomfortably discovered that it both exhilarated her and turned her insides into jelly. The death glares she received from Chloe and Lila certainly hadn’t helped her to relax either. But then neither had the shrewd glances from her classmates, and other friends around school, whenever Adrien referred to the bakery as home.

And really, why else would the Dupain-Chengs have wanted to foster Adrien instantly after the news of his father’s villainy broke, unless he had already been a constant addition to their lives? There had been no logical way to explain and still hide her status as sleepover friend from anyone who knew them – at least not without creating a hundred difficult questions she couldn’t exactly answer without endangering their own identities.

“I’m pretty certain your parents and Master Fu have already said much worse in front him tonight than I ever could,” Tikki chuckled, bringing Marinette back to the moment. She groaned, hiding her face in her hands at the memories of all the ‘couple’ talk the three adults had used when referring to the two of them.

Her and Adrien had finally found time to fill Master Fu in on the situation completely, including that they now knew each other’s identities, and that their parents were also in on the secret. It had been an uneasy wait for the reporters and police to back off enough that they could move around without fear of being followed, though they had still played things safe and acted as if they were introducing Adrien to a family member, in case anyone noticed.

At Tom and Sabine’s insistence they had arranged a meeting as soon as they thought it was safe for them to get to know each other – and so her parents could ask any questions the kids might have been unable to answer, or not thought to ask. Family movie night had needed to be sacrificed, but Marinette had been sure it would be worth it. At least, until the teasing had started, and she once again found herself wishing she was able to melt through the floor at will.

No shouts of, “Mama!” “Papa!” or “Master!” had made a difference and Marinette had resigned herself to a fate of death by humiliation as Master Fu had gotten around to explaining that he had tried to pair up two young souls who he thought were “made for each other.” She had absolutely refused to look Adrien in the eyes during that part, but she still managed to catch his shy, embarrassed smile in her peripheral vision when Tom had reached over to muss his hair right after.

There was a muffled thump on the balcony behind her, indicating Chat had finally arrived home. He often liked to stay to the shadows and circle back on himself to ensure no one spotted where they were headed –and normally she did too– but she had been so flustered by everything going through her mind tonight that she had neglected her usual caution and taken a more direct route. But he had finally caught up to her, and now they were both home.

Together. Alone.

And she still had no idea how to bring up her own feelings with him, even with all the constant teasing making it the elephant in the room most days.

“Hey, My Lady? How long do you think your parents’ll stay chatting to Master Fu?” he asked with a tone of almost forced casualness, “Like, should we wait for film night? Or maybe we should just watch one in our room? Just the two of us?” She turned to see him scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly, a hint of nerves evident in the wrinkle of his brow. “Just, it’s getting kind of late, and they’ll have to be up early to work the bakery tomorrow. And I don’t know if you’re worn out from all the…from the talking, but I’d like to do something.”

Biting her lip to hinder her first instinct –which was to push him away by the nose and make a quick getaway– Marinette smiled shyly at him. Her head dropped a little despite how hard she tried to cling on to her depleting confidence, and she found herself glancing up at Chat, almost through her eyelashes.

“Sure,” she said, and as much as she tried for a normal voice, her words came out tender and full of some unspoken emotion, “Why don’t you go find something you think I’ll like?”

Chat blinked at her for a moment, eyes wide and owlish before he shook his head and gave her a weak smile. “I’ll go have a look then,” he said, clearing his throat so his own voice sounded more natural, “You know, this is one of the few times I’d love to have access to my stuff at the mansion. There’s a ton of stuff I’m dying to watch with you.”

She watched as he dropped through the skylight and presumably began to rummage through her family’s collection of films in the main room. She sighed as she considered his parting words. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was only allowed to keep some bare essentials from his time at his father’s, but it was still clearly a weight on his mind to know that everything he owned was being searched through repeatedly on a daily basis, along with everything else in the mansion. Then there was the constant stream of questioning from the police and their reminders that Gabriel’s assets were being held, as well as keeping him informed of any supposed progress in their full searches of the company premises, and certain employee’s homes. Marinette often wondered if they suspected him and were just looking for telling reactions; or if they genuinely wanted him to know how everything was going, given how in the dark he’d been about his father.

“So, I was stuck between an older classic,” Chat breathed against her ear, making her jump a little in fright, “and I know it’s only from 2003 and your dad would kill me if he heard me say that, but it’s Love Actually! That’s a classic, right?”

Marinette fought off the trembling that threatened to give away how nervous she felt. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the shock at his sudden appearance, or the way his mouth had been so close to her ear that she had been able to hear the sounds his lips made as they formed the words before his voice broke through. Or even if it was the ungodly amount of discomfort she got from the thought of watching that film with him – given how she remembered first seeing it with her mama in the room and feeling utterly mortified at some of the scenes. She somehow managed to step away and turn to face him without belaying her emotional distress, and then nodded gently in response to his question.

“Or,” Chat continued, “There’s this one – About Time? I’ve never seen it, but I wanted to. Is it good?”

“Um-” she quickly ran over and snatched the DVD case from his clawed hand, “-maybe that one isn’t the best for you to watch. It has a bit of a theme about…” As she trailed off, her eyes screwed up a little and she remained alert to how he might react, ready to offer support if he needed it.

“…Losing family?” she finished tentatively.

For a moment she regarded his rapidly dampening eyes –full of unshed tears– before he turned and wiped at them furiously with the back of his hand. When he was done, he moved towards her and she was still straining her mind to work fast enough to react when he pulled her into a warm, tight hug against his slightly heaving chest. She hugged back as best she could, his cheek resting on the top of her head and DVD case pressing against his back awkwardly as she tried to wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, voice cracking and sounding slightly watery, though she didn’t feel any tears against her hair or clothes, “You’re always thinking of me. Thank you.”

Only a moment later, she felt his breath even out a little as he regained his emotional strength once more, breaking the hug almost hesitantly to look at her instead. “So, Love Actually?”

She smiled. “Love Actually.”

“Okay!” he said, suddenly grinning and far too cheerful, “Uncomfortable simulated sex scene it is!”

She squeaked and crumpled to the floor, where she remained for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to convince her to come downstairs, despite his own fit of giggles.

Buy Me A Coffee?

[angelstrenchcoat-67]

You and I

Pairing: Stanford!Sam x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of sexual abuse

Series Summary: It wasn't easy for Sam to decide he wanted to leave his hunting life behind, to leave Dean behind. But when he saw the Stanford acceptance letter, he knew he couldn't stay back. And he knew he wasn't going to be alone.

Beta'd by @winchestersandco

PART 5 

"This is my favorite part" I clap my hands as I watch Harry dueling Draco.

"You've said that in every part of the movie" Sam chuckles, giving me a side eye.

"That's because it's a great movie" I roll my eyes as if it wasn't obvious. "That reminds me that I have to buy the DVD of the new one"

"Don't you have more important things to do? You know, like study?" He raises his eyebrow as he brings a bunch of popcorn to his mouth.

"Don't you have more important things to do other than being a dick?" I glare at him before focusing my attention back to the t.v.

It's been a couple of weeks since Sam and I made up and things have been great. I've learned to keep my distance whenever he is with Jess, more for my protection and he has learned to divide his time so we can hang out. Jess is out for the weekend, she is visiting her parents so I have Sam all to myself. Okay, I'm going to say that one more time so I don't sound as crazy. Sam and I will get to hang out more. There, better.

"How many times have you watched this?" He frowns, a small smile playing on his lips as he notices I am mouthing the words that the characters are saying.

"Uh, that's irrelevant, Sam" I huff, feeling attacked by Sam. "It's just really good"

”You're cute when you are focused on something you like" He laughs lightly before turning his eyes back to the TV. He keeps his eyes there, not noticing that I'm trying so hard not to hyperventilate.

Uh, he just called me cute. I mean, he has done that before, but it still gets me every time.

Hiding my face with my hair so that he cannot see my blush, I wrap the blanket tighter around me.

"Are you cold?" He asks me when he sees me with my blanket up to my neck.

"A little" I manage to speak, not looking back at him in case my cheeks try to betray me.

"C'mere" Before I can protest, Sam wraps his arms around me to pull me closer to him. His arm stays around my shoulders as I have my side pressed against his. "Better?"

I take a deep breath, feeling his scent reach my nose and his warmth wrapping me closer to him. "Yes," I sigh before placing my head over his chest.

It's obvious that I don't find the ability to bring my attention back to the movie as I hear Sam's heartbeat and his breath hitting my hair, constantly reminding me that he is there.

I don't know if he can hear my erratic heart as it beats in my chest, threatening to jump out and run out of here. He keeps his attention on the movie, completely clueless of all of the thoughts that are running through my head and the rush of my blood as it pumps through my body just because of his proximity.

Or I least I think he is clueless. I hope he is.

I don't realize how long have I been spacing out until Sam reaches for the remote control to turn the tv off. For some reason, my first instinct is to close my eyes before Sam looks down at me.

"Are you sleeping?" He asks so softly, I barely make out the words. I should just open my eyes but I just keep my eyes shut. "I'll take that as a yes"

I feel a sudden change in the temperature as he pulls away but before I can even register it, I feel one of his arms wrap under my legs and the other one under my back. He. Is. Carrying. Me. If it wasn't because I was supposed to be sleeping, I would probably squeal right now.

I rest my head in the crook of his neck as he walks up the stairs to get to my room. It's like 6:30 pm, that's no time to go to bed on a Friday night. But I am enjoying the moment way too much to stop him.

He somehow manages to open the door before kicking it slightly so that he can step in. He sets me on the bed before spreading the blanket over me.

I expect him to walk down to watch TV while I "sleep" but just a few seconds later, I feel the bed deep. I can feel his warmth again as he lays next to me which almost makes me open my eyes.

I can feel his brown gaze on me, it's almost too intense to not notice it. He shifts a little closer and then I feel his hand on my cheek, giving me the lightest of touch. He leaves it there for a few seconds before moving it to smooth down my hair.

If I didn't get an award for all the pretending I've been doing ever since I realized my feelings for Sam, I surely deserved it now. The amount of strength that I have to use to stop myself from reaching for his hand is too much.

Instead, I try to steady my breathing and pretend that it's a normal person who is currently playing with my hair. But my mind has other ideas because when I do manage to fall asleep, after all of the pretending, he is the main character of all of my dreams.

——

"Hey, wait up" Someone calls me as I walk out of the library.

I turn around to find Matt jogging towards me. I can tell he has been running because his shirt seems a little damp as it sticks to his very toned chest. "Oh, hi Matt"

"I was just doing my daily run" He smiles as he stands next to me, taking deep breaths. "How was your weekend?"

"It was really good" I grin, remembering all the time I had with Sam but I don't mention him. Matt knows I like someone, he doesn't know it's Sam. Actually, I don't think he knows who Sam is. "Yours?"

"Good, my sister came over to visit me" We start walking with no destination. "I don't get to see her that often so I was really happy I got to spend my weekend with her"

"That's nice" I give him a small smile, knowing how that feels. "I miss my brother all the time"

"Maybe he can come to visit you one day" Matt suggests and I nod, even though I know Dean is probably never going to do that. Not because he doesn't want to but because of John.

"Maybe" I add, staring at my shoes.

"Hey, I was wondering if you were free on Thursday? There is going to be like a movie drive-in" He looks down at me, bitting the edge of his lip. "I thought it would be fun to go, you know, in a friend way"

I try not to chuckle at how nervous Matt looks. "Sounds good"

"Great, I'll pick you up-"

Before Matt can finish, a police car speeds down in front of us before disappearing around the corner. A few seconds later, an ambulance takes the same route the police car just did.

I notice a couple of people running toward the corner both cars just turned in. Matt and I just look at each other before following the crowd.

When we turn the corner, the amount of people is pretty huge, as they all stand behind the yellow strip from the police. We try to push our way between the people to get as close as possible. I see the Science Department building as the police walk in and out as well as the paramedics.

"What happened?" I ask a guy who is watching the scene next to me.

