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#marcus pike deserved better
guelyury · 5 months
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Max Phillips, Dave York and Marcus Pike... Shaved Pedro era is so important to me.
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wardenparker · 1 year
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Two part statement here.
1. I would 1000% ship you with Marcus Pike. I think of you when I think of him, and everyone deserves that wholehearted, enthusiastic brand of love that he excels at giving. The cuddles, the gifts, the care when you're sick, the "just thinking of you" messages throughout the day. 🫠🫠🥰
2. I CANNOT WAIT for you to give Marcus Pike a soulmate. That man deserves nothing less than the best, and you will give it to him. I loved Starting Over and Idiot's Guide so much and I know you will do wonderful things with this man.
Oooo, I accept this compliment with the highest gratitude. Marcus Pike is an angel and I hope to always do right by him in every story.
THAT BEING SAID! @absurdthirst and I have actually been talking about his soulmate story over the last few days. We've morphed our original idea into something a little unconventional and I'm really excited for it! I'm not sure when it will happen, but when it happens it's gonna be a little out of the ordinary (I hope).
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Anonymously (or not) send me the fictional character(s) you would ship me with.
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wannab-urs · 11 months
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Finally watching season 6 of The Mentalist and… Marcus Pike really did deserve better.
He’s literally so sweet and caring? Poor baby fell for a woman who was obviously into someone else (which i don’t really blame her, Jane is hot too).
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perotovar · 8 months
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What are you doing here? Well, I was upstairs... giving a deposition, and uh... I thought I would say hi. Stupid idea...
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That vanity fair photo shoot and all the videos were definitely what i needed to wake up to this morning.
Also, yes, we ALL also find things to watch The Mentalist for that are NOT the overarching plot lines and main characters, Pedro. It’s good to know you’re one of us.
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missredherring · 4 months
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@agentmarcuspike said this on a gifset about Jay Castillo:
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And my brain is turning it over and over like a shiny rock and then presents me with this:
What if it wasn't just weed but art dealings the family was involved with, and Marcus gets assigned to the case?
He meets Jay and has to question him about his involvement in his ex-wife's family business.
They're both dealing with the fallout of failed relationships at different stages. At this point it's been a few years since Teresa for Marcus, and the pain is still raw for Jay.
Maybe they find common ground in their love for art and become friends, to more than friends.
It could just be a single, Jay x Marcus mlm relationship, but because I like to shove myself in there, a reader could be in there too.
Maybe they want Jay as their tattoo artist and he's a little reluctant because of his immediate attraction to them, so they have to woo him a little, and that's not helping things at all.
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creedslove · 29 days
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besties, it's that time of the month
that time of the month = the time I remember what that fucking bitch Teresa did to our sweet handsome perfect husband Marcus Pike and I get angry again 😡
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pedroscurls · 27 days
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second chances | pt. 1
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Character(s): Marcus Pike x fem!Reader Summary: After a stressful past couple of days at work, Marcus is ready to spend his day off relaxing. Until he gets a new neighbor asking for his help. Word count: 1.3k  A/N: I've become a Marcus Pike girlie and I can't go back now. Don't even get me started on Lisbon... So, I decided that Marcus Pike deserves a happy ending. Stay tuned and enjoy! Warning: None.  SERIES MASTERLIST - ultimate masterlist
Since moving to Washington DC – alone – Marcus has busied himself with work. Long hours in the office. Late nights. Barely any sleep. It was his way of distracting himself from the fact that Lisbon had chosen Jane over him. Marcus wasn’t a jealous man, but he was filled with frustration at himself for seeing a future with someone who was so obviously in love with someone else. 
Marcus was never going to be the one Lisbon chose. 
And he should have known better. 
Now, after six months of being in DC, Marcus’s colleagues finally convinced him to take the next couple of days off. Each day was getting better and better, but the pain still lingered. 
He wakes that morning to the sound of a knock at his door. Marcus looks at the time; he’s usually awake and out of the door by six, but with today being his first day off, he had decided to sleep in a little bit. It’s only eight in the morning and Marcus wonders if he just stays in bed that maybe the person knocking on his door would just leave and after a few minutes, the knocking stops. 
With a relieved sigh, Marcus sits up from bed and decides to get ready for the day. He isn’t yet sure what he has planned, but he does know that he wants to keep to himself, to minimize the amount of people he would need to talk to as much as possible. He stands from his bed and stretches his arms above his head, dressed in a white v-neck and plaid boxers. 
“Coffee,” he mumbles to himself. “First thing’s first, need coffee.” Marcus runs a hand over his hair and walks out of his bedroom to the kitchen, beginning to make a pot of coffee for himself. 
He looks around and lets out a sigh. He had imagined that his life in DC would be different, that he’d be with Lisbon, that she’d give more life into this home, but instead, he’s standing alone in a very bland and basic apartment. It has a nice view, but how nice could it be if you can’t share it with anyone else?
He walks to his patio and opens the sliding door. Marcus can hear the sounds of cars – honking and speeding – as it passes below him. He glances over to his right and Marcus can hear the chatter from his neighbor. He doesn’t remember someone living next to him, so he just assumes that it’s someone new moving in. Marcus just hopes that this new neighbor of his won’t keep him up at night. 
His mind drifts to Lisbon and Marcus wonders what she’s doing. Her green eyes and smile had captured his attention from the moment he laid eyes on her. Marcus was sure that what he had with her was real, that it would be his second chance at love after his failed marriage, and for a while, Marcus believed that his life would be different when Lisbon agreed to move in with him to DC, then agreed to marry him. 
Marcus never wanted to let her go. 
His thoughts are interrupted when the coffee pot goes off and the knocking on his door begins again. Marcus figures that the person wouldn’t leave until he answers, so he walks towards his door and opens it. His eyes soften instantly at the sight of you and he’s now become so aware of what he’s wearing. 
“Um–”
“Hi, I’m so sorry. I know it’s early and you’re probably getting ready for work, but I’m having trouble with moving my bed through the door and I just–” you take a deep breath, realizing that you must be rambling and that you’re asking a complete stranger to help you move. 
“Let me start over,” you say. “Hi. Good morning. I’m your new next door neighbor,” you laugh nervously and then tell him your name. 
The corner of Marcus’s lips lifts upwards and he nods, looking over your shoulder at the large bed that’s leaning against the wall. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marcus.” Then, he points to your bed. “You sure that’s gonna fit?” 
“A bit too late for that, I think.” You blush. “I should have just hired movers, but I thought I could do this myself.”
“You’re in luck,” he chuckles. “It’s my day off and I have no plans whatsoever, so I’m happy to give you a hand. Let me just get dressed and I’ll be right out.” 
Then, you look down at his frame and realize what he’s wearing. Your eyes slightly widen and the blush on your cheeks redden even further. “Oh right! I’m so sorry. I’ll just–” you clear your throat and point over your shoulder, turning on your heel and tripping over your feet. “See you in a bit.”
Marcus quietly chuckles to himself. He finds your clumsiness cute and he gives you one more glance before he shuts his door. He walks back into his bedroom and slips into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Marcus walks back into his kitchen and grabs two mugs, pouring the coffee he made into each cup before he walks out of his apartment. When he looks up at you, he smiles when he sees you trying to make the bed fit into the door all by yourself. 
Eager, he thinks to himself. And independent. 
“Hey,” Marcus calls out softly. “Here, take a break.” He hands you a mug of coffee. 
You look up at him and smile, taking the mug from his hand and leaning against the wall with a sigh. “You’re amazing, thank you.” 
“So, it’s just you moving in?” Marcus asks, sipping his cup of coffee.
“Yeah. I got a new job teaching kindergarten at a nearby private school, so…” You take a careful sip of the coffee and look down at your feet. 
“Well, welcome to the club. I just moved here about six months ago.” 
“From where?” 
“Texas, you?” 
“California.” Then, you raise your mug and gently tap it with his, smiling up at him. “Cheers to us newbies here in DC.” 
Marcus chuckles. “Cheers to that.” 
You drink about half of the coffee before you set it down. You then clasp your hands together and look up at him with a hopeful look in your eyes. “You ready?” 
He smiles to himself. “That was barely a break.”
“It was five minutes, that was enough.” 
Marcus chuckles. He finds that it’s easy to talk to you and he’s beginning to enjoy being around you, even if he just met you ten minutes ago. “Alright, you’re the boss.” 
It takes you and Marcus the next half hour to bring your king-sized bed into your apartment and then into your bedroom. Your apartment is a bit smaller than his, but it might also be because of the amount of boxes scattered around. Once you and Marcus set your bed the way you want it to in your bedroom, you lead him back outside to your living room and plops down onto the couch. 
“So, uh, I should get going and–” 
“Wanna grab breakfast?” you interrupt him. “Sorry. If you have something to do, that’s okay. I appreciate all your help, Marcus.” 
Marcus wants so badly to say yes, to get to know more about you, but he has to remind himself that this is what happened last time with Lisbon. He’s sure that love and being in a relationship is no longer something he’s interested in. 
“I actually have to go into the office,” Marcus lies. “But rain check?” 
You nod and stand from the couch to walk him out of your apartment. You smile up at him and then reach down to grab the two mugs that were left in the hallway. You hand it over to him and stare into his eyes. “Next time, I’ll bring coffee to you.” 
Marcus smiles and takes the two mugs. “Sounds like a plan.” 
“Thank you again, Marcus.”
Marcus nods and then begins walking towards his apartment before he turns around and faces you. He’s a few feet away from you and you’re about to walk into your apartment before he stops you and says, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
next.
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rosepascal · 7 months
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Oh whoops, I sent a lemon instead of a mango. Sorry, brain wasn't functioning as well. Let me try again!
🥭 - Pedro Boys favourite positions! (If not done before)
Congratulations on the milestone 🥳
thank u anon!! sorry this is so late
NSFW WARNING - MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY
ft: Joel Miller, Jack Daniels, Din Djarin, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Max Phillips, Max Lord, Javi G, Javi P, Dieter Bravo, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell
Joel Miller - Okay so I think Joel's favorite position is like prone bone or from behind bent over on something. I see him as a dominating guy so honestly I think he'd like to take you from behind. It lets him pound into you, dig his hands into your ass (he's an ass man tyvm) just take control and give you the pleasure you deserve
Din Djarin - Mm so helmet on makes things hard but I think he'd like. The position where you're laying down together and your back is to his chest and he's got your leg up and just fucking you that way. Def gonna be some blindfold action if he wants his helmet off but it lets him be close to you while nuzzling into your neck with his helmet/head.
Agent Whiskey - Is it too cliché to say cowgirl? Okay but seriously I could see him as a power bottom guy who likes you on top so he can watch your boobs bounce but he's the guy to plant his feet and fuck into you from the bed to watch you fall apart
Marcus Pike - He likes you on your back with your legs up, like way up. Spread Eagle. His hands would be wrap around your thighs and on the bed so he's pushing them up while he fucks you. I think he's the kind of guy who likes to see your face but he's got some kinkiness in him
Marcus Moreno - Honestly I think he's more vanilla personally. So its missionary but just because its missionary doesn't mean it's boring. Sometimes he'll spice things up and use his powers to hold you to the bed etc...
Max Phillips -Idk why but I think this guy is into 69ing. He wants to devour some pussy while getting his cocked suck. Simple desires really. The mutual pleasure is what turns him on because the better he is at playing with you cunt the more you'll moan and choke on his cock.
Frankie Morales - Okay for Frankie I think it would be cowgirl but he's sitting up too so he can kiss your neck and chest and wrap his hands in your hair. Idk what the position is properly called but he wants that closeness and so that's his go to position. You bouncing on his cock in time with his thrust's while he buries his face in your neck is purr
Max Lord - Max likes you on his lap facing away from him. He keeps your legs spread with his own and makes you hold onto the headboard behind you as he gently fucks you silly. His arms wrapped around your waist so you couldn't move away from him.
Javier Pena - Honestly I don't think Javi has a favorite. I think he likes them all pretty equally. If he had to choose one I'd say doggy style because sometimes he just wants to wreck you and what better way then to put you on your hands and knees.
Javier Gutierrez - Javi goes for a much sweeter and sensual position. I think he'd like one leg up missionary. He's soft and sweet as he fucks you hard and slow. He gets to see your face and be close to you which is what he wants. Also likes it when you ride him.
Dieter Bravo - Dieter is a wild guy. I think he has a list of sex positions he treats like a bucket list and finds joy in every single one of them. I think Dieter would like some less common one like wheelbarrow. I could also see him being into having his partner on the bed on their back and him standing. Hot and pleasurable
Oberyn Martell - I am fully convince that Oberyn doesn't have a favorite. Every position has their pros and cons and he appreciates every single one of them. On your back, on your stomach, standing, on the floor. It doesn't matter to him. He loves them all.
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New Years wishes
Week 5 of the Winter Writing Challenge
prompt: "I wanna be your last first kiss.“
Summary: After spending difficult six month without Marcus he surprises you for New Years Eve.
Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.1k
Rating: G
Warnings: fluff, also angst, little heartbreak, Marcus is having a tiny midlife crisis, but it all turns out good in the end
A/N: totally stealing from Greys Anatomy I'm not even sorry
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
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You don’t know why you let Charlotte talk you into going to her New Years eve party. You weren’t big on parties, and you definitely weren’t looking forward to this one. 
But you were looking forward to this year finally being over. 
That’s the only reason Charlotte used to talk you into coming to her party, to celebrating this year finally being over and to starting a new year which would hopefully bring you more than heartbreak. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, your gaze landing on the necklace you were wearing. 
The necklace Marcus had gifted you for your first anniversary. 
It was a little cupcake on a golden chain, because it was through a cupcake that the two of you reconnected a year before. 
Marcus was Charlotte’s big brother. Growing up you had the biggest crush on him but it would almost take twenty years for it to finally become more. 
And it was a chance meeting. 
You were working in your little bakery, not far away from FBI headquarters and Marcus had moved to town after getting offered to be the leading agent of the art crime division. You would only learn later that this new job originally also entailed a new fiancé. 
But her loss was your gain in the end. Marcus started to spend all his lunch breaks in your little bakery, reconnecting and slowly falling in love with you. 
And things had been going perfectly. 
Eight months after you officially started dating he moved into your little house, just outside of the city you had inherited from your grandmother after she died. 
You were so in love with each other, that you really didn’t know how to react when Marcus wanted a break. 
It had been after another lengthier mission that Marcus had come home and asked for a some time apart. That he needed some time to think about his life and how he could be the best version of himself for you, and while it broke your heart, you were willing to give him everything he wanted if it made him feel better. 
That was almost six months ago and you had both only seen each other a handful of times. He assured you that it wasn’t you, that he had some things he needed to work out with himself and that you deserved to have the best version of himself if you still wanted him. 
Of course you wanted him. You would always want him. 
You were beyond confused, asking yourself if it was something you did that made him feel this way. 
You missed him. Every single day. 
You went from daydreaming about the future with him together, both of you planing your wedding, where you would live, how many children you would have, to lonely microwave dinners and reruns of the bachelor until you fell asleep in front of the TV.
Christmas had been beyond depressing. 
You never had much family left in the first place, and the last years had been spent with the Pike’s. You were invited of course, but you could not bring yourself to go there and spend the day with Marcus and his family, when you were hurting deep down about your relationship status. 
You had tried to talk to him since he moved out, but he had only asked for more time, telling you that he would understand if you were getting tired of waiting, that he did not want you to wait until he figured his shit out.
Charlotte had warned you that Marcus was supposed to be attending her party that day too, and your heart already was hurting only thinking about seeing him again, without being able to actually be with him. 
You just hoped that he would figure his issues out, because you could not keep living like this.
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The taxi was driving through the busy city. 
Charlotte had asked you to make some cupcakes, so the taxi was taking you to your bakery where Charlotte’s husband Eddie would be waiting for you to help transport the cupcakes back to her place for the party. 
You could have just taken them to her yesterday, but she insisted she wanted them today. 
Paying the taxi driver you grabbed your purse and took a look around, trying to check if Eddie was there already, but all you found was a black town car with a driver waiting in front of it. Shrugging to yourself, you searched for your keys, making your way to the entrance of your bakery when you heard your name behind you.
Turning around you found the driver, an older looking man smiling at you, asking your name again.
„Uh, yeah?“ You answered confused. 
„Hello, I am Andrew. I am instructed to take you to your surprise,“ he said. 
„Which surprise?“ You asked. 
„I do not know. I only know I should take you there,“ he answered. 
„Who told you to take me there?“
„Marcus Pike.“
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Before you got into the car you tried to call Marcus, but he did not pick up the phone. Then you tried to call Charlotte who only told you that she knew about a surprise, but she didn’t know what it was about. 
Still hesitant you sat in the backseat of the car, the radio quietly playing while the landscape flew by. 
After a while you had an of idea where you were going. 
One of your last dates with Marcus was spent house hunting. You had been searching for a while but could not find something you both liked immediately. You did however find a piece of land that you both fell in love with. It was overlooking the whole city while still not being to far out to commute to work every day, which you and Marcus could do together since you worked only two streets apart.
But before you could have made any further decisions, Marcus had asked for this… break. You were getting more nervous the more familiar your surroundings became, until the car stopped and you turned your head to look to the side, a sea of candles illuminating the night. 
The car door opened and Andrew gave you a warm smile. 
„I’ll wait here if you’ll need me,“ he said before he helped you out and walked back to the drivers side to get back into the car. 
You took a deep breath, before you slowly rounded the car and walked towards where you could already make out Marcus waiting for you, surrounded by what must be hundreds, if not thousands of candles. 
You were suddenly glad you had decided to wear your winter coat.
As if this whole set up wasn’t overwhelming enough, it was the first time you saw Marcus since the beginning of November. 
He was waiting for you in the middle of this set up, a soft smile on his completely shaven face. Nervously you sucked your bottom lip in, walking towards him, while you looked around, seeing that these candles seemed to make up a shape. Of what, you were not sure. 
„Hi,“ you heard Marcus say as you stopped in front of him. 
„Hey,“ you whispered. 
„You look… you look beautiful,“ he smiled, his hand reaching out to touch you, but stopping himself halfway through. You took a step closer, taking his hand and he sighed. 
„You shaved,“ you said and he smiled. 
„Yeah. I think I shaved my midlife crisis right off with the beard,“ he huffed nervously, his brown eyes set on you. He squeezed your hand. 
„I owe you an explanation. And the biggest apology of my life,“ he sighed, shaking his head to himself. He took your other hand before he looked at you. 
„Yeah. What happened? Was it something I did? I…“ you began but he shook his head. 
„Remember the undercover mission I had been on for a couple weeks in May?“ He asked. You nodded. 
„I ran into my ex wife.“
„Oh,“ you whispered. He took a deep breath. 
„And I let her fuck with my head. And then I ran into Theresa and I couldn’t talk to you, because of the Undercover thing and it left me with my stupid thoughts for two weeks up to the point where I was certain that something must be wrong with me and that you deserve so much better,“ he said.
„Marcus…“ you mumbled, shaking your head. 
„I know,“ he smiled sadly, „And instead of finally talking to you when I was back I pushed you away. You, the person I want to grow old with. I love you. So much. It’s…,“ he took a deep breath. 
„Charlotte told me how miserable you were. She also told me what an idiot I am. My therapist too,“ Marcus continued. 
„Therapist?“ You asked. 
He nodded. 
„Yeah. I wanted to find out what was wrong with me,“ he shrugged.
„There’s nothing wrong with you, baby. You’re just…“ you were looking for the right word. 
„An idiot?“ He offered. You smiled.
„Yeah. But you’re still my idiot,“ you said softly and he released a deep breath. 
„I’m so, so fucking sorry what I put you through these last months. If I could erase these last months, I would.“
You looked at him, your Marcus. There would be more talking about this in the future. Yes, these last months were hell, but he was here, right now. He loved you and you loved him. That was enough for the moment. 
You got on your tiptoes, your arms wrapping around Marcus and kissed him. He stumbled back surprised before his arms pulled you against him and he deepened the kiss. 
„I missed you so much. I’ll kill you if you ever hurt me like that again,“ you mumbled against his lips. 
„Never,“ he vowed, rubbing his nose over yours. 
„So… what is all this?“ You asked, looking up at him. 
„This… This could be our dream house,“ he said. He pulled away from you, taking your hand and started walking. 
„Right now, we could be standing in our living room. Fireplace right there, biggest couch we can find right here,“ he gestured. You smiled, following him. Now you could see the candles on the ground made out lines of different rooms.
„This,“ he lead you forward along the line, „could be the kitchen. Got you that big island you always wanted so you can have enough space to bake too,“ he winked and you grinned. 
„What’s on the other levels?“ You asked. He turned and pulled you in his arms. 
„Bathroom, Office, Guest Bedroom, Bedroom with walk in closet….“
„What about a nursery?“ You asked and he smiled shyly. 
„We can fit one in there too, I think,“ he mumbled and kissed you. 
„Two,“ you said and he nodded. 
„I gotta say, this is all very romantic but last time I checked we don’t own this piece of land.“
He hummed.
„When did you last check?“ He asked, a smile sneaking to his lips. 
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. 
„I signed the papers this morning. It’s yours,“ he said and your mouth dropped open in shock. 
„What?“ You gasped out. 
„I bought it. For you. For us, if you want. I just… I want to make you happy. I…“ you stopped him with your lips on his mouth. 
„You’re insane,“ you chuckled.
„Now you notice?“ He joked and you shook your head with a grin, letting your head rest against his chest when you heard the first firework go off, the sky glittering in pink lights. 
„What time is it?“ You asked and he looked at his watch. 
„Almost midnight,“ he whispered. 
You both looked up at the sky, more and more fireworks lighting up the sky. 
„I want to spend every single day of my life loving you. I wanna be your last first kiss. I wanna be the best version of myself for you,“ he whispered against your ear. You blinked the tears away, cuddling closer against him. 
„I love you,“ you mumbled against him. 
„Happy new year,“ he whispered, kissing your hair. You looked up at him, the man you loved.
„Happy new year.“
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allmahfeels · 4 months
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Pedro Boys Watching GBBO
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Just some headcanons of the Pedro Boys watching Great British Bake Off with you! Not explicit, just verry fluffy.
Marcus Pike
Absolutely loves the show, it's his favorite time of week! Marcus looks forward to watching Bake Off with you, curled on the couch, more often than not with a sweet treat (that if he had time to) is made by him or from your favorite bakery.
He gets emotionally attached to all of the contestants and gets teary at the end of every episode. He also likes to keep up with former contestants on social media (“Honey, did you see Manon from season 9 is having another baby? So happy for her!). And of course his idea (and yours) of a perfect Sunday is trying to recreate some of the desserts from the show.
Joel Miller
At first he wasn’t really interested. But then one rainy day you decided to marathon a past season, and Joel would occasionally stop what he was doing to comment here and there but ultimately go back to his chores around the house. Eventually, he stops to sit next to you on the couch, his interest piqued at the Showstopper Challenge, “How on earth is he gonna build a structure that tall? Honey, are you sure it’s just cake in there?” Before you know it he’s joining you every week when the new season starts, “Baby look, she’s getting the Hollywood handshake! She deserves it, no way in hell I coulda got a spiral in my Swiss Roll like that, that’s for damn sure!”
Dieter Bravo
It’s his favorite show. He likes to watch it in bed, with you on his lap, high as a kite. The music and soft colors calm him in a way not much else can. He does tend to get emotional if a baker’s dessert doesn’t end up how they wanted, but then you just take a break and fool around until he’s feeling better.
Frankie Morales
Just like Joel, he doesn’t set out to watch it at first but gradually gets sucked in because of the craftsmanship element. Before long he’s reminding YOU when it’s on, “Baby we can’t go out tonight, new Bake Off, remember? It’s biscuit week!” One day Santi comes over to borrow a tool and when he sees what Frankie’s watching he laughs but Frankie just shakes his head and dares him to watch an episode and not get hooked. It took exactly ten minutes before Santi was yelling at the TV: “I’ve never heard of a sfogliatelle in my life but even I know that turned out bad!” Soon the rest of the boys find out and while just like Santi they laugh at first, Frankie challenges them to watch one episode and get back to him. Needless to say your living room is a little more crowded when the next new episode is on.
Javi G
Javi loves it because YOU love it. And that’s why for your birthday he flew in Paul and Prue to have dinner with you both. 
My Masterlist
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senorabond · 4 months
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Rumor Has It: Chapter 5 Peña x f!reader x Pike
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Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike
Chapter 5 Summary: Peña has done more than you expected by making you the Customs Agent in Charge, and you’re already starting to feel the pressure. While preparing to give your first official brief, you reach out once again to Marcus for reassurance. The call leads you down memory lane to the last conversation you had with Marcus face to face.
Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters
Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), drinking (pity party of 1 - your wine is ready), flashback, semi-public/workplace sex (evidence locker after hours), unprotected p-in-v (stay safe, folks), probably talking about cum way too much?, Dom/sub dynamic, soft Dom!Marcus, praise kink, you are such a good girl, cockwarming, aftercare, denying all the feels, ohh the yearning
Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.
Words: 4.6k
Author’s Note: This chapter contains the final installment of the Last Night in D.C. Flashback, as I’ve dubbed it in my head. It was certainly a challenge, and I’m oddly proud that I actually made myself cry a little while writing it! I plan on posting the entire D.C. flashback while I’m working on the next chapter if you’d like to read it in its entirety. I’m excited at where we are in the story, because the events in this chapter will make a lot more room for Javi to work his magic.
All the smooches and hugs to @kilamonster who puts the B, E, T, and A (*giggity*) in BEAUTIFUL - thank you, lovey! 
Masterlist || Previous Chapter
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Texas Present
A copy of the assignment paperwork shows up on your desk the next morning. Next to your name states your role in the case: CBP Agent in Charge. 
Peña did more than make good on his word to keep you involved. You’d told him you didn’t want to be just another liaison or consultant, but you weren’t expecting this. It doesn’t feel right, truth be told. You wanted this level of involvement in a case, but only by earning it on your own merit – not because your connection at the FBI panned out. 
Your conversation with Marcus the previous day still lingers in your mind as you try to get some work done. It was good to hear his voice again so soon. Great, actually. You admit that you missed the sound of his smile when he spoke and his reassuring tones. He actually listened to what you said and remembered things you told him. Marcus was going to make somebody very lucky one day, and they had better deserve him. 
Marcus had been gracious when you fessed up and told him that Peña wanted you to use your connection to the art squad to help with the case. 
“I know how bureaucracy really works,” he’d said. He was surprised to hear that Peña had already tried calling, and you offered to ask Peña who he’d spoken to in their office. 
You stare blankly at the paperwork in your hand. You’re officially attached to the case now, but it’s still squarely in the DEA’s jurisdiction for now, which means the ball is in Peña’s court. The man is always so busy, you could be waiting a week if you don’t put yourself in his path. Smoothing your skirt, you decide to walk by Peña’s office to see if he’s free to talk. 
The butterflies in your stomach wilt a bit when you see the door closed. The blinds on his office windows are parted, and through the slats you observe Peña leaning back in his leather office chair, holding the phone receiver against his shoulder. Held at that angle, his neck is elongated and you notice the tight cords of tendon and muscle flex as he speaks. 
You pause a moment, wondering if you should pass by and continue to the breakroom for coffee, or head back to your desk. Before you can decide, Peña spots you and sits up in his chair. He beckons you forward, and you approach his door. The butterflies return as you turn the knob and walk in just as he’s hanging up his phone.
“I see you got your copy of the detail agreement.” He nods at your hand, where you’re grasping the paperwork.
“Yeah, I did.” You take a breath. “Thanks for that.”
“You earned it.”
Choosing to ignore his platitude, you direct the conversation to figuring out your first tasks. 
“When do I start?” You notice the chair in front of his desk is still empty from your last visit, so you sit without being invited. As you cross your legs, the sheer material of your stockings makes your legs glide together smoothly. 
“Right away, if you can. We’ll have our first team briefing Monday morning.” Javier adjusts his tie and clears his throat. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you catch his eyes taking in your movements while you smooth the fabric and tug the hem of your skirt down to a demure length. Javi must be a leg guy.
“I want you to present your strategy to the team,” he adds, eyes cutting up to meet yours and catching you off guard.
“My ‘strategy?’” It takes you a moment to register what Javier means. “You mean my idea that we talked about at the bar the other night? I wouldn’t exactly call that a strategy.” 
“You’ll need to flesh it out a bit more, of course. Prepare for questions.” Javier props his elbows on his desk and leans over, his voice softens slightly. “Can you do that for me?”
His question – the sincerity in his tone, the earnestness in his face – makes you want his approval, makes you want to please him. Nodding, you say, “Of course. I’ll get started right away.” 
He smiles appreciatively. “I’m looking forward to it.” You stand up to go, and he adds distractedly, “That’s why I made you the Customs AIC.”
“What?” You look back at him, stopping in the doorway.
“Your strategy. It’s what’s going to make this case successful.” You’re intrigued by this shift in Javi. He’s different: more open and forthcoming, generous with his time, giving you a peek at a softer side of him you couldn’t have known existed.
“I was doubtful at first,” he concedes. One of his large hands smooths his mustache and he smiles wryly. “But somebody reminded me that I don’t know shit about art.”
You flush a bit, remembering how forceful you’d been with him at the bar. That kind of assertiveness was new to you, but the case you worked with Marcus had helped you build up your professional confidence. 
Drawing yourself up a bit taller, you smile back at him. “Well, that person sounds very smart. I’m glad you listened to them.” 
Javi smirks and relaxes back into his chair, bridging his fingers together contemplatively. As you turn to leave, you hear him say, “Me too.”
~~~
Now that you know the reason Peña made you the Customs Agent in Charge of the case was because of your idea and not just your connection to the FBI, you feel an even stronger drive to excel. You know you tend to be unrealistically hard on yourself, but you justify this impulsive need to not just succeed, but to exceed all expectations, with the fact that a positive result in this case could get you the promotion you’d been gunning for back in D.C. 
Marcus was always good at grounding you when you went a little too far and started spiraling. He understood that the standards were different for female agents. He witnessed the endless patriarchal bullshit you and the other female agents had to put up with on a daily basis, and did his best to be an ally from within the institutional boys’ club of federal law enforcement. 
Marcus had a knack for knowing when to say something to pull you out of a spiral, and when you needed to push yourself through it. He was never condescending nor patronizing, but his natural empathy made you feel seen, heard, and valid.
Making a solid first impression with the rest of the agents on the case will be paramount to getting everyone on board with the strategy. Thankfully Peña is on your side, but you don’t want the others to go along with it just because he tells them to. You want to instill them all individually with confidence in your idea.
You’ve already been at this most of the day. For comfort, you decided to move from the small dinette table in your kitchen to your bed, where an open bottle of red wine now sits on your nightstand. 
You’ve gotten stuck trying to poke holes in your strategy, identify the risks and vulnerabilities to prepare for any hard-hitting questions. It’s hard to see things from an outside perspective. Sighing, you reach over and pick up the glass of wine sitting next to your phone. You could really use a partner right now to help prepare this briefing. 
Your eyes go back to your phone, and you consider calling Marcus. It’s a Saturday, and he might have plans, or could just be enjoying some quiet time outside of work. You decide to send him a text first, just in case. 
After agonizing for several minutes over what to say, you decide to send a simple: Can you talk?
Blowing out your cheeks with a big exhale, you turn back to your presentation. A few minutes later your phone dings and you rush to grab it.
Sure, let me get somewhere quiet. 
You let out a groan and feel bad that you’re obviously pulling him away from something, but you’re feeling pretty desperate. Resolved to make it a quick conversation, you’re poring over your notes and then jump when your phone rings. 
You answer immediately, imbuing an apologetic tone to your voice, “Marcus, hey, I’m so sorry–”
“It’s Javier.” 
You blink, too stunned to respond. Glancing at your phone’s screen, you see the call had not actually come from Marcus as you’d assumed.
“Who’s Marcus?” His tone had turned teasing and you hear the clink of ice in a glass. “You standing some poor guy up?” 
You recover enough to stammer, “Uh, no. No, he’s just a friend.” You don’t know why you felt the need to give Javi an explanation. 
“Mm, okay.” He exhales slowly, and you think he must be smoking a cigarette with his whiskey. “Whatever you say, cariño.” His voice is a soft purr from deep in his chest. 
You’re suddenly very aware that you’ve never spoken with Javi on the phone outside of work, and it feels strange – not in a bad way, he has a nice voice. But you do feel off kilter, and a touch of vulnerability makes you stomach flip. 
“So…” You pause, not sure what to say without sounding rude. “What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you, actually.”
Wrapping your sweater more tightly across your chest, you wonder if your nipples are pebbling from a chill in the room or the idea of Javi helping you with something. You really need to get laid; you can’t focus on this case this tightly wound.
“Like what?” You take another sip of wine and wonder what the whiskey in Javi’s glass tastes like, and if the tobacco you smelled on him the other night in the bar is what he’s smoking now. 
“The briefing on Monday – that’s a lot for one person to manage, especially one who doesn’t have any resources assigned yet.” 
Resources. That means an actual team, with actual funding. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. That drive to impress and succeed can make you do stupid things, like take on way too much for one person, and set yourself up for failure. You’re starting to feel that sense of overwhelm that happens when you feel like you’ve taken on too much but force yourself to rein it in. 
Needing help is not a weakness. Asking for help is a strength. Accepting help when offered, especially from somebody like Javi, is the right thing to do.
Swallowing your pride, you say, “Yeah, that’s actually what I’m working on right now. It is a lot. What kind of help did you have in mind?” 
Ice clinks in his glass again and you can almost picture him licking the cool, golden drops from his mustache.
“How about I meet you tomorrow to go over what you’ve got so far, and we can go from there?” 
“Meet me – you mean at the office?” 
“Or your place, wherever you’d be most comfortable.” His tone is purely professional, it doesn’t sound like he’s feeding you a line. But the idea of Javier Peña being inside your apartment fills you with something akin to panic.
“The office is good,” you rush to answer. 
Javi’s chuckle is low and breathy. “Whatever you want, cariño.”
You agree on a time to meet the next day and hang up, just in time for your phone to start ringing again a moment later. Downing the rest of your wine glass, you answer with a choked, “Hello?”
“Hey, sorry, it took me forever to find a quiet spot to call – you okay?” Marcus is raising his voice slightly to hear himself over the music and conversation in the background.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine – sorry to bother you right now, I can tell you’re busy.” Setting the empty wine glass down next to the bottle, you begin to feel flushed and flap your sweater to cool off.
“It’s okay, just a work thing for, uh… for my girlfriend.” 
Your bed disappears from beneath you as your stomach drops. The dregs of the wine burn a trail down your throat. 
“Oh,” you manage.
“She’s a lawyer, just won a big case.” He continues. There’s an edge to his voice you can’t place, which makes you uncomfortable. You used to know his voice better.
“That’s awesome!” There’s a little too much enthusiasm in your response, and you try to dial it back a bit. “That’s so great. Good for her. I should let you get back to her, then.”
“Well, uh. What did you want to talk about?” Oh. Right. You’d asked if he could talk. 
“Oh, god, it’s stupid, I’m really sorry. I’m briefing my strategy at the kickoff on Monday…” 
“That’s great!” Marcus’ voice is filled with genuine warmth and excitement and you can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, except I’m shitting myself over here,” you try to chuckle. “I know these DEA guys are going to grill me and I want to have an answer to every question.” 
“You’re going to blow them away, I know it.” His words make you smile a bit. Marcus has always had unwavering confidence in you.
“Thanks, Marcus.” You try and fail to mask the tinge of defeat in your voice as you pour another large glass of wine. It’s your pity party, and you’ll drink if you want to. 
“Listen, how about I–” He’s cut off by a woman calling his name in the distance. That must be the successful lawyer girlfriend. She probably looks like Heidi Klum.
“I better let you go, I’ve already taken up enough of your time.” The words rush from your mouth. “Thanks again for calling – oh, and congrats to your girlfriend.” 
“Oh, okay. Well, if you need anything…”
“For sure.” Your false air of confidence is transparent. “Thanks, Marcus. Goodnight.” You hang up a little too quickly and take a hefty gulp of wine. 
Marcus has a girlfriend. Of course he has a girlfriend, he’s a total 10. If you’d just been able to get your head out of your ass back in D.C. – no, you won’t let yourself go down that road; not tonight. You’ve got way too much to do before you meet with Javi.
Work is a welcome distraction now, and you find yourself laser focused. By the time the glass of wine is done, your mind is too tired and fuzzy to be productive. You decide to pack it in for the night and get started again bright and early so you’ll have something halfway decent to bring to the office. 
You brush your teeth, down a full glass of water, and climb into bed with your wine-soaked brain swimming with thoughts of the two phone calls you experienced this evening. Javi’s call may have been totally unexpected, and you are resolved not to read too much into it, but Marcus’ led your mind back down memory lane to your last face-to-face conversation. You fall asleep thinking of how things might have been a bit different if you’d only been brave enough to stay.
~~~
Washington, D.C. 6 Months Ago
“Good girl,” he rasps. “My good fucking girl.” He kisses your forehead and temple, then presses his lips in a trail down to the crook in your neck where he rests and catches his breath. 
“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper breathlessly. 
“I should be the one thanking you,” Marcus says softly into your hair. “You did so well for me.” As you begin to regain the strength in your legs, he runs a hand across your cheek and cups it, kissing you gently. His other hand trails featherlight touches across your breasts, then tweaks a nipple making you gasp. 
“Do you still want my cum?” This makes you clench around him with a moan, and he smiles. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 
Slowly, he pulls out of you with a small groan, making sure you’re steady enough on your feet before letting go of your waist. 
He removes his shirt entirely and reaches for the chair nearby where his coat and tie are draped across the back. Laying his shirt on the seat, he sits and opens his arms, beckoning you. Walking forward, you step between his parted knees, looking hungrily at his shiny, slick-coated cock. 
You want him in your mouth. You want to clean your cum from his cock and feel his hardness slide against your tongue until it hits the back of your throat. Saliva is already pooling in your mouth at the thought. But you know you have to ask permission first. 
“Sir, can I please suck your cock?” Marcus lets out a hungry groan and you lick your lips when his cock twitches in response. You start to go down on your knees when Marcus stops you. 
“Sweetheart, I would love to feel your mouth, especially now. But I can’t let you kneel on this hard floor. My good girl doesn’t deserve that.” He takes your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly.
“Besides,” he cradles your cheeks until you meet his eyes, “I want you riding my cock so I can watch your face when I finally fill you with my cum.” Smiling, you straddle his lap obediently, eager to have him back inside you, however you can have him. 
Marcus holds his cock to line it up at your entrance once again. Audible sighs pass both your lips as you begin to lower yourself down onto him. Marcus hisses between his teeth from the heightened sensitivity of being so hard, still so close to his own finish. 
“God, yes,” Marcus whispers when he’s fully sheathed inside you. “This isn’t going to take long, baby.” 
An electric sort of thrill fills you at how close Marcus is, his orgasm now in your hands. Rocking your hips experimentally, you search to find the best way to move together on the chair. Hands on his shoulders to steady your movements, you begin moving up and down on his cock, your arousal making the glide easy. 
“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Marcus urges you on with unceasing praise, kisses your breasts and clavicle and moans against your neck. Leaning back, he looks up at you. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look incredible riding me. You’ve got this, keep going. Good girl.” 
Emboldened, you find your rhythm, and delight in the words and noises coming from Marcus’ mouth. Tilting your hips one way on the upstroke, and rolling them on the way back down, Marcus’ breath comes out in pants and grunts each time you bottom out on his dick. You watch Marcus watching you, head tilted back to look up at your face, eyes bright and shining. “Beautiful,” he whispers, as though to himself. “So beautiful, so good… So fucking perfect.”
He grabs your ass, a cheek in each hand, to support your rise and fall. Furrowing his brow, he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. He’s getting close, trying to reach that peak. On the next downstroke you press yourself to him, grinding your hips into his pelvis and he lets out a guttural noise. 
Marcus pulls you down into a passionate kiss and you moan into each other’s mouths as he ruts up again. The chair begins to creak beneath your combined weight and vigor, but you’re both too far gone to take any notice. This combination of depth and pressure is getting you perilously close to your own climax, but you desperately want him to finish with you this time.
“Please. Sir,” you gasp. “Please, I need it.”
“I’m gonna give you my cum, baby. So close. Don’t stop.” Marcus has an arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place as he fucks up into you, his grip nearly bruising on your hip. Running his other hand up to cup the side of your face, fingers twining into your hair. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face. Fuck–” he grunts, so close. “Eyes on me… Good girl.”
Gazes locked, mouths agape, you and Marcus inch closer to that razor’s edge together. The building pressure is almost too much and you struggle to keep your eyes open against its blinding power. You need him to fill your already soaked cunt. 
“Marcus, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum – Marcus-” 
A strangled cry that sounds like your name tumbles from Marcus’ mouth as he erupts, the swell and jerk of his cock being the final push you need. He’s holding you so tightly, crushing his mouth against yours as you ride out your pleasure together. Each spasm pulls your bodies together, like waves crashing over rocks, drowned out only by your blended moans. 
Panting to catch your breath, Marcus sprinkles feather-light kisses along your brow, beaded with sweat from exertion. As you slowly come down, you begin to shiver a bit – probably from both the adrenaline and the cool, dry air of the room. Marcus rubs his hands against your arms and back and pulls you close for warmth. 
“Good girl, I’ve got you.” He reaches behind him to pull his suit jacket off the back of the chair and drapes it over your shoulders. Perhaps it’s the intensity of the physical sensations, the comedown from such a high, or something else, but tears start to prick at the backs of your eyes. 
You’ve never experienced this amount of passion and sensuality with any other person in your life. Marcus is more than just a sex partner, he’s your lover. He’s also a friend, and a rare one at that. 
Aftercare is so important to Marcus, he never lets you rush or skip it. He sits there patiently as you recover and ride out the aftershocks, huddled against him with his cock still inside you. Marcus strokes your back and kisses your temple, whispering things too quietly to hear over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Breathing in tandem, you feel both your heart rates begin to co-regulate and beat together.
Eventually, and only when you feel ready, you begin to get up off his lap. 
“Good girl, nice and easy.” Marcus is a sight to behold, sitting there. His lap is soaked, his chest and neck damp with sweat, hair delightfully mussed. 
Marcus hands you your panties and you slip them on before his cum, infused with your own, can leak too much and make a bigger mess. 
Slowly, naturally, the electricity in the air begins to diffuse and a comfortable quiet takes its place. The two of you redress and straighten the evidence room, finding plenty of opportunities to smile, touch, and help each other. You even share a couple of laughs at the wet spot on Marcus’ shirt. 
“At least it’ll be under your jacket,” you offer, trying to smooth out the deep wrinkles in your skirt a bit more.
“Yeah, I’ll just have to figure out a way to explain it to my dry cleaner.” Marcus grins, revealing his dimple.
Marcus insists on walking you to your car and carrying the box of stuff you’d packed. He laughs at the sheer amount of office supplies you’d thrown in before leaving for the parking garage.
“I’m loving the silent protest, but do you really need three staplers?” 
“The patriarchy has a lot of paperwork,” you shrug innocently and press the unlock button on your key fob. 
Marcus secures your loot in the backseat and turns to face you before you get in and drive away. His shoulders have noticeably slumped and there’s a sad half-smile on his face. You step into his open arms and he envelopes you in a warm embrace, kissing the top of your head. The prickles have come back to your eyes and you burrow into his shoulder and neck even deeper, trying to memorize his scent.
He mumbles something, but you can’t hear him, just feel the rumble in his chest. You pull back without unlocking your arms from his torso, “What did you say?”
“I said ‘I’m going to miss you,’” Marcus repeats, tucking an errant lock of hair behind your ear. His face goes blurry and you quickly blink back the tears threatening to form. 
“I’m going to miss you too, Marcus.” 
He leans down to kiss you, but you shy away and look around nervously out of habit. Marcus grabs your face and plants his lips on yours, kissing you with determination. You sink into him with a sigh, and he deepens the kiss, caressing your tongue with his own. The kiss builds until you both have to break away for breath. 
You get a naughty idea and bite your lip, glancing around. “Hang on, I want to give you something. Keep an eye out.” Hidden from view by your open car door and Marcus’ tall form, you discreetly pull your panties off from under your skirt and tuck them into the pocket of his suit jacket. 
“A memento,” you say with a wink and he kisses you again.
“It’ll keep me warm on cold nights,” he teases, with a cheeky lift of his brow. 
 The somber mood returns, and the two of you stand there quietly again, neither of you ready to say goodbye just yet. 
Finally, Marcus takes a big breath and speaks. “I…” he falters, and has to clear his throat. “I don’t know if I’m going to get another chance to say this, and I’m going to regret it forever if I let you leave without saying anything.” 
His words come out quickly, but his voice is thick with emotion. 
“You shouldn’t go. I mean, I don’t want you to go. You won’t talk about why you’re leaving, but I get it – I do, even if you think I don’t.” You have to look away, and swipe harshly at the tears beginning to spill over. 
Marcus gently cups your face and thumbs away one tear, kisses another off your cheek. Your throat constricts, and you can’t find the words you’d say to stop him if you could. He keeps speaking, every word breaking your heart a little bit more. 
“I really think that there's something special here, with us, and I–” His voice breaks, and you see emotion swimming in his eyes. You cover his hand with yours, and turn your face into his palm, placing a kiss there. 
Tears are falling freely from your eyes now, and there’s a deep, aching part of you that needs to hear what he has to say, even if it kills you. 
“I care about you. Very much.” He meets your eyes as he says this. “I don’t expect you to feel the same–” 
Rising up on your toes, you quickly seal his lips with a bruising kiss. You and Marcus cling to each other in a crushing embrace. 
“Please,” you say against his lips, kissing him again. “Please, don’t–,” another kiss. A sob breaks loose from your throat. “I can’t–”
“I know,” Marcus whispers, ghosting his lips across your cheek, temple, forehead.
“I have to go.”
“I know,” he presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”
Pulling back, you can’t tell if the wetness shining on Marcus’ cheeks is from your tears, or his own. His arms remain locked around you, holding you to him.
“I have to go,” you repeat in a hushed tone. Marcus nods and presses his lips to your forehead one last time. 
“Goodbye, Marcus.” Without looking at his face again, you turn away, breaking free of his warmth.
You manage to get in your car and drive a full block before you finally break down.
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Next Chapter || SeñoraBond's Masterlist
Additional Author’s Note: I am so thrilled at all the folks who have liked this story and that I get to thot thotfully with you fine folks. Thank you so much to those who have commented, reblogged, and recc’d my fic! I don’t think this has gotten enough traction to warrant a taglist, but I’m more than happy to tag anybody going forward as I post subsequent chapters! Just send me a DM. 
As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜
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wannab-urs · 7 months
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The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 17
Hello darlings!
It was another big week - 24 fics! I should really start sleeping at night instead of reading until 3 am.... oh well. Enjoy the fruits of my sleep disorder!
You can find the Spreadsheet in all it's organizational glory here and all of my previous recommendations here.
Recommendations below the pedro meme (created by @gasolinerainbowpuddles)
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Ravish -a Joel series by @psychedelic-ink
I've read a few like... cam girl/chat service/sex work type AUs and I have to say this is one of my favorites. I really really love the little Dieter cameos. And a little birdie (the literal author) told me he may be making an appearance in a future installment??? I am so excited ugh. Joel is like... stunningly hot in this despite being the kind of guy that falls in love with a cam girl. Yummy yummy
Seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom) -a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush
A fun twist on the bathroom quickie trope. Frankie is so filthy in this fic and it is fantastic. I really like the ending also. Made me giggle
A Savage Place - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
SUB JOEL MY BELOVED!!! This is one of those more realistic sub joels where he's confused as fuck about liking it, but he really clearly needs someone to take control for a little while. I really fucking love this so much. (there's pegging in part 2 @ my pegging enthusiasts <3 ) Reader is hot as hell, also. GOD I love this.
Whistle in the Dark - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Romantic cucking <3 No but okay the like basic plot is that your husband is a piece of shit who cheats on you so you like forcibly cuck him with Joel and Joel has feelings and it's sooooo hot and so good and like... affirming? and sweet? And your husband deserves to have his dick cut off bc he does something real fucked up, but having to watch Joel Miller dick his wife down GOOD is a start.
He hurt me but it felt like true love - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie
Mean sexy Joel is pissy cause he found your dildo and he's gonna make that your problem. It's so hot. Vaginal DP????? GOD DAMN. Someone said DP isn't depraved a while back (eyeroll). They should read this. This is beautifully depraved
Feral Woman - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
This series has me feeling so many emotions. Watching FW/reader/Julia/Bug heal over time and learn to trust again is so fucking good. Susan is the light of my motherfuckin life I love that woman with all my heart. This series is GORGEOUS
Endless Night - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
yes i basically worked my way through Puddles' masterlist can you fucking blame me look at this shit. Anyway. EnNi reader/OC is, on the surface, the sunshine to Joel's grump. But the thing I love about her is that she's got this underlying darkness that adds so much depth to the grumpy x sunshine trope. I'm also eating up the borderline enemies to lovers dynamic going on here. Joel is such a dick lmao. I'm so excited for the rest of this fic.
All the good girls go to hell - an Ezra one shot by @psychedelic-ink
DUBCON with PRIEST EZRA yesssssss. The Haunted Hoedown is the gift that keeps on giving. This fic is so fucking HOT. Ezra as a priest seems so wrong and so right at the same time. This is excellent. I'd gladly go to hell for this man UNF.
Three's a crowd - a Marcus P/Javi P one shot by @agentmarcuspike
Marcus motherfuckin cute ass baby Pike watches Javier Peña fuck you. Yeah. Cucking Marcus Pike. That's what this is. Marcus is also characterized perfectly. Like this is so fucking cute actually. And it's really hot. obviously.
Begging for you to take my hand - a Joel series by @jupiter-soups
This fic is driving me up the wall in the best way. Joel is a big dumb idiot man who is like... not emotionally intelligent enough to realize he's in the wrong while trying to do what he perceives to be the "right thing." Here's what I commented verbatim on part 2 "Joel 'You Deserve Better Than Me' Miller back on his bullshit. I love this so much. Joel is so sad and so stupid i kinda wanna hit him." So if you're like me and you like to watch Joel be a sad little idiot who is also super hot.... this is the one
Refuge - a Joel series by @cool-iguana
GAH THIS IS SO GOOD!!! This fic really situates you in reader's head. Like you feel disoriented and frustrated and scared when she does and you feel like a powerful badass when she does and it's SO good. Basically in this one your husband joel shows up with some kid who is def not your kid in Jackson after you've been there for a hot minute and it's a big wtf moment. There's some other shit going on that I don't wanna spoil but like... this is so good. I know I keep saying that but GOT DAMN
Exposed - a Javi P one shot by @atticrissfinch
big fat dub con warning on this one. I so rarely see Javi written as a creep and I really fucking enjoyed it. I would like to humbly request more creep!professor!javi p
The Apprentice - a Dave York one shot by @pedropascalsx
This has like mafia!au vibes while not really being that, but what I mean by that is that the big bad murder daddy who you thought you'd be scared of saves you from murder father (ur dad). I really liked the characterization of Dave in this and the smut was HOT
Stockings - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch
Daddy kink daddy kink daddy kink. This is inspired by a photo that literally looks like denim shirt joel is helping you put your stockings on. This fic manages to be adorable and aggressively hot at the same time. I am in love.
Slumber - a Joel one shot by @cool-iguana
I love a good somno fic. also this is literally their 2nd fic they ever wrote and it's so good?! TALENT. There was a thing in this that caught me off guard bc I fully did not read the warnings, but I was not at all mad about it... HOT
Yearling - a Joel series by @justagalwhowrites
Holy motherfuckin shit balls dude. I'm noticing that I'm reading a lot of Reader-Who-Is-Extremely-Traumatized fics this week and I refuse to examine why that is but also they all have handled the heavy content very very well. Anyway. Reader is super duper good with horses and Joel is so soft and Ellie is so Ellie and I love all of this. I really love the way Kit builds the world in her fics. Like the opening chapter and then the way Bambi's back story is built up and the spaces that she exists in, they're all so vivid and good and real to me. I'm so fucking in love with the way Kit includes these details like reader singing and playing music, joel's coat, the light on in the house when Bambi is gone. It feels like nothing is there just to be there, like it's all important and it has a significant impact on the story and man... (also if you're worried about starting a longfic that's not finished, it updates like twice a fuckin week. Fast writer lol).
The Cabin in the Woods- a Dave York one shot by @xdaddysprincessxx
Getting kidnapped by Dave York and held in his cabin in the woods. Dark dark dark fic and so fucking well written. Love this <3
Isn't She a Doll? - a Dave York one shot by @proxima-writes
You are Dave's perfect little housewife and that is definitely the only thing going on here. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. (just read it)
Who do you call? - a Joel one shot by @chloeangelic
Your hot neighbor Joel helps you get rid of a spider! How sweet of him. Oh and then he rails you on the couch. I really love the way they have a whole conversation while they're fucking about how long it's been since they've fucked anyone. Chloe just has this wonderful way of infusing humor into really really hot fics that I adore
Does your mother know? - a Joel one shot by @cupofjoel
Another bathroom quickie for the rec list and god DAMN this one is hot. Close Family Friend!Joel (god I love putting this man in situations). There's something about being forced to stay quiet that just makes everything hotter.
Cellmate's Nephew!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity
JoJo is actually the love of my life. His tattoos, his voice, his dick print.... sigh. Can't wait to get out prison so this man can rail me on every available surface between the prison and Mabel's house.
The Man That I Love - a Joel series by @lumoverheaven
Joel is an idiot who doesn't know what he has until he almost loses it. The first part is heartwrenching and sad and I love it. The second part is wonderful and makes me tear up a lil
I said I didn't feel nothing, baby, but I lied - a Veracruz one shot by @iamasaddie
Veracruz is so hot. I swear that man could punch me in the face and I'd suck his dick for it (that is not healthy oops). This lovely little drabble is literally just you getting your ass spanked so raw you won't be able to sit for a week and it's HOT AS HELL
Creep - a Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings
Joel Miller is your super hot creepy neighbor and he manages to get you to fuck him and that is definitely the only thing going on here. nothing fishy at all. nope. totally normal reader fucks her creepy neighbor fic. (just fucking trust me and read it ok?)
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Happy Reading!
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epistemophagy · 8 months
Text
Thoughts on Star Trek: Strange New Worlds S2 E9 "Subspace Rhapsody"
Spoilers under the cut.
Chapel/Ortegas
This episode really sold me on Chortegas, on which I was previously neutral. As far as I'm concerned, it's now canon.
"You're not the only one who's gonna miss her" — That was obvious queerbait, but I'll take it. Same with their adoring stares at each other during "I'm Ready".
Chapel/Spock
"Unfortunately we have had another communication failure" — You don't say (!)
I'm glad they're killing this ship off. I think there's a universe where Spapel might have had some appeal to it, but it's not this one.
Jim Kirk/La'an
"Jim? Sounds so serious" — No that's just what La'an sounds like all the time Jim, sorry.
Jim turns La'an down because of Carol, who is pregnant with David, who will get killed on the Genesis Planet about twenty-five years later indirectly owing to actions taken by Khan ... the Marcus and Noonien-Singh families really forming something of a Montagues and Capulets vibe here
Jim Kirk/Spock
I feel like we are definitely starting to see the beginnings of the TOS Kirk&Spock-to-Spirk dynamic taking shape.
Spock & Uhura
"You pick the song, Nyota" — I feel like there are the beginnings of a Spock and Uhura friendship here and I'm happy about it.
Chapel
I have a note here that reads: "Holy shit, Jess Bush's voice is so hot. Holy shit, Jess Bush is hot."
I really enjoyed how they used Chapel as a powerful contralto soloist. We don't hear enough of that, and being forced to actually give material to voice types who aren't already Broadway's favoured children is one of the ways that musical theatre outside the high-end professional theatre context can be superior to musical theatre in it.
Jim Kirk
"Someone who keeps a necessary distance from her crew because she knows she has to make hard decisions" — For better or worse, we know Jim will ignore Una's description of this attitude as a "first mistake" in TOS, given that "keep[ing] a necessary distance" becomes one of Jim's most defining and most isolating behaviours and in the end is arguably the main reason he is never truly happy.
"Show him the ropes. Kirk's full of talent but still has one or two issues to work out before he begins his commission" — As we TOS girlies know, Jim never works them out.
La'an's tip about the aft torpedoes on the K't'inga class will come in useful for Jim thirty-three years later, during Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.
Sam Kirk
I honestly haven't really liked Sam up to this episode, but Dan Jeannotte's ensemble work in "I'm Ready" did a great job of making me like him more.
La'an
Christina Chong did a great job with La'an's part, but she deserved better material. She was buried under the instruments at times, and even as a former pit band director who rightfully sees actors as the lower life forms they are (/j), I think that should have been corrected. Also, vocal portamenti are compositionally risky at the best of times and using them over and over in La'an's solo struck me as a misstep.
Pike
I do love Anson Mount but he was the Pierce-Brosnan-in-Mamma-Mia! of this episode. Oh well. The man has many strengths, I'm not going to expect him to have all of them.
I enjoyed that Pike was visibly not taking La'an's concerns about the musical episode effect being a security risk all that seriously, and then bam, "Private Conversation". Listen to women, Christopher!
Spock
I've distrusted Ethan a little since he said "Charades" was his favourite episode but man, he had the biggest positive performer-versus-material quality ratio in this episode. The material they gave Spock was bad bordering on awful, but Ethan's vocal and dramatic performance absolutely sold it, which is quite the achievement given that Spock is not a particularly expressive character and that particular area of the bass-baritone range — the Caiaphas area, if you will — is not easy to be expressive in.
Other
I love that they can hear the soundtrack in universe. Up until Pike asked "Where is that music coming from?", I assumed everyone was just a cappella in-universe, but no! I love even more that they just don't question it after "not anyone on this ship"
"Perhaps fundamental harmonics are the answer" — Honestly, as a theatre music director, I enjoy the fact that the episode doesn't try to get too deep into music theory. It's not something you can fake convincingly unless you actually get your music supervisor to write the dialogue.
"You're applying old rules to a new reality. I suggest you find a different tempo" — Nope! In this house we have a tempo and l'istesso tempo only!
Whose recording of "Anything Goes" was that?
The grand finale needed better drum mixing. Did they leave a soundfont in by mistake?
Apparently the Klingon part was supposed to be a parody of K-pop (you know, because Klingon begins with a K). You honestly could have fooled me. Satire requires a clarity of purpose etc.
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kayleezra · 9 months
Text
Someone New (Part 2 to Someone Else) // (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)
(not like the fun Hozier song unfortunately)
Word Count: 5,248
Warnings: nada unless you count angst and self-esteem issues 👍
Summary: so… I can’t thank those enough that hyped up the last part and thus encouraged me to write a second one! I truly had no intentions to continue it but then it was so well received I had to! If you’re wondering how I wrote self-esteem issues so well, it’s because I’m self-projecting 😌
AND I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, LIFE IS A B!TCH (there will be a part 3)
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I can be better. I can be whatever they need me to be. People will only stay if I create my worth by being useful. I can be useful. I am useful. I’ll become whatever people need. People deserve what they need, I’ll give that to them no matter the cost. I’ll be what you need me to be.
You want to sleep away from Marcus, you want to be alone, to be allowed the space to process what you’ve just been told. You find some solace on the couch but it isn’t far enough to allow yourself to cry. Marcus will hear, you don’t want him to hear. 
Marcus lies alone, hating himself, not for telling you but for even getting distracted in the first place. Now the bed that’s usually warm and full of love is cold and he can feel your warmth pulling at him from the living room where you lie. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, he gives up.
You can’t sleep, your mind is swirling with things you could have done differently. Should’ve dressed nicer for him, he always said he loved when you dressed down because it was your ‘truest self’ but looking back on it… he was probably bringing attention to it in hopes you’d notice and change it. Been more spontaneous and fun, why stay in and cook for each other when the whole world is just outside your door? You rip apart everything, everything he’s said or done. How long ago did this all start? How far back do you have to be unsure of his words and actions?
The hurricane of thoughts, slamming against the inside of your cranium, comes to an unsettling halt when Marcus enters the doorway. He looks like a mutt hoping to be adopted: scared, guilty and hopeful. And yet… when you see him… your chest tightens and your mind is screaming at you and at him to the point where your thoughts are incomprehensible. 
“I know I don’t deserve… I-. will you please come to bed? I- I can’t sleep when uh- when the bed is just so empty and cold,” he looks at the ground and rubs his neck uncomfortably, “we don't have to cuddle or anything I just-” he scoffs at himself. He can't believe he got up and would ask you this. “You know what, forget I said anything,” he says before turning around. 
You wanted to find solace alone but… you also don’t want to push him further away than he already is. So you get up from the couch and walk to the bedroom, once filled with dreams that you now know will never come true and thus the guilt that comes with it. Marcus is surprised by your appearance and clearly happy but he holds himself back he knows things aren’t the same and he doesn’t have the right to want you close. So he lets you lay in bed next to him with a distance that says ‘divorce parents’. You’re scared this is worse than the physical distance that distanced the two of you into separate rooms. So you move towards him… with a hesitation that says ‘happily married with 2 kids’. You’re scared of losing him and at this point will do anything to keep him so you sleep next to him as though nothing happened. You even bring your arms around him and hold him as if you love him the same, as if he still loves you the same. 
You just have to pretend to be happy and then one day… you’ll believe it. If you just keep pretending that things are fine for you… then they will be. While also improving yourself to ensure Marcus stays interested, of course… but right now you play the part of pretending so that everything’s fine.
Just pretend that Marcus's touch doesn’t feel like betrayal. Just imagine that it’s yesterday and everything you thought you knew is still true. You’re happy and Marcus is happy and the two of you are happy together.
Emotional exhaustion is the only reason that you end up asleep. You didn’t feel tired, but then again a lot has happened in the last few hours that you didn’t see coming. You know you’re mentally and emotionally exhausted because you’re in bed with him. Because you didn’t stand for the one ounce of self-respect you have. You’ve imagined being cheated on and betrayed, how you’d calmly walk out and let their regret and sorrow eat them alive because you deserve better. But here you are, in the bed and arms of a man who just told you he’s interested in someone else.
Marcus doesn’t sleep. You didn’t calmly walk out but the regret and sorrow eats him alive all the same. He deserves it, he knows he does and he hates it, he wishes he wasn’t so stupid as to get distracted and hurt you because now he’s left with nothing but the mess he created. He’s confused, how could he love you and yet so easily get pulled into Teresa’s trap? He never questioned his love for you, you took up all the space in his mind so how was Teresa able to squeeze in? When he thinks back to when he and Teresa first met there’s nothing, just another co-worker. When did it become more? He remembers thinking about you when she spoke about being single, about how happy you made him. Then… he remembers seeing and talking with Teresa and only seeing and thinking about her. When did that happen? How did that happen? How could he let this happen? And yet here you lay next to him. He knows you’re only in his arms because you’re scared he'll leave because that’s basically what he said to you. He’s resurrected the evil voices that taunt your every being, the voices he helped you fight into submission, a battle that took you years. He’s broken every moral code, value and promise he’s ever made to himself and to you. By 3:00 am his grief eats him alive to the point where he can’t fight his exhaustion.
An uneasy anxiety wakes you, the time reads 4:42 am. You feel… different… cold and robotic. Numb. You’ve allowed yourself to take blame and create a solution that you can provide, it’s made you indifferent and detached. You're no longer a loving partner but an actor playing one, acting out the role perfectly but you can only act it perfectly if you don’t let your own emotions get in the way. You think about picture-perfect relationships, often subliminally misogynistic, and use them as your guide. You’ll get up and dressed and make breakfast, a big one, a big ‘I’m sorry’ movie breakfast! Marcus will be happy. You carefully remove Marcus’s arm from you. His touch isn’t warm, it burns your skin and feels like a lie. You breathe better without his arm on you, without him touching you but you don’t allow yourself to enjoy that freedom because you have a job to do. You shower, shave, exfoliate, wear perfume, do your hair and put on a nice not-so-casual outfit before creating an expansive spread for breakfast. You’ve gone about the morning like a stereotypical 1950s housewife, all that’s missing is a husband that won’t appreciate your work. 
It is just as you’re setting everything in place that Marcus appears. You can tell he’s confused like he’s trying to figure out if this is real or a dream. A dream… see you can be his dream if you just try.
“What’s all this?” he asks, confused. And now you feel silly… 
“I- um-…” you’re suddenly nervous and can’t find the right words, the words that don’t scream ‘I’m terrified you’ll leave me so I’ll do and be whatever you want me to’. While fighting to find the words Marcus slowly makes his way to you. You take a deep breath, 
“I just… I wanted to remind us how… good, happy we are together,” you muster out. 
“Oh baby you don’t have to do that, I’m always happy with you, you never have to remind me,” Marcus says solemnly. ‘Then why are you interested in someone else’ your brain says. You nod as though you believe him.
The two of you sit and enjoy your hard work but it’s filled with a heavy and awkward silence. 
“What time did you get up? I mean, you did all this,” Marcus says while gesturing to the food, “and you’re dressed up.”
“It’s nothing, I just couldn’t fall back asleep this morning so…” you shrug, “I got a head start on the day. Plus I figured it’d be nice for you to not have to wake up to what looks like a beached sea creature,” you joke. You smile and laugh at yourself, trying to ensure he doesn’t see how truthful you’re being, how negatively you’re seeing yourself. Marcus puts his cutlery down and looks at you seriously, leaning into the table and giving you his hands to take. You place your hands in his, leaning over the table yourself. 
“You never, never, are anything other than beautiful to me, ever.”‘Then why did she catch your eye?’ “I love seeing you relaxed and happy more than anything, I love it because it's like you’re bearing your soul to me.”‘Then why weren’t my soul and I enough?’
His words burn, they hurt, you’d actually prefer poisoned words or a physical blow because what he’s doing now is so much worse. It’s a reminder of what was, what could’ve been, of what he’s capable of faking. 
You smile and scoff, unable to take in his words completely without crying. He can’t see you cry. You take your hands from his.
“You’re the only one who thinks that Marcus and it might be because you need to see an optometrist. Plus,” you continue to ensure he can’t break down your defences, “I had time and wanted to remind myself how hot I can be.” Another joke, anything but face reality, change the topic, nod and smile, but don’t look in the mirror too long, don’t look at Marcus too long, don’t interpret his words, let everything roll off your back and avoid the actuality. 
Marcus knows what you’re doing, he knows you too well not to and it breaks him to see you put up all your defenses. To have you listen to all the evil little voices in your head, to have you act and the worst part? He knows it’s all because of him. He knows these defences, he encountered them early on in your relationship, and he helped take them down. Now he’s the reason they’re up. You’re creating a version of yourself you believe he’ll like, a version he’ll love, but he truly does love the real you. He loves waking up to your relaxed body, no matter how awkward the position seems or the state of your pyjamas. He loves waking up to see the hairstyle your pillows made you, to see whatever face your face has found itself in even when it leaves you drooling, especially when it leaves you drooling. He loves your morning breath and your slightly cranky and disoriented mood when you first wake. He loves seeing your shoulders be relaxed and your jaw unclenched, even if it gives you less-than-perfect posture and a double chin. He loves all these things that you hate because he knows it means you’re at ease with him. That you trust him. That you don’t have to put a show on for him, a brave face that you wear too often. He’s one of the few that get to see you, not a facade. Got, Your brain quickly corrects, got to see.
“I think we need to talk about what I said last night,” Marcus says.
‘You mean how you found somebody else?’, “I don’t know that-...”
“I know it’s going to… suck to put it lightly but I told you for a reason. Because I do love you, and I’d never hide anything from you, including some silly crush.”
“Silly crush? You told me she took up your mind, that you were mesmerized by her laugh. It wasn’t just finding someone attractive or enjoying their company!” you begin to raise your voice.
“I know, I know. I- I just don’t know what to do. I do love you, I've envisioned our lives together, growing old and being the cutest couple in the care home…”
“Then how could you fall so easily for Teresa? How could you love me if you are able to forget all about me at the sight of another woman?!”
“I don’t know, I- My mind is a mess. I can’t give you an answer. I’m sorry. But… I don’t want you to do this, to be this.” Marcus says while motioning towards you and the absurd breakfast you put together.
“Marcus… I don’t know that I can do that. I look at you and… all I see are my flaws, reasons I’m not good enough. And I know you’ll argue that but it doesn’t matter what you say because I no longer trust a word you say.” Tears well up in your eyes, this isn’t how your morning was supposed to go, you were supposed to fake happiness until everything was fine.
Your words break Marcus’s heart. Flaws? You didn’t have any in his eyes. He’s desperate.
“But tell me you’re willing to try, please?”
I can’t lose him, he’s my everything. He just needs time, he’ll realize he’s being silly and come back to me. He has to. Things will be fine. They have to be. 
You take a deep breath and nod, “I’m willing to try,” you say just above a whisper. The words hurt because it means stabbing yourself in the heart every moment that you look at him. Pretending that you’re enough when you’re not. This isn’t the same as pretending things are fine because Marcus has already admitted it isn’t, that he knows about your defences and doesn’t want you to use them. To openly let yourself get hurt.
— a week later —
The day has taken everything out of you, you’re exhausted but you’ve got housework to do. Truth is, this last week you’ve felt like utter garbage and have tried to hide it by putting more effort into your appearance. If you look good on the outside, you'll feel good on the inside right? Well, it hasn’t really worked but it’s given you something to think about besides the crushing cloud of melancholy that fogs your head. However, between the cloud and the energy you’ve exerted trying to ignore it, you’ve come home exhausted. Although it doesn’t feel much like home anymore, you’re constantly on edge now, waiting for Marcus to say or do something. All while finding subtle ways to improve yourself. You’ve slacked a lot on the house duties. Marcus hasn’t said anything and he’s picked up your slack. He reassures you that it’s okay given the circumstances, that he wants you to ‘focus on yourself’. 
Marcus has found a way to come home early every day this week, except today. Your brain tells you that he doesn’t have to stay late to work but is instead spending time with Teresa. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re too tired if he wants to leave, and you knoe he will but at this point there's nothing you can do to change that. 
While you mentioned taking a break, allowing him to explore, he really hasn’t. He’s felt so guilt-ridden about what he’s done to you, he just wants to make it all better. That in no way redeems him, he knows that. He’s invested more in you, trying to communicate how awful he feels, how he knows he fucked up. Then a case calls extra attention from the team and in walks Teresa… He sees her and feels guilt. He wants to run away from her and into your arms but then she smiles at him… and he forgets you. He forgets how you make him giggle when you wake up annoyed at your alarm every morning. He forgets how you always pour his coffee before your own. He forgets that you’ll plan spontaneous dates after a rough week to help each other forget about it even for a little. He forgets the adorable face you make when concentrating or trying to remember something. He forgets the way you jump and scream when he accidentally startles you that always ends in the two of you laughing in each other's arms. He forgets that he has a piece of the sun waiting at home for him.
You change out of your day's clothes and into some nice loungewear. Nice enough to be comfy but not enough to fall asleep immediately in. You put some music on and begin cleaning, maybe it’s the slightly messy state of your house that is attributing to your dark cloud. If you clean the house, you’ll clean your mind. You know that's not true, that this time it isn’t something you can clean or tend to, to solve. But you do it anyway, hoping it’ll provide some relief. You start in the kitchen, getting lost in the loud music, before you make your way to the bathroom and laundry, losing track of time. Then all that’s left is vacuuming. 
It’s late, you haven’t eaten or bothered to prepare anything, it didn’t feel necessary when you heard Marcus wouldn't be home for dinner. You’re tired but the music is keeping you moving and there’s a small feeling of accomplishment from getting so much work done in spite of your down mood. 
The moment work is finished, Marcus is filled with guilt again. He’s here with Teresa… you’re at home… It’s like she has a spell over him. He thinks of you and his heart sinks. He thinks about how sad he feels with you and happy he feels with Teresa… he’s made his choice. He goes home feeling sick to his stomach, but he can’t continue like this, in limbo. He thought he’d feel lighter with his mind made up but he feels heavier until he gets home and opens the door. You’re singing, and moving to the music while vacuuming. He smiles, he loves coming home to you, he wants to come home to this forever… Your singing is offkey and he loves it, it’s not a show you’re putting on.
Marcus goes and pauses the music and in a split second, you turn and scream before realizing it’s him. You put a hand to your chest, catching your breath.  Marcus laughs, 
“I didn't mean to scare you but this was the least startling way I could think of letting you know I was home.”
“How was work?”, you ask with a small smile, mustering all the energy left in your body to resemble slightly happy and not broken down. Work… Marcus thinks, that’s right, work, his decision. 
“I’ve made up my mind,” You furrow your brows, too tired to connect the dots. “I know who I love, who I want to be with more,” ‘Oh… right, I let him pick, let him decide.’ 
“And?” Marcus takes a deep breath, 
“I want to be with Teresa.”
Time stops and you’re numb, “oh,” is all that comes out. Your eyes aren’t focused and nothing feels real. “Umm… what does- where…” you begin to stutter out.
“I’ve booked a hotel and will find a new place.”
“You’ve already booked a hotel?” you ask emotionless.
Marcus nods, “Back at the office.”
“You’ve already planned…” He’s planned out how to leave. Staying wasn’t ever an option.
“I’m sorry…” Marcus starts but you can’t bear to hear it.
“No no, you- you told me what you felt and I gave you time to decide. You’ve decided. This is just… the cards we were dealt…” you say numbly. Marcus hates to hurt you because he really does love and care for you, he’s just not sure you’re his endgame. 
“I-I‘ll go pack a bag,” he says before leaving the foyer.
He decided. In your clouded head and act you forgot that things could end. That no matter what you did… it wouldn’t have been enough. Somehow this hurts less than when he first told you about Teresa, maybe part of you already knew and grieved. Maybe it was the mix of self-hatred and pessimism that took over your life last week that made the blow more bearable. What hurt was the future. What was your future? Before it was always you and Marcus… now everything was… gone. You’d have to build yourself from scratch. The unknown for the indefinite future was horrifying. Your heart begins racing, everything you knew, the stability in your life, is being stripped from you overnight. Your breaths become shallow as you think about having to move, will you be able to find a new place? Will it be nice? Close to work? What if it’s a dump, infested with rodents and insects? Your hearing is long gone, all you hear is the whirlwind in your mind. Your shallow breaths make you lightheaded and burn your lungs. You lower yourself to the ground with the help of the couch. 
Everything’s a blur and then Marcus’s face is there, in front of you. He looks worried, why’s he worried? What’s happened? Is he okay? Finally, he touches you and you hear an echo of your name come from his lips. Me, I am what’s wrong.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you breathe out, taking some grounding breaths, focusing on how hard the ground feels beneath you. When your senses come back to you, you briefly forget what Marcus has just told you. You see him and think you’re glad he was here to help, but then it dawns on you, he’s the reason it started.
You quickly get up like his presence hurts, because it does.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-…”
“It’s fine you’re okay,” Marcus says while moving to give you a reassuring touch. You maneuver away from him, 
“I’ll let you get back to packing,” you finish without looking at him and walking out the front door. You need air and space.
You don’t go far, your mind is too busy to let your legs carry you far so you find yourself on a nearby bench, no more than 5 minutes from where Marcus is. You don’t know what to do, nothing feels real. In 30 minutes the night's cool air has appeared and made you shiver so you return to the place that hurts most with a new numbness from the cold.
Inside is Marcus with a few bags packed. 
“I was worried, I texted you but,” he motions to your phone left on the counter. 
“Sorry,” you say quietly, “lost track of time. Have you got what you need?”
“Uh… yeah…”
You nod, “when did you want to get the rest of your things?” This was really happening. 
“Um, I’m not too sure yet but within the week for sure, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,  not like I’ll be anywhere else,” you laugh coldly.
“I’m really sorry-…”
“Don’t. Don’t be, I- I want you to be happy so… don’t worry.”
Marcus begins to make his way towards the door with his bags, “I’ll text you about my things.”
“Of course,” you say with a sad smile and with that… he leaves.
The night is a bit of a blur, at first, you were in a mixed state of denial and numbness but at one point you were too tired to hold yourself together and you broke. You ended up laying down on the floor, the bed and the couch having too many memories of him. You don’t sleep and not just because the ground is uncomfortable.
At 6 am panic sets in. You can’t live here, you have to move. You open your phone and begin rapidly planning your future, taking screenshots and sending emails. Just like you have your whole life, you’re left to go it alone, to depend on no one but yourself, working yourself into the ground and then working some more. As heartbreaking and frustrating as it is, you also know one more thing about yourself: no matter what, you always get to the finish line, and you can depend on yourself.
—-4days later—-
You’ve spent all your free time packing and searching for your future. On your days off you’ve gone to different homes and renting spaces and neighbourhoods to see what could be a good fit. You find an apartment near your workplace that’s decent. It’s small but it’s just you so… it’ll work. It’s clean and safe and you can afford it which is all you can really ask for. You’ve been so busy you haven’t had time to grieve, or in other words, you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve by burying yourself in other things.
You’re signing the lease when your phone buzzes in your pocket. 
It’s a text from Marcus that reads: ‘I can pick my stuff up tonight or tomorrow if tonight is too late of notice.’
You text him it’s fine and set to meet at 5 pm.
You get back to your place and begin packing, not only your stuff but Marcus’s as well. You try not to get sentimental about packing the things you once shared but tears escape nonetheless. You try to lessen the pain by forcing yourself to get as much packing done as possible, the sooner you can get out of this place, the better. 
This place hurts to live in now, it feels like you’re living with a ghost. You yearn for Marcus to return but the old Marcus, the ghost of him. You’re constantly bombarded with flashbacks of happy moments between the two of you. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The worst was seeing what could have been. Walking into the kitchen and seeing the two of you attempting a new recipe together. Going to do laundry and seeing a new detergent that Marcus bought because it smelt nice. Going to bed and seeing an older you and Marcus reading comfortably in that same bed. It was like memories you hadn't yet created… and now never would. That hurt the most. These illusions make you want to run back into Marcus’s arms and make them a reality, but this reminds you of the second worst reminder: you never wanted to leave Marcus’s arms… Marcus wanted to leave yours. 
You’re folding extra linens when there's a knock at your door. You know it’s Marcus so you just tell him to let himself in. 
How weird that the two of you used to have keys to this place and enter with the relief of having finished the day and being able to see each other. And now, one of you has to knock, one of you is now a stranger and the other can’t bear living in these four walls. 
Marcus walks in as you finish folding the item in hand, placing it in a box. He stops in his tracks just as quickly as he entered. He takes in the state of what was once his home. A lot of decorations and non-essential furnishings have been stripped off and gathered near the front door, along with boxes, more than was necessary for his stuff.
“What’s uh- what’s going on?” he asks confused.
“Packing,” you say quick, almost crudely.
“You’re moving?”
“Yeah,” you take a breath and finally stop and look to Marcus, “I just can’t live here being reminded-...” you can’t finish. Marcus looks to the ground  nodding, 
“Right, right.”
You walk towards a pile of what looks like miscellaneous items, “I just don’t know how to divvy this stuff,” you explain motioning to the pile.
Marcus takes a closer look at the pile and understands the pile, it’s items you got together. Most were pretty material except one, on the side lay a folded blanket, the fleece tie blanket the two of you made together. Each of you picked a fleece pattern and then the two of you sat on the living room floor and laid them out atop each other, made the appropriate cuts and lastly, tied them together. The blanket would find its home as a throw blanket on the couch that the two of you often used when cuddling together during movie night, date night, or just because. That breaks Marcus’s heart, and it’s then that he takes in the four walls that he’ll never see again, the place that made him so happy, that this part of his life is ending. But he did this, he doesn’t have the right to be heartbroken, this was his decision, his choice. 
“Um I don’t think I need any of it,” he says quietly.
“Okay, well if you don’t want it I’m donating it, I’ve already taken what I need,”
“The blanket,” Marcus nearly yells, he says it so quickly like he was afraid it was gonna disappear before his eyes.
You notice there’s something in the tone of his voice but are too tired and broken to really care or process it. 
“Okay,” you say while handing it to him. 
Giving him the blanket fills you with heartbreak and relief. This was one of the items that hurt most to have to pack away and the pain it caused told you you couldn’t keep it. It not only held the memories of making it but the browsing of the fabric store together, Marcus choosing the most god-awful patterns he could find claiming it was his choice, the dozens of nights spent asleep on the couch after unintentionally falling asleep, and thousands of minutes spent under it. 
Marcus feels every one of those minutes through the threads. Minutes he didn’t think would end, certainly not so suddenly. As he runs his hands over the material the memories run through his mind, memories he assumed he’d continue making with you throughout your mortal lives.
“Is that all?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts
‘You’ his brain thinks, “Uh no, that should do it.”
You nod. You have so many questions for him but the pain in your chest and hurt sob stuck in your throat won’t let you ask.  Was it something I did? Why wasn’t I enough? I tried so hard.  You knew asking wouldn’t help ease the pain no matter the answer he gave you, even if he apologized and ran into your arms the damage was already done. 
You quietly help Marcus take his stuff to his car. Emotionally you’re numb but your brain is screaming at you that this is the end. 
“Thanks,” Marcus breathes when you place the last of his things down.
“No problem,” you turn to walk away, returning to the four walls that allow you to cry in peace but turn back to him.
“Marcus?”
“Yeah?” he looks at you with hopeful eyes.
“I hope the two of you are happy,” you walk away before he can say anything or see the tears that fall. Marcus is left standing on the sidewalk with his things in his arms realizing he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life, and there's nothing he can do to fix it.
Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @alberta-sunrise @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @louderfortheback @trey-18 (also tagged those that were so kind about the first part!)
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morallyinept · 7 months
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A list of all my favourite MAXWELL LORD Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.
Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤
⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.
Dancing With Myself, & Frankie Say Relax Maxwell x M!OC - @ghostofaboy
It Could Be Better Series - @boliv-jenta SexWorker!Maxwell
A Man's World Series Switch!Maxwell, Grapefruit & Vodka & Rings & Recordings - @coastielaceispunk
In The Heights Part 1 & Part 2 - @wardenparker
Sheer - @prolix-yuy PlusSize!Reader
The Election Senator!Max, Kinktober Oct 28th Flogging, The Masked Initiation, The Right Formula & Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @absurdthirst
Anything You Want Subby!Max & Congratulations - @palioom
Flufftober 24 Wonder Woman 1984 - @dyns33
Gold Rush Series & Rumour Has It - @thewayofthemandalorian
No Rules - @violetmuses
What I Want - @flightlessangelwings
Fools Gold - @missredherring
To Wish For A Chance - @lunariafe
Mastermind - @mandoalