#maybe teresa? i love her

[lovelydrusilla]

patrick jane's pro tip: don't let a little murder investigation prevent you from driving your crush around, making sure she knows you like it, getting food together and staring deeply into her eyes

[vorkerax]

for Irene being my favorite character I have barely drawn her

time to change that

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 18

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of body dysmorphia, mentions of an eating disorder, mentions of weight loss, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy (don't worry, it's nothing), depression and anxiety

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!cheerleader!reader

Summary: A conversation with a girl that you had been trying to avoid, leaves you more confused than ever -- it might just be the cause of a storm in your heart.

Word count: 6k

A/N: BIG BIG BIG SHOUTOUT TO THE LITTLE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER AKA @hellfire--cult thank you so much for helping me, with this chapter especially! I was struggling with the dialogue at the end of this chapter and you were such a big help so thank you -- you're talented, amazing, show-stopping, perfect, thank you for helping me with the dialogues (and so many other ideas) mwah! You guys better follow her and give her stories the love they deserve

series masterlist

-

The gym is filled with girls dressed in their cheer uniforms, the color green is starting to give you a headache, just like the sound of giggles and hushed whispers as the girls next to you talk about the latest gossip. Another supposed breakup. 

This time it’s Tommy and Carol again. 

Just three weeks back, you heard rumors about Steve and Nancy’s apparent breakup,  which turned out to be just a rumor, considering you’ve seen them together – maybe less than before but they are still around each other, laughing and smiling just like before. 

Clearly, they are still together. 

But teenagers love to make up rumors – especially about people like you and Steve. Despite both yours and his fall down the social ladder, you are still the hot topics of the school. 

They love to make up rumors about your relationship or past relationship with Steve and your friendship with Eddie – or as they still like to call him, the freak. 

Apparently you and Eddie had been seen making out in his van. 

Apparently you and Eddie have been in a secret relationship since august, last year. 

Apparently you cheated on the king with the freak. 

Apparently the satan worshiper had cursed your relationship with the king – so he could have you. 

Apparently you are pregnant with Eddie’s baby and living in his trailer. 

Apparently you and Eddie are in love and secretly married – at least, you understand that rumor. The matching rings on both yours and his ring finger may have been the cause of it. 

The pregnancy rumor made you physically sick – it made you stand in front of the mirror, checking for signs that you had gained weight. You did not, it still made you feel nauseous and you had to cancel your dinner ‘date’ with your friends. 

A sigh falls from your lips when you hear Teresa talking about her future in college – Princeton to be exact. Of course the cute brunette has it all, beauty and brains. The straight A student isn’t only one of the smartest students in Hawkins High, she is also one of the prettiest – cat eyes, a small nose and big lips, she is thin but her boobs are, well, they are huge. 

You wonder why you were ever crowned as the queen when girls like her exist. When girls like Heather and Chrissy exist. 

You wonder why Steve ever even looked your way. 

You look down at yourself, your uniform is perfectly ironed, your skin is soft and glowing after scrubbing and lathering it in moisturizer earlier this morning. You reach for the mirror in your bag, wanting to check on your makeup, one more time before the photoshooting. Your hair looks good, your make up looks good and yet, you still don’t like the way you look. 

“Well, don’t you look beautiful.” 

The frown on your face disappears when you hear his voice. Looking over your shoulder,  you see Eddie leaning against the doorframe. He is eying you with a smile on his face. He ignores all the nasty looks from the other cheerleaders before they continue getting ready for the little photo session with Jonathan – who is getting just as many nasty looks as Eddie does. 

You put the little mirror down and walk over to him, smoothing down your skirt as you take in the sight of him. He was forced to leave his leather jacket at home and he had already been whining about it since the early morning hours. Clad in his favorite jeans and a metallica shirt, you can’t help but miss the leather on his skin – it’s his staple piece but, it’s the end of May, much to Eddie’s dismay it’s too warm to walk around with vests and jackets. 

You like seeing his tattoos though and his hair in ponytail or a bun when it does get a little too warm. 

“Hi,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you halt in front of him. 

He smiles down at you, tapping your nose, “hey sweetheart.” 

“Wanna join the photo session?” You joke, gesturing to the girls who are still getting ready as Jonathan is setting up his tripod and his camera. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “give me a uniform and I’m in.”

Giggling, you shake your head, “your butt would look cute in a cheer skirt.”

“Oh, not as cute as yours,” he winks, grinning at you when you look away with a blush on your cheeks. 

“Are you enjoying the last day as the cheer captain?” 

“You have no idea how much I wanna get rid of that title,” you laugh, “I’m ready to give that position up to Chrissy.” 

You haven’t been loving cheerleading as much as you used to. Things changed, especially this year. 

“I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” 

“You and me both, sweetheart.” 

“You know, I always thought that I’d go to college after high school,” you say as you look around the room, “but now, I’m just lost. I wouldn’t even know what to major in if I did go to college a-and I don’t even know what college I’d go to – and why am I even stressing about it, it’s too late for that now–”

Eddie places his hands on your shoulders, “I thought we settled on not stressing about our future anymore.” 

“Yeah but–” 

“No buts,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re taking a gap year, you still got your job at the record store and I’ll work at the garage, we’ll save up some money this summer and then–”

“And then we’ll go on that road trip.”

“Exactly,” he smiles, “we’ve been planning it for weeks now, don’t let college ruin that.”

Your shoulders slump and you sigh, “I just, I hear all of them talking about college,” you pause, gesturing to the girls behind you, “a-and it makes me think that maybe it was a mistake not to apply to any.”

His eyes soften at the worry in your eyes, he shakes his head. 

“I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

“It’s not?” 

“No, you got all the time in the world to join all these boring people in the normal world,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “let’s live in our own world for a little longer,” he smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he fixes the bow in your ponytail. 

“Our dreams will be crushed the moment we step into the real world, let’s not let that happen so soon.”

You eye his face and curl of his lips as he stares at you. 

“Our own world,” you smile, nodding, “I think I like that more anyways.”

“Yeah?” He grins. 

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Good,” you repeat after him, making him chuckle. 

He tilts his head with a smile on his face, “did you do your make up differently?” 

“Uh yeah, I did pink eye shadow today,” you chuckle, “I’m surprised you noticed it, guys usually don’t pay attention to these things.”

“I’m offended that you think I’m one of those guys,” he jokes, placing his hand on his chest, “I notice everything about you, sweetheart.” 

He notices every slight change. A different hairstyle, new clothes, the new color of your lipstick, the slightest change in your behavior, your eating habits, your struggles. He notices it all. 

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” you smile but the look in your eyes isn’t genuine and it makes him frown. 

“Not as gorgeous as Teresa.”

“Who the fuck is Teresa,” he mumbles in confusion. 

You point to the cheerleader and Eddie follows your gaze. You watch him closely as he looks at the pretty cheerleader. 

Does he think she’s gorgeous? Does he think she looks better than you? Does he think she looks sexy in her tight uniform? Does he think her boobs look good?

The reaction you expected never comes, he scrunches his face up and a look of distaste crosses his features.

“That bitch threw gum in my hair.” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips, you cup your hand over your mouth when the others turn to look at you.

“That’s not funny, y/n!” Eddie frowns, though his eyes are filled with amusement, “Wayne had to cut a chunk of my hair because I couldn’t get it out.” 

“Your poor hair!” You pout, reaching out to touch his curls. 

Both you and Eddie are unaware of the new set of eyes watching the two of you. 

Steve just left the coach’s office, passing by the gym when he heard your laughter, he couldn’t help but peek inside the open gym. 

His eyes fall on you, right away. 

It’s been a while since you had talked, though you had been more present in his life since the night before your birthday, you were still far from actually being back in his life. The only interactions the two of you have are the ones in the hallway or in classes, greeting one another and saying goodbye. That’s all but he wishes he would see more of you. 

Things haven’t been easy in the past few weeks, he barely passed the exams, sleepless nights haunt him and his days usually consist of reading and trying to better his cooking skills – he has nothing else to do. He has no one to talk to, no one to hang out with, no one to be with, not even his parents. 

He had never been more miserable than he is right now. 

There you are, pressing yourself against Eddie as you play with his hair, looking happier than ever. 

Eddie, who wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you like you are the most precious thing in this world. 

Steve’s eyes are filled with nothing but sadness. He doesn’t even have the power to feel jealous anymore. 

“Hey Steve!” 

Shit. 

All eyes are now on him, including yours and Eddie’s. 

Steve tears his eyes away from you and turns to look at Jonathan who is walking towards him with his camera. By the look in his eyes, Steve can tell that he wants to do anything but talk to him. 

“Uh – it’s good that you’re here,” Jonathan mumbles, holding the camera up, “Principle Higgins asked for a picture of you and y/n.” 

Steve’s brows furrow and confusion takes over his face, “me and y/n?” He asks, “why?”

Jonathan shrugs, refraining from rolling his eyes, “cause you’re the captain of the basketball team and she’s cheer captain.” 

“Oh.” 

Jonathan looks away from Steve, glancing in your direction, waving you over. 

You look just as confused as Steve does but you make your way over to them nonetheless. 

“Hi,” you mumble to Steve before your eyes find Jonathan who stands between you two, awkwardly. 

“Hey,” Steve smiles at you. 

“Principle Higgins wants a picture of you two together,” Jonathan explains to you, “cause you’re both Captains.” 

You raise your brows, “uh okay,” you snort, “what does the cheer captain have to do with–” 

“Don’t ask me, y/n,” Jonathan chuckles as he motions for you both to follow him, “I’m just as confused.” 

“That’s weird,” you mumble, glancing at Steve who’s awfully quiet. 

“Let’s do it in front of the banners,” Jonathan looks over his shoulder, giving you a small smile but avoiding Steve’s eyes – you notice it. 

Does he feel guilty about kissing his girlfriend? You saw them together yesterday, Nancy and Jonathan. They didn’t even bother to hide their affection. They kissed in the parking lot in front of everyone to see. All they got were a few weird looks, no one seemed to pay much attention to them – no one except for you. You stood frozen in place, a mix of confusion and anger rushing through you. 

Despite the things that Steve had done to you, he still didn’t deserve that. 

You didn’t know whether you should tell him or not, by the sullen look in his eyes, you can tell that he already knows. 

“Alright, just uh–” Jonathan waves his hand at you and Steve, looking around awkwardly, “scoot a little closer.” 

You don’t have to look around the gym to see all the eyes on you, you can feel them and you can hear the hushed whispers.

Steve ignores them but he can’t help but take a look at Eddie who is still standing in the same spot as before. He watches you. 

You step closer to Steve, when he lifts his arm up for you. You place your hand on his back and he places his hand on your waist. Steve looks away from Eddie when the latter looks down. 

Jonathan looks through his camera, squinting his eyes as he motions with his hand, “a little closer, y/n.” 

Steve feels your body closer against his, your hand slides down to his waist, your touch fills him with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in a long time, it makes his heart beat a little faster, it fills him with life. 

If a simple touch of your hand can make him feel such things, he wonders what a kiss from you would cause. 

For a moment, he forgets about his surroundings and what he is supposed to be doing. The sound of chatter, whispers and giggles fly by him. His attention is on you and he basks in the feeling of being so close to you, of feeling your touch, of being able to look at you – not from afar but from such a close distance. 

After a few snaps, Jonathan pulls back to look at the pictures he just took, he furrows his brows and glances up at the two of you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, not pulling away from Steve just yet, “do I look okay?” 

Jonathan huffs with a soft chuckle, “yeah, you look good but uh, Steve? You’re supposed to look into the camera,” he says awkwardly. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up to see him staring at you – now with a blush on his cheeks. Oh. He wasn’t looking into the camera because he was too busy looking at you. 

He closes his eyes, furrowing his brows, “right.” 

You can’t help but smile to yourself – a flustered Steve is not something you will ever get used to. 

“Alright,” Jonathan mumbles after snapping a few more pictures, “I got it now.”

He looks up from his camera, giving Steve a tight lipped smile, “thanks Steve, you can go now,” he says before he steps away himself. 

You feel the hesitation in his touch before he lets go of you, stepping away slowly.

“Alright uh, I’m gonna,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he points to the entrance. 

“Yeah,” you whisper but you hesitate as well and you find yourself looking into his eyes again. 

The sadness has taken over. 

You know that he knows about Nancy and Jonathan. 

Why is he still with her? 

Why is he still with her after everything he said to you? 

Why is he still with her when she is seeing someone else? 

He gives you a halfhearted smile before he turns away but you stop him, reaching for his hand before he can take the first step away from you. You grip it tightly, unaware of the feeling in his heart that you had caused with yet another simple touch. 

He looks down at your hand only to notice another, new ring adorning your hand. A skull ring on your ring finger – he doesn’t know why such a small item can cause him so much despair. He doesn’t have to ask to know where or who you had gotten it from. 

“Are you okay?” 

The softness in your voice matches the one in your eyes, it makes him want to cry. 

How could he ever be okay without you in his life? 

Now that he had finally dropped the act and let go of a fake love, he had nothing to hold onto anymore. 

He lost his best friend, he lost the love of his life, he lost the one. All because he was an insecure coward. 

The past few weeks have shown him how much he had truly ruined, how alone he really is without you in his life. 

He needed to lose you to realize that you are all he ever wanted. 

He doesn’t need a bunch of friends who don’t even care about him nor does he need girls chasing after him or the popularity that he no longer has or even wants. 

You, he only wants you. 

But he won’t fight for someone who he doesn’t deserve to have.  

You look at him with worry in your eyes as you wait for him to answer your question. 

No. No, he is not okay. 

He has never felt more lost in his life than he does at this moment. 

The emptiness in his chest is eating at him and he doesn’t know how to keep going when every day feels like hell.

Every night he stares at the bottles of expensive whiskey in his dad’s office, contemplating whether or not he should just drink until he no longer feels anything. Deep down he knows that the whiskey would just make everything so much worse. 

Maybe it would lead him back to you, maybe it would lead him to the phone on his nightstand, maybe he would make the mistake of calling or even seeing you only to beg for another chance – which would only end in heartbreak. 

You won’t take him back.

Steve will forever hate himself for losing you. 

“Yeah,” he says, forcing a smile on his face, “I’m okay.” 

And for a moment, it isn’t a lie. For a moment, he does feel okay when he still feels your hand in his, when he sees the worry and the softness in your beautiful eyes and the necklace around your neck, the locket that he gave you. You are wearing it. And that alone is enough for his heart to flutter and for the emptiness in his chest to disappear – even if only temporary. 

He avoids your eyes and that proves to you that he isn’t okay but just like he never pressured you, you don’t do it either. 

“A-Are you going to college?” You ask, not wanting him to go so soon. 

Your question surprises him, it’s been a long time since you had initiated a conversation. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem really appealing to me.”

“But you wanted to go to college, Steve.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head with a small chuckle.

“That uh, that was our dream. I only wanted to go to college with you.”

His hand is still in yours, his sad eyes are still gazing into yours. 

“You wanted to go to college with me?” Your eyes widen when he nods, “for me?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so,” he trails off as he watches the way sadness crosses your features. 

Your heart jumps at his words. 

“That’s uh, that’s funny,” you laugh, “cause I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so I always told you that I had this huge college dream when I never even knew what I actually wanted.”

Steve’s brows furrow and his eyes fill with confusion but also with amusement. 

“Really?” He chuckles. 

“Yeah.” 

His eyes crinkle and his smile widens. 

“Wow. We would’ve gone to college together not knowing that it’s something neither of us wanted,” he says, “unless it’s something that you want now?”

“Oh no,” you mumble, “I-I’m not going to college. For now, I’m stuck at the record store which is actually being moved to Starcourt soon.” 

His eyes light up. 

“Oh, the record store is being moved?” 

“Yeah!”

“I guess we’ll keep seeing each other then.” 

While the thought leaves him with excitement, it must leave you with annoyance – at least that’s what he thinks. 

The look on your face is puzzled.

“I got a job at the ice cream parlor,” he clears his throat, “Scoops Ahoy.” 

Suddenly, he feels embarrassed and his cheeks heat up. You used to date a king, a popular guy, the captain of the basketball team with his apparent bright athlete future. 

And now he is just Steve Harrington who barely got his diploma, who threw his athlete future down the drain to work at an ice cream parlor. How humiliating. 

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, “no way! Scoops Ahoy?” 

“Yeah..”

“Oh my god!” You giggle excitedly. “I’ll be your regular.”

Steve can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. 

“You did love your ice cream.”

“Yeah, I still do.” 

You are still smiling at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. This almost feels like a dream – standing here with your hand still in his, laughing and smiling with you like the past no longer matters. 

“Y/n!” Chrissy calls for you. 

You tear your eyes away from his and glance over his shoulder. 

Chrissy motions for you to join her and the other cheerleaders – who are all trying to hide the fact that they were just staring at you and Steve. 

“Come on!” She says as she glares at Steve’s back. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Steve’s face falls, though his smile still lingers when you look back at him. You remove your hand from his. 

“So uh, I guess I’ll see you around?” 

He nods, “yeah,” he mumbles. 

You step away from him but this time, he stops you. With a hand on your wrist and your name falling from his lips, he makes you halt in your tracks. 

You look back at him with raised brows. 

His soft eyes make your heart race, his touch makes you feel warm. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

He knows you don’t believe it, you never did, no matter how many times he told you these words, you never believed them. 

“The locket looks good on you,” he smiles. 

You place your other hand on your chest, touching the locket, “thanks, I love it.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, watching the interaction between you and Steve. Annoyed at the affection and the smiles you are giving him, she forces herself to look away. 

Steve always finds a way to sneak his way back into your life. He doesn’t deserve you, not after everything that happened. 

She knows that you might never stop loving him but she hopes that your love for him won’t stop you from letting another one in. She narrows her eyes, glancing at the metalhead who is still standing by the door, watching you with an intense look on his face, one that can only be described as jealousy. 

It’s the same look you always wore when you saw Steve with other girls. 

She sighs, shaking her head.

Chrissy might not be a close friend of Eddie’s but she knows that his feelings for you are nowhere near platonic and she knows that what you are feeling might be deeper than that too, though you are still oblivious, too focused on your feelings for your ex boyfriend. 

She hopes that you will let go of them someday. 

-

The first big summer storm hits the town of Hawkins on a Friday afternoon. The rain is falling down harshly from the sky, the wind is howling through the trees, the bright lighting lights up the darkened sky every few seconds as the thunder crashes loudly. 

The streets are empty as the water flushes down the road. 

Of course you had to come to the library today. 

You should’ve come here tomorrow, you should’ve stayed home. 

You tried to leave the library when the storm just started but the librarian, an elderly woman named Margaret, refused to let you leave. She forced a book into your hand and told you to take a seat by the window. 

She didn’t even let you put up a fight. She offered you a cup of coffee and told you to wait out the storm. 

It’s been an hour but the storm is still raging and you are becoming restless. You hate being stuck in public places.

You take the book that she gave you and leave the table, giving her a tight lipped smile as you pass by the counter. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to sneak out,” you whisper to her when she gives you a pointed look. 

“You better not, young lady,” she says with a mean voice but her eyes are kind. 

You chuckle at her, flashing her a smile before you disappear into the aisle where the shelves are filled with nothing but dramatic romances and sad love stories – your favorites. 

The smell of paper and coffee, the sound of rain and thunder fills you with a nostalgic feeling. You love these types of afternoons, sitting down with a book you love, listening to the rain paddling down the windows after you light up your favorite candle and drinking a hot cup of coffee – too bad you did not stay at home, you could have done just that. 

As you walk down the aisle and you trace the books, trying to find one that calls for you, you don’t find a story that you would love to read, instead, you find the girl that has been the cause of a lot of pain in your life. 

You halt in your tracks when you find her sitting in the little nook by the window. A large book resting on her lap. 

You don’t know why you freeze, why you don’t just walk away, why you keep standing there like a fool as you stare at the girl that stole your boyfriend – ex boyfriend. 

She glances up from her book when she feels your eyes on her.

For a moment, she freezes too and stares back at you. 

What are you doing? Just walk away. The angel on your shoulder whispers, trying to save you from the awkwardness of this situation. 

No. Confront her. Tell her what you saw.

You were never one to let the devil win. You were always a good, obedient girl. Always listening to the things the good ones whispered to you. Always doing what you were supposed to do. Always being kind and sweet to everyone around you. Always doing the right thing. 

Maybe that is where you went wrong, by doing the apparent right things. 

But you never did what you wanted to do. 

So you let the devil for once – or maybe the devil is actually the angel and the angel that has been whispering all these discouraging words to you, is actually the devil in disguise,  waiting for you to fail, changing your mind about the things that you want.

“Can I help you?” Nancy asks slowly.

You notice that her hair is shorter than it used to be, a few of her curls fall from the clip that is holding her hair together. 

“No,” you shake your head. 

She furrows her brows when you make your way over to her. 

“But there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“You wanted to talk to me?” She asks, pointing between the two of you. 

Surprised that you want to talk to her now. 

You nod. 

Nancy can’t help but feel nervous. Despite her dislike for you, she is aware of her wrongs. You have every right to be angry at her – if you are angry at her. 

“I saw you with Jonathan.” 

She tilts her head, eyes straying from you. She looks confused. 

“What?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, the bracelet around your wrist slides down a little. 

“I saw you kissing him.”

“So?” 

“So?” 

Now you feel the anger rushing through you. 

Does she not feel ashamed? 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I should be the last person to care about this but I still care about him,” you start as you stare into her confused eyes, “what are you doing is disgusting.”

Nancy begins to understand a little but a part of her still leaves her with a big question mark. 

“I shouldn’t be defending him but I know that he is a good person, despite everything,” you murmur the last part with an eye roll, “and I know that he is good to you.” 

Nancy straightens her back, she pushes the book off of her lap and holds her hands up, “okay, uh I’m a little confused.”

“Oh, you’re confused?” You mumble, trying to keep your voice down, “you’re confused about the fact that you are cheating – openly?” 

Technically, you are not wrong. She did cheat but not anymore. 

“I’m not cheating,” she mumbles, “we’re not together anymore.”

Silence fills the space between the two of you. The only sound you both hear is the thunder and the rain outside before you speak up after a long pause. 

“What?” You ask and Nancy realizes that you don’t know. 

How do you not know about the break up? 

How do you not know that he left her? 

She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest, mimicking your pose. 

“Steve broke up with me.” 

You are stunned. These news are something you did not expect. 

“A few weeks ago, actually,” she explains, “when he came back from you.”

Oh. 

He broke up with her, the night before your birthday, after seeing you. 

“I’m not cheating on Steve. Jonathan and I, we’re together.” 

So, the rumors were true, after all. 

They broke up – he broke up with her. 

“Oh.”

Nancy looks you up and down. There you stand, wide eyed, confused and definitely unaware of the break up that happened so long ago. 

“You didn’t… know?” 

You shake your head and you lean your body against the shelf behind you. 

“No, I-I didn’t know.”

You had almost forgotten about the raging storm when a bolt of lightning strikes through the sky and the lights in the library flicker for a few seconds. 

You draw in a long sharp breath and look down. 

Why didn’t he tell you? You wonder. 

Nancy asks herself the same thing. Why did Steve not tell you about the break up? Why didn’t he call you the way he called her after he broke up with you? 

The two of you stand in front of each other, shocked.

And as Nancy takes a closer look at you, as she sees the slight frown, the look in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the hand over your heart. She knows. She knows that there is still something. 

You are still processing the news, she can tell by the way your eyes flicker back and forth as though you are trying to piece something together. 

“Wait so.. you heard the rumors and you didn’t… think they were true?” 

Your hair falls in front of your face when you lift your head, you don’t bother to push it away. 

“I– well, I…I saw you two together a lot, so, it was hard to believe the rumors.. you know?” 

Nancy nods in understanding. 

“I get it… Then, the rumors with Eddie are not true?” 

For a moment, you think about her question before you turn your head to look at her with a frown. 

“The one I’m pregnant? The one where he sacrificed a lamb to get my undying love and devotion? The one where I cheated on Steve? Which one of them all?” 

Nancy’s eyes widen. 

She can’t help but snort at all those rumors. Shaking her head with an amused smile, she looks down with furrowed brows, “trust me, even I know Munson looks scary but probably is a fan of Garfield or something,” she chuckles. 

A smile tugs at your lips. 

“He does have Garfield pajamas.”

She looks at you with a stunned expression before you both burst into giggles. 

Nancy shakes her head again as the smile fades away. 

“And no, not the pregnant one either.. Jesus,” she sighs. Her eyes find your body again, she looks you up and down with a look that you cannot read. 

Suddenly, you feel self conscious again. You feel the urge to wrap your arms around your waist, wanting to hide your body. 

But her words aren’t ones that you expected. 

“If you’re pregnant with a body like that, is the baby like smushed to the very back?” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Your eyes widen at her words and you restrain yourself from gasping or holding your hand in front of your mouth or your stomach. 

Nancy had spent so much time feeling jealous of you, of what you had – because at one point, she thought that you had everything. Beauty, popularity, friends and a guy who was hopelessly in love with you. You had it all and when she got a taste of what you had, she wanted it. She wanted him. She painted a false picture of you in her head, to make herself feel better about stealing from you. 

Though, the false picture in her head didn’t stay for long, it started crumbling the moment she walked into the girls bathroom to hear you crying. She knew it was you, the backpack that laid on the ground had a pin of The Cure on the front, one that only you had. 

After that, she began to pay attention to you. 

She saw the way you looked at Steve, weeks, months after he left you. 

She saw the sadness, the heartbreak, the pain in your eyes and the love that never left. 

She saw the way you looked at the other girls and the way you looked at yourself. The way you stayed in the locker room, a little longer than the other girls. 

The way you looked at her and compared yourself to her. 

All because of him. 

“Y-You look amazing is what I’m trying to say,” Nancy says nervously. 

A flush creeps up to your face as you gape at her. 

To hear it from Steve or even Eddie is one thing, to hear it from a girl who bashed on you, who belittled you is a whole other thing. It feels.. good. 

“T-Thank you..”

Nancy clears her throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Desperately wanting to kill the awkward tension, she goes back to your previous question.

“No… The one where you and Eddie are dating.” 

It takes you a moment to realize what she means. Your mouth falls open and recognition dawns your face. 

“No, it’s not true either. None of them are,” you brows knit together, “wait, why did you think it was true?”

There’s amusement in her features as she takes in the sight of your confused face. She shrugs, “you’re always clinging to one another, and you guys literally kiss on the cheek! Like, who does that to a friend? And– you sit on his lap! It’s hard not to think you two have something going on!” 

You press your hands together, laughing awkwardly, “uh, well, that’s how best friends interact,” you say these words with a twinge of pain in your chest but you don’t understand it, the reasoning behind the pain is unclear to you. 

“Trust me, that’s not how best friends interact with each other – or look at each other,” she adds quietly. 

“L-Like what?”

She stares at you in amusement, albeit a little bewildered. 

“You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?” 

“Oblivious to what?” 

She looks away from you with a small smile, glancing out the window, she pretends to be surprised, “oh, it looks like the storm finally stopped!” She points out. 

The storm had indeed stopped, though the one inside of you, has just begun. 

Nancy reaches for the book on the nook. She grabs her bag and turns back to you, “I gotta go home. Jonathan and my mom must be worried.” 

You follow her with your eyes, staring at her desperately. 

She looks over her shoulder after passing by you, “one piece of advice? Pay attention.” 

And with that, Nancy Wheeler leaves you standing in the empty aisle. 

“What?”

next chapter

-

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

[aloysiavirgata]

She walks in beauty, like the night

Scully in the simplest, blackest silk. Scully pale, moon-kissed, vulnerable. Scully’s hair and eyes like where the stars are born.

***

Scully comes to him when even the moon is all but asleep, like a single calla lily from a secret admirer. Unbidden. Unexpected.

Unparalleled.

“Mulder,” she says, outside his open door, in a negligee that last shade of sky blue before it goes pitch black.

Spaghetti straps and a low décolletage, though not shockingly low. Lace trim, mid thigh. It looks like something Katharine Hepburn would wear to slap you.

Not you. Him.

Specifically him.

She looks up at him through her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded eyes.

He stares at her for his own sake because deep in his 12 year old heart, no one would ever, ever, believe that nerdy Fox Muld-

Scully takes another step closer onto the sad oatmeal carpet of his hotel room. She has such pretty ankles, she has such pretty calves. She smells like honeysuckle and hot bike tires and buttery lobster rolls and the sweetest, purest moments of his life.

She tips her face up to him, Agent Scully does, all eyes and lips and cheekbones like a geometric proof.

“God,” he says. And he means it.

***

LA belongs to the sun and Scully is a San Diego baby but he knows, he knows, she is an East Coast girl at heart. He knows she loves the first retinal purple-orange sunrises of America and the first sapphire kisses of night. He knows she loves the stars by which her father learned to navigate. He knows she loves the distant moon.

He knows she loves blue crabs and wool duffel coats and khaki shorts and aspires to East Hampton in her most secret, silent heart.

One day he will make love to her in London because she will, he knows, hark to the call of the City. She is a creature of old stone and lichen and liminal space.

She is the answer to Samson’s riddle.

***

He’d rented a jet black ‘57 Chevy Bel Air because Christ, this girl. Abductions and cancer and the most awful brutality and stolen ova and Christ; this brilliant, moonbeam girl.

She sees the car and she says nothing. But her eyes, her eyes. Her Star of India eyes.

Scully sees the car and she smiles, shy. Scully squeezes his hand.

***

He fucks her - hard, desperate - in the Chevy out over Mullholland and she cries out for him because even Saint Teresa writhed in ecstasy.

He kisses her the way a mariner kisses his homeland soil because she is his human credential. He kisses her like a Torah scroll. He shudders, murmurs I love you, I love you into the hot, sweet dark of her mouth.

***

She is bleeding, just a little. She is bleeding in the warm caress of a Southern California night. She is bleeding as though she were a virgin and maybe she is; maybe there is sex and there is fucking and there is making love and there is This.

Are you there, god? It’s me, Dana.

She touches his sleeping rosebud lips. She touches his funny nose and his beautiful jaw and she doesn’t say I love you aloud like he had because she’d learned it was shameful. She’d learned to salute.

But it’s 3 AM, neither properly morning nor properly night. It’s 3 AM and she isn’t LA pretty, not by a long shot, but she’s here with him, with Mulder, who is very LA pretty and has money besides.

She’s too short and too pale and her nose is patrician rather than cute and she gets burnt instead of tan. She doesn’t laugh in the right places at movies. She likes copper because it burns green, she likes moths more than butterflies, she can quote Jane Austen’s most acerbic lines.

She thinks of Mulder swimming hard across the Vineyard tides, Mulder with his cinnamon skin in the whipped cream breakers. Riding a red fixed-gear along Lake Tashmoo, tugging his tiny sister along. Mulder basking on the beach like a young god of summer. Mulder with his heart afire like Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque.

Her father is dead and look, look Mulder has such a tender soul even if he’s Jewish and atheist, Daddy. Mulder has eyes like fern moss.

“I love you,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, her eyes bright as the newest stars.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

The Plan [Marcus Pike x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Mentalist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x you/cishet f!reader. Reader is fat/overweight but this is never explicitly mentioned. Also, reader is a lawyer. (I know nothing about lawyering.)

Tags/Warnings: Sad Marcus, alcohol mention, one night stands, fellatio mention, neighbours with benefits, safe sex, squirting, cunnilingus, reader has a difficult relationship with her family, mad dash through the airport at Christmas, trauma dumping (Marcus coming clean about his disappointment after Lisbon dumped him).

Summary: A drunken one night stand with your cute new neighbour Marcus Pike eventually leads to more. Takes place after his story arc in the show.

Words: 7,895

A/N: My first Marcus Pike fic, and also I finished a goddamn fic! There is so much cause for celebration here, folks. Remember to comment and reblog: sharing is caring.

Shout-out to @missredherring and @pazizz who read drafts and helped me forward with this story <3

Marcus Pike does not have a bitter disposition. He does not sulk, or harbor resentment. It's just not in his nature.

Until now.

There is just something so unforgivable, incomprehensible, wrong about the way Teresa Lisbon left him. She called him to say she was coming to D.C., that she would marry him, and two hours later she called again to inform him that she wasn't. That she was in love with Patrick Jane. That asshole.

Marcus has been divorced, and not even that made him spiral as hard as the breakup from Teresa. It just hit harder, because he had fallen so hard for her, for the way she dipped her gaze and chin when a smile broke out on her lips, before looking back up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. He fell for her sense of humor, her intelligence, the way it was so easy to be with her. And he really thought that she fell for him in the same way. Maybe she did - but Jane was there, in the background, confusing her, wooing her with one last big, desperate gesture. If Marcus had known that all it took to keep Teresa was to get himself arrested, he would've done that instead of bringing her takeout at work, making her morning coffee just as she liked it, loaning her his jacket when she was cold during that date, all the thousands of little things that he did for her, that he loved doing for her because he loved her so much that doing those things weren't a chore, they weren't planned, they were an honest, spontaneous expression of his feelings for her.

And then, one big, desperate gesture that rendered Marcus's all small, everyday gestures moot. And it pisses him off.

Practicality kicked in as a form of survival. He quickly cancelled the purchase of the house he had Teresa had picked out, found a condo instead, moved in with his things, and threw himself into his work. Most of the boxes were left unpacked. His place didn't feel like a home because he couldn't let it. He was supposed to share one with Teresa, and now there was just him, surrounded by moving boxes that he had to deal with but couldn't, wouldn't. What should've been a house for the two of them - maybe more in the future? - with a little garden, walls impregnated with love and excitement for a life together, sunlight through the window during long weekend mornings of slow breakfasts, putting up Christmas decorations together, all those things that he was looking forward to. Now he has a bachelor pad, in a fancy apartment building with a doorman, but a sad bachelor pad all the same. The furniture is more or less where it should be, but he hasn't bothered to plan that much. The kitchen table is too big, but he's not in any condition to sell it off and buy a new one. The bookcases are half full, and his artwork is still unhung. He really tried there, but the first painting he got his hands on was one that he had seen before him in the spacious yet cozy living-room in That House, with the fireplace, and suddenly no wall in his apartment was good enough. So he put the painting away, and the rest were left packed down.

He even started going out after work, when he couldn't stay any longer but didn't want to go home. He found a watering hole to his liking, and became a regular, nursing one whiskey after another until he could go home and fall into bed for a deep, dreamless sleep.

It's after one of those nights that he finds you, his neighbor, trying to open his front door with your key. Your clumsy yet meticulous movements tell him that you're intoxicated, and there is something endearing about the way you're frowning, the tip of your tongue sticking out the side of your mouth as you focus on sticking in the key that doesn't fit.

When Marcus comes closer, you notice him, and look up. Quickly registering that it's the workaholic neighbor that you rarely see, you just nod, and go back to trying to open the door.

"That's my door," he says, and you look up again.

"What's that?"

"That's my door. You're trying to get into my apartment."

You frown, your hand holding the key falling to your side as you process his words. You then squint at the number of the door, taking a few seconds to realize that this is, indeed, not your front door.

"Oops," you mutter, then grimace apologetically at your neighbor. "Well, this isn't embarrassing at all."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugs, fishing his own key from his pocket. You step to the side to give him access to the door, and when he stands right next to you, you can smell his cologne, sophisticated and with a hint of bergamot.

He eyes you, just as drunk as you are.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Late night. You?"

"Same." He looks so tired when he says it, but you can tell that there is a dimple aching to appear in his cheek. His face, bleary though it is, is handsome, and looks like it was made for smiling.

"What is it you do again?" you ask. You've exchanged pleasantries with him when he first moved in, but you never had the time or mental capacity to actually remember who he is.

"FBI, I investigate art theft."

"Ah, right." Yeah, that's it, something so unusual and random that one couldn't make it up. Then again, D.C. is full of people who do stuff you only hear about in movies.

"Marcus," he offers his hand, and you take it, and give him your name.

"And what is it that you do?"

"Law. I work with government contracts and related investigations at a law firm here in D.C."

"Sounds complicated."

You shrug. "I'm smart enough."

"You look good, too."

You scoff. "Are you coming on to me?"

"I'm trying." Now the smile breaks through, lighting up his whole face. Gods, but he's cute.

"Okay." You make the decision quickly, nodding at his door. "Looks like I picked the right door, after all."

Marcus unlocks the door and opens it for you.

His head is pounding, and his mouth is dry when he wakes up. For a moment, he doesn't know what day it is, what he's supposed to do, or what happened last night, but then the flashbacks start to put things together. The flirty neighbor. Her naked skin. Her alcohol-fuming kisses.

He turns his head and sees you, still asleep next to him. Oh, okay.

Sitting up slowly, he gets his bearings before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Clothes are strewn over the floor. Right next to the bed is a used condom, tied up and looking sad and abandoned. Okay, good, at least he remembered to use protection. He picks it up and takes it to the bathroom, where he disposes of it before washing his hands and face.

He hears the rustle of bedsheets, and returns to the bedroom, realizing that he's naked. You might not want to be greeted by a naked stranger first thing. Looking around for his underwear, he's nevertheless too slow in finding them: you're already sitting up and rubbing your forehead.

He clears his throat. "Good morning."

Your smile is a little lopsided. "Morning."

"You want breakfast?" Marcus immediately offers, wanting to do the gentlemanly thing before he sends you off so that he can take about ten aspirins, and go to work. "And I'll put out a clean towel for you so that you can use the shower."

"Appreciate it, but I live right next door," you point out as you get out of bed. You're as naked as he is, and Marcus tries very hard not to ogle your body for what he suspects will be the last time.

"I don't mind."

"Thanks, but I have to get to work." You pick up and put on your panties, bra, skirt, shirt. Marcus spots his boxer briefs, and pulls them on.

"Okay, well... I had a good time."

"I did too."

Now you're standing right in front of him, buttoning up your silk shirt. Even with your makeup smudged out, and terrible morning breath, you look really nice.

"I gotta ask you something, though, because my memory is a little... hazy." Your cheekbones seem to glow, and he realizes that you're blushing.

"Yeah?"

"I sucked your dick, didn't I?"

Marcus feels the heat rise to his ears. "Um... well... yes, you did."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Did I do it well?"

"I think so."

You grin at him. "You don't remember much either, do you?"

"It was all consensual, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." You surprise him by placing your hand on his naked chest. His heart skips a beat, and he hopes that you won't notice.

"I really have to go, but maybe I'll see you again soon?" you ask softly, and Marcus finds himself relaxing.

"I'd like that."

You even kiss him good-bye, a quick, closed-mouth peck to keep morning breaths from mixing, before you grab your shoes, your purse (muttering under your breath about several emails, and two missed calls), and head over next door.

Marcus, still only wearing his underwear, looks thoughtfully at the closed door for a long while before going into the kitchen with the too big table to make coffee.

Work occupies most of your waking hours, six days a week, often seven. You don't see Marcus again for weeks, don't hear any sounds from his apartment during the hours you're home and awake. Barely having time to think about him, your thoughts nevertheless stray to him when you're standing in the shower or going to bed at night. You haven't been able to fit a boyfriend into your life in a long time, and casual hook-ups have rarely left you satisfied, but even with your hazy memories of the night with Marcus, you left his apartment that morning with a feeling that it was good. So that's where your thoughts go when you touch yourself, the few times you have the energy to do so.

One Friday night, after a long but satisfying week that ended with a contract being accepted as it was, which meant you could have a weekend with only a couple of hours of work from home, you're hurrying home with Chinese takeout in a bag. Looking forward to a quiet night in front of the TV, with an early morning at the gym the following day, you run into Marcus on your way into your apartment building.

"Hi," you smile, immediately noticing how he seems to square his shoulders when he sees you. "Going out?"

"Yeah," he nods, moving his weight from one foot to the other as he takes in your food bag. "And you're staying in?"

"Finally, a Friday night without work," you acknowledge. Marcus's smile lets you know that he knows about that all too well.

"Enjoy."

"You too, you going somewhere nice?"

"No, I mean... I'm just going by myself."

There is something so despondent about the way he averts his eyes when confessing to going out alone. You're not in a position to start saving people, but you see an opening here.

"Join me for dinner instead, Marcus."

"I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother," you shake your head, now moving towards the elevator while beckoning him to follow you. "Come on, before the food gets cold. There's enough here for two, I always buy extra."

He hesitates for only a split second, you can see it in how his body seems to pull him away, out to some sad bar with too much to drink. Instead, he nods, smiles softly, and follows you. He insists on bringing a bottle of wine from his place, and you accept.

You find out more about him that night, as you share your takeout with him, and he shares his wine. He tells you of heartache, only summarily, clearly not wanting you to feel sorry for him, but you can tell that he's been torn up about the "amicable" break-up. He also mentions that he's been married, and you wonder what's wrong with him. He seems perfectly nice and normal, why hasn't he been able to keep a woman? To his credit, he never complains about nice guys finishing last, only states that maybe he's meant to focus on his career.

"There's a lot to be said about having a good career," you agree. Marcus sips his wine with a small smile.

"Work doesn't break your heart."

"That, too."

"I take it you don't have a partner who'll suddenly come home to find me in his kitchen?" he jokes lightly, but you recognize the question for what it is: he wants to know if you're Seeing Anyone.

"Not one for relationships," you shrug.

"You don't long for anyone to snuggle up with in front of the TV on a Friday night?"

"I don't have time. And they never seem to understand that. Or they're working, too." You pick at the scraps in your takeout box with the chopsticks. "And I seem to attract douchebags. Dunno if it comes with the field in which I work. I always seem to go out with terrible lawyer guys."

Marcus chuckles. "Their loss."

"I miss having sex, though." You look him in the eye, and his tongue slides over his lower lip, catching some runaway sauce.

"Yeah?"

You nod, and feel your cheeks heat up. You're a no-nonsense person, but not always this forward with men. But it's easy with Marcus. He takes it all in stride, doesn't seem to think you're aggressive, or slutty, he just smiles and tells you that he misses sex too.

"But what we had was okay, though?" he adds. "Even if neither one of us seems to remember it that well."

"It was," you agree, raising the glass to your lips and draining the rest of the wine. After putting it back down, you tilt your head and bite your lower lip.

"You wanna do it again? Now that we're sober and all?"

"I'm a little tipsy," he warns you with a chuckle, "But I'm in."

Both of you get up at the same time, chairs scraping the floor simultaneously in the kitchen that mirrors his own but has a table that fits it. All of your apartment just fits in a way his half-assed dwelling doesn't. He realizes that it's because your apartment is a home, decorated and lived-in, warm colors and fabrics, Scandinavian wallpapers in bold but tasteful patterns that he himself would never consider but that feel right here.

You step up to him, snugly fitting yourself to his frame, and place your hands on his narrow hips as you kiss him. The two glasses of wine that you've had have laid a warm, cozy blanket over your busy mind, and now you're fully focused on Marcus, whose soft, plump lips are meeting yours as his arms go around your waist.

You make your way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes as you kiss and get undressed, get undressed and kiss. The bed in unmade, you just threw the covers to the side when you got up this morning. Wearing only your underwear, you lay down, pull Marcus over you, rake your fingers through his hair, moan when he palms your plump tits through the bra.

"Tell me what you like," he asks you hoarsely. You hum when he scatters kisses along the lace trim of your bra.

"That's a good start."

He hums back as he pops your tits out of your bra and lick around the nipples.

"Go on," he asks, and a shiver runs down your spine at the low barytone of his voice. You reach around to unhook your bra, and Marcus takes it off you and flings it to the side before burying his face between your breasts.

"You eat pussy?" you ask him breathlessly, and he looks up at you.

"Of course."

"Not everybody does," you wink, and he shakes his head.

"Their loss."

He's in a hurry, you note, but it's endearing in an unexpected way. When he pulls down your panties and gets settled, your legs over his shoulders, you remember to give him a warning.

"I, uh, I don't orgasm from oral, just so you know."

"Really?" His breath is hot against your folds, but he's looking up at you with attentive eyes.

"Yeah. It's not a comment on your skills, I just need you to know it," you shrug, accustomed to always having to tread carefully around the matter. Too many men get offended or take it as a challenge.

"Thanks for telling me," Marcus smiles in a way that's way too innocent and adorable for a man who's got his face inches away from your pussy. "But do you really want me to...?"

"Oh God, yes!" you reassure him. "I enjoy it a lot, and it gets me wet. I just can't cum, I need vaginal stimulation for that."

"You got it," he pats your thigh lightly before his tongue connects with your folds, and your eyes fall shut as you hand yourself over to the pleasure, to Marcus's deftly dancing tongue. He's good, he's attentive and eager, yet you don't get the feeling that he's trying to prove you wrong, to make you orgasm. Lord knows men have tries that in the past, and it's just stressful. No, he just seems to enjoy your moans, the way you writhe and grab his hands, the twitches of your pelvis when he does something extraordinary.

"Goddddd, Marcus, that's so fucking good..." you wail when he alternates between sucking your clit and licking it with a quick tongue. He's getting louder, sloppier, and you know you're dripping. Your clit is throbbing, and you know this is the perfect time to speed things up. You push him away, your thighs closing around his head, and Marcus retreats, chin glistening as he licks his lips.

"You okay?" he wants to know. You nod, breathless and with a pounding heart.

"Need to fuck you."

He scrambles up for a deep kiss, wet and lewd, before you push him over to get a condom from your nightstand. He drapes himself over you as you stretch across the bed, and peppers your back with kisses, like he's unable to stay away from you. You roll around, finding yourself caged between his strong arms, and you pull him down for more kissing with lips swollen and dry but still wanting more.

"How do you want me?" he gasps between the kisses as you pull down his underwear and paw at his small butt.

"Can I be on top?"

He rolls over onto his back immediately, watching you with open-mouth excitement when you remove his shorts and put on the rubber. When you finally sink down on his length, his fingers dig into your thighs as his breath hitches.

"Oh, that feels good..."

"Uh-huh," you sigh, staying still for a moment to adjust to his cock inside of you. You smile inwardly as you find yourself thinking about just how perfectly sized it is: thick but not too long.

"What?"

Your eyes open to find Marcus grinning at you.

"What what?" you grin back. He caresses your hips slowly.

"You looked like you had something to say."

"I was just thinking about what a perfect, gorgeous dick you have."

His cheeks turn pink. "Thank you. It came with the body."

You chuckle and start a slow grind, hips moving lazily back and forth as you seek out the right spots, the right rhythm. Finding it, you plant your hands on Marcus's chest and let out a low moan as you go slightly faster.

"That right for you?" he huffs, sitting up to catch a nipple in his mouth.

"Mmmfuckyes..."

You drop your hand to where your bodies meet, fingers seeking out your clit. Pleasure zaps through your body when you rub it, and you clench tightly around Marcus, causing him to dig his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, both of you groaning.

"So good," he gripes, soothing the sting of his fingertips by rubbing his palms over the affected areas before he moves his fingers to your front. "Need a hand?"

"'m good," you gasp, your free arm slinging around his neck. You clench around him again, and Marcus's hips jut upwards, slamming into you with a force that makes you choke.

"Fuck! God, Marcus, that was..."

"Can we try something?" he pants, pulling you in for a kiss. "Please?"

"Okay?" you frown, a little frustrated at being interrupted, but Marcus gestures for you to rise, so you do as he asks, and let him pull you down with him.

"Get on top of me again, but lie down," he instructs you. You must look doubtful because he immediately adds:

"Just try it, if you don't like it, we can go back to what you were doing."

"I'll try anything once," you shrug, and get on top of him again, this time with your back turned to him. Marcus pulls you down, positioning you on top of him, legs spread, his own legs on the outside of yours. You hesitate for a second, the reality of your weight sometimes haunting your mind, but Marcus insists.

"Just come here, baby," he tells you softly, so you let him take your weight. One of his arms sneaks up the side of your ribcage to cup a breast. With the other, he guides himself into you, pushing himself in with an upward thrust of his hips. You choke on your breath and let your head hang back on his shoulder, one arm seeking a position to support you, the other coming around Marcus's neck when he presses a toothy kiss to your neck. He thrusts into you again, fingers playing with your nipple, and then his other hand comes to rub your clit.

You keen at the sudden intensity, back arching on top of him, and he plants his feet more firmly on the mattress.

"Fuck," you gasp, "that's good, Marcus, this is good..."

He sucks a kiss to your neck, his teeth stinging just a little, and your legs kick in search of a hold so that you can stay just above him. He slips out, and you whimper.

"Relax," he soothes you, thumb abandoning your clit to instead guide himself back into you. "Put your weight on me, I can take it."

You follow his instructions, back sinking down onto his chest and stomach, pelvis angling slightly to help him stay inside you. His fingers return to tease your clit, and your head falls back onto his shoulder as he settles into a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

"That's it," he praises you, his breath hot against your ear. "Just like that, take it, just enjoy it, let me take care of you."

The slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is maddening in how it pushes at your spot but leaves you wanting more. You buck your hips down eagerly.

"Faster, please, Marcus."

He obeys immediately, moaning at how you immediately clench around him. Your fingers thread through his hair, the other hand fists into the sheets. The pressure on that one spot inside you is growing in intensity, insanely, perfectly, knocking your breath out with each jab of Marcus's cock against it. Your moans become whimpers, a moan too complex a sound for you at this point, when you are so close, so utterly close to the climax that you now need as much as you need air -

The release floods your body and your cunt, and for a split second you're horrified at the wet feeling on your thighs, the rippling sound, until you realize that you squirted. A half moan, half giggle escapes you as you press your thighs together as if to lock in the orgasm that pulsates through your cunt and lower belly. Marcus gasps an excited Fuck, yes before bucking up a couple of errant times, and then relaxing down. He kisses your temple, drags his soaked fingers up over your soft belly, making you squirm.

"Sorry," he murmurs throatily. You murmur something back and slide down next to him. Everything between your legs seems wet and now cold, but you're still prickling all over with excitement.

Marcus heaves a deep sigh before turning his face to you. "That was so hot."

"I didn't know I could do that with a man."

"You haven't before?"

You shake your head. Marcus smiles softly.

"I'm honored. Was it good?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"So fucking good."

You smile back at him before turning your face back towards the ceiling, and taking a deep breath that you sigh out audibly. Your body relaxes quickly, a muscle in your lower back mutters about the position you just were in, but you feel extremely good, and wrung out in a fantastic way. In the corner of your eye, you catch Marcus taking the condom off, before getting up to take it to the trash. When he returns, he looks around, looking for his clothes. You roll over onto your side.

"You don't have to leave, you know," you tell him quietly. Marcus stops, boxers in hand.

"Yeah?"

"I mean... don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for a relationship," you hurry to assure him. "But I wouldn't mind you staying over. Unless you have plans?"

"I don't."

He drops the boxers, and slides back into bed, next to you. You smile a little wryly.

"The sheets are wet. I'll change them, feel free to grab a shower.

"Soon," Marcus tells you, low voice heavy with a calm confidence. "I suggest we wet them a little more first."

Your deal with Marcus is simple and beautiful: sex, with or without staying the night. The occasional take-out dinner. Quickies when you run into each other in the corridor outside your front doors, with ten minutes to spare. It's undemanding, friendly, mutually satisfying. Uncomplicated, with no romantic feelings involved, so nobody can get hurt.

Marcus is an active lover who smoothly takes charge. Not bossy, but firm and empathic, and not afraid of using aids of different kinds to raise your orgasms to the next level. He's not opposed to fucking you fully clothed in the morning and leaving you wanting as you go to work with his cold cum in your panties, shot there after he removed the rubber after fucking you.

It is, in short, the perfect set-up.

Fall passes by, and you see yourself forced to fly out to see your family over Thanksgiving. You spend as much time as you can working in your childhood room, however. Your parents do not understand your choice of profession, your mother does not see how a woman of your age has chosen to be childless. Your older brother knocked his girlfriend up at sixteen, your younger sister was married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-eight. You love them, but you don't have a lot in common with them, and even if your siblings at least pretend to understand your life choices, their contempt steeped in jealousy of your life shines through at times. Your parents choose to simply ignore the life you have built for yourself in D.C., talking instead about Mrs. McCall next door, Annie down the street, Cybil in town, Kearney at the gas station, as if you knew any of them or cared about what they said about Kayleigh's twins.

You endure for two nights, and text Marcus from the airport, before boarding: I'll be home after nine tonight. You free?

He replies almost immediately: I'll pick you up at the airport.

You text him the flight number before turning off your phone, settling for a three-hour nap in lieu of working.

When you finally land, puffy-faced but breathing freely now that you're back in the city you call home, Marcus is waiting for you in arrivals. The way his smile lights up his eyes when he sees you makes your heart miss a beat. There is something there that's beyond what the two of you have, something much more sincere.

You shake it off and smile back as you walk up to him. He leans forward, like he's about to kiss you, but ends up giving you an awkward half-hug.

"Welcome home."

"Thanks. And thank you for picking me up."

"My pleasure."

The two of you turn and start walking towards the exit. Marcus offers to take your carry-on wheelie bag, but you decline, accustomed as you are to carrying your own luggage yourself.

In the car, he asks you how your Thanksgiving was.

"As holidays at my parents' usually are. One night would've been enough."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. It's just..." You rub your forehead. "Whenever I visit, I feel trapped. Everything back home is... small. People are kind, yes, but they're small-minded. The town is small. The spaces in which to move, physically and mentally, are small. And I feel like some kind of big city snob who comes to visit twice a year, scoffs at their very ordinary and, as far as I know, happy lives, and then flies back to my vegan frappuccinos and twenty-four-hour sushi restaurants."

Marcus chuckles low. "I think I know what you mean. But it's hard for me to imagine that you'd be a snob about anything."

"I probably am. But I... I don't know, I outgrew that town when I was fifteen. Couldn't get out fast enough. And I don't like going back."

"Does your family support your choices?"

You shrug. "Yes and no. Mom and dad are proud, I guess, but at the same time they don't have any idea what it is that I do. 'If you wanted to be a lawyer, couldn't you be one here? Where it's not as stressful and you could start a family, and work normal hours?' As if I could practice the law I'm interested in over there."

"What's the most common type of lawyer in your hometown?"

"General practitioners who do a little bit of everything, wills mostly. And there are three, I think."

"Wow."

"Exactly."

The conversation turns to other subjects as Marcus drives the two of you to your apartment building. As he parks in his spot in the underground garage, you place your hand onto his thigh. He turns off the engine and looks at you.

"Thanks for picking me up," you tell him quietly. His hand comes to rest on top of yours.

"No problem."

"You have any plans for tonight?"

He shakes his head, then leans forward over the middle console as you reach across the same for a kiss. His fingers thread into your hair before closing around the back of your head to bring you in, and you sigh softly against his lips as you feel the rest of the pressure from your Thanksgiving visit melt away. If the town you grew up in felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable, D.C. and Marcus feel like home. And there's nothing you want to do more now than be with Marcus in this city.

You break the kiss and lower your gaze to his fly, where your fingers are already working on unzipping him. Marcus exhales in an audible sigh.

"You missed me that much?"

"Don't get any ideas," you warn him before bowing down over his lap.

Later, when you are freshly showered, and lying awake in Marcus's bed with him deeply asleep next to you, you wonder when his presence at night became such a comfort for you.

Marcus visits his parents over Christmas. You manage to convince yours that you're way too busy and the holidays too short for you to fly out. Settling in for a couple of days off work, you plan to go to the gym, meet friends, and maybe finally get through that book you started three months ago. You plan for simple yet delicious meals and come home with bags full of groceries and bottles of wine that you balance in your arms as you're digging for the keys in your pocket.

"Lemme get that."

Marcus appears by your side, taking a grocery bag from you.

"Thanks."

You manage to let yourself in, and Marcus follows you to the kitchen, where he leaves the bag on the table.

"Hi," he smiles. There is something so endearing about this man, his smile lights up the whole room, you can't possibly keep from smiling back at him.

"Hi. I thought you already left for the airport?"

"Just on my way now. Glad I caught you."

"Oh?" You unbutton your coat, unwrap the scarf from around your neck. "What's up?"

"Just... I wanted to see you before I left. Wish you happy holidays."

"Right." You take off your coat and leave it over the back of a kitchen chair. "Well... happy holidays, Marcus. I hope you have a nice weekend with your parents."

"Thanks." He clears his throat, looks down and scratches the back of his head. "Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you maybe... want to do something?"

"Sure," you nod, a warmth spreading in your belly. "Like, dinner?"

"I was thinking Hirschhorn? You said you were curious about their special exhibit. Then dinner, and maybe a movie, if you're not opposed to spending so much time with me at once?"

You feel your cheeks heat up a little. "I don't mind at all. That sounds lovely."

His smile widens, his warm eyes glitter. "Great. I'll get back to you as soon as I return."

He kisses your cheek before leaving, his hand resting momentarily on your arm. When he closes the door behind him, the apartment feels empty.

That emptiness stays with you over the holidays. You're enjoying the time off, yes, and downright cherish not having to spend time with your family. You were looking forward to Christmas eve drinks with a couple of friends but are disappointed when they only talk about holiday preparations, gift shopping, and visiting in-laws. The detachment makes you annoyed. It's not that you want that kind of life, you don't want kids and a house and Thanksgiving dinners and all of that. But there doesn't seem to be any alternatives. You get the feeling that they feel sorry for you, that they think you should look up from your laptop once in a while, go dating, settle down, maybe work less.

Always work less. You love your job so much, maybe you won’t forever, but right now you do, and it doesn’t feel taxing when it gives you the gratification it does.

You grab a cab home, earlier than you thought and morose for not getting the carefree night you had planned for. Maybe it's your own fault for thinking that people with families wouldn't have changed.

You weigh your phone in your hand for a couple of blocks before texting Marcus.

Hope you're having a better time than I am. Just getting home after drinks, and realized I have nothing in common with my friends anymore :/

You regret the text as soon as you've sent it. It sounds whiny, and you know that you're being unfair to your friends. But Marcus replies almost immediately:

Sorry to hear that. Wish I was there to make you feel better.

You smile, and your heart skips a beat. He always knows what to say.

It is what it is. Early night for me.

He replies with a Santa emoji that makes you chuckle.

Too old for Santa, you type back. Or too naughty. Either way, he's not coming.

Only man who should come in your apartment is me ;)

You stare at the message, cheeks heating as you lick your lips. Your brain scrambles for an answer to match his tone.

I'll be the judge of that, mister. If you're away for too long, I might get lonely.

The reply comes almost immediately.

I'll be back before you know it.

Your heart is fluttering like a butterfly inside your ribcage, and you react with a thumb up to the last message. For the rest of the cab ride, you're chewing on your lower lip while looking out the window, decorated windows racing past you as the cab driver navigates towards your apartment building.

You fall asleep in front of the TV and are awakened by a text.

You up?

You rub your eyes, realize that you're still wearing makeup, and curse low.

It's two am.

Marcus's name immediately lights up on the phone, and you answer the call.

"What's up?"

"Sorry to wake you."

"That's fine, I was on the couch. Gotta schlep my ass to bed," you yawn as you turn off the TV, and stand up, scratching your head.

"I'm outside."

"What?"

"I'm outside your door."

You frown, trying to understand what he's saying. "What are you doing there?"

"Just open?"

Call still active and phone held to your ear, you walk over to the front door, and unlock it. And there Marcus is, holding his phone but lowering his hand and ending the call while smiling wryly at you.

"Hi."

"What... why aren't you at your parents'?" you stutter, still holding the phone like you're talking to him through it.

"Because I can't do this at my parents'." He steps up to you, cups your cheek, and brings his lips to yours. His face is cold, so you understand that he has just arrived from the airport. Your sleep-riddled brain still doesn't understand, and Marcus breaks the kiss, breathing softly against your lips before drawing back.

"Did I... fuck this up now?"

You lick your lips and realize that you're feeling calm and steady in a way you no longer do when he's not around. You grab him by the jacket lapel and pull him in through the door.

"No," you reply, a shiver running through you when he puts his arms around you. "No, you did just the right thing."

You don't use your tub as often as you would like to, yet it was one of the main reasons why you bought your apartment. It's spacious, has gorgeous vintage style brass faucets, and is placed by the window, from which you can see the park, now wearing a white winter coat of snow, on the other side of the street. The shower booth is at the back wall of the bathroom and your busy lifestyle has you favoring quick showers instead of long, luxurious baths.

Now, however, you're stretched out languidly in Marcus's arms, the back of your head on his shoulder, his hairy thighs pressing up against you on either side. The water is hot and scented with oils, and if the orgasms you had before getting out of bed hadn't relaxed you, this would definitely take away the last vestiges of stress knotting your muscles.

"This is a really nice tub," Marcus mumbles into your ear, his hand running up the inside of your arm, resting on the edge of the tub. "Wish I had one."

"You're welcome to use mine," you smile, just as his hand disappears into the water, finding your breast and cupping it, thumb lazily stroking the nipple.

"I like your apartment better anyway," he admits. "Mine doesn't feel like a home."

"That's just because you haven't unpacked."

He raises his shoulders in a shrug. "Been busy."

"Doesn't help much that you're fucking me every time you're off work."

“One could even say it’s your fault I haven’t unpacked,” he muses, lips touching your temple. You shake your head, hand finding his and leading it away from your breast.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to pin this on me.” There is no vehemence in your voice, and even if Marcus can’t see your face, he can plainly hear the smile threatening to break out.

“I had to try.”

You bring your hand back to your chest, and sigh when his fingers brush over your nipple. It would be so easy to just let things slide, enjoy his hands, his mouth, his cock that’s resting softly against your lower back… But your interest is piqued.

“Why haven’t you unpacked, Marcus?” you ask quietly. “I’ve seen that you have painting just waiting to be hung on the walls and given how much you like to criticize my dentist’s office artwork from Ikea, I can’t imagine why you haven’t done more to decorate your apartment.”

His hand stills, and you feel him swallow. He clears his throat, sighs, clearly stalling, but you don’t show mercy. You want to know.

“I guess… I thought I’d be making a home with someone. And when that didn’t happen, I didn’t like the idea anymore.”

You braid your fingers with his, the water gently rippling with your movement.

“Your ex?”

“Yeah. Teresa.”

“What happened?” He’s mentioned some tragic breakup but never specified, and you’ve never asked. Now, however, you’re asking. You want this puzzle piece to fit right, want to know everything there is to know about Marcus Pike.

“I don’t want to burden you with that…”

“I want to know, Marcus.”

He hesitates, but eventually tells you how his ex, a smart, beautiful woman that he fell head over heels for and eventually proposed to, accepted his proposal over the phone but called again thirty minutes later to tell him that she was leaving him for a coworker. Marcus had been transferred to D.C., had asked Teresa to come with, had a plan for a life together, and she turned out to be in love with a coworker: a charming, unreliable man who worked out an elaborate scheme to make her choose him instead of Marcus.

You’re shocked to silence when he stops talking, an array of emotions simmering inside you. When Marcus speaks your name, the first one to burst is anger.

“What a cunt!”

Marcus sputters your name, but you don’t feel bad.

“You know I’m right!”

“No need for language like that,” he protests, but you can sense a change in him. It’s like something’s loosened in him. Even if you can’t see his face in this position, you can feel it in how his body feels against yours.

“I’m sorry, but that behavior is despicable. And from what you’ve told me about that asshole that she went with because of you, I’d say they deserve each other.”

He shrugs. “Or maybe I was too pushy. We didn’t date for long before I asked her to marry me. I should’ve given her more time.”

You turn around in his arms so that you can meet his flickering gaze. Raising your hand to his cheek, you caress the slightly scratchy surface that sorely needs a razor.

“If it feels right, it feels right,” you tell him softly. “There’s no shame in being open and honest about your feelings, Marcus.”

He blinks, and for a second you think his eyes look shiny. His lower jaw moves as he swallows.

“Thank you,” he eventually mumbles. “I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses but… I did feel I was being straight with her. And she… really fucking hurt me.”

“Yeah, she did.”

His stare is suddenly relentless.

“Will you? Hurt me, I mean?”

You feel nothing but calm. “Marcus, I like you a lot. This is more than just sex now. But I won’t marry you in six months, and I don’t need you to have a plan for us. I like my job, I have a good career that I won’t give up. I don’t want kids, but I like being with you, and I want to keep being with you, not just have sex but do other stuff with you.”

He smiles at that and casts his eyes down. You lean forward to press a small kiss to his lips.

“And I will help you to unpack your shit, and I will come with you to get a new kitchen table tomorrow when the stores open. Because that huge monster you have jamming up your kitchen has got to go.”

“Not tomorrow,” he immediately tells you, and you quirk an eyebrow. “Because tomorrow I’m taking you to the museum, out for a meal, and then we’re watching Casablanca.”

You chuckle. “It’s a deal.”

He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, water splashing when his arms go around you.

“For the record,” he murmurs against your lips, “I like you too.”

“That’s a relief,” you smile, before a gasp escapes your lips; Marcus’s hand has slid down your soft stomach to the apex of your thighs, and one finger is slowly circling your clit.

“Open your legs,” he whispers, breath almost scorching your cheek that is already warm from the water and your rising desire. You move around, legs and hips repositioning themselves so that he can cup his big hand over your sex.

“Marcus,” you breathe in a low moan, “I already came twice this morning…”

“And you’ll come a third time,” he promises as he slides a finger inside your warm heat, rolling a nipple between two fingers of his other hand. You curl your arm back and around his neck, seek his lips for more kisses, push down against his hardening cock to make him gasp into your mouth. Thumb on your clit, he adds a second finger to your pussy, fucking you slowly as you exchange moans along with your kisses. Your hips jut upwards when he hits the right spot, and then he stays on it, water splashing over the edges of the tub when he goes increases speed. Your hand dives underneath the surface to find his cock, and a strangled moan travels from Marcus’s mouth to yours when your fingers close around the stiff length. When he slows down, so do you, when he fucks you faster, your hand works him faster.

The climax reaches both of you at the same time, your bodies tightening up, Marcus’s hips jerking up as your thighs clamp shut, cries bouncing off the tiles as you press your bodies together. As silence falls, the water stills and your hearts return to their normal rhythms, and Marcus’s lips are on your temple.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“So are you,” you hum, a ripple of lingering pleasure making your legs twitch. He kisses you again, a light smattering of kisses over your temple, brow, cheekbone, before reaching your mouth. That last kiss is deep and slow, loving, and intimate in a way you haven’t had with him before. It’s unnerving, almost scary, but there is something so comforting about Marcus’s broad-shouldered body underneath you, something that makes you embrace the unknown.

“Happy Christmas, baby.”

The underwhelming meeting with your friends, the flirty texting with Marcus, that feels like weeks ago. But it was only last night, and your world has been thoroughly rocked since then.

“Happy Christmas, Marcus.”

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.2

Summer is coming to an end, and the warm glow of the early evening bathes everything in gold, casting long shadows and making everything seem almost dreamlike. The sturdy planks of the bridge creak slightly as we cross, the sound blending with the gentle thuds of hooves against wood and the faint rush of the river below. In the distance, the constant song of the waterfalls form a faint, rumbling backdrop.

The sound of Serafina’s hooves changes as we leave the bridge and turn onto the cobbled stone road that leads to the estate. On evenings like this, I love Tartosa so much it makes my heart ache, and I wonder why I ever leave. The air smells sweeter here than anywhere else, a hint of saltwater mingling with the ever-present lavender and the more subtle, grassy notes of the earth itself.

I slow Serafina down as we reach the large mosaic that marks the crossroads. The colour has faded slightly with time, but the motif is as clear as ever, two intertwined wedding bands surrounded by the waves of the Tartosan sea. My great-grandparents commissioned it for an anniversary years before I was even born, a tribute to their love story carved into the very ground.

Serafina tosses her head impatiently, the reins tugging on my hands and pulling me out of my reverie. I feel her muscles tense up under the saddle, and she paws at the ground with her foreleg, restless.

“Sorry, girl,” I murmur. “We’ll go back to your baby now.”

I dismount as soon as we reach the paddock, stroke her neck and thank her for the ride. The light sheen of sweat on her coat is warm against my palm, but her focus is not on me anymore. Her tail swishes in agitation as a delicate, high-pitched nicker can be heard from the stables and I quickly open the gate and lead her through.

My uncle Gio waits for us in the doorway, brushing bits of hay off his gloves. Behind him, Serafina’s foal whinnies excitedly at the sight of its mother.

“There you are. How did it go?” He takes the reins from my outstretched hand and lets the impatient mare into her stall.

“She did great, she’s definitely getting her strength back. I let her gallop along the coast for a bit, you should have seen her. She was practically flying.”

“That’s my girl,” Gio mumbles softly, almost to himself. “Thanks for taking her out, she needed the exercise. As much as Sofia tries, she can’t ride all of them every day and school starts back up soon. How long are you staying this time?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Another week, maybe more. I need a break from everything, some time to figure out what to do next.”

“And a week or two is enough for that?”

“It’s a start. I’ll be fine, you know me, Gio.”

“Exactly, I know you. Well, tell your aunt I’ll be in soon, I’m almost done here.”

“You don’t want any help?”

He laughs, waving me off.

“You were always more useful in the kitchen, my boy.”

As soon as I open the heavy front doors of the main house, I’m met with the sound of laughter. Aunt Teresa is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as they both turn to me.

“Hi mum, Teresa. What’s so funny?”

My mother lights up at the sight of me, and I hurry over to give her a hug before she can attempt to stand.

“Paolo, did you happen to see Giovanni out there? Is he coming in too?”

“Soon, zia, he’s just making sure the vineyard doesn’t run out of fertiliser.”

My mother laughs, giving my arm a feeble squeeze with her left hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon.”

“Well, we better not take any chances, mum. The entire Romeo fortune could be at stake, and I’m currently unemployed.”

Teresa shakes her head, smiling, then calls towards the stairs. “Sofia? Come down, please.”

Seconds later, my youngest cousin skips down the stairs.

Her older sisters, Laura and Anna, both moved out years ago, but Sofia was a late surprise addition, still just a baby when I first moved to Del Sol Valley. To Gio’s endless joy, Sofia is just as obsessed with the horses as he is.

“Sofia, you can do your piano lesson while I make dinner. Is that alright with you, Rose?”

My mother nods and carefully gets up and walks to her usual chair by the piano. Her steps are agonisingly slow but dignified, and I resist the urge to help her, instead distracting myself by picking a few white horse hairs off my shirt.

Teresa disappears into the kitchen, and I opt for simply taking the shirt off before following her.

A copper pot simmers on low heat on the old stove. Teresa’s kitchen was always my favourite room in this house, filled with delicious smells and tastes. Ever since I could walk, I kept ending up in the kitchens, both here and at the vineyard, and my grandmother and aunts never hesitated to put me to work.

There are herbs everywhere, clay pots of fresh basil and oregano. Recently picked thyme and sage, still with their purple flowers, hangs from the ceiling and fills the air with their fragrance.

Teresa points to a bunch of ripe tomatoes by the sink, drying next to the carrots and zucchini she picked earlier.

“You can start by slicing the tomatoes.”

I wash my hands and begin cutting. There’s a small bowl of large, juicy grapes from the vineyard on the table, and I pop one into my mouth. The taste brings back memories of long summers helping out with the harvest, of sun and dirt and the first time I was allowed to taste the family wine.

“How are things over in Del Sol? Your mother says you’re no longer doing voices?”

“Yeah, the show I was working on has ended. But one of my friends is trying to set me up with her agent. For movie roles, I mean.”

“You’re going back to movies? That sounds wonderful! You were so happy back when you did that.”

I know for a fact that Teresa hasn’t watched a single second of Llama Man’s adventures, animated or otherwise, but she was always supportive.

“Yeah, I’m still considering it, but…”

A wildly off-key chord sounds from the living room, followed by laughter as my mother explains something and Sofia starts over.

I glance at the crutches leaning against the wall and lower my voice slightly, although my mother is unlikely to hear me over Sofia murdering a Tartosan folk song.

“How is she doing? When I’m not here, I mean?”

“You always worry too much, tesoro. Your mother is fine.”

“I know, I just… I haven’t been home much lately.”

“You’ve been busy. It’s understandable, you have your own life over there.”

“But now that… There’s nothing that really keeps me over there right now. And both her leg and her hand seems worse lately. I was wondering if I should take a longer break, stay home with her for a while…”

Teresa sighs.

“Paolo, listen to me. It is not your job to replace your father. Your mother is happy. She has family, she has friends, she has so much joy in her life. You need to try and find some joy in your life too.”

navigation / previous / next

[sukisheadlights]

PROTECTIVE TENDANCIES!

tmrminho x wckd!oc

summary: she took care of him all these years in the maze. But will she be there for him when he needs her outside it?

story: maze runner masterlist

rory’s voice mail 🎧: Sooo I'm not that well versed in the lore (that is a sign for re-watch + re-read I know) either way I haven't made any mistakes as far as I'm aware of but incase I missed anything, let me know <3 love you, say it back!

SPOILERS AHEAD OBVIOUSLY

Sadira spins around in her chair as the dark blue light reflects off her glasses; before coming to an abrupt and screechy halt when she hears him yell through the computer screen. She quickly turns and looks over the multiple cctv screens around her in search of minho, until she finds him. Eventually. She messes around with some buttons around her until the 'griever' as the gladers called it, slows down. She sighs and leans against the chair having succesfully saved him the third time this week.

Sadira could confidentaly say that she was the youngest at w.c.k.d. She was 16. She could tell you alot of things, except for what she does in the abnormally technologically advanced building all day. There isn't exactly a job description for saving the asses of the friends you've made through a screen who don't know you even exist. Infact, that probably hinders the consistent experiements being thrown at these children who are her age, heck— some of them are even younger.

Sadira knows that the only reason she isn't in that maze is because she's the daughter of Dr. Ava Paige. I guess even being an adopted daughter has it's own advantages.

That's why she's so careful when she saves the lives of the gladers, if ava finds out both her and the reckless gladers she watched over are doomed. Boy this would be tough to explain if she met them in person, how would she even act around them? Thankfully she doesn't have to worry about that yet. Right?

When Ava turned her away and banished her from coming to w.c.k.d for 'safety reasons', Sadira was MORE than curious on what her 'mother' was hiding. So naturally, when she called her back urgently she ran through the multiple maze like hallways of the building in search of Ava like a mad woman. Maybe in her own way, w.c.k.d was her maze and cage too. just in a non-life threatening sense. for now.

She walks towards the prison cell looking holding room as she stands next to the woman she calls her mother not looking through the window just yet; she should have, maybe she could have ran instead of walking straight to her demise.

Instead she stared gaping mouth at the other girl who happened to step into her peripheral vision. "You remember teresa, yes?" Ava announced loudly, her words ringing colder than the white lights above their head. Sadira could only nod in response; who the hell was inside that room?

"Unfortunately my love, it would be unwise to get into details here. But teresa recently found her way back to w.c.k.d, back to us. And she has been working with us in your absence. It is with a full heart that I can tell you that you will be learning hands on how to talk to a test subject today. Do not worry child, rest assured, you will be safe." She spoke again as teresa walked away, her tone laced with something unfamiliar which, looking back— could have only been something poisonous. "Go on." she nudged again as Sadira walked into the plain white chamber which, looked even sadder from the inside.

She turned around as the door closed behind her and this, mystery inmate. Her heart dropped to her feet. It was him. He was here. Nonetheless, she approached slowly and sat down infront of him. He looked...Terrible.

"Hello," She said blandly, but internally she was nervous as ever. But if she showed it, Ava wouldn't let her talk to him again. How would she help him out then? She should probably slow down but the difference in his character was unsettling.

He didn't say anything in response and only watched her intently, or dazed. She remembered how his eyes looked in the maze, even if they were facing near death every second of the day. And then she noticed how dead they looked this very moment, when this was the one time in life he was truly protected. She looked towards the one-way mirror hoping she was looking directly at Ava. That's when he scoffed. "They can't save you in here."

She looked back at him, eyebrows raised and all. "What would I need saving from, Minho? You won't hurt me." She said confidentally, but not in the sense that she knew he wouldn't. Well, still in that sense but she only showed Ava what was on the surface. Confidence in the sense that she was hiding her fear.

Minho ofcourse, knows that even if he wanted to kill her this very second he would be unable to, considering the shitload of drugs he was put on. She's pretty, it's a shame she's on the wrong side of all of this, he thought.

"Don't wanna talk? that's alright. We'll get you to one of these days Minho. Time is on our side." the words spilled out of sadira's mouth leaving a bitter after-taste. she didn't like talking to him like this, but if she even let Ava catch on to the idea that sadira had...once grown fond of the boy infront of her? she would have lost her chance. for what exactly? she's not entirely sure herself.

silence engulfed the small white room as she watched the nervous bob of his adam's apple before promptly getting up and leaving.

That night, without much shock. She was kidnapped. "Oh, it's just you lot." she said calmly, looking at the faces of thomas, frypan, newt, and gally. All the idiots she saved multiple times. Well, except for frypan— he was always a sweetheart.

The point is, she wasn't intimidated. Instead she laughed when they tried to threaten her. Then, she asked them to untie her and much to everyone's surprise, they obliged.

Not wanting to leave them high and dry Sadira explained everything to them. How she saved their lives, How she knew them, How she saw teresa, And about how she spoke to Minho. She then warned them that as a 16 year old saving them to those small extents was all she could have done and that it would be unwise to redirect their anger from w.c.k.d to her simply because she knew.

She also agreed to get minho out, but that was a given. The only condition she set down was freedom from Dr. Ava Paige. Who she had the displeasure of calling her mother. They sat on the floor that night and all the gladers and Sadira in unison decided the best plan to get minho out of that hellhole. And they settled.

On Gameday, Sadira offered to walk with Janson and pointed out how something looked suspicious with teresa and her guards. Inevitablly, Janson approached the disguised gladers and it was there that they grabbed her as she sneakily snatched janson's all building access card. She was with them under the ruse of a hostage, just so that Ava doesn't get suspicious and look too closely.

When they found out Minho was moved, it was only because of Sadira and another test subject that they could pinpoint Minho's exact location.

However, she should have probably thought to warn him in some way that she was on their side. Maybe then Minho wouldn't have mistakened her for the enemy and slammed her into the wall once they did find him. ouch.

The escape after that was mostly smooth sailing, there were no losses and only minor setbacks. But those don't matter enough to be mentioned here. [Authors Note: I didn't have it in me to kill off newt so don't blame me] Ofcourse, Sadira almost dying while protecting minho doesn't fall under minor setbacks but she would have done that for any glader.

When she woke up in the 'refugee' a few days later, minho was the first person she spoke to. The conversation flowed much more smoothly when her formerly alive mother (that was fun to find out) wasn't watching over them, she joked. And he laughed. And she thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. So she made him do it again, and again, and again. Until she finally realised she couldn't get enough of it.

They moved fast. From touches, to kisses, to something more. But it was never in the sense that it was too much to handle, Instead it was in the sense that they had waited too long for each other and that they were desperate for this. Needy, even. Which was insane considering he barely knew her. Oh well.

First Kisses and First loves are obviously difficult post-apocalypse but hey, atleast it makes one hell of a story.

[callsign-dexter]

A Father's Comfort

Request: hey lovie 

I just went through a pretty nasty break up (not because of him and I) and I tried to explain everything to my friends and some family what happened by they all thought I had done something wrong. The only person who had my back was my dad, he was the only one who would listen and told me it wasn’t my fault. 

anyways I was wondering if you could write a maverick x daughter reader where she broke up with her boyfriend and tried to get some reassurance from friends and family (maybe just some of Pete’s old friends) but they just thought she was the mess up (maybe they were just extremely passive aggressive) so she just tried to laugh off the jokes. Maybe eventually Pete finds out through the chain that she broke up with the boy so he tried to go confront/comfort her and she tried to make jokes and in the middle of “laughing” she started crying. Then maverick just jumps into loving father mode and comforts her.

maybe the reader is like 16-17

thank you and 100% your choice

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: cheating, angst, fluff, asshole boyfriends, asshole Chipper, asshole Sundown, asshole Merlin

A/N: Hopefully you caught the Grease reference. I'm so sorry you had a rough break up and sorry I got this out late. If you need to talk my messages and asks are always open.

You didn’t know what happened. You thought your relationship with Justin was going great. You loved him and he loved you or so you thought. It was after school when it happened you were getting ready to leave the parking lot. You had just arrived at your Toyota Tacoma when Justin strolled up to you. You smiled when you saw him and greeted him with a kiss but he pulled away and turned his head so that you kissed his cheek this confused you. “Everything ok?” You had asked him.

“I think we should break up.” He said and your heart broke.

“What why?” You asked

“I don’t love you and never did. Besides I’m going out with Teresa.” He said and your face drained.

“How long has that been going on?” You asked now furious but still heart broken.

“A month after we got together.” He said and our eyes began to sting with tears. “We can still be friends.” He said and you didn’t say anything. He started to walk away but still close enough to you when you shouted at him.

“Lose my number and never talk to me again.” You said and he turned around.

“I’ve already lost it.” He said with a proud smirk on his face while yours was a frown.

“All I want to know is why.” You asked

“You’re too clingy. You never wanted to go further. At least Teresa is willing.” He said and then walked off and now you were truly alone. You got into your truck and drove home somehow not crashing. When you pulled into the driveway you recognized most of the cars as being Top Gun’s Class of ’86.

You parked in your original spot and killed the engine and headed inside of the house. It was loud and from the looks of it some of them had been drinking. You knew they were coming over for a cookout that your dad had planned and you were looking forward to it too until now. You knew you looked awful and you just wanted to escape upstairs and into your room. The plan was going smoothly until Hollywood saw you and smiled and went over and hugged you.

“Mini Mav! How are you?” He asked and you could tell that he had been drinking some but you were respectful and greeted him back because that is what your father taught you.

“I’m fine.” You said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your ear and your eyes weren’t as bright but he couldn’t tell that but two people could, Ice and Slider. They weren’t drinking as much because they tended not to and the thought of hangovers now killed them, when they were younger, they were fine with it but not now plus someone had to be a little bit sober while Maverick and Goose were gone to pick some stuff up and to deal with the rowdy ’86 bunch.

“You seem down. What’s up?” He asked pulling you into him uncomfortably and you nervously laughed and looked at Ice and Slider for help.

“My boyfriend and I broke up.” You said and got out of his hold by now most of everyone was paying attention to you.

“What happened?” Chipper asked as he took a drink of his beer.

“He said I was too clingy. He also cheated on me after a month of dating.” You said with your head hanging down.

“Well, were you clingy? Is that why he started cheating on you.?” He asked and you looked up at him with a shocked expression and everyone laughed but Ice and Slider.

“No, I texted him asking him to hang out but that is what boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to do. I also just wanted to know how his day was each day and text him good morning and good night. I also just wanted to spend more time with him and make plans and he never answered and I just send him ideas. He also wanted to go further and I didn’t want to.” You said in an exasperated voice. Chipper scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but they don’t have to hang out with each other 24/7.” He said and you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

“Chipper.” Ice said sternly not liking the look on your face and he looked at him.

“What? If she’s being clingy and doesn't want to go further, I know how teenage boys are, then I see why he was cheating on her.” He said to Ice and then turned back to you “Just a friendly reminder, try not to be so clingy next time and just go further.” He said and a tear slipped out and down your already tear-stained cheeks. Sundown scoffed.

“You’re being too sensitive about it. Just let it go. I don’t mean to be rude but it sounds like it is your fault that he cheated on you.” Sundown said and more tears fell down.

“Cheating on you was a surprisingly good decision on his part. If you were texting him all the time and wanting to hang out all the time, my girlfriend doesn’t even text me that much and I’m perfectly fine with that.” Merlin said and took a drink of his drink.

“That’s enough guys. You’re upsetting her.” Slider said and walked over to you and brought you into a hug.

“No, it’s ok. I’m just going to go up to my room. Oh, where is dad and Goose?” You asked, looking at him sniffling.

“They went to the store to grab some things. They’ll be back in like 10 minutes. I’ll let your dad know that you’re upstairs.” He said and hugged you which you returned and hugged him back and then when you released each other you started up the stairs to your room where you shut your door and fell face first into your pillow and began to cry.

Just like Slider said Maverick and Goose arrived back home and everyone had gone back to normal but Ice and Slider looked annoyed. Maverick and Goose put the bags down and then walked over to them. “What’s wrong?” Maverick asked, noticing that they hadn’t even touched the rest of their drinks.

“Where’s Y/N/N?” Goose asked, also looking at the two.

“She’s upstairs and you need to go and check on her.” Ice said and before Maverick could ask why Slider spoke up.

“She broke up with Justin.” Out of all the ’86 class Ice, Slider, and Goose were closest to the Mitchell girl “Everyone was passive aggressive to her. She took off upstairs. She’s really upset about it.” Slider said and Maverick nodded, pissed that the others would be so hateful to his daughter. They know better even if they have been drinking. Goose was pissed too, that was his goddaughter for crying out loud. He turned to Maverick.

“Go check on her. We’ll deal with the others.” Goose said and Maverick nodded and headed upstairs. He came to his daughter’s door and knocked.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Is it ok if I come in?” Maverick asked and waited for a minute.

“Yea.” You said in a quiet voice and he walked in to see you at your desk doing homework but could see your tear-stained cheeks and his heart broke. He went over and sat on your bed. You spun your desk chair and looked at him.

“Ice and Slider told me what happened.” He said

“They’re right. It’s my fault.” You began

“No- “He started but you cut him off with a laugh.

“I mean I probably texted him too much and that is why he cheated on me.” You said with a chuckle but could feel tears welling up.

“Honey- “Maverick said as his heart was breaking.

“I also didn’t want to go any further when we were making out and he would get annoyed. So why not cheat on me with someone that is willing to do something like that right?” You asked even though it didn’t require an answer. “I’m the stupid one and the one to blame.” You said slowly losing it and Maverick just sat there not saying anything and waiting for you to finish “Sundown is right I’m just being too sensitive and so is Merlin cheating on me was the right thing to do. I’m just a screw up and will always be a screw up.” You were looking anywhere but him. You were laughing until you weren’t and then you began to sob with your head in your heads and Maverick felt tears of his own.

Maverick pulled your chair over to him and pulled you into a hug and you leaned into him and wrapped your arms around him and buried your head into his shoulder. “You’re not a screw up. You’re a wonderful person and anybody would be lucky to have you, I know I am.” He said and tightened his hold on you. “You will always be my girl no matter what.” He said “You’re young and still have time to figure out what love is. Who knows the right one may be living in the house just across the street.” He said, hinting at Bradley but you were too upset to figure it out. 

“Thank you, Dad. I love you too.” You said he brought you so he was looking at you at arm’s length.

“Anything for my best girl.” He said and brought his hands to your face and wiped the still falling tears with his thumbs. They say the only man a girl can depend on is her daddy and you found out that was true that day. You were glad to have him in your life.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@callsign-revenge

[nivalingreenhow]

Here is my unnecessarily long deep dive into the Claymore timeline, which is just a way to try and figure out how old they all are.

first, is the tl;dr bullet points (more explanation under the cut)

Male era lasts for maybe a few years, but maybe less, as Riful is a warrior before Isley, Dauf, or Rigaldo awaken.

There is an undetermined amount of time before Teresa’s era, but it is likely a long time, given how many Number ones happened during that time (four of them during this time were stronger than the Abyssal ones, implying the existence of many others who were not as powerful)

Cassandra and Roxanne happened before Luciela, but we can’t know how long before

Luciela and Hysteria were likely back to back since Teresa was a trainee when Luciela awakened and a new warrior when Hysteria goes out.

Rosemary is only Number 1 for a short time, quicky overtaken by Teresa.

Teresa is Number 1 for a long time, maybe even a decade. She is well known among other warriors, even after her time. She is very familiar with Irene, suggesting they were trainees together. Both seem ‘older’ than other warriors in terms of maturity and introspection

The time between Teresa’s death and the start of the manga is about 5-6 years, based on Clare’s physical appearance.

This means Irene is a milf by the end of the manga

The era a male claymore probably didn’t last very long, given their limitations with awakening too soon. We see that Riful comes along before Isley, Rigaldo, and Dauf have awakened. There is not necessarily anything to actually support this, but I feel like she awakened rather quickly, too. She just seems to be the type to not ever hold back.

After this, we have a handful of number ones that have somewhat of a history in canon, however, we are not given their exact order unless we go in the order they’re introduced by the Organization. We have the names Licht, Chloe, Sistina, and Lutecia. We know there are more Number ones than this, as these are mentioned as specifically being more powerful than the three Abyssal Ones. We can assume these four came before the next set, which we do have some sort of timeline we can follow.

We know Cassandra comes before Roxanne, and we know they both come before Hysteria because Hysteria and Teresa overlap. We can also assume that Luciela came before Hysteria since Luciela awakened when Teresa was still a trainee, but Hysteria was killed when Teresa was a full warrior. What we can infer from this is that Hysteria was No. 1 for several years. Teresa appears to be about 11 or so when she encounters Rafaela after Luciela awakens, though we do not know how long this is after Luciela awakened. Teresa is a fully fledged warrior once she encounters Hysteria, implying several years have passed. Time in the manga is…blurred, but it is mentioned (if not necessarily shown) that training takes years and years before warriors are actually let out on their own.

I also have the personal HC that Irene was a trainee at the same time as Teresa, but did not immediately get a single digit rank. I like to think she actually had difficulty with control at first, which led to her signature technique. She over compensated, and as such, was able to keep the tightest control over her yoki. It’s made very clear that Teresa does NOT have relationships with other warriors, that she does not socialize with them or get to know them. However, she is very familiar with Irene, suggesting they have some sort of history, however you want to read it. Irene also knows so much about her which could be because of two reasons. One: Irene is obsessed with/in love with Teresa or two: Irene makes it a point to know everything she possibly can about her opponents and her teammates so she can assess their strengths and weaknesses and formulate the best plan possible. I personally think it’s a combination of both. When she speaks with Clare, she has clearly thought a LOT about Teresa’s emotional wellbeing outside of just her tactical abilities. In turn, when Teresa awakens through Clare, she recognizes Irene’s arm immediately. Regardless of what their relationship was, I would argue that after Clare, Irene may have been the person who knew Teresa the best. If Priscilla had followed directions, Irene’s plan to kill Teresa would have worked. (Sorry, that became a tangent lol, but it is meant to explain my reasoning for thinking Irene and Teresa were in training together).

Rosemary is only number one for a hot second before Teresa surpasses her. This could have even been just a matter of weeks or months. We can assume she awakened and sent her black card to Teresa soon after.

Now, translations have Teresa listed as the 182nd Claymore of the 77th generation in the Organization, however, I’ve seen some argument that this translation is not entirely accurate and could just be a date or time stamp. It does seem unlikely that there have been 77 generations of Claymore. Despite this, I believe Teresa was Number 1 for a long time. Maybe a decade. It seems that at her time, the top warriors are rather stable, with Irene being well known in her position, and Noel and Sophia being very familiar with each other, as well. Sophia states it’s been a while since she’s seen Irene. They’re all shocked when Priscilla comes along and shakes up the ranking, implying that those ranks have stood for some time. Teresa gives off the vibe of someone who has been stuck or a while, who is going through the motions, who is very comfortable (in a bad way) in what she’s doing. Irene, as well. Both their techniques allow them to keep on when other warriors may have awakened. Teresa doesn’t use her yoki at all outside of fighting Rosemary and Priscilla. This means she is more than likely never going to reach her limit. Irene has become exceptional at controlling her yoki, arguably better than any other warrior. The two of them could have been warriors indefinitely. Teresa also remarks it’s been a while since she’s seen Irene. She doesn’t give an indication that she has any such recognition of the others.

We all know what happens next and we DON’T need to talk about it.

Anyway, the next Number One is likely Alicia. I doubt there was anyone else who would be promoted above them. With the loss of the top five warriors all at once, the Organization would have been forced to take drastic measures. As a Number 5, Elda would not have been suited for Number 1, but it seems she was likely promoted as Rafaela takes the Number 5 spot. At this time, Clare is also around 11 or 12, and as a warrior, she looks to be more in her late teens. The time between Teresa’s death and the start of the Manga is likely 5 or 6 years. Claymore don’t age, but it does seem like they continue to mature until they are adults, as both Teresa and Clare are shown as children even after going through the operation but are also shown as mature adults later.  

After this point, we have a much more definitive timeline, so there isn’t much need to go into it. I mainly wanted to do this exercise so I could think about how old Teresa and Irene are during the events of the Manga. I always headcanon that Teresa is around thirty, Irene a little bit younger perhaps, when Priscilla awakens. This would make Irene around 35 more than likely when she encounters Clare again and over forty by the end of the manga. She and Teresa just exude more maturity than a lot of the other warriors, suggesting they are older than the typical late teens/early twenties of most of the other warriors. Others who reach a more mature age would be Rafaela (obviously), who is likely forty or so when she merges with her sister. Galatea probably is around 30 as Sister Latea. She and Miria come off as older than the other Ghosts. I’d say Miria is a similar age. Clare would be around 23/24 after the time skip, with Helen and Deneve being a few years older, but still younger than Miria. Just going off rank and personality, I’d say Cynthia is around the same age as Deneve, while Yuma and Tabitha are closer to Clare’s age, though maybe a bit older. Alicia and Beth are also probably pretty old for warriors. If we assume they were full adults when Priscilla wakens, say 20, then they’d be over 30 after the time skip.

It is very heavily implied that most warriors do not last long, that especially lower ranks get cycled out very quickly as they either reach their limits or are killed in battle. The higher ranks are logically more likely to have greater control of their yoki and greater chances of surviving their assignments. These ranks are likely more stable, leading to single digit warriors being older and wiser. Reading through the manga, it does become clear that Norihiro Yagi plays fast and loose with the canon timeline, so I have tried to go through this in a logical way that makes sense with what we know in canon and what would be the most realistic timeline, ignoring plot holes or inconsistencies. It makes sense that training takes years. Being strong and fast does not mean you are skilled with a sword. Warriors are generally weaker than full yoma, but they have exceptional sword skills that give them the advantage. For context, in medieval times, it took over 7 years of training for someone to become a knight. In Japan, samurai trained for even longer. Yoma blood could have sped up this timeline, but if we combine this knowledge with Clare and Teresa’s physical differences from trainees to warriors, it looks to be at least 5 years, if not longer. Sometimes, there is this feeling in the manga that number one warriors turn over quickly, but logically, they must last for a while typically. I think Yagi got caught up in the story, which is easy to do when writing such a long story over so many years, and lost sight of what a logical progression of warriors would look like. So, I think from Teresa’s rise to number one to the end of the manga was roughly 20-25 years.

Anyway, this was a long unnecessary justification for me to draw Irene as a milf.

Please let me know if you have thoughts, if you agree with my assessment, if you disagree. More than anything, I love looking at this manga and discussing all the missing pieces, trying to make it all fit together.

[faghubby]

kinky marriage

"Please don't stop, fuck me" Paul moaned. I grew tired and pulled my strapon out of his ass.

"I'm tired sweety. Do you want to ride it?" I asked. I rolled on my back and Paul jumped up and his cock swallowed my toy easily. He rode my toy for another 5 minutes before his cock Leaked cum all over my stomach.

Paul rolled over and laid next to me.

"Paul should I get you a bigger cock" I asked mostly teasing.

"I love your cock baby" Paul said

"I know but would you want to try a thicker one?" I teased his soft dick. He fell silent.

"Okay lazy bones get up" I told him pushing him off the bed. He grabbed his underwear and raced off the the bathroom. He always did this his hole stretched out he felt like he had to potty. When he came out I was already dressed. And fixing my hair. I pinched his butt.

"No panties bitch boy" I teased. He made a look he hated when I teased him about being girlie. Just because he liked to get pegged." He got dressed and came out to the kitchen. Where he saw Teresa sitting there waiting.

"Wow you guys are very vocal" she laughed. Teresa and I were life long friends. She also lived just across the street.

"Who let you in?" Paul said annoyed. I came up behind him and gropped his sore ass. He fell silent, not sure if was to stop from moaning or just not to upset me.

"Relax stud muffin, Kelly told me about your kink months ago. She didn't tell me how much you begged for it" Teresa could be a total bitch.

"TEE!" I scolded. Paul looked at me annoyed but we would talk about it later he knew Tee would take my side and two against one. Paul stormed out.

"Think he be in a better mood after getting railed. You never told me how vocal he is" Teresa laughed.

"Stop" I laughed softly. Checking to see if Paul was still in ear shot. I changed the subject and poured Teresa a glass of wine. We heard Tom go outside.

"This all started because you refused to suck his cock?" Teresa asked.

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" I shot back. Teresa looked at me like I was crazy.

"Okay, yeah I don't like to suck cock. So I told him I would do anything else. He beat around the bushes a bit but then confessed what he wanted. So once a month I peg him." I explained

"Does he fuck you?" She asked.

"Of course" I responded confused

"I mean in the ass?" Teresa clarified

"A few times, but no not really" I told her.

"And you only cum when he goes down on you?" She said. I had told her this before.

"I'm not telling you anything anymore" I told her.

"What if I let you fuck me with your strap on" Teresa asked

"You need a bigger one slut" I shot back. We had a few more glasses of wine.

"Please don't tease Paul anymore" I asked her she agreed. But then said

"Maybe I should just suck his cock" she burst out laughing.

"You need a bigger one" I said without thinking. We both burst out laughing. Paul came back in and we ordered a pizza. Teresa was nice and stopped teasing him. After we ate Teresa went home. I walked straight up to Paul and grabbed his ass.

"Do you want a round two?" I teased. We never did the pegging thing but once a month. Paul looked at me with surprise in his eyes.

"You don't mind" he said almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

"Baby, I would fuck you everyday if that's what you want" I said running my hand across his face then kissing him. I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. The toy was on the sink in the bathroom. Paul grabbed it and for the first time helped me put it on. Tighting the straps. He was on his knees as he did. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of the toy. I didn't do anything I just watched. I had been careful to choose a toy that didn't look like a penis. I leaned forward a bit. The toy slid across his cheek. I cupped his face with my hand he looked up at me. I looked at him trusting to tell him it was okay if her wanted. I positioned the toy at his lips he parted his lips. I just smiled.

He leaned forward and took it in his mouth. I let him explore I didn't do anything but stand there. I ran my hand thru his hair. His eyes closed I watched as he sucked my fake cock. I started to move my hips. He toke more of the toy. Soon he was sucking all 5 inches.

I was so turned on I could feel my juices flowing. Paul was definitely enjoying what he was doing. I lifted my foot and ran it across the bulge in his pants. As I did Paul's body jerked he stopped sucking and grabbed my legs as he moaned and wimpered. He had just cum in his pants I thought. Paul recovered and looked at me embarrassed. I kneeled down.

"It's okay sweety" I said hugging him.

"You won't tell" he said almost in tears.

"I swear not a word" I told him. Helped him up and took him to the bathroom. I undressed him. He blushed when I pulled off his cum filled panties.

"Julie I'm sorry" he whispered, I kissed him he stood naked before me. I felt powerful having him so vulnerable. I helped him into the tub. He sank down into the perfumed water.

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" I asked as I washed his chest with a washcloth. "With a boy?"

I reached down and grabbed his dick. I massaged his soft penis.

"No, I just " he started but fell silent.

"Paul, your in a safe space" I assured him. His penis got hard again he never got hard this fast after cumming.

"Scoot up on the edge of the tub" I told him, he lifted himself and I stroked his dick. I leaned forward and took his penis in my mouth before I even closed my mouth he pumped his load into my mouth. I swallowed. Paul leaned forward and kissed me. He must of tasted his own cum. Paul slipped back into the tub. I left him alone. I was in bed when Paul got out of the tub. He came in wrapped in just a towel.

"Come you can sleep naked" I said pulling back the covers. Paul crawled into bed, he tried to initiate sex.

"Paul I am still on my period" I told him. I didn't like sex during my period. Which is why I usually picked this week to peg him. But I had gotten such a thrill out of him being naked before me. And sucking my toy. I reached over and grabbed his dick he was soft.

"I just want to make you happy" he moaned.

"You do baby" I assured him. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked rolling over to face him.

"Greg" he mumbled.

"What about him?" I asked . Greg was his long term friend since they where kids, he was the best man at out wedding.

"When we where in 9th grade" he said. Letting me fill in the blanks.

"You sucked his cock. Well everyone experiments?" I held him tight for being brave and telling me. Paul looked at me as if he was about to cry.

"It went on for awhile" he tried to open up. I just kissed him again.

"For over a year. Till we both got girlfriends" he spit out I could see the relief on his face. Telling his biggest secret.

"Thank you for telling me. Baby" I cuddled even closer to him.

"Your not mad?" He said as if he was free.

"No, sweety I love you and am glad you told me" we can talk more about it tomorrow if you like. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning I woke to Paul penis Rick hard poking me in the thigh. I smiled I had unlocked something he was never like this. I mean sure wake up with morning wood but not after last night. I rolled over and stroked him. He roused.

"How you felling this morning" I smiled as I teased his dick. He stretched and kissed me. I stopped and got up heading to the shower. Paul followed. He washed my back. He rubbed my breasts but I made him stop. They where tender. He was aroused the whole time.

"Should I put my cock back on?" I asked. He looked worried he wanted it his body told me he did. But he was afraid to ask for it. I got out of the shower, I let him finish up as I put my cock back on again. I stood wearing just panties and the strapon when he got out of the shower. I didn't say a word I just pushed him over the sink. My lubed toy slid in easy. His ass was so well trained. We needed a bigger one. I fucked him hard and fast as he shivered as water dripped off of him. I was relentless. I gave him everything I had my thighs and abs burned before I stopped. I had not even noticed he had already cum in the sink and was just letting me abuse his ass.

A few days later my period over I came home from work and dragged Paul to the bedroom. I was naked in seconds and laid on the bed I was so horny. I pushed his head between my legs. He slowly teased me he was driving me crazy. But he knew exactly how to ,ale me cum with his talented tounge. I bucked and jerked as he made me cum. Multiple orgasms spammed thru me. He held me down in order to keep pleasing me. He finally stooped I tried to catch my breath as he climbed on top of me.

"What are you doing?" I teased. As he tried to put his dick inside me.

"What?" He asked confused.

"I was thinking that there should only be one cock in this relationship" I told him biting his nipple playfully. "And since you like mine way more then I like yours" I teased. I reached down between us and stroked his little dick with two and my fingers and my thumb. He moaned.

"Lay on your back" I told him he rolled off of me his hands at his sides. I stroked him softly and slowly.

"Which do you like more eating my pussy or sucking my cock?" I giggled.

"Your pussy baby" he said breathing heavy.

"But my pussy grosses you out a whole week every month" I reminded him. I rubbed his hard nipples.

"I would love to see you suck a real cock baby" I told him. He just moaned and tried to push against my hand to get more stimulation.

"If I let you cum in my pussy would you lick me clean?" I asked. Again he just tried to fuck my hand. I stopped and spread his legs and teased his hole.

"This is what you really want isn't it?" I teased he moaned even louder. I stopped only long enough to grab a bag fm under the bed. I applied lube to the toy in the bag. Paul just stared at the ceiling i held the new toy to his ass. He loomed up at me with surprise. I didn't wait for him to say anything I pushed it into him. He grunted, started to whin but then moaned as the toy hit his prostate.

The new cock was twice as thick as the previous one I could just touch my fingers as I wrapped them around it and it was 8 incertable. Paul lifted his ass off the bed as I worked the toy in further and further

"FUCK ME!" he screamed. As he came his dick soft. But cum poured out of it, not shoot just dribbled. I had never seen him cum so much ever. I caught some with my free hand and bought it to his open gasping mouth. I just poured about a tea spoon of his cum into his mouth. He tried to complain but I worked the toy and he just gasped and moaned more. I scooped up more of his cum and stuck my fingers in his mouth. He started to suck on them.

"You are such a cock whore" I told him. His penis now totally deflatedand drained just sank almost completelyinto him. His balls tight up against him as well. I removed the new toy from his slutty ass.

"I got you something else. I thought it would be fun to try. But they say you should shave first" I told him pulling out a clean plastic chastity cage. I fiddled with it but you could just pull it right off of him. I was disappointed but when I got up to get dressed I picked uo my dirty panties. Paul was still lying on the bed. I started to put them on him.

"Since I have shown I have the big cock in the relationship maybe you should start wearing thr panties" I told him he didn't resist even lifted his butt so I could slid them in place. They where white brief style panties with little butterflies on them and a wide lace border. He looked so adorable as he made only the slightest bulge in them. I left him to change the sheets and clean the dildo. As I went to start dinner. Paul was wearing basketball shorts when he emerged about 20 minutes later. He also was walking a bit stiff.

"You didn't change did you?" I asked pulling his basketball shorts to see him still in my panties. I started fucking Paul at least twice a week with our new toy. I had put it in my harness and lived to peg his ass with my strapon. But I also made him suck my big toy as well. He learned quickly how to take 6 inches of it down his throat. The last two inches he struggled with until I just rammed them down his throat. I would then have Paul go down on me. Even coating my cunt with his cum first. It had been weeks since he had been inside of me.

"I think you should shave your pussy for me. Like I shave mine" I told him one night as I pushed his head down between my thighs. He just nodded. I was a bit surprised after he had finished pleasing me he got up and filled the tub. I went to see what he was up to only to find him trying to shave his ass. I laughed a little then took the razor and helped him. But I didn't stop at his ass. I trimmed. Then shaved off all his pubic hair. I did that silly strip up to his belly as well. And down to his knees.

"Go put on a pair of my panties" I told him. He had only worn them that one time. But now he seemed much more submissive to whatever I wanted. He did exactly as I asked. Showing me the lilac panties he had picked. Simple cotton briefs but he looked so cute in them. In the morning he went to change.

"You should wear a pair of the bikini style less likely any one will see them peaking out of your jeans" I told him. He looked stunned. Then put his boxer briefs away and picked out a yellow bikini style panties from my drawer. I was actually surprised he put them on. Then finished getting dressed. Before he rushed off to work. I had some time and pulled out my vibrator and masterbated thinking about Paul getting caught and sucking off his boss.

As I pleasured myself I realized I had not been fucked in a month. I shoved the toy deep, I needed to get fucked not by Paul and his little worm. No I like Paul needed a big cock to satisfy me. I came hard before I went to shower. My head in the clouds the rest of the day as I imagined everyone I saw taking me. Fucking me. Not just the men either but the ladies as well. I wanted to finger myself as I thought about my assistant bending me over my desk and fucking me with a huge toy as she called me dirty names.

I wanted to be someone's whore!

"I want you to find a cage that will stay on your clitty. Since we aren't going to use it anymore" I texted Paul. He didn't respond.

I spent most of the afternoon reading about cuckolding your husband. I wondered if Paul would let me fuck a big black man. I rushed home and was making Paul's favorite recipe for dinner.

"Smells great" he told me kissing me. He then showed me his phone. He had picked out and purchased a tiny stainless steel cage. It was less then an inch long.

"Paul, do you want a man to fuxk you?" I asked completely serious. He looked nervous. I knew it was a no, but he wasn't sure.

"How would you feel if I found another man a well hung man to fuck me?" I asked. He again looked worried.

"I have been feeling" I started " no, its more I need someone to dominate me. Like i dominate you, " I told him. I saw him getting hard in his pants I undid his belt and reached down rubbing his penis thru the panties. I then stopped pulled his pants down to his knees and dropped taking him in my mouth he didn't last a minute before he filled my mouth with his seed. I stood and kissed him feeding him every drop.

"I am going to Cuckold you, find a real cock to service me. You can eat their cum from my used stretch cunt" I told him. He just lowered his eyes. "That is the last time you cum like a man" I told him. I put a rush on the cage.

That night I had Paul take pics of me to post on tinder and some other sites. As is et up dating profiles. Some I said I was single others I openly asked for them to Cuckold my husband.

I got a message from a man with in an hour asking questions . I was honest explaining what I was looking for. He sent me first a pic of his face then of him dressed and after an hour of going back and forth we exchanged pics of us each naked. Paul was so turned on he crawled between my legs and started to eat my pussy. As I texted another man. I showed Paul the pic of his cock it was thick. And he claimed 7 inches. He lived nearly 50 miles away though. We text for a few days. Before he told me he wanted to drive out and meet me this weekend. We made plans agreed Paul shouldn't watch at least not the first time. So I made arrangements for Paul to have a guys night out while I entertained my guest.

Frank arrived just after Paul left. He wasted no time. I was naked on my knees in two minutes of his arrival. He was taller and heavier then Paul at 6' 210. His cock was indeed thick I barely could get my lips around it. But so wanted to. He bent me over and drove his cock deep inside me, as he slowly fucked me his finger teased my ass. I didn't say anything so he got more bold. And soon as his finger inside my ass. I handed him lube. I now had it all over the bedroom. Since I fucked Paul so much. He continued to fuck me as he worked his fingers in and out of my ass. Adding another then another.

I was soon cumming all over his big thick cock. But he wasn't done. He filled me onto the bed and with my one leg on his shoulder drove his cock into me hard. I came a second time before he pumped his load deep into me. I laid there spent as he got a drink. He came back and offered me his soft cock. I leaned forward and took it in my mouth he quickly grew hard again. I was in awe, he was a fucking machine. He applied lube to my ass. He was going to fuck my little ass with that thick monster. I screamed into my pillow as he pushed the head in. He then waited letting me become adjusted to it. He went slow and gently as he worked his cock more and more into my ass. But soon I was moaning and begging for more. Till he filled my ass with his cum as well. When Paul returned I was naked cum leaking from both my ass and pussy. As I laid in bed. frank long gone. I made Paul lick this man's seed out of me. He even ran his tounge across my asshole.

I then locked him in his new cage and had him put on the tiniest lace pink thong. I took a long bath as Paul changed the sheets.

Was hooked but so was Paul. I found myself at least once a week meeting a man just for uncomfortable sex. Some of them learned I was as submissive as Paul probably and would use me however they wished. Even sharing me with a friend. Or spanking me, tying me up, blindfolded me, I was game for anything. Even when one guy shared me with his wife. I didn't return home til, the next afternoon. Paul loved to hear about what I had done, but didn't want to watch instead stayed home and waited for my return. Hoping I would peg him.

Till one night I bought two men home. I told Paul they where for him. At first he was scared but they took him. I watched as he sucked them both. One fucked him as the other shoved his cock down Paul throat.

After that Paul agreed to anything. And was soon completely free of any body hair, wore only the sexiest of panties 24/7. And slept in satin nighties. On vacation he would even wear a skimpy bikini to the beach if I told him too. It was hard to keep everything a complete secret and soon a few friends found out. Kelly and I had sex while Paul was allowed to watch. And both of us watched as Paul relived his youth by sucking his friend Greg's cock as Kelly and I watched. Then Greg Kelly and I had a threesome while Paul wore a dress a did the dishes. It's been 5 years since I locked Paul in permanent chastity. And as my anniversary gift to him I am going to run a train on his ass. I hope he loves it as much as I would.

[bad268]

It's Always Been Minho Pt. 2 (TMR Minho X Reader)

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Requested: Yeah, i saw yall asking for part 2 so here it is (thanks @dearestwonderland for the idea! I strayed a bit (a lot) but I left it open for a potential part 3)

Warnings: WICKED

POV: First POV (I/me/she/her)

W.C. 2305

Summary: They survived, but at what cost?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<- Part 1

~~(^Google/Wiki fandom)

I couldn’t see. The sun was blaring down more than it ever did in the maze, and the rays reflected off of the never-ending sight of sand. This was nothing like the glade.

The glade was safe to me. Sure, I was running into the maze every other day and nearly killing myself, but other than that, there weren’t random things out to get me. There weren’t natural elements or random people with the flare after me. Out here, it was brutal.

It was also very awkward. I could tell that the boys felt it too. Maybe it was the feelings Minho and I had not talked about. Maybe it was how Teresa really was not a trustworthy person. Maybe it was because we were spending our days walking through sand and could die at any point. 

We had not even been out of the WICKED facility for longer than a few days but it felt like had been at least a month. All of the days blurred together. Every day was just sand, walking, wind, walking, sand. One day, we finally saw something promising; a city. That was when we finally got a moment to regain our barrings.

I finally had a moment to myself. I was sitting and hiding in a corner of the room we had barricaded ourselves in, and I just wanted to enjoy the solitude after having no breaks. At one point I leaned against the wall and dosed off.  I must have been out for a few hours because when I woke up, the sun was gone and everyone else was asleep. 

Everyone except Minho.

He was standing by a metal trashcan that was lit on fire, trying to stay warm. I walked over to stand beside him, cold as well. It did not take him long to detect the very noticeable shiver I made every once in a while, so he moved his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

“I think it’s time we talk,” I whispered, leaning into his side, but not looking at him. “We haven’t had the chance, but there’s no one to interrupt us now.”

“I like where this is heading,” He smirked, tightening his hold. I immediately scoffed, pushing his arm off of me, and turned to glare at him. “What? It’s a joke!”

“Not everything needs to be sexual,” I answered annoyed as I rolled my eyes. 

“I’m just acting like I did before the maze,” He admitted, “I always made those kinds of jokes with you, and you loved them.”

“Well, newsflash Minho! Not everyone remembers life before the maze!” I pointed out as I shook my head in disbelief. “Pre-maze me may have loved that, but pre-maze me also didn’t have to endure all the sexist comments of the guys around her. Forgive me for not finding a sexual joke funny after being ridiculed for my gender for three years straight.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-” he tried to start, but I cut him off.

“No! You don’t realize!” I nearly shouted. “Minho, you were the worst of them all! You think that suddenly you remember that we were in a relationship makes it all okay, but it doesn’t! I will always remember the things you said to me, and no amount of apologies will fix that. Nothing will bring me back to the girl you remember because, to me, she never existed.”

He was speechless for a moment, absorbing everything I just said. In the midst of my rant, neither of us saw Thomas, Newt, and Teresa wake up, and move closer to see what was going on. After a few beats, he finally said, “I understand that you don’t remember, and I’m sorry I treat you like you should. I just thought that since you saved me in the maze, it meant you felt something toward me, so I took that as a green light.”

“Minho,” I shook my head disappointedly, “not every kind gesture a girl does for you means that they like you. From this point forward, I’m going on my own. Hopefully, I’ll see you in the safe haven, and if not, we’ll die trying.”

I did not give any of them the chance to respond as I turned and walked out of the building. Despite their protests, I kept walking, and I did not turn back. I found an abandoned shack not too far from the original building which was great because I heard the distinct groaning of the cranks nearby. 

The next day, I was up bright and early. I did not want to waste any time in building a distance between me and Minho. That was the last thing I needed. After walking for a few days straight, I found another city. This one looked like people still lived in it. I went up to the gates and knocked.

It took a while, but eventually, a guard came to the door, holding a gun pointed at me. I threw my hands up in surrender. “Please, I’m unarmed!”

“State your business,” he said.

“I’m immune, and I’m trying to find anyone. I’ve been on my own,” I explained quickly. He dropped his gun, not entirely but enough to make me feel less threatened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Who are you?” I told him my name and he nodded and allowed me to enter. “I have to take you to the leaders.”

“Leaders? What is this? A monarch?” I joked, and I received a small smile from the guard.

“No, just the people that keep us from killing each other,” He explained as we walked into one of the bigger buildings. Inside there was not much. A few beds, some stocked up food, and some blankets. He pointed to a couple of crates stacked to look like a chair before saying, “Stay here.”

I sat down and just caught my breath. That’s when it all hit me. Sure, I left the only friends I knew on my own accord, but that did not make it hurt any less. I missed Thomas. I missed Newt. Hell, I missed Minho. I will never admit to missing Teresa though. I still had the nagging feeling that she was a traitor. I did not have to wait too long for the leaders to come into the open space, and when they did, my jaw dropped. 

“Gally?”

“No way, you’re the single trying to join us,” Gally muttered to himself mostly.

“I left the group,” I admitted, knowing he probably thought they died during the journey. “I could not stand to be in Minho’s presence, and I had a bad feeling about Teresa.”

“You and me both, honestly,” He chuckled, and that was the first time I actually laughed with him. “You can stay,” I directed at me before turning to the other leaders and guards around them, “I want her with me at all times. She’s tough. Don’t underestimate her, am I clear?”

That was the day I became one of the guards. I patrolled the premises with Gally every day, talking shit and having fun. Yes, we were constantly running for our lives, but that did not mean we could not have fun too. 

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. All of it blurred together until one night there was a horrible storm. It was the first time it ever rained that I could remember. Granted, it never rained in the glade, so it did feel like it was the first time.

I decided to sit under a covering but still outside, watching in awe of the weather. Eventually, Gally sat beside me, and we sat in silence for a while just enjoying the rain. 

“Are you ever gonna tell me the real reason you split?” Gally broke the silence as he looked over at me. “I know you wouldn’t have left Thomas or Newt unless the circumstances pushed you to it. And you don’t have to tell me! It’s just-“

“He wants me to forget everything that happened,” I muttered, stopping him short. “Minho wants to pick up where we were before the Glade, but I don’t have a memory before the Glade. Plus, he wants me to completely disregard everything he said in the Glade. All the sexist comments, I can’t look past those.”

“Speaking of that, I’m sorry for how I acted in there too,” he apologized. “It was weird having a girl in there, and I got defensive.”

“You’re fine, Gally,” I dismissed immediately. “You stopped after a few months, but this guys kept at it for all three years. That’s three years of me being torn down over and over. That shit hurt, and I don’t think I can just look past that.”

“Maybe, give it time. This time away from him could help you sort yourself out. Think how you really feel about him, if you could ever see yourself with him, and what he would have to do to regain your trust,” Gally consoled. Silence fell between us once again as I started thinking about what Gally said. Could I see myself with him after everything? Maybe. Is that toxic? Yes, but he’ll work for it. My thoughts got interrupted by Gally chuckling, causing me to look over at him questionably. “Nothing, I can just see the gears turning. You can see yourself with him, but you’re upset that he did all this to you.”

“Are you sure you weren’t a therapist or something?” I laughed, lightly punching his shoulder. “But yes. I could see myself with him eventually.”

“Then sleep on it, and maybe we’ll try to find them tomorrow,” Gally suggested as he stood up. He held out a hand for me, which I took as I stood in front of him.

“Deal, I’ll see you in the morning.”

~

The morning was hell. Early that morning, after it stopped raining but before the sun was out, a group was frantically banging on the gate. Unfortunately, Gally and I were the only ones still awake, so we went to check it out.

The last people I expected to see were Newt and Thomas. I immediately noticed that Minho was missing, Thomas looked scared, and Newt had black veins. I knew he had the flare, so I stepped back, providing backup and Gally questioned them while Newt and Thomas just looked at us in awe.

“We thought you both died,” Thomas said, disregarding the entire shpeel that Gally said. “Never thought we’d see you guys again.”

“Well contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” I piped up, moving to stand beside Gally rather than behind him. “Speak of the devil, where is he?”

“That’s why we need your help,” Newt spoke up. He sounded broken like the flare was destroying him from the inside out (spoiler: it was). “He was taken by WICKED, and you were right about Teresa. She was giving WICKED our location the entire time.”

“Maybe next time believe a girl’s intuition,” I replied sarcastically. “And what do you mean ‘taken by WICKED’?”

“During the storm, we found a shack and hid out in it, but Teresa must have known about it because WICKED soldiers were already there,” Thomas explained before looking down. “They ambushed us and took Minho while we all ran.”

“What happened to no man left behind?” Gally exclaimed, reciting the first rule for the runners. One that he knew well since he was such close friends with Ben. “Did any of you fight for him?”

“We did but we can’t really do much against guns,” Newt deadpanned. “That’s why we need your help. You guys have guns, cars, and a helicopter. We can fly into the city and save him.”

“If we’re saving Minho, I would like to propose a sub mission if you will,” I offered, turning to Gally. “As much as I would love to reconcile with Minho, I don’t give a shit if we actually save him, but I’ll be damned if we don’t get the cure. I think that should be the focus.”

Maybe there was some truth behind my words. Maybe there wasn’t. Gally didn’t buy it, but we still decided to go forward with the plan to get the cure. And sure, save Minho in the process.

Minho, on the other hand, was going insane. The last conversation we had was on replay in his head all day every day. Despite the hours of torturing WICKED did to him, all by Teresa’s hand, nothing hurt him more than knowing he fucked up. While sitting in his cell after one of the more brutal beatings, he decied this was his punishment for royally fucking up. Moreover, he decided that it was justified. 

He hated seeing the look of disgust on my face as soon as he made the first comment in the Glade. He also hated seeing the look of defeat after the keepers meeting where I petitioned on Thomas’s behalf. He hated everything he did, and in isolation, all he was left with was his thoughts. 

That is until he heard commotion outside. He thought it was in his head at first and did not want to get his hopes up. However, when he heard keys in the lock, he cowered away, thinking it was a guard to take him again for testing. He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands until he felt gentle palms pull them away. He slowly peeled his eyes open to meet her familiar orbs.

“Hey, we gotta get you outta here. Thomas and Newt are getting the cure, but I need you to follow me now. We’ll talk it out when we’re in the safe haven.” Y/n. It was Y/n. It’s always been Y/n.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[foundfam2754]

S17e5 live reactions!

Spoilers…obviously

- yeah Elias don’t murder anyone if you wanna be an informant

- lol he has a whole receiving parade

- oh my fucking god Elias is messing w our papa pasta :(

- oh I just realised it has been ages since he’s actually spoken to him not in his mind - you got this bud ❤️

- car sex is just not it man

- OH DEBBY RYAN LOOKALIKE AND DAMIAN I see

- the girl reminds me of cat adams - revenge murder and maybe the most brutal bc of so much hurt in the past - in fact this whole thing gives me dirty dozen vibes

- “you’ve been taking to to yourself” “I’ve been talking to myself for years” idk why that made me laugh hard

- AM I ONLY THE ONE WHO SEES THE SPENCER REID PLAQUE COMING UP A LOT??? Pls let mgg come back oh my god

- hehe garvez is standing together 🥰

- protective luke 🥹

- “no!” “Everyone’s a comedian” HAHAHA

-“hands-off asshole” yeah give me more protective lukey pleaseeeee; also gives vibes of ‘don’t touch my girls stuff asshole’ which I LOVE

- “what’s up with you two…cause there’s a vibe” OH MY FUCKING GOD PENELOPE EVEN SICARIUS SEES IT. OPEN YOUR EYES AND LET HIM LOVE YOU

- couples who bully sicarius about his hygiene together stay together 🥺 🤝

- I kinda love how they’re filming this - they’re profiling together in the bull pen and workshopping - Elias has a weird chemistry w them

- lol pen with the handkerchief

- DONT TOUCH HER

- this is too easy; I’m so suspicious: I feel like he’s gonna do the same with Bailey - say something code-wordy to hint to him

- also why does it feel like Elias is being too helpful? like I think maybe he’s so invested bc 1) he gets to mess with Dave by being part of his team 2) Damian is a loose end and has some evidence to tie him to sicarius offficially

- I TOLD U HE WAS GONNA CODE WORD IT. I KNEW THE TIPPY TAP MEANT SOMETHING

- I love smart strategic confident Em and she and Dave plotting to fuck Elias over together

- is he finally gonna shower??

- “dave” like they’re besties

- LOVE THIS SHOT

- EW THEY HAD VOIT SAY OUR PRECIOUS PHRASE - but okay no that was so impactful

- oh my god he’s fucking with them so hard oh my god

- JJ SAID FUCK!!

- OH MY GODDDDDDD they’re talking about jealous Luke they’re talking about Penelope and Tyler they’re SAYING IT OUTRIGHT I CANT TALK I CANT TYPE I AM SCREAMING I LITERALLY GOT OFF MY COUCH AND JUMPED ACROSS MY APT

- ew tynelope is so gross greencia is so much better

- Luke you didn’t say nooo?! we all know it drives you crazy agent alvez

- so chaotic Elias is so funny man; kudos to Zach Gilford

- PAPA PASTA PROTECTING HIS FAMILY. You mess with Pen, Rossi brings the heat

- isn’t “locking you in a shipping container” a confession?? why are they not more interested in that?

- oh my god Brian’s gaslighting her - falling into the conspiracy thing again - everyone’s vulnerable and only hearing what they want too

- haha lukey doing yoga

- oh my god how do they do anything without Penelope

- hey kiddos - voit is leaving?? Pls pay attention to him

- is Rossi gonna let him run??

- oh my god they’re profiling each other

- OH MY GOD DAMIAN. I KNEW ELIAS WAS GONNA CODE WORD IT.

- “Teresa is in trouble”!??

- TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU KEEP MORE SECRETS

- oh my god the sicarius smile

- aw tebecca!

- EM :(( be vulnerable babe we’re here for you

OH MY GOD THIS EP WAS SO GOOD

[midnightfiremoon]

It's crazy to think about how the TMR movies are literally just a published AU. Like, they have a lot of the same elements, but it is not the same. That's no shade to the movies, they're good in their own right, but I just think it's wild. (Below is a rant, feel free to ignore)

One of the biggest things that I noticed they changed in the movies is the involvement of Teresa and Aris in WICKED.

In the movies, Teresa actually lost her memories and was given them back, and THEN she decided to go back to WICKED. In the books, she never lost her memories and worked for WICKED up until she found out about the second Trials and sold them out to the Right Arm.

Aris is hilariously different, actually. Movie!Aris was completely unaware of what was going on with WICKED and wanted to help Thomas get out of that facility because of when they found the kids being drained. He is an incredibly important character, as the Gladers probably never would have realized what was going on and wouldn't have escaped. Also, when they found the Right Arm, they very well could have gotten themselves shot if Harriet and Sonya hadn't recognized Aris. But Book!Aris was the same as Book!Teresa: he worked for WICKED and had his memories. He betrayed Thomas intentionally, knew what he was doing.

I think the deaths are also important. Teresa's was kind of different, but it did have the same essential elements.

Movie!Teresa could have been saved if she'd just gotten onto the Berg. Book!Teresa was crushed by falling rubble. She was trapped, unable to be saved in the amount of time they had.

Move!Alby's death was an accident. They almost completely removed his reaction to the Changing, which is a key factor in Book!Alby's death, which was intentional on his part. Book!Alby saw the work, saw how horrible it was, and refused to go home.

Movie!Chuck took the bullet for Thomas, showed bravery and love for Thomas in his final moments. Book!Chuck was forced to take the knife for Thomas, thrown in front of him at the last moment. It was just another nail in the coffin of how WICKED had completely ripped a childhood from a twelve-yead-old boy.

Movie!Newt's death was an accident (maybe not, maybe he intentionally stabbed himsef). He could have been saved, Brenda was just thirty seconds away with the vial of Thomas's blood - the Cure. Book!Newt could not have been saved because they had no known Cure. He was descending into a blood-crazed madness, and in a worse state than Thomas had last seen him before their final moments. Also, somehow, Book!Newt was the Cure. He could have cured himself if WICKED had figured out what was in his and Sonya's blood (The Maze Cutter has shaken me to my very core, wtf is this fact).

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Fight: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: After a weird encounter with your parents and friends, you try to get to the bottom of it even if you don't like the answer.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"I have found the paradox that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." - Mother Teresa

"Anything on your mind?" Melissa asks when you're in your morning session.

"Something weird happened on Friday with my parents." It's Monday so you haven't been to work to ask the girls about it. "I don't think my friends like my parents."

"Why do you say that?"

"Okay, so, my friends agreed to come with me and meet them even though they couldn't stay long. I'd have my boyfriend there but he and my dad don't exactly get along. When they met my friends, I immediately felt uncomfortable. It was coming from them like they didn't feel comfortable around them. My parents were super nice so I'm not sure why they felt like that. They even lied to them about why they had to leave so suddenly."

"Did you ask them about it?"

"I didn't want to embarrass them. I'll ask them when I go to work today."

"Why doesn't Spencer like your dad?"

You sigh and shift in your seat. 

"He thinks they're criminals." You see the look on her face and immediately explain. "Not like that. I guess I mean that he thinks they have ulterior motives. They're foster parents and have always been foster parents. Spencer thinks they're doing something dangerous on the side. I don't know. I don't want to talk to him about that."

"Why is that?"

"I guess I don't want to see my parents being anything other than my parents. They're loving, of course, but they can be scary. My dad, mostly."

"Do you fear them?"

"I never did and never have. My dad has scary qualities, for sure, but I never thought my life was in danger because of them. He's a very stressed man. He has young kids to take care of on top of his job."

"What does he do?"

"He's an independent contractor. He gets odd jobs here and there but it's enough to pay the bills, and it allows my mom to stay at home with the kids."

"Well, if nothing is wrong, then maybe you're allowing that fear you had from prison to project onto your friends and family."

"Yeah, maybe," you sigh.

"Speaking of, how are you feeling about prison?"

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. Remember that friend I told you about? The one that was falsely accused? I got her released. I worked with my team on a case that just so happened to be hers. We gathered evidence that got her released."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Like my old self again," you smile sheepishly.

"How is the IRT coming along?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not having nightmares as much as before. The only nightmares are mainly about the rape and the birth."

"That's to be expected coming from such a young age. Trauma like that doesn't go away overnight."

"Apparently, it doesn't go away after sixteen years either."

Melissa closes her notebook with a smile.

"I do have to say, I'm impressed with your progress. You look better."

"I feel better," you smile.

After your session, you head straight to the airport where the jet is waiting. Hotch got in contact with an old friend with a case in San Francisco. The Red Cell as they like to call themselves are a group of FBI agents, and they've been tracking a case that is three years old. Two years ago, a dead man turned up in Presidio Park with a massive amount of blunt-force trauma, defensive wounds, and a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. Over the next three days after that, three more victims with the same MO turned up. After that, nothing.

Until a year ago when the exact same thing happened--one dead male, badly beaten, and shot execution style. Three more dead men followed that three days after. Nothing happened after that until last night when another body turned up in the exact same style as the others which means the Red Cell has three days to find the unsub before he's lost for an entire year.

The leader of the Red Cell, Sam Cooper, thinks there are parallel murders linked to the cases. Two years ago after the murders stopped, a single dad and his fifteen-year-old brunette daughter were found dead in their car. Last year after the murders stopped, another dad and his daughter were found dead.

Hotch doesn't think both cases are related but Sam does. He'd like for your team to work the bodies in Presidio Park while the Red Cell works the theory on the fathers and daughters. If Sam is right then one half of the case solves the other half. The only thing is that Sam asked Strauss about doing this and she said no, but that doesn't mean he is going to listen to her. If he's wrong about this and the two cases aren't connected, then Strauss will have his ass and his job.

Still, Sam is dead set on figuring this out with or without Hotch's help. Luckily, Hotch has never been a fan of how Strauss handles things which is why you went straight to the plane instead of back to the office after your morning session.

"What do we know about the past years' victims?" Rossi asks.

"The Tenderloin District has a high concentration of drug addicts and homeless people. All the victims have been transients," Spencer says.

"So, this unsub is choosing easy targets that won't be missed. He's not concerned with the challenge of the hunt. All these victims are part of a larger plan which he executes in the same few days every year."

"Reid, did you find any significance to the dates?" Hotch asks.

"Nothing historical. It's gotta be personal for the unsub."

"JJ, you and Reid hit the San Francisco PD. Rossi, Y/N, and Prentiss go to the dump site. Morgan and I will go to the coroner's office. Nobody should expect to get a lot of sleep for the next three days."

"What about Cooper's team? You said he had a theory," Rossi says.

"He believes that whoever is murdering these homeless men is also abducting fathers and daughters and killing them once the transients are disposed of."

"Why isn't his team on the jet now?" Emily asks.

"Because the director wouldn't authorize them to join the investigation."

"They're working against the director's orders?"

"Let's not focus on that. We need to concentrate on the dead men abducted from the Tenderloin. Cooper's team can help determine if there's a missing father and daughter, and whether it's connected to our case."

"Or you could get in serious hot water if the director thinks you're helping to defy her," Emily says.

"No, Hotch is right," Rossi says. "I've known Sam Cooper for twenty years, and I've never seen him defy an order. If he feels this strongly about a hunch, we need to help him however we can."

So, how do you conjure victims of a crime that might not have been committed out of thin air in a major American city? San Francisco has a population of eight hundred thousand people with half of them males. Forty-five percent of the population is white so that leaves about three hundred and sixty thousand people. If the team searches for girls from thirteen to eighteen, narrows it some more to brunettes, and narrows that down to their fathers who haven't shown up to work, then maybe the Red Cell might be able to find the missing family before they are killed.

All the dump sites including the most recent murder have been scoped out by you, Rossi, and Prentiss. Every single dump site has been isolated like the unsub avoids the main paths and never dumps them in lightened areas. In order to get the best location, he'd have to study the terrain beforehand which means he's organized and physical enough to haul a body on his own. Every victim was living on the streets so there were no witnesses when he grabbed them. Your guess is that he managed to lure them with the promise of food or drugs. None of them were reported missing which makes it harder to figure out who might be next.

The most recent victim was found at Presidio Park. The ME determined that if he hadn't been shot in the head, then he would have died from internal bleeding. Not only was the victim shot, but there is powder residue in his skull which means he had to have been subdued when he was shot. It doesn't make sense. He got abducted off the streets quietly enough that there were no witnesses, but then he fights for his life only for the unsub to shoot him execution style. What the hell is he doing with these men?

The Red Cell looked into potential missing girls and talked to over two hundred middle schools. There have been a lot of absent girls but not a lot of absent fathers. Those who were absent were cross-referenced with their yearbook photos to see who were brunettes. They came up with a young girl named Jane McBride who is fourteen. She didn't show up for school yesterday or this morning, and her dad, Ben, hasn't been at his contracting company for the last two days.

You, Hotch, and Sam head over to Jane's mother's house to talk to her. They might not be the couple you're looking for but it's as good a start as any. Hotch parks and all three of you get out of the car. You walk across the street and stop in front of Sarah McBride's house, knocking on her door.

"Mrs. Mcbride? I'm Agent Hotchner with the FBI. This is Agent Cooper and Agent Y/N. We're here to determine whether your husband and your daughter are missing."

"Don't," she gasps. You can feel the panic come off her in waves. "Just get inside, please. Hurry." All three of you rush inside with her permission. She closes the door and leans against it with a pained look on her face. "Oh, God."

"Sarah?" you ask.

"You just got my family murdered."

"What do you mean?"

She pushes off the door and walks to the living room where her TV is. She puts a disc into the DVD player and turns it on. On the screen is the first victim tied to a chair. He is struggling against the binds but nothing will protect him against the gun in the frame. The unsub is holding it but he doesn't give any indication of who he is. He shoots the victim in the head and Sarah looks away from the video painfully.

"That's the first victim from the park," Hotch mumbles.

"The man on the phone said he'd kill Ben and Jane if I brought in the police. He said that if I needed proof, I should check my front porch. When I did, this was there."

"Oh, he's careful. There's nothing to distinguish him or his location," Sam says.

He walks over to the DVD player and removes the disc with a tissue to avoid his fingerprints on it.

"Were there any other instructions?"

"No. He said he'd call with more. Do you think he's watching? I mean, is he going to kill them?"

"The video was shot by a camera on a tripod which means he probably doesn't have a partner. It would be almost impossible for him to take your family prisoner and do surveillance simultaneously."

"He's done this before?" You nod silently. "Why didn't someone come forward after to say what happened?"

"He doesn't leave anybody with knowledge alive. We'll post an agent here to keep you safe. Can you excuse us for a moment?" You, Hotch, and Sam leave her house to talk on the street. "Cooper, listen. Your theory's right. We know he's killing homeless men as well as fathers and daughters, but let us work it. If you go back to DC now, the director won't know that you ignored her order."

"Look, I know you're sticking your neck out on this thing for me. I understand. I don't... I'm not trying to..."

"This isn't about me. I want to protect you."

Sam takes out his wallet and pulls a picture from it.

"Do you remember him?"

"Holby Holme. Of course."

"Do you remember we got that confession for those five child murders? We all had that gut feeling. We knew he wasn't good for all of them. The preference was too varied. Local cops shut the investigation down. The FBI told us to get our asses back home."

"I remember," Hotch nods.

"Where were you when you heard they caught that second killer dumping this boy's body?"

"I was in Denver working a new case. You?"

"I wasn't on anything yet. I could have still been there. I won't ignore my gut again. I don't care what it costs me."

Hotch sighs. "Okay. My people will be on the record, and we'll use yours to double manpower."

Sam steps off to the side for a quick breather, and you tap Hotch's shoulder shyly. You've been wanting to say this to him for a while now and this is your opportunity to do so.

"Listen, Hotch, I just want to say I'm sorry for how I've been these past few months. I wasn't in my right mind but that's no excuse. I turned my back on people I needed and shut them out when they tried to help. You were one of them. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. You were going through something traumatic. It's okay."

"No, it isn't. I'm going to do better and be better for this team. I'll prove to you that I'm not going to let you down."

"I have no doubts," he smiles. It's amazing how much of a support system you have here with your team. Hotch is understanding when he needs to be and that means more to you than he realizes. His phone rings and he answers it. "Hotchner. ... Where? ... Okay." He hangs up. "They found another body." He turns to you. "Prentiss and Agent Rawson are already on it. Join them."

"Okay," you nod.

x

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[toby-du-coeur]

incomplete list of ways movie!newt could've survived, because

im rewatching tdc and i honestly can't take it and am gonna chew through my own arm in his memory

NEWT DOESN'T TURN

mary makes some extra serum for brenda for the road, & so they have it when newt is infected

since lawrence is gonna sacrifice himself anyway, gally gets the remainder of his serum from him in exchange for breaking into wckd, buying newt time

instead of getting drunk and wandering the halls she is IN CHARGE OF, ava kills janson or does anything else to thwart him & help the kids

there's some serum they're currently running tests on that's outside the vault, and they take a detour sometime in the minho-rescue to get some

gally deep enraged breaths gally takes the fucking serum with him, when he runs from brenda & the kids to go bring thominewt back

thomas kisses him and they cuddle a lot during all the shenanigans. this makes newt less stressed, buying time 😊😊😊

or. hear me out. xanax

during the battle, wckd captures thominewtally and takes them to teresa and ava, who make the serum and cure newt. then they break out

they continue talking to brenda through the walkie-talkie, and when the berg flies over them, they drop down a hook and pick the boys up. since we all know wckd has stormtrooper aim, they make it. and then maybe they pick up teresa from some rooftop

IF NEWT TURNS

thomas [sometime during wckd training, runner training, or vince] has learnt the fireman's carry and is able to carry newt faster and also like.. just let him gnaw on him or whatever if he starts to turn, or knock him out real quick

thomas hears teresa say 'it's your blood,' immediately cuts himself and newt open and does some kind of blood brothers thing, which.. at least shocks newt's system enough that the serum arrives. and then thomas is lowkey bleeding out but newt is back to sanity & sarcasm enough to finish things off

thomas knocks newt out with the gun or like shoots him in the leg, buying time

they've picked up one of those stun serum thingies like janson uses, and use it on newt

thomas sticks the serum in newt in desperation and rage after he's just been knifed, bella cullen style {with plenty of those squishy stabby noises like in breaking dawn} and he comes back to life

[and after that, as teresa's done her same speech over the intercom, newt is reasonable with him so they get thomas' sweet sweet cure blood as well]

they get some serum to newt and escape to the safe haven. teresa and that bit of serum from the napkin survive. newt stays v e r y c a l m and slowly deteriorates for months, living on the bag of serum and their half-botched attempts to make more. and then teresa shows up 😘

teresa doesn't survive, but thomas keeps newt alive with the extra serum until he manages to make a working cure out of sheer grit and bloodloss and memories of wckd, because he loves newt to the point of invention

and the one that i half-genuinely see in the canon film:

the knife misses his heart. {they LITERALLY do not pull the knife out, check for a heartbeat or touch him in any way, it's insane}. the thomas-blood-knife + newt's undying love [*] resurrect him. he battles his way to the safe haven and they can give him that vial of the cure that thomas is left just holding like a loose end <3

[*plus some faint multidimensional influence of the dashner canon that newt apparently IS the cure, which.. afaik how immunity/cure works is that your body produces enzymes that fight it off FOR YOU and therefore can be transferred to fight it off for others.. so what kinda shuck sense does t h a t make]