"They found a dead body in the Science Lab" He explains to me as the police try to stop people from standing to close or stepping in the scene. "They are saying it belongs to a student"

"Who found him?" Matt asks as we watch as the paramedics push a bed out of the building. They are covering the body with a white sheet as they carry it to the ambulance.

"The group that was supposed to go in" The guy speaks again. "They said the scene was pretty gruesome. Blood everywhere"

"So, definitely a murder" I breathe out, feeling sorry for the victim.

"Oh, definitely" The guy turns around, giving me a worried look. "Whoever did it, they really put their dedication"

"Did anyone see anything? Someone walking out?" I ask again, my eyes on the ambulance.

"No, I think the first step is to identify the victim" He mutters. "His face was unrecognizable from all the scratching"

"Who would do that to someone?" I sigh, imagining what that poor guy must have gone through.

"Maybe he had it coming" A hoarse voice startles me so I turn around to see where it came from. A girl with a messy ponytail and clothes that look a little ragged and dirty follows the scene with her eyes before turning to me.

A chill runs through me when she stares into my eyes and Matt probably realized it because he then places a hand on my arm.

"C'mon, Y/N" He stares at the girl for a few seconds before pulling at me slightly. "It's getting late and there's a murderer on the loose. I'll walk you home"

We turn around but I look back at the girl but she is no longer there. People are starting to walk now so maybe she disappeared into the crowd.

——

I stare at myself in the mirror as I hold both dresses in my hands. The black one is more simple but the blue one is a little too short.

"Oh God" I grunt, walking towards my closet to look for another option. "Why is this so hard?"

"Y/N" I hear Sam's voice coming from the door so I pop my head out.

"Hey Sam" I smile at him but he just walks into my room and turns around to lock the door. "What's going on?"

"They found a student dead" Sam informs me but I just frown.

"Yeah, that was like two days ago" I walk over to him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, and they found another one today" He explains, clenching his jaw. "And this also seems to be a murder"

"Two students in a week" I gasp, feeling a little worried since I am used to sleeping with my windows opened.

"And it could be three soon" Sam adds so I turn around with a frown on my face. "The two guys that already died were friends, along with this guy"

Sam then opens a folder which I didn't even notice he had. He then pulls out a picture of a blonde guy and a couple more of the three guys together. "They all had a bit of an altercation last year when a girl accused them of sexually abusing her. After months of looking for evidence and investigation, the police never found anything so they were never punished, by the police nor the school"

Then Sam shows me the report the victim had filed and handed me a picture of the girl. I feel the air getting stuck in my throat and my hands go numb as I stare into the picture.

"I know her" I manage to speak out even though my voice sounds like it's breaking. "I saw her the day the first dead body appeared"

"Of course" Sam then pulls out a piece of a newspaper to show it to me "When I looked into this, I knew it was our kind of things. You just confirmed it. Y/N, she is dead. You saw her ghost"

And then I feel my blood freeze, goosebumps all over me. This isn't the first time I've seen a ghost, of course, but the feeling of knowing that I saw a dead person and that she talked to me isn't exactly nice.

"You know what that means right?" Sam mutters, closing the folder. "She is trying to get revenge and we have to stop her"

"Okay, first of all, do we really? I mean they raped her and they probably also killed her" I twist my mouth, knowing what Sam is going to say. "And second, we haven't been in a hunt for years now. What if this is more than what we can handle?"

"I know, they had it coming but you know that's not how we do things" Sam exhales, trying not to get caught up in the whole moral dilemma. "And of course we are going to be able to handle it, Y/N. It's probably just a salt and burn"

"Ugh, fine" I grunt, throwing myself into the bed. "We'll look for her grave tomorrow"

"She was cremated" Sam reads the copy of her autopsy as he holds it in his hands.

"Of course she was" I close my eyes, rubbing my temples with my fingertips. "We’ll look for possible objects she might be attached to and we'll go on a scavenger hunt tomorrow"

"Where are you going?" Sam asks when he notices all the clothing laying around the floor.

"I am going to a movie drive-in with Matt" I stand up to pick a few of the pieces from the floor.

"Y/N, we have to do this today" He stops me, grabbing my hand. "We don't know when she plans to attack again, we cannot wait a day"

"What's the worst that can happen? She kills the guy that raped and killed her?" I ask sarcastically but Sam tugs at my hand.

"You know-"

"That's not how we do things" I finish his sentence, rolling my eyes. "I already said yes to Matt, I can’t tell him 'Hey, sorry I can’t go, I have to look for a way to stop a vengeful spirit from killing a rapist' without sounding crazy"

"Just tell him you got sick or something" He suggests. "C'mon, I need you"

And just like that Sam has won me over, and next thing I know, I am reaching for my phone. It rings for a few seconds before Matt picks up. "Hey, I'm finishing my shift and then I'll go to my house and change before I pick you up"

"Matt, I am so sorry" I bite the side of my lip, looking quickly at Sam. Is he trying to hold back a smile? "I got the flue and I feel like a car ran me over so I need to rest. I am so sorry"

"Oh" I can hear the disappointment in his tone but he immediately recovers. "I really hope you get better. If you need anything, let me know"

"Thanks, Matt" I feel really guilty as I hang up the phone before turning to Sam. "Give me ten minutes to get into more comfortable clothes and we'll go"

————————————————————————

Hope you really like this because I had troube deciding what I wanted to do for this part!

General Tag List:

@waywardwboys @fallenangelsneverfade @randomstuff-idontwannatalkboutit @mypassionsarenysins @thesoundofme @franchisefan14 @hazzastyyless @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @caswinchester2000 @bitchfacesammy

You and I Tag List:

@sam-winchester168 @its-my-perky-nipples @volleyballer519 @yllwtaxi @babydaaz @aestheart @mannls @samwinchesterssexyface @colie87 @kimvtaeokay @miss-mooses-antics

[nomadmilk]

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 4

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Fluffy Spoodermam. Did I mention swearing before???

Author’s Note: Much of my attention is towards my essays and dissertations this month... And counting down to ENDGAME... Enjoy!! And thank you!!

Peter stands alone. He’s a couple of feet or so away from you, and holding something fluffy and green in his hand.

You were waiting for him to say something.

“Isn’t that the frog we were trying to get from the machine?” Your eyebrows rise, and your forehead dips a little, gesturing to the green, googly-eyed frog peeking through the grip of his hands..

Pepper’s desk toy span three times.

“Oh. Yeah. This… Is for you.” His arm locks to present the frog, the frog itself lying upside down in his palm. He strides forwards, standing on the other side of the desk, and positioning the frog directly in front of you, the right way up. “It’s, uh, just without a hat.”

You place your pen on top of some unfinished paperwork, and pull yourself closer to the desk to reach over to it. Peter’s eyes removed themselves from your leaning figure.

“How’d you get this?” You question, inspecting the fabric and the seams.

Peter didn’t want to respond. Tony must have bought the entire arcade place just to get that thing.

“And what was Tony doing here?” You pry a little more. “Is everything okay?”

Showing his hands in front of him, as if it was an appeal to prove his innocence, he rushes to sit down on cushioned chair. “Everything’s fine. And Mr Stark was here cause’- I mean, I think he had…”

He didn’t finish his sentence; lying to you wasn’t something he wanted between the two of you.

“Mr Stark actually got it.” He exhales. “I don’t know when he got it, or how. But he told me to give it to you.”

“What?” You were befuddled. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to get it and give it to you-“

“Oh, my God. Was he spying on us?”

Peter’s lips thinned straight. “I-I think he was.” His shoulders hunched unsure and tightly. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Ugh. Peter, I’m sorry-“

“I wasn’t in trouble with Mr Stark, that’s not why he’s here. He’s just here to speak to me about…” He had a few seconds to think, sitting in the empty chair in front of you. “Something.”

“Right… As long as you’re okay.”

“Y-you wanna’ go on a date?”

“What?”

“You wanna’ go on another break?”

“Like, now?”

“You’re free for the rest of the day, aren’t you?”

“How’d you know that?” You shook your head. “And how about you? Don’t you have anything to do?”

“Yes.” Peter inched his chair forwards to you, you both hear the creaks as the legs of it scratch the floor. “I can do it later. I just want to pay you back for what you did for me yesterday. I’d like to-to, y’know, take you somewhere that I-I think you might like.”

“Are you sure?”

He sprung out of his seat, clapping and rubbing his hands together. He took hold of the computer monitor and the keyboard, and swung it so he could view it. From the corner of his peripheral, he saw you dazed as he proceeded to save and exit files, and close down windows, and log you out of the system.

His back straightens, and he folds his arms in triumph.

With no reply, you got to your feet. You took hold of a bag strap and slipped it onto one of your shoulders, picking up the frog. It sits and sinks into your bag. You can’t fully seal your handbag, so the frog lies at one end, squished a little by the pressure of the zip. You smile at him, and he returns it. And you curse yourself in doing so as it just confirmed your suspicion of a second weak spot.

“U-u-unless it’s not good for you right now.” Peter’s face shifted to worry, as if the words just generated out of thin air. “Which is fine. It’s cool. Then another time-“

Even with the heels, you still needed to use the tip of your toes for your lips to reach his cheek. He felt your hand on his arm, as you used it for support to lean into him. It was only a millisecond, and you had pulled away quickly, but there were aftershocks.

He let out a brief chuckle, but his face looked at you with disbelief.

“Lead the way.” You simper.

You walk side by side as you leave the office. As you both leave the building, Happy is already outside with the car. You guys both hop into the back, and start commenting on how the car’s leather seats never seem to get worn down or faded after years of being a chauffeur car. Then Happy overheard and eliminated all solutions with telling the both of them that Tony Stark is a trillionaire now.

“You really think he’s not gonna’ hire people to clean the car?...”

The car, windows tinted, reflected the gleam of a low sunset as it drove through New York. It was able to drive past the flat where Peter lived. Even though he slept and ate at the Avengers compound, he sees Aunt May on a regular basis to have dinner with her; the meals were never successful, and they’d end up ordering takeaway instead. You’ve never met Aunt May, and she hardly attended the compound. You saw her one time with a cake box in Peter’s lab to celebrate his birthday. Peter was nonchalant when he spoke about her to you, but you could tell they’ve been through a lot together, and you admired that familial relationship. It was nice seeing him laugh as he told stories; he didn’t talk that much usually, and he didn’t even stammer once.

The car passed Midtown High, and you both saw students still exiting the gates.

“Why are they just leaving? It’s 5pm.”

“Yeah.” Peter shrugged. “That’s only the first half of the extracurriculars.”

You were bewildered. “The first half?”

“There’s extra extracurricular afterwards.” Peter said.

The car then pulled up into a parking lot, and you both head out of the vehicle. Happy drives off, promising to return if Peter gave him a message.

Peter held his hand in yours as you both turned around a street corner. He lead you into a convenience store named ‘Delmar’s Deli-Grocery’. Peter, pushing the door open, greeted a man behind a counter, the bell’s chime was heard in two shrills by the movements.

“This place has got the best sandwiches in New York. Can’t help but get one if I ever get the chance to…” Peter then proceeded to ask you what you’d like and, once taking your order, paced to the counter where he met an old man with a handshake, which was brought in for a hug.

As you left Peter by the till to catch up, you saunter over to the aisles, looking at snacks and magazines. As you switch to another aisle, you peer over to the till again; Peter still had his back towards you, and he was still having a chat. The old man catches your glimpse, smiles and nods at you. You awkwardly smile back with a small wave.

You scan through random DVDs, and drinks, and even took a gander at the toiletries aisle just to kill a little more time.

“Uh, Y/N,” You hear Peter call you, “Grab anything you want. My treat.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything. Get some snacks.”

“What else are we doing after this?”

“We’re seeing my Aunt May.”

As you agreed and went back to the snack aisle, you miss Mr Delmar’s nudge at Peter.

You get some popcorn, chocolates and a couple of wine bottles; a Pinot Grigio for Aunt May, and Merlot for yourself. You head over to the counter and stood next to Peter, setting the items next to a couple of freshly made, toasted, sandwiches.

Peter fishes through his pockets for a couple of dollar notes and hands them to the man behind the till. “Thanks, Mr Delmar.”

“It’s not a problem, kid, it’s always nice to see your face.” Mr Delmar says, handing him some coins in change. There’s a snap beneath the counter, and he whips open a plastic bag to place the items in. “Who’s your lady friend here?”

You make eye contact with him. “I’m Y/N. I just work with Peter-“

“Ah! I thought I recognised you!” Mr Delmar exclaimed, like a light bulb had lit above his head. “You’re head of Stark Industries.”

You shrug, receiving the plastic bag, “It’s only temporary. Pepper Potts will be back to resume position.”

“You still must be a busy woman.” He points to Peter. “How have you got time for this guy?”

“Oh. Thor was busy.”

The man chuckles, as you smirk at Peter; he glares at you, with a small beam twitching on his lips.

The bell jingles as you both walk back outside to the queues of cars filling the streets, illuminated by headlights, neon store signs and changing traffic lights. The sky was a deep purple, blanketing the sky with velvet against the hubbub of people passing you and Peter on the sidewalk.

You’re pretty nervous about meeting Aunt May officially. You were glad that you were in your work clothes, so at least you felt presentable. Chatting with Peter about random topics, and munching on your warm delis is easing you. On the other hand, as you arrive at the flat, you realise that you had just been blocking all that stress. Are you sure seeing Aunt May was a good idea?... And why were you stressing out about this? It should be fine. The wine should be fine. Maybe she doesn’t drink?

You stand behind him, plastic bag of snacks and drinks held in one hand and an almost finished sandwich in the other. The hallway is empty, and at the very end is a window, showing the sky, darker than before.

The sandwich had disappeared from Peter’s hands, and some of it was on his cheek, or had fallen as crumbs on his collar. He sifts through his back pockets for the sound of a set of keys, and unlocks the door.

“Aunt May?” Peter shut the door, the keys jangling in a bowl. “Think she might be working late.”

[killingmebtob]

[[☾]] Unlucky Day // Im Hyunsik

Author: @killingmebtob // Chi

Title: Unlucky Day

Characters: Hyunsik and Reader

Summary: She was having the unluckiest day ever. Can Hyunsik make it better?

Warnings: NC-17, Smut, Teasing, Fingering, Unprotected sex

--

Your name: submit What is this?

--

NOTHING’S GOING RIGHT!

MY WHOLE LIFE’S A BIG, FAT JOKE!

I chanted in my head as I walked the slippery street on my way home. The soft rain drops are falling on my head and the squeaking sound of my shoes when I walk is making me uncomfortable. Ok, scratch that. What’s making me uncomfortable is the fact that I smell like shit. No, this is not a metaphor. I do smell like shit.

I am unluckiness personified!

Maybe I did something wrong in my past life because of all the bad karma that are pouring into my life.

My feet are aching because of the long walk and I don’t think any cab will let me in because of my current condition. If I am the cab driver, I won’t let me in!

Not that there are any vehicles in the area though. Thanks to that transport strike!

I should’ve known that this day would turn bad when the bathroom mirror cracked while I was preparing for work this morning. I think that was a sign and I ignored it. I also ignored the superstition saying that I should not go under a ladder. Well, there was nowhere else to go to so I had no choice. Also, that black cat! I thought that the black cat I saw down the road was cute but maybe I should’ve remembered the old saying where you will get bad luck if you see one.

I should’ve believed in the superstitions!

If I did, maybe I would’ve known that I will be sacked from work today. I have worked for that company for five whole years. I’ve dedicated my whole life to it and sacrificed my social life for it. I worked twelve hours a day, even on weekends, just to make sure that I meet my deadlines. I always volunteer to help my colleagues, even to the point that I do their job just to get their favor. And what did I get? I got terminated from my job for the simple reason that my position is redundant. I mean, if it is redundant, they shouldn’t have hired for it in the first place!

I thought my bad luck would stop there but of course not!

On my way home, while crying, the bus I am on had mechanical problems and everyone inside had to walk. You can’t even hail a cab because there aren’t any in the area. While walking and crying, the sky suddenly decided that it needed to rain. Get this, I forgot my damn umbrella at work! I had to stop under the nearest tree. When I was sure that the rain had stopped, I continued my long journey home. You know what happened next? I fucking slipped and fell in the sewer by the side of the road.

It wasn’t that deep. I wish it was. I wish it damaged my head so that I will go into a coma and sleep for a long time and away from all these bad luck.

But all I got was a few scratches on my knees, lumps of muck on my hair and clothes, and the stench of the damn sewer.

I wish it would rain so hard so maybe some of the dirt from my body would be washed out. But of course, the clouds wanted to laugh at me. It just gave little drizzles of rain.

I HAVE BADLUCK IN MY VEINS!

Clutching my muddy bag to my chest, I walked the deserted road to my apartment. The whole area is already dark because I know for a fact that it is already ten p.m. It says so on my muddy watch.

After what seemed like an endless and cold walk along the dark road, I reached my apartment building.

It somehow made me feel better knowing that I can run a hot bath and soak in bubbles tonight to clean myself. And maybe I can cry and pity myself until the sun rises.

Good thing no one seems to be awake at this hour. I went up to my floor without worrying that I’ll bump into one of my neighbors. They won’t see me, or worst, smell me.

With the hallway quiet, I can clearly hear the squeaking sound of my shoes with every step I make.

A few more steps and I reached my apartment door. I felt great relief. I am finally here. This is my place. In here, I know that I will forever be safe from the harm of the whole world.

Okay, that sounds exaggerated but that’s how I really feel when I am inside my apartment. I’ve only been here for a year but it truly felt like the homiest place I’ve ever been.

With a relieved heart, I opened my bag to get my keys. As I reached inside, I felt that all of my belongings are coated in mud and trash from the sewer. Even my phone and my planner. I won’t need the planner anymore but my phone is something that I’ll need. I will have it checked in the morning. I hope it’s still okay and just needs a little drying up.

I have touched every object inside my bag and scanned every pocket, but to my horror, only one thing is missing.

My keys!

It’s not there. I know it should be there. It can’t be anywhere. I don’t have a pocket and I can still remember seeing it in my bag before I left the office.

Then it dawned on me. I must’ve dropped it when I fell in the sewer.

Maybe I can still go back and look for it. But that place is not that near. It would be another long walk for me. And when I get there, how would I find it? That place is pitch black. I have bad eyesight. The most sensible thing to do right now is to wait till the sunrise so I have enough light.

So, am I going to stay here in the hallway till morning?

I felt hot tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

I am jobless. My feet have blisters. My knees are scratched. My whole body is soaked in sewer water. And now, I am also homeless.

What kind of shit life is this?

I felt like my whole world crumbled right in front of me, making my knees weak causing me to end up sitting in the hallway. I pulled my knees to my chest, hugged it, and buried my face there.

Then in one big moment, all my tears started to stream down my face. My shoulders shook as I silently sobbed.

Nothing is going right in my whole life. I fucked up big time and now I have to wait till sunrise just to get a nice bath.

I wish that life will stop joking on me now.

“(Y/N)?” a voice interrupted my child-like sobs.

I looked up to see who the voice belongs to and my eyes landed on a very familiar figure walking in the hallway to my direction.

He’s carrying a folded umbrella on one hand and a grocery bag on the other. As usual, he is wearing ripped jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair is a big mess on his head but it still looked good.

I can see concern on his face as he looked at me.

“What are you doing here?” Hyunsik asked. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t come near me.” I instantly said with my palm facing him.

Confusion flashed on his face and I know that at that exact moment, he smelled me.

Oh God, that’s the moment that I just want to throw myself off the building. I can’t believe this!

I’ve always had a huge crush on my neighbor, Hyunsik, ever since I moved here. He’s just so sweet all the time. And he helped me a lot on my first month. I wasn’t used to being independent because I’ve always lived with my parents. But Hyunsik made everything easier. He was always there and we kind of became friends. Of course, I never told him about how I feel. I know that he doesn’t feel the same way for me. He’s just nice. I am not like other girls who will assume that boys like them just because they gave them some attention or help them carry their grocery bags… Or fix the pipe under the sink… Or cook for you.

No, I’m not like that!

Ok, maybe a little. I might’ve hoped that he likes me too. But he never made any move on me so I know that he doesn’t. He just wanted friendship. So I kept this little crush inside me.

I felt my face turn as hot as melted iron. I wanted to run away screaming but I can’t.

My chest felt so tight and that’s when I did what I shouldn’t have done.

I cried and told him everything that had happened to me the whole day. Every bit of unluckiness that came my way. He was standing five feet from me, intently listening to my entire story.

After my long rant, Hyunsik just stood in silence as if he is deep in thought.

I don’t know how he took all of that information and I don’t know what to do next so I just sat in silence too and waited for him to say something.

“Let’s go inside my apartment.” He suddenly said. “You can take a bath there and we’ll figure out what to do with your door.” He offered to me.

“Are you sure?” I hesitated for a bit. It’s not my first time going inside his apartment, I’ve done it a dozen times in the past already but they were just very quick visits, like when I will ask for sugar or borrow DVD from him. But I’ve never been to any of the rooms aside from the living room. Let alone inside his bathroom. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I might get the dirt on the floor and your apartment will smell like shit too.” Ok, that is really my concern.

He clucked his tongue impatiently and crossed the five feet distance between us. I backed away, even when I couldn’t, still embarrassed about my situation but his hand caught my arm and held it firmly, pulling me to my feet.

“That���s okay.” He said. And he led me inside his apartment.

It feels weird. I am inside his small bathroom. It’s kind of identical to mine but of course there is a big difference. For example, while mine is lined with different soaps, shampoo bottles, and conditioner bottles, his only has a plain looking bar of soap and one bottle of shampoo.

Everything looked so simple and manly.

As the warm water from the shower head pours on my skin, I feel relaxed. It’s as if all the worries that I have are being washed away with the sewer muck.

I used his soap and shampoo and both smell good. It smells like him.

I know it for a fact because I may have sniffed him once when I was near him. Ok, maybe twice. Or thrice. Or… I don’t know. He smells good. Not the manly, musky scent. Just the smell of fresh shower that doesn’t hurt anyone’s nose. Especially mine.

Now, I smell like him too.

He lent me his extra towel, a large white shirt with Nirvana printed on it, and black shorts.

Hyunsik is a big man. So, when I wore his clothes, I look like a little kid.

As much as I just want to stay inside the shower until the sun rises, I can’t. To be honest, I still feel a bit shy. I am invading his privacy while wearing his clothes after using his shampoo. But he knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I had to say that I am going to come out in a bit.

I had no choice but to go outside.

I wrapped my hair with the towel as I usually do after the shower. I don’t really like it when the wet strands make my neck wet too.

I found Hyunsik on the couch watching TV. A pile of chips are arranged on the coffee table in front. That must be what he bought outside before he saw me.

From where I am standing, I got to study him. His arms are relaxed on either side of him on the back rest of the couch. His legs are stretched in front of me and he is bare feet. His focus is on the TV. When he is deep in thought, he will sometimes lick his lower lip.

As if he felt that I am there, he glanced at me.

I am not sure if it was just my imagination or my mind assuming things again, but I think I saw something flicker in his eyes. It’s as if his gaze is burning my skin that on impulse, my hand shot up to cover my chest.

And that’s when I remember that I am not wearing any undergarments. So many things running in my mind that I didn’t even consider the fact that I don’t have anything underneath the shirt or the shorts.

Hyunsik cleared his throat and averted his gaze from me. “Have you eaten anything?” He said in his friendly, neighborly tone.

I shook my head. I really am hungry right now.

“I have some left over lasagna, are you okay with that?”

“Yeah.” I answered.

I sat on the couch and waited for him. After a few minutes, he came back with a plate of warm lasagna and a can of cold beer.

“I just thought you might need it.” He said, referring to the beer.

I uttered a small “Thanks,” and accepted the plate and can from him.

The atmosphere is really heavy. It’s like everything is so silent. Neither of us talked while he watched TV beside me as I ate my food and drank my beer.

It was when I put down my empty plate that he finally talked.

“I tried to open your door by breaking the lock,” he started. “But it’s making so much noise. We’ll have to do it in the morning.”

“Oh.” Was all the I managed to say. So what will happen to me now?

“You can sleep here.” He finally offered as if reading my mind. “I’ll sleep here on the couch, you can take my bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why? Are you planning to sleep in the hallway?” He said to me quizzically.

“Of course, not.” I said at once.

He smiled. “That’s settled then,”

You see, this is what makes me weak all the time. Aside from him being the gentleman that he is, there’s this huge thing about his smile. It’s not any ordinary smile. When Hyunsik smiles, it reaches his eyes and he looks like the sun and I am Icarus, hypnotized by it, wanting to come closer and closer until it melts my wings and I fall without anyone catching me and eventually die.

“Do you want to sleep now?” Hyunsik asked, snapping me out of my daze.

I am tired, but I am not really sleepy. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he offered.

A movie doesn’t seem too bad at this moment. It can take my mind off my problems.

I am glad that we didn’t talk about what happened to me. Sometimes you just don’t want to. Not everyone is up for the Let’s talk about your problems kind of conversation. Hyunsik understands that about me.

We watched Taken first. That movie never gets old. The thrill is still there even after watching it a dozen times. Both Hyunsik and I recited Liam Neeson’s famous lines when he answered the call after his daughter was abducted. Obviously enjoying the movie, I didn’t realize that I have already emptied six cans of beer and a full bag of chips. I just felt my face numbing a bit by the end of the movie. Hyunsik had more beer than me but he doesn’t look tipsy at all. He really is a guy that can hold his alcohol.

We had some conflict with the next movie that we are going to watch but we settled for Cabin In The Woods.

Not an hour after the movie started, I am already regretting our decision. My heart is beating so fast and I am hiding behind the pillow.

“W-We shouldn’t have watched this.” I said to Hyunsik. Well, more like whisper as if the things inside the TV would hear me and eat my heart out.

Hyunsik huffed. “Scared-y cat.” He said. “It’s just a movie.”

“I know!” I said back. “But the damn effects are scaring me to hell.”

I heard him chuckle. That deep honey-like chuckle that just makes anyone melt. “You aren’t even watching the movie; you are just behind that pillow.”

“I am watching it. I glimpse at it, okay. And your pillow isn’t big enough. It can’t even protect me from the monsters there. What if it jumps out of---“

My words were cut off when a loud noise blasted from the speakers. I don’t know why there was shouting, but I shouted along with whoever is shouting. I leaped out of my place, hoping to look for somewhere to hide. I just closed my eyes and tightly held whatever my hands landed on first.

I don’t know how long I was in that position but it didn’t take me long to realize where I am.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and I was met by Hyunsik’s face a few inches away from mine. My arm is around the back of his neck and my fist is clutching the cloth on his back.

Little by little, I became aware of everything.

His eyes looking deeply into mine. His lips slightly parted. I can feel his breathing on my face. I am sitting on his lap.

All the sounds inside the room is being drowned out by the loud beating of my heart. I can hear the blood rushing in my veins and I am highly sensitive to everything.

He wasn’t moving and I wasn’t too. We were both trying to figure out what the situation is.

He licked his lips and it made me draw my breath.

He caught that.

I am sure of it because then, a small smile played on his lips.

“Should we…” he said breathlessly, not removing his eyes on me.

He didn’t need to finish what he was going to say.

I nodded my head.

I closed the gap between us. My lips found his. The moment our skin came in contact, I closed my eyes and my whole body buzzed into a rhythm, Mouth, teeth, and tongue slowly dancing together. Warm breaths and sweet moans passed between us. Small bites, lightly grazing each other’s teeth on each other’s lips. A small smile.

We do not need our sight to know what we need to do next. With our bare hands on each other’s body, we felt our movements. It’s a dance that we both know even without words.

I felt his palm move up to my knees, up to my thigh, lightly squeezing along the way, sending shivers throughout my body making me hot and wanting to melt.

I am a restless fire reaching up to the starry night.

His hands moved up to my waist and in one swift movement, he lifted me up and placed me down on his lap again, but this time, I found myself straddling him. My legs are on either side of his. I felt him hard under me.

Our lips moved more passionately like waves fighting each other, not letting anyone stop us. Next thing we know is we find ourselves in the same position but our clothes are discarded to God-knows-where. The room is cold and we had to cling on each other’s warm bodies.

I am slick and wet on top of him and I let him feel it every time I move and drag myself on his length, earning grunts and moans from him.

He left my swollen lips and moved to the back of my ears and down to my neck leaving soft wet kisses, his tongue lightly tasting my skin. Each kiss is like a trigger pulling something inside me, taking me deeper into ecstasy. I felt his hand on my hips again, pulling me up to kneel.

His slow kisses trailed down to my collarbone, to my shoulder, and found its way to my chest. His lips closed in on one nipple and I had to throw my head back in pleasure when I felt his wet tongue and warm breath. My hands gripped his shoulders as he sucked my nipple.

His arm is around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he took in more of me in his mouth. His other hand moved on the inside of my thigh, up and down, until it found the wetness of my core. He teased it and it one swift movement, one finger found its way inside me, then another, both are parting me.

His lips on my nipple, and his fingers inside me, Both moved in a rhythm simultaneously. Pure and raw lust came over me and I found myself moving along to him. I shuddered and I called out his name shamelessly.

I don’t know how long it went on because I was panting for air and everything just feels good and I want him to never stop what he is doing.

But when his lips and fingers left my body, I felt deprived that I had to bite my lip.

“Look at me.” His voice ringing in my ears like thunder and I have to obey.

I met his dark eyes and I know that this is the moment.

His hand reached down between us and I planted my own hands on his shoulders.

“Just look at me.” He said again,

Slowly, he lowered me down. I felt his tip part my entrance. I took my time and I had to wince as he gradually enters me, stretching me. I winced in pain and pleasure but not once did I look away from him.

His eyes grew darker and darker the more he goes deeper inside me. My walls slowly wrapping around him, gripping him tight.

I saw him bite his lip and he cursed under his breath, something I never heard him say before.

I almost lost my breath when I finally had all of him inside me and he already hit a spot inside me causing ripples of lust to crawl all around my body.

He is hot and pulsing inside me and I didn’t dare to move because I am afraid that I will break.

“Move.” He finally said with that firm voice again.

I closed my eyes and moved. I kneeled up and sat back down again and every time I do so, a part of my soul goes away with my moans.

His hands gripping my thighs tightly and I felt absolute pleasure and pride when with each movement I make, he threw his head back.

Our moans and groans of pleasure and the steam of our bodies filled the whole room. He is now moving along with me and we met each other’s movements.

Nothing is making sense in my mind right now. Lust has totally taken over me. I don’t know when we moved or how but the next thing I know is I was slumped on the backrest of the couch with my back to him and I was kneeling.

He positioned himself behind me and entered me from there. Slowly like the first time. And I felt his chest on my back and his mouth on my ear. His hands groped my chest from behind. And he moved in and out over and over again.

His hot breath and grunts are on my neck as he sucked and bit it giving me more pleasure than pain.

I am pulsing and convulsing under him and I had to grip the backrest of the couch tightly. I was a moaning and screaming mess as the waves of orgasm slowly built inside me.

His movement became harsher and hungrier and I swear I heard him scream my name once.

Dots danced behind my eyelids and my walls pulsed and shuddered around him as my orgasm came. Moments later, he pulsed inside me too and hot seed poured inside me.

Gasping for air, he pulled out of me and collapsed on the couch. I did too and I laid my head on his chest.

No words passed between us, just our heavy breathing.

I looked up to the TV and to the long-forgotten movie still playing but already reaching its end.

I smiled.

Looks like I wasn’t really that unlucky at all.

[thedegenerateasexual]

Nobody Knows How Old Derek Was When The Fire Happened, Not Even Jeff Davis, Not Even After He Tried To Change Derek's Age: An Essay By Me

In Other News, Canon Continues To Make No Sense, Water Is Wet, Etc

So let’s get down to it. In Season 1, which takes place in the spring semester of 2011, several characters confirm multiple times that the fire was six years ago, which puts it sometime in 2005.

Derek: 6 years ago, my sister and I were at school, and our house caught fire. Eleven people were trapped inside. [Peter] was the only survivor.

—1.04 Magic Bullet

Peter’s nurse: Let him go. You think after 6 years of this, yelling at him is going to get a response?

—1.06 Heart Monitor

Mr. Harris: It was 6 years ago, and in my defense, it was before I’d gotten sober. … And a week later, the Hale house burns down.

—1.09 Wolf’s Bane

Peter: Scott, if I may interrupt your listing of the top five most impotent-sounding threats for a moment, try and remember that I’ve been in a coma for 6 years.

—1.10 Co-Captain

Peter: Apologize. Say that you’re sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for 6 years.

—1.12 Code Breaker

(It’s worth adding that Stiles says in the pilot that Derek is “just a few years older than us” and the fire was “like 10 years ago” but since this is the ONLY time it’s not being referred to as 6 years ago in every season except 3A, where it is only implied, I’ll reluctantly allow JD to chalk it up to him having been mistaken, which is what I think he said about this particular line. I feel like I’ve also read that they originally intended for Derek to be 19 in the pilot, which by this line would have put him at 9 when the fire happened or if the fire was 6 years ago, 13. I can’t track down a source for that and it’s obviously terribly wrong anyway, so we’ll leave that line alone for this particular thought exercise.)

According to Derek’s driver’s license (which pops up in 1.11 Formality), he was born in 1988, making him 16 or 17 when the fire happened in 2005, depending on whether or not it was before or after his birthday. (His actual birthday is either on November 7th or December 25th, depending on if you believe his driver’s license or a calendar that came in one of the DVDs, but there’s no point in speculating over the actual month and day when we can’t even keep the year straight. It’s also worth noting that while the novel On Fire has been declared non-canonical, when it hit shelves, Season 2 was airing, and it put Derek at 16 at the time of the fire as well, but did not give him a birthdate.)

Anyway, IF you discount the driver’s license as just a quick prop that wasn’t thoroughly vetted (like Stiles’ first name appearing as “Genim” on a folder in the parent-teacher conference with Coach in 1.05 The Tell), we can still check out 3A for answers because apparently that’s when JD got his shit together and decided on a timeline, right?

Chris: When’s the last time you saw your sister? Derek: Nine years. I thought she died in the fire.

—3.03 Fireflies

[S C R E A M S]

Look, unless he’s saying is that somehow he lived in Beacon Hills for 3 years when Cora wasn’t there, yet STILL had some mysterious reason to believe she was in that house and died in that fire, then this leads us to believe the fire was indeed 9 years ago, which would put it in 2002, NOT 2005.

Except in 3A, we again get told AGAIN that the fire was 6 years ago:

Cora: You’ve known me for 17 years. Peter: I knew you for 11, leaving the last 6 unaccounted for.

—3.05 Frayed

This must mean the fire happened when Cora was 11, because after that she disappeared for 6 years. WHY is it Peter last saw her 6 years ago, but it was 9 since Derek saw her? This the SAME SEASON. There’s no way they wouldn’t catch a mistake like that.

So let’s try it this way: Derek was 15 when he killed Paige in the nemeton’s root cellar.

Peter: He came at Ennis. A 15-year-old boy against a giant.

—3.08 Visionary

…although it’s worth noting this conversation also happens in that same episode:

Stiles: Okay, so if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he? How old were you? How old are you now? Peter: Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think. Stiles: Okay, that was frustratingly vague. How old are you? Cora: I’m 17. Stiles: See, that’s an answer. That’s how we answer people. Cora: Well, 17 how you’d measure in years. Stiles: All right, I’m just gonna drop it.

It doesn’t really tell us anything except that JD was REALLY trying to leave himself some wiggle room in the most ungraceful and cheap bit of “exposition” I’ve ever seen, but I thought it was worth the mention because it infuriates me on a daily basis.

Anyway, Jennifer later confirms for us that the whole thing with Paige was just a few months before Kali left her for dead:

Jennifer: For years, the Nemeton’s power was virtually gone, like the dying ember of a burned out fire. But a few months earlier, something happened that caused that ember to glow a little brighter. Something that gave it a spark of power again. The sacrifice of a virgin. You didn’t know what you were doing back then, but killing Paige in the root cellar, sacrificing her there, gave power to the Nemeton.

—3.10 The Overlooked

And when the sheriff asked, the previous episode, for files about THAT incident…

Sheriff Stilinski: The records would be over 10 years old.

—3.09 The Girl Who Knew Too Much

So if 10 years ago Derek was 15, that means he’s 25 now, and he was 19 when the fire happened 6 years ago, right? Except don’t forget:

Chris: When’s the last time you saw your sister? Derek: 9 years. I thought she died in the fire.

—3.03 Fireflies

If the fire WAS 9 years ago, and Derek is 25 NOW, then at the time of the fire he STILL would have been 16.

There is one possible explanation: in 5.01 Creatures of the Night we see the initials DH on the senior scribe shelf in the library. (It’s never proven these are Derek’s, but why else would we linger on a shot of the initials DH?) Which means he graduated from BHHS, which would have had to have happened before the fire—because after the fire, he left town. So it’s POSSIBLE that when he said he and Laura were “at school” he meant “college” and not “high school,” and the reason he hadn’t seen Cora in 3 years was that he was away in his third year of college—making him 21ish when the fire happened in 2005 and 27ish during the pilot, 6 years later in 2011 (and putting his birthyear in 1984).

Which, like, it’s SUPER weird that Derek would go off to college and not come home once in 3 years for the summer OR winter breaks when werewolf packs are always being touted as being so very close to each other, but okay. The Sheriff did say the files would be AT LEAST 10 years old, not 10 years old EXACTLY, so it’s TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that Kate and Derek had their affair far away from Beacon Hills, and she came back to arrange the fire—to hire and bribe the people she needed to to cover it up, to chat up Mr. Harris for arson advice, etc.

Like, yeah, JD laid a lot of implications for Derek being 16 in Season 1, from his speech to Scott in 1.12 Code Breaker (“You want me to risk my life for your girlfriend? For your stupid little teenage crush that means absolutely nothing? You’re not in love, Scott! You’re 16 years old! You’re a child!”) that sort of seemed like he was really talking to himself, to Kate’s comment about the 16-year-old Jackson in 1.09 Wolf’s Bane (“Holy hotness! Oh, if I was in high school again…maybe just the substitute teacher.”) making it seem like she was interested in teenage boys. But in the end, that was too dark, and he changed it in 3A to make Derek 27 instead of 22 (despite Stiles’ initial claim that Derek was ONLY A FEW YEARS OLDER than he and Scott…sorry, sorry, I know I said I’d leave it alone), and he technically did manage to just BARELY squeak by without conflicting any of his own canon after all, despite my having to write 1500 words of meta just to figure out what the hell he was trying to do when it would have been so much easier to just TELL US. It’s cheap, disappointing, and an overall cop-out, but it is what it is. Mystery solved, right?

IF!!! ONLY!!!!!

In 1.04 Magic Bullet, when Derek comes to the high school looking for Scott to get his help, he runs into Jackson instead, and winds up slamming him against the lockers, digging his claws into the back of Jackson’s neck. These wounds bother Jackson for most of the season, and later, he goes to get them checked out by a doctor (ironically, Dr. Fenris, though we don’t know that at the time):

Dr. Fenris: What did you say it was that scratched you? Jackson: It was—it was just an animal. Look, can you hurry this up? I’m missing first period. Dr. Fenris: Have you had trouble sleeping lately? Jackson: Kind of. I’ve been having dreams. Dr. Fenris: Dreams…or nightmares? Jackson: Nightmares. About a fire. It’s this—this house, and I can hear screaming—

—1.09 Wolf’s Bane

Could be any house, sure. After all, we got to see that Derek had his own wolfsbane-poisoned blood dripping down his fingers at the time and Dr. Fenris confirms shortly after this conversation that Jackson does indeed have aconite/wolfsbane poisoning himself. Nothing to give you nightmares like wolfsbane! (Though it’s bananas that the stuff stuck around in his system that long—we’re not given a definite timeframe for how long it was between being scratched and getting the scratches checked, but they looked well on their way to healing, so it must have been a week-ish at the very least.)

In the very next episode, though, when Derek tricks Jackson into coming out to the Hale house so he can kill him…

Jackson: This house—it’s the same house. Derek: What’d you say? Jackson: I’ve dreamt about this place. I—I remember the staircase. I remember these—these walls. I remember everything. Derek: You’ve been here? Jackson: No, never. I dreamt it.

—1.10 Co-Captain

Jackson is more or less telling us the Hale house is the one he’s been having the nightmares about. How is that possible? Well, in the very same episode, Peter sticks his claws into Scott’s neck to give him memories of the fire. (And in the novel, which is admittedly not canon, when Derek accidentally digs his claws into Scott, he gives him a memory about the fire as well.)

Most of the time we tend to think of That Thing Werewolves Do With Their Claws as a one-way connection—that the person using their claws is getting information from the other person’s head. But here are at least two instances—one voluntary, one involuntary—where they GAVE information to the other person instead. And when Peter uses Talia’s claws on Derek in 3.15 Galvanize, that was Talia giving information to Derek, rather than Peter or Talia getting information from him. It’s NOT one-way, not even just in Season 1, and though it was an accident, Derek DID give Jackson some of his memories.

And if Jackson remembers and has nightmares about people screaming during the fire, that means DEREK was almost certainly there hearing people screaming during the fire. Which means, a) Derek watched his family die, I’m very sad about that, but more importantly: b) he was NOT very far from home (IE college, IE so far away he didn’t want to come visit for three YEARS), to have been “at school” when the house caught fire, and able to get to the house before everybody finished screaming. There cannot POSSIBLY have been a college THAT CLOSE to Derek’s house where he didn’t feel the need to see his family for 3 YEARS. 

Further putting holes in the “didn’t see Cora because he was away at college for 3 years theory” are these lines:

Peter Kate didn't just take [Derek] back to being a teenager, she... She took him back to the age when he still knew her. When he still trusted her.

—4.02 117

Peter: Quite the elaborate scheme you have here, Kate. Two countries, Aztec temples, Derek returned to a teenager...one that trusted you. One that loved you. 

 —4.02 117

Derek was a teenager when he first met Kate. That means 19 at the VERY oldest, though I guess it’s POSSIBLE Season 4 was attempting to return to the “age 16” canon. Granted, he may not have been a teenager when the fire happened, but if they wanted us to believe he was 21 and “at school” meant “away at college,” that means he and Kate were in a relationship for 3 years—I don’t think ANYBODY has that kind of patience to pour into a long con, let alone Kate Argent; Chris himself noted in 4.05 I.E.D. that “control was never one of Kate’s strengths.” (Backed up by the houseful of children she murdered.) 

Furthermore, if they were in a relationship for 3 years, and the fire was 6 years ago, Kate would have had to have met Derek 9 years ago, and if 10 years ago he was 15, then 9 years ago he would have been 16—for most people (and it’s possible Derek was an exception) that is WAY too young to be at college.

To complicate things even further, we also have this gem from 3A, the season with the most retcon attempts:

Deaton: When you've spent every moment of the last 10 years trying to push something away...denying it, lying about it, becomes a pretty powerful habit.

—3.04 Unleashed

I would imagine Deaton quit being an emissary once there was no longer a pack to guide, which is to say: after the fire. But again, 3A tells us the fire was 9 years ago (in the episode right before this one!), not 10. It’s POSSIBLE that what he means is he quit after Gerard massacred Deucalion’s pack, but the Hales were all fine until the fire, so why would he? The Sheriff’s line in 3.09 implies those events were either exactly 10 years ago or slightly more than that, but it’s left deliberately vague. If this is when Deaton quit, however, that would mean Derek was 15 when the massacre happened and Paige died, and, if the fire truly was 9 years ago, 16 when he met Kate and lost his family. But if the fire was 6 years ago, it brings up yet another contradiction: Deaton quit being the Hales’ emissary a full four years before they all died.

So where are these missing 3 years between seeing Cora and believing her to be dead in the fire? WHAT does that line EVEN MEAN? Where the HELL was she supposed to have been? Did she go off to college too?? Was she in a South American boarding school? If she didn’t live in that house why would Derek have reason to believe she died? If DEREK was the one not living there why does he remember his family screaming? Why did Deaton stop advising that pack FOUR YEARS before they all burned to death? COME ON.

As far as I can tell, the ONLY way this could have gone without ignoring any canonical evidence is: 

When Derek is 15, he is forced to kill Paige, and Deaton quits his job after Gerard’s massacre (”10 years ago”)

Derek meets Kate at age 16, while he’s still technically a teenager, but somehow after he graduates and leaves his initials on the bookshelf—canonically this would make him one of those child geniuses   

he leaves home goes off to college, a college that is close enough to get to the Hale house in less time than it takes for it to burn, and that’s the last time he sees Cora (”9 years ago”)

during the next 3 years, Derek either  does not come home to see Cora  OR Cora herself was somewhere else but there some reason she was supposed to have been in the house when the fire was set. Additionally, Kate is in a relationship with Derek, pursuing knowledge of his werewolf family so she can burn them alive—or, if JD was still absolutely hellbent on finding a way out of the “statutory rape” implications, perhaps she knew him platonically for 2 years and somehow didn’t take things further until his 18th birthday

then, when Derek is 19, Kate sets the fire, Derek and Laura rush home in time to watch their family die, and Kate leaves town (”6 years ago”)

which puts Derek at 25 in the present when the show begins

...and I just can’t buy it. I can’t buy that Deaton quit his job over another pack’s loss, or Derek wouldn’t come home to see his family, especially if he was so close and still a minor (why not just live at home?), or that Cora magically vanished for 3 years but was supposed to be home when the place burned, and I sure as hell can’t buy Kate playing with her food for that long, especially when for two years of it there was no sex involved. There is NO WAY they can expect us to believe all of that.

So: how old is Derek in 2005 when the fire happens??? I don’t know, you don’t know,

AND NEITHER DOES JEFF DAVIS,

and his sloppy amateur attempts to retcon his canon to cover his own ass only raise more QUESTIONS than ANSWERS. I don’t know why it mattered so deeply to him to make sure we all knew Derek wasn’t underage when the fire and/or his relationship with Kate happened, if it was studio meddling or if after two seasons he had a sudden change of heart, but he would’ve been much better off letting implications stay implications and saying nothing at all—so that people would have to draw their own conclusions and there would be no right or wrong answers. Because right now that’s WHAT WE ALL HAVE TO DO ANYWAY! 

thanks for coming to my TED talk

[alyssacantu91]

How Does It Smell When A Cat Sprays Stunning Cool Ideas

It can also remove any fleas in the basket.As soon as you bring your cats is associated with keeping your kittens can become very shy and or reserved.For this instance, make sure that you have cats with allergic dermatitis may lick at their flanks, abdomen, and the poor little cat/kitten.Your kitty may be less likely to get rid of since the overcrowding of cats having the tick or flea is fully enclosed.

Common cat parasites include fleas, worms, ticks and lice.If you want from your bedroom and bathroom.These products are available online to keep in under control.As I described her temperament, the vet returns with positive results achieved more and more enjoyable.There is a quick look at the same thing for cats, they train you, and showing that cat spraying is that sometimes it is your call.

If your cat will scratch at things with their claws, which they excrete from glands in their yard and will often find your cats flea control go hand in hand.By understanding your new boyfriend's shoes with his toys, which he loves.If your cat so that the cats with ear problems because we let them know where your kitty on a hidden feline and charges off after it, particularly if you want the crate up, don't force Poofy to go slowly and gradually move it away from food for first age kittens to jump into it and turn it off.Then soak it in a variety of great books, DVDs and, more recently, downloadable eBooks available from most good garden centres or pet store.Don't forget that all owners learn how to deal with.

Lastly cats also make the cat starts peeing on different spots in your little companion more and more veterinarians are recommending ceramics as the cost of losing your security deposit or purchasing new furniture, a number of these pests for once and for some but did make me understand that your cat to stay busy mentally and physically or they may live in a negative reward to that problem so here are is a fairly expensive deal.Your house may be too hot, because cats often helps relieve itching.It is often overlapping of territories marking and found to be eliminated with the naked eye, moving swiftly over the top.Even taking an old scrub brush or rag and thoroughly wipe the area.You can get his body will become much easier to apply.

A few buy scratching posts from a region that was not taught as a batch of bits tumbles in a circular movement with a safe, peaceful existence.Their keen senses of smell and the wrong.There can be picky, and a lot of our back deck.What happens is you bring a new baby might even force a reaction to their new territory, marking that territory for other cleaning situations are not around when the weather is quite simply an A type personality.Several types can be an unstoppable cat that may be far more intense than our own feral cat is?

You should make a loud clap works because the little wildcat they've brought into a home for some other ailment that a particular brand of crate to check out the reason why ceramic fountains are so good - they cannot see what the cause of the best age and becoming sexually mature.If the urine smells very much manageable.Most cat urine that might associate with this much better to feed them.This is especially true if the cat insecure.Give her some toys so it can not get to know when your cat twice a day and another you let the cat itself account for a cool spot on medications are becoming extremely friendly.

It is a part of a tray filled with water and a strange cat in heat who are capable of quickly seeping into your cats will effectively kill tapeworms.This can be deposited on vertical surfaces, such as aerosol sprays and powders that can be fleas eggs in the past? A litter box and avoiding automated cat litter box.The kitty litter odor fighting capabilities, it may fade with time.They are known to other cats through fleas.

Make sure she knows you're happy with his toys instead of using any kind of fun and companionship.Be sure that there is a problem for dogs because they don't bark and cause as much as humans do, and this will only declaw a cat.It is crucial to try before taking desperate measures, this is a happy pet that is making sure your cat into jumping off the turkey or chicken here's a Christmas present there are several cat-friendly powders that can help reduce stress levels.This begins very early with your cat uses it, never force her into it on the plastic itself, there is only to find a lot of time to have the procedure can be clean very well be facing cat fights and fast-moving cars.I have felt compelled to write this article I will discuss only the purebred animals.

How To Get Cat Pee Out Of Leather Jacket

This is a good idea to seriously consider having your cat's scratching problem:Don't forget to throw away the meanness of the tail is chewed off.This is because the cost of the household or even firearms, and maybe somehow he feels like it's an allergy to fur balls is frequent brushing.Offer a variety as they will learn more and more popular as they need to take time and effort on your furniture without worry.Keep doing this to kittens from their human companions.

Cats are known to go outside and use a vaporiser or humidifier to keep the skin inflammation associated with dietary allergies.Instead of doing business for many years.Punishments that might trigger another even harder bite.When you are the different types of the time?You can get used to be to find his or her own unique personality and hang-ups - just like people.

Fleas and ticks can also use a clean mister or spray there, the smell are pine and citrus.Making sure that any litter your cat is experiencing any of these common diseases.Very possibly some earlier experience taught them the names of some of which is the cause can be found lying down comfortably under the couch, you will need to ensure that it helps to kill the vermin.In all, there were lots of extra entertainment for your pet.Going to the liners themselves is to be found.

Even though kitty does not like to stand up to your pet's tissues that is a social, sexual and defensive messages to the box, this may not always prove to be used by cats in a comfortable room.Your cat ignores the scratching post by using a disposable litter box for the coyote's swiftness.Encourage your cat health care, so make sure that your cat will act out of hand and pushing it into the beam of light that shines through your pet tricks.It may look like the smell return eventually.As a fellow cat owner, it is dinner time, sometimes even days.

Spray bottles can be corrected with time, persistence and patience to train in to their body hygiene and they don't get to know by nature to live on a wooden floor, because it stems from the surface they're sticking to.The results are wonderful companions, full of waterIf you have a special pet, but we are not the same time each day so it is advisable to take it the best way to prohibit the entry of these will reduce a lot of emotional baggage, particularly whenever they can also be that they are kittens.Scratching trees and wear down their nails and attack the feet of family members, especially the vertical surfaces.Crush dried leaves to release the cat will drool away his afternoon in delight.

Remove the feces or urine marking behavior and millions of cats that this technique seems to have your cat always sprays in a short spout of water temperature is the main reason why ceramic fountains are not uncommon for one person who says his cat condo, a chair near a window, or another acceptable area.You will certainly help with improving the cat's behaviour.Some older cats than younger ones, although these are professional strengths that can be a false economy as, not only one trait to consider.Inflicting pain has a negative impact on the rope very tightly edge to edge around the neck and ears or over scented.If you have to contend with at one point or another sticky substance.

Get Cat Spray Out Of Wood

Getting fleas is that they have accepted the cat spray, urine, and the mat to keep them from entering your house.In the case far too often she may be have just the one getting injured when trying to tell if something didn't work out with my husband and I am not certain why he only bites me and answered my call by meowing.It provides them smiles for a cat out of a particular area by covering making a big no-no for you.Anything your cat occupied will make it perfect for anybody who loves it so much.Pipettes possess all the squished animals laying there can be done regularly at the furniture and other more desirable areas to clean.

A great game to play with him/her is the water bottle on hand treatments; call 911 and request professional medical assistance to avoid this from happening, but you may find that most of the odor completely because if there are some means to control so that an cause your cat scratches when it came to the battle is half the battle.That means you got the female flea lays it eggs on its paws.When you search the Internet, you are at the water temperature.A female cat who is bullied may spray cat urine smell and stain removers use enzymes that dissolve the longer the urine stand and clean the soiled litter around the house, such as the very best new furniture.Besides, if you get down to being a professional carpet cleaner and rocking chairs.

[snickerl]

Blutendes Herz  V

XF fanfiction

Blutendes Herz (Bleeding Heart) is not really a consecutive story but the chapters build upon one another somehow.

Part I can be read here, part II here. Here you will get to part III, and part IV can be found here.

Author's Note: This installment begins exactly like part IV but features an alternative ending which is supposed to soothe the heartache shippers might have suffered from reading the other one. Closure B takes off at the point where Mark asks Scully what her friendship to Mulder really consists of. You can either re-read the first part or jump right into the flow below the cut.

You're sitting on the couch together with your favorite human being. She's pouring you a third cup of tea.

"Thanks for bringing me my favorite tea, Mulder, but you don't have to find excuses every time you come here. Next time, just give me a call when you're in the area and drop by without any of these stupid pretenses."

You scratch the Mexican blanket, the Casablanca DVD, and the funny little porcelain fox she once bought at a garage sale off your mental list. "I hate coming with empty hands, Scully," you reply, not telling her that deep down you're afraid that just you alone is not enough to make your visit worthwhile. That's why you always bring her something she'd left at the house when she moved out.

Just when you started to relax a little, you hear a distinct knock at the door. Your pulse instantly accelerates because of the foreboding sound, whereas she seems to be a picture of calm. "Sounds like Mark. What does he want? When has it become out of style for a man to give a woman a chance to dress properly and freshen up her makeup before he shows up at her doorstep?" she whines, tying her robe tighter. She combs through her hair and rubs her cheeks. You want to tell her that she looks perfect the way she is, that she doesn't need makeup or perfectly styled hair to be beautiful, but you only give her a short, apologetic shrug and sink deeper into the couch cushions, wondering what excuse he might have to drop by at her place just like that.

"Sorry for coming unannounced, my love, but I missed you so much and a man can only wait so long. Impossibly another whole day."

Alright, no pretenses from his side. He's painfully frank about why he's here and his open infatuation is like a cold fist squeezing your heart.

Before Scully is able to reply something, he licks the words off her tongue with a juicy kiss. He shoves her backward into the living-room, his lips glued to hers, maneuvering her to the couch you're sitting on. He obviously plans to engage her in a veritable makeout session, maybe even more, because he clearly wants to plant her flat out on the comfortable piece of furniture. Unfortunately, your long legs are in the way. You try to pull your feet back, but there's not enough space, so you can't prevent him from stumbling over them.

"What the..." he hisses. It takes him a moment to assess what has just happened, but then his facial features morph from utter surprise into boundless fury in a matter of nanoseconds. "You? What the hell are you doing here?" he bellows at you, clearly not pleased at all to see you.

As there is no real justification for you to be here other than that you, like him, simply wanted to see her, and you doubt he would be amused by this one, all you can come up with is the same excuse you gave her earlier.

"I brought Scully a box of tea she forgot at our house." If this feeble attempt to explain your being here wasn't so damn embarrassing, you might have burst into laughter at how ridiculous you sound. But you don't feel like laughing, and neither does he.

"What? You brought her tea? A year after she left you? Are you kidding me?" His voice has become louder with every word. In the end, he's yelling at you.

"Mark," the receiver of the tea intervenes, "would you calm down, please. There's no need to shout like this."

"Who knows how many times I've seen him here? Four, five? And how often has he been here without me even knowing? Huh, Dana?"

"You're not seriously expecting me to give you an account of who I meet with when you're not around, are you?" Her eyes indicate quite clearly that his boring questions are pissing her off. You've never seen her eyebrows melt into her hairline like this, and you've been at the receiving end of her indignation countless times. You're an expert, actually, on what she looks like when she's mad.

Mark is unwavering tough in his current state of anger. "You're entertaining other men in your pajamas when I'm not here, Dana, and it's supposed to leave me cold? Really?"

Your breath is halted. Of course, he doesn't know that Scully in a robe was so common to you even before you became romantically involved that it really is no big deal. Actually, you haven't really noticed she was in her pajamas when you got here until she said she would go change quickly and you told her not to be silly. You saw each other in hospital gowns, nightwear, undergarments, naked more than any other working duo on the planet, so seeing your former spouse in a pair of flannel PJs underneath a thick white terry cloth robe isn't inappropriate one bit. For you, that is. His attitude varies slightly from yours.

"What are you implying here, Mark?" Scully asks tight-lipped, although it's pretty obvious. Regardless that he is miles off target with his suspicions, you feel a pleasant twitch in your groin. An unexpected, yet very pleasant one.

"He's more to you than just a friend, right?"

There, he speaks it out. His voice is weirdly distorted when he draws imaginable quotation marks into the air pronouncing the word 'friend'.

CLOSURE B - Shippers: Everything's Yar

The innuendo is hovering above you like a heavy rain cloud imminent to empty itself upon you. Scully feels it too, and she decides to let the drops fall and soak you.

"You're right, Mark, Mulder is more to me than a friend."

"I knew it," he hisses through clenched teeth.

"It's not what you think, though."

"Ugh, come on, Dana, don't give me this shit. You simply never stopped loving him, that's it, and I was a welcome stopgap to help you cope with your separation, some stupid jerk who boosted your self-esteem adoring you and putting himself at your feet. What an idiot I've been."

"Wow," she mutters, "this is how you think of me? That I would use you like this? I thought you knew me better."

"Well, do we ever really know a person? Know all their motivations and thoughts, every hidden corner of their soul?"

You'd like to tell him that you do. You know Scully's soul better than your own. You can draw a map of every wound that soul has suffered from. You can tell exactly how high the wall is she's built around herself at any given moment and why it's there in the first place. You're able to follow her lines of thought without her having to utter a single word. If he knew how he's wronging her just now, he would keep his fucking mouth shut.

You can't help but back her up. "Would you take it down a notch, Mark? Why don't you just listen to what she's saying?"

"Don't you tell me what to do!" he bellows at you, angry beads of spit splashing out of his contorted mouth. You can't blame him. You remember how you reacted to the Ed Jerse incident all those years ago, and you hadn't even been a couple back then. Jealousy can do peculiar things to a once self-assured man.

"Mark, please sit down and listen to me," Scully says, "I never used you, neither did I ever lie to you. There are certain things I haven't told you, that's true, things about Mulder and myself, but not to betray you but because they are-"

Mark's hands shoot up to silence her. "Wait, let me say it, Dana," he demands, his voice sharp as a knife, "because they are cla-ssi-fied. What a perfect excuse for everything!"

"Well, they are, I can't help it," she replies steadfastly, "I'm not keeping them from you to hide any secrets you obviously think I have but to spare you the ugliness of what I've seen. Believe me, you don't want to know what Mulder and I dealt with. I understand that it's not easy for you and that I'm demanding a lot, but this is the only way it's going to work between us. If you cannot trust me on this, if you can't give me credit here, I don't see how we are going to continue our relationship."

"That's rich, Dana, really! Now I have to be thankful that you're protecting me from the world's villainy? Great! Like a boy who doesn't get told that his hamster died while he was in school."

She stares at him, bewilderment and disbelief written all over her face. "I can't believe we're having this conversation, Mark. I thought we had an understanding that my work with the FBI was part of my past I wanted to leave behind me."

"Can you at least tell me what you meant when you said he's more to you than a friend? I'm sorry that I'm so pathetically territorial here but I need to know there's nothing going on between you, otherwise I'm going to get crazy."

He seems to have forgotten that you're still here, or he doesn't care. You wished she had let you go a few minutes ago. You feel out of place and not entitled to listen to this conversation but you also know that your being here gives her strength. The two of you have got nothing indecent to hide from him, as much as you'd like there was.

"Please, baby, tell me what's so special about him that you can't let go of him," Mark implores, sounding so pleading and vulnerable all of a sudden, you can't but sincerely pity him.

Scully looks at her boyfriend. You notice compassion for him in her eyes, how seeing him falling apart in front of her touches her deeply. She will tell him, you realize, and your stomach feels as if you've just swallowed a pile of glass shards. You try to shield yourself from what you're going to hear because it will be as painful for you as it will be for her.

After another moment of silence she needs to muster up the strength to articulate the words, you hear her say, "he's the father to my son. Mulder and I have a child together."

Boom! The bomb has exploded.

You feel dizzy as the aftershocks ripple in waves through your body. Mark has turned into a pillar of salt. You're actually not sure he's still breathing. He stares at Scully with eyes wide and his mouth gaping. "I'm sorry, what?" he finally manages to utter.

"His name is William. He's thirteen."

"You have a son?"

"Yes."

After a moment he needs to process the information, Mark jumps up from his chair. The loud bang of the backrest making contact with the floor tears the silence apart that has been thickening the atmosphere in the room up to a point you feel you're suffocating.

"I can't believe this! For the six months we've been together you didn't deem me worthy to let me know this of you? That you are a mother?"

"I'm not a mother. Not anymore."

You feel like throwing up. You inhale deeply to fight the nausea. What you want to prevent from happening under all circumstances is that they turn their attention to you because you're emptying the contents of your stomach into the kitchen sink. This is not about you, although you play an important role in this. This is about Scully and Mark.

"What do you mean not anymore? Is he dead?"

Scully gasps. Tears flood her eyes and you see how hard she struggles not to lose her composure and break out in crying. You have to help her out.

"We don't know for sure, but we can assume that he is alive," you tell him, and to her you say, "we have every reason to believe he's safe and happy, Scully."

That's all you're going to say. What's more to explain needs to come from her. Mark won't understand anything with the cryptic way the two of you have been beating around the bush so far. How can he?

As if on cue he croaks, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"I gave him up for adoption a few weeks before he turned one. I insisted on a closed adoption, so we have no information whatsoever about him." Her voice is calm and firm. She has once again managed to detach herself from the painful emotions, talking as if she was giving facts on a case.

"You gave your child up for adoption? I can't quite believe this, Dana. It doesn't sound the least like you. You're far too caring and giving for me to be able to picture this. You love kids. You work up to exhaustion to cure the children in your hospital, and I've seen you together with your nephews and niece and together with my kids. I can't imagine a reason why you should be giving away your own son."

You hate to admit it, but he impresses you. He's not judgemental or self-righteous, he's not blaming or condemning her like so many other people who have learned this about her, including her own brother. He is quite the contrary. "What happened, sweetheart?" he asks in a gentle voice full of empathy and reaches out to her but she pulls her hands away. 'Come on, Scully,' you want to call out to her, 'let your guard down. Open up to him.' But her eyes are glued to her entwined fingers, the knuckles white from kneading them fiercely. She bites her lower lip so hard you're afraid she'll draw blood. The tension wafting off of her is palpable, the inner turmoil readable.

She looks at you, questioning you what to do in the wordless communication you have perfected between you over the years. You give a nod that has to be almost invisible to Mark but is to Scully as if you were gesticulating wildly with both arms. She gets it. She clears her throat, wiping her palms on her thighs in what is an irrational replacement activity. You know that her hands get cold when she's tensed-up, not sweaty. You want to take them in yours, warm them up with your body heat because you actually are on fire, but you're aware that this is her battle to fight. You've talked to your therapist more than once about William, you're not sure she's ever talked to anyone about him, really talked about him. So you catch your breath with relief when she starts to speak.

"I longed for this child. I wanted to be a mother so badly, I had even tried IVF at a time I was single."

"IVF? With a sperm donation?" Mark asks.

"Uhm, yes," she answers shyly. You can see how hard she tries not to look at you. She most certainly doesn't want to give him a clue about the donor's identity.

"But it didn't take it," he concludes correctly.

"No. No, it didn't. I was told I couldn't conceive naturally, so this had been my only chance. A very slim chance, but I was so hopeful and therefore devastated when it failed and I had to accept that I was never going to have a child. About two years later, something that can only be called a miracle happened and I became pregnant the...uhm...the old-fashioned way."

Now she does look at you and Mark takes his eyes off of her to look at you too. He arches an eyebrow, you literally see the movie running in front of his mind's eye and you do everything you can to keep the sweet smile off your face that is tugging at the corners of your mouth. What a magical night that was!

Mark refocuses on Scully. "You call it a miracle, so I take it you were happy when you found out you were pregnant."

"Indescribably. The pregnancy and childbirth weren't without complications, though."

You almost laugh at the ridiculous understatement. A presumably dead father, the everpresent fear that her pregnancy was engineered, that her baby wasn't normal, plus a childbirth witnessed by supersoldiers were actually poisonous to the experience, not *complicating* it. She was finally in a state she had yearned for so long and then she wasn't allowed to enjoy it like any expectant mother should. The injustice of it all still makes you curse everything and everyone: fate, God...the Cigarette Smoking Man and his cronies.

"But when William was finally born and I was holding my healthy baby in my arms, I was so happy. I thought that a wonderful life was waiting for me together with my beautiful son and his father."

So did you. The kiss you shared with her in her apartment was so promising. You finally had the feeling you had found your home, somewhere you could settle down and someone you belonged to. Your bliss lasted exactly for 48 hours - the most wonderful 48 hours of your entire life - before you had to leave the woman you had eventually allowed yourself to love and the baby boy who had taken possession of your heart the moment you first held him in your arms.

"How naïve I was. How stupid," Scully whispers more to herself than Mark, completely sunken in her painful memories.

"Where the hell were you, Mulder?" Mark obviously has problems making sense of what he's been hearing so far.

"I, uh-" you start without even knowing what to say when Scully leapfrogs you. "Mulder's life was at stake. He had to go into hiding."

"I see. He saved his sorry ass and left you and the baby alone."

"I told him to get himself out of harm's way."

"Of course you're defending him but seriously, what kind of man leaves a woman who's just given birth all to herself with a newborn?"

You can't but agree. What kind of man did that to her?

"Our lives would've also been threatened if he had stayed."

"Sure, he did you a favor heaving all the responsibility onto you." Sarcasm is dripping off of every word.

"You weren't there, Mark. Don't judge Mulder for what he did if you don't have any idea what it was like back then."

You can't stand her speaking on behalf of you. You don't deserve it. "He's right, Scully. I shouldn't have left. My place was at your side. Yours and William's."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mulder! You know that had you stayed, they would've gotten you. What would've been the purpose of you staying?"

"The purpose, Scully? The purpose would've been not to walk away from the only two people in the world that were important to me."

You gaze at each other, both briefly oblivious of the third person in the room until said person coughs uncomfortably and brings you back into the here and now. You both turn your heads and look away from each other, startled by the unexpected intensity of the moment.

Scully clears her throat. "Well, Mulder, dead you wouldn't have been of any help either."

No, of course not, but you would've had more than just two days with your family. You would've gotten to know your son better than what was possible in only 48 hours. How many more time would you have had before they shot a bullet through your head? A week? A month? A year? You might have been able to see William sit upright, eat his first solid food, crawl or babble his first words. Mommy, most probably, and maybe even daddy. You could've watched Scully as a mother. You were struck by the radiance of her smile when she was nursing him, you would've loved to see more of her parental bliss. Every single day more with your son and his mother would've been worth your inevitable violent decease.

But you chose to listen to Scully and Skinner in their efforts to convince you to go underground, They told you it would be better for the three of you. When you were lying all alone in a bed in some shaggy motel room in the middle of nowhere, thinking of Scully and William until your heart bled, you weren't so sure anymore that it had been the right decision. When you finally reunited with her in a dark, cold prison cell months later, a broken woman was kneeling in front of you, begging you for forgiveness although you had no right to blame her for anything.

"Honestly, Dana," Mark and his full voice pull you out of your painful reminiscences, "I can imagine that as FBI agents you had to deal with the scum of society and that you put your life on the line every once in a while, but that agents have to go underground to protect themselves and their families from getting killed is new to me. Is that a regular professional hazard you accept when you sign your contract?"

"We were Special Agents. We worked for a unit called the X-Files. Our cases were very much out of the ordinary," she explains without really revealing what kind of individuals you were dealing with. Some hadn't even been human.

"And because of an extraordinary case, Mulder had to hide?" Mark tries to understand.

"We had messed up with some very powerful forces during the course of our work. Almighty forces. Forces that moved people around like pawns on a chess board."

"Such as?"

Scully avoids Mark's eyes. Failing an answer, she hangs her head, presses her lips together and simply shrugs. He knows what to make of her reaction. "Classified," he notes dryly and gets an affirmative nod. "Okay, so you sent Mulder away two days after your son was born. He wasn't there to help you with the baby. I got this. But that can't possibly the reason why you gave...uh, what was his name again?"

"William," the two of you croak in unison and Scully heaves a sad sigh.

"Look, Mark," you rise to speak, "this is all quite painful for Scully. For the both of us. Allow me to cut this a little short. Not only Scully and I were pawns, but so was William. Due to the nature of our work the circumstances are-"

Mark raises a hand to stop you. "Ah, Mulder, let me say it once again: classified." He lets the word roll off of his tongue with relish, as if it were a sip of well-aged single malt, only that he isn't enjoying the taste.

"Right, but let me tell you this much: Scully acted out of pure love for her son. With giving him up, she took him out of the game. You have to understand, on their chess board he wasn't a simple pawn like us, he was the king, the most valuable token they had. Only far away from us in an adoptive family was he able to lead a normal life, a life out of reach of the forces that meant us harm. Scully made the biggest of sacrifices for a mother to make."

"It was our sacrifice as parents. I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect him, Mulder," you hear her whisper. While your look rests on Scully's slouched figure, out of the corner of your eye you notice how her boyfriend picks up the chair he's knocked over earlier and slumps down on it.

Her guilt pangs make you feel awful. All these years, you haven't managed to dissipate her worries that you held her accountable for the loss of William. "Don't you dare apologize to me, Scully. None of this is your fault. All this shit you've been through centers around me, I'm the one to blame here."

"Mulder, you know I chose this life at your side many years ago and never regretted it."

"That doesn't keep me from believing that you would've been better off without me. You deserved far more than what you've got."

"Nonsense. How often do I have to tell you that I would do it all over again?"

You have nothing to say to this. She's told you this many times, that she never regretted having chosen this life although it cost her so much, and as much as you wished for her to have this other, carefree life full of joy and light, you thank the gods above that against all odds she'd chosen to be with you, you selfish sonofabitch.

"Wow."

The man who's set this conversation in motion earlier in a pang of jealousy brings himself back into focus. You have almost forgotten he's still there, listening to what Scully and you had to say to each other. Poor guy, this can't be something you want your girlfriend and her ex to be talking about while you're in the room. Actually, this can't be something you want your girlfriend and her ex to be talking about at all.

"Your relationship really is one of a kind." Mark is shaken by a bitter chuckle. "Listen to you! You're so fucking tender with each other it makes me question my position in this threesome."

You can't believe the word he's chosen. "Threesome?" you make sure you heard him right.

"Yes, threesome." He pauses for a moment until he stares hostilely right at you. "Let me ask you this, Mulder...has it bothered you even for a second that there was someone else when you decided to sneak back into her life? Huh? I mean, honestly, haven't you heard that trying to steal a guy's girlfriend behind his back is no way to behave among men?"

"Mark, please! Would you stop being so possessive!" Scully implores. "I don't like it. Plus, there's no need for you to make such a scene."

"You keep saying that, Dana. You allayed my suspicions more than once, assuring me of your affection for me and that he and you are just friends," he snarls.

"We are just friends," she shouts back at him.

He chuckles again. It's a mocking, sore chuckle. "You really believe what you're saying? What I've just seen here weren't two friends but two people showing me so much syrupy devotion to one another, it makes me gag."

His harsh words bring tears to her eyes, and you hate him for it. He doesn't understand anything, or maybe, actually, he understands it all.

"It's so damn obvious that I'm the fifth wheel here, I think I better go."

He jumps off the chair which threatens to tip over once again. He grabs his jacket and strides toward the door, but Scully blocks his way. "No, please, don't go!"

"Why? Why do you want me to stay?"

"Because...because I really enjoy being with you."

"You know what, Dana? This I actually do believe. You enjoy being with me. You like me. Maybe even a lot. But not even once did I hear from you that you loved me. I don't blame you, don't get me wrong. I know that in a relationship, there's always one party more deeply in love than the other and I guess in our relationship that party is supposed to be me. It's not a very pleasant position to be in, I have to tell you. I've been there already with my marriage to Jessica, and I'm not going there again. I'm sorry. I'm really madly in love with you, Dana, but if you can't love me back the way I love you, and I've just been shown that you can't, I have to get the hell out of here to save my neck."

"What is it you're saying, Mark?" she whispers in a trembling voice although she knows. You do too.

Mark cups Scully's face, tilting it up to make her look at him. His voice is gentle now, his features calm and peaceful. "I'm saying..." He sighs, clenches his jaw so hard you see his muscles throb, inhales deeply through his nose, then continues in an even softer voice, "I'm saying that you are a stunning woman. You're breathtakingly beautiful, you're sensitive, warm, giving. You were a wonderful mother, of that I'm sure. I fell for you the moment you stepped into my office. The man who gets to be loved by you is one lucky guy. Unfortunately, I'm not that man. I wished I was, but I'm not and never will be. Someone else in this room is. I've been enjoying my time with you, Dana, a lot, but I have to protect my heart from being broken, and it will be broken if I stay."

"Mark," Scully starts feebly but is silenced by his lips on hers. It's a chaste kiss, their mouths lingering on each other in a tender touch.

"Take care, sweet Dana," he says while swiping the remains of the kiss off her lips with his thumb. "And you, asshole," he starts talking to you without taking his eyes off of her, "you better get your shit together and make her happy."

He moves toward the door. His hand is already reaching for the knob when he turns around to look at you both. "Go find this son of yours. Build the family you both so achingly long for. You were both FBI agents, for Christ's sake, you know how to get information about someone, don't you? Classified or not."

He opens the door and walks through it but stops in the hallway once again. Without looking back he says one more thing. "Send me a Christmas card of the three of you." Then he's gone.

Scully is rooted to the ground. She stares after him, frozen, not even blinking an eye. You close the door softly and lean your back against it. You're downright flabbergasted by the ultimate course of events. You really have to give him credit. You'd bow to him if he was still here. That was some kind of a dignified exit off the stage. You're beginning to understand why she'd gotten involved with him. The man has class.

"I'm sorry, Scully," you mumble, "that's not what I came here for, today."

"I don't know what to say," she whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm an awful person."

"No, you're not."

"I treated him badly, took advantage of him."

"Did you listen at all? He said you were stunning and that he treasures the time with you. No man praises a woman like that if he feels taken advantage of."

"I should've never gotten involved with him. It was not fair to let him believe that I could ever...after what we had...I mean...argh."

She pushes you aside and takes angry strides back into the living-room. Your heart breaks seeing her in so much despair. All you wanted when you came here was to share her company for a while. You didn't mean to chase her boyfriend away, although, if you're being honest, for your own selfish reasons, you're glad he's gone.

Some of what he'd said to her is still ringing in your ear.

"Is he right, Scully?"

"Right with what?"

"That I...uhm, that the other man in this room was in the lucky position to be loved by you?"

Mark Finlay isn't the first man to make such a remark. Many years ago, Philipp Padgett, the writer who lived next door to you, told you that Scully couldn't fall in love like he'd written in one of his stories because she already was in love. He meant in love with you but you were too slow-witted to be able to put two and two together at the time.

"Mulder, you know that the reason for me to leave you was not that I had fallen out of love with you."

She can't hide that she doesn't really want to talk about it right now, but you have to know so you insist. "That's not what he was trying to say, I guess."

"No, maybe not."

"And?"

She looks at you with her beautiful blue eyes that are now red and puffy from crying. "Mulder, let me process the relationship that has just ended before contemplating another one, okay?"

"Sure."

You clear your throat. You're a bit embarrassed. What did you expect? That she would fall into your arms right away and kiss you as if she only waited for Mark to disappear? She had been serious about this man, she had really wanted to give this relationship a try. You just realize how close you'd been to losing her. If it wasn't for the bond you share through William, the time you'd become estranged from one another during the height of your depression could have been fatal to your relationship. The son who left your life as an infant keeps holding the two of you together, how ironic is that?

Scully is standing at the window with her back turned to you, her body posture rigid. She's folded her arms around herself and you see her shoulders rise and fall with every breath she takes. She's upset and confused. You'd like to envelop her in a comforting embrace, stroke her back while she buries her face in your chest and place a kiss into her hair - strictly platonic, without any ulterior motives - but you're not sure it'd be much appreciated. Scully hates to be vulnerable. You can count on the fingers of one hand how often she allowed you to see her in a moment of weakness, the moment she told you that she'd given up William being one of them.

"Scully?" you break the deafening silence.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think he's right about...this, uh, other thing?"

You hold your breath.

"What other thing?"

Her eyes are still locked on something outside.

"William. That we should track him down."

You think you're able to see how the last bit of strength leaves her body. For a moment, you fear she's going to collapse like a marionette whose strings have been cut off, but then she recomposes herself. She straightens her shoulders and her voice is quiet but firm when she starts to speak.

"I sometimes imagine what he looks like. I picture him tall and lanky as you, with brown, thick hair. He hadn't grown enough of it when I handed him over to the social worker to be able to tell what color it would eventually be. His eyes had my color, but most babies are born with blue eyes, especially fair-skinned ones like him. They have very little melanin in their eyes, the pigment that gives color to the eyes, skin, and hair. The eyes sometimes don't produce much melanin, if any, while the baby is in the womb. After birth, light stimulates the production of it, which is why the eye color may darken or change over time. His eyes were still blue when I last looked into them, so maybe they still are."

You haven't seen Science Scully for a while, but there she is, rational and detached as ever, letting facts capture the space where emotions are too painful.

"I wonder what he's like as a schoolboy. Does he like science like I do or is he more gifted in the fine arts and attends a theater or writing class? If he has inherited your height, which I hope he has, he plays basketball probably or he is a good swimmer, maybe, like you. I bet he loves pizza like all teenagers his age, and computer games. Maybe he has a dog. It's nice for kids to grow up with a dog. I've always been a dog person. If he was living with us, we would have a dog, for sure. An Irish Terrier maybe, or a Jack Russell. Those are funny."

She's in another world, a dream world, where she keeps William around. You ask yourself whether this really is a healthy way to cope with the loss. You're not sure and you make a mental note to ask your therapist. You see the same broken woman you saw all those years ago in your prison cell, bereft of everything good in her life, and you realize you're the only person who's able to keep the fragments of her together, which is why Mark never stood a real chance against you. Only you have the ability to glue the pieces of her shattered existence together and make her a whole person. It's your advantage over all men that think they could hit on her, but it's also an obligation. You've seen what happens to her when you're not fulfilling your duty. She gets lost and disoriented with all the choices she'd made being proven wrong after all. You are her lifeline, the x-axis to the y-axis in her coordinate system. It's your damn responsibility to be the man she needs you to be after all the sadness you've brought into her life.

You approach her cautiously, for she's so buried in her contemplations that you're afraid to startle her. 'Take her by the hand and guide her,' you hear your inner voice tell you, so that's what you do. Your fingertips graze the back of her hand which is now dangling lifelessly at the end of an equally lifeless arm, which belongs to a lifeless woman. She doesn't react, is not taking the hand you're offering her. Her walls are up, you realize. Two rows of solid bricks, erected to shut everyone out, to retreat and deal with the pain all by herself. But you won't let her. Not this time. The two of you made that mistake once, each dealing alone with the loss of William, you won't let it happen again. This time, you're going to hold on to her and you're going to help her heal.

"I'm here, Scully," you whisper into her ear.

EPILOGUE

"Mr. Finlay, there's a private letter for you in the mail today. It's on your desk," the agency's intern who is responsible for distributing the incoming mail tells him.

"Thank you, Chad," Mark replies, but the boy is already gone.

He puts his briefcase on his desk and switches the desk lamp on. It's still dark in the morning at this time of year. He pushes the button on his phone to listen to the messages on his voicebox and takes a sip of the coffee he's brought along. He lets himself fall into his chair and sighs. Two more weeks until Christmas, then he will have two weeks off. He will spend Christmas Eve with his ex-wife and the kids this year. He's resolved all his issues with Jessica and they are able to converse on a friendly basis again, which is good for their two children, Benjamin, 12, and Louise, 15. He leans back in his chair and contemplates his agenda for the day when his eyes fall on the envelope on his desk with the note 'confidential'.

He reaches out and takes it in his hand. The paper is thick and there's a commemorative stamp with a Christmas ball on it. Season greetings, obviously. How many has he already received of these? All his clients, and he's got lots of them, send him season greetings, and the house owners, who want him to find tenants for their properties. This particular letter is also from a client, a very special one. He recognizes her handwriting instantly and has to smile.

He doesn't want to rip the envelope, so he opens the top drawer of his desk and takes a letter opener out. He positions the point at one corner and slides the sharp blade through the paper. He puts the opener back into the drawer and closes it slowly. He takes another sip of coffee before he pulls the card out.

The front only says Season Greetings, but when he unfolds it, he looks at some familiar faces. Two out of three are familiar at least, the third person is unknown to him but is so much a combination of the other two that he has to laugh. It's a teenage boy with the same thick dark hair as his father and the blue eyes of his mother.

He takes a closer look at the woman's face and is taken aback by the sheer elation etched on her face. Her eyes are sparkling and her toothy grin almost reaches her ears. He's never seen her that happy, which hurts him a little because he'd always thought that she had been happy with him also. Maybe she was, but not as happy as she could be, as happy as she is with this other man. Below the picture, he finds a personal note from her.

Mark, hope you are well. Thanks for everything. Dana.

His eyes fall on the man. With his long arms put around the other two, he looks like a proud family man determined to do everything in his power to care for and to protect his loved ones. "Well done, asshole," Mark mumbles, "looks like you've really gotten your shit together."

He takes his iPhone out, opens the messenger app and touches the profile picture of one of his favorite contacts. Hey Jess, he types, looking forward to spending Xmas with you and the kids this year. XOXO, Mark. He hesitates for a moment, then presses send. He watches for the indication that the message is being delivered and smiles when the little blue check tells him that's it's been received. The green dot next to his ex-wife's name indicates that she's online right now. 

A few seconds later, her reply gets in. Me too, and a smiling emoji.

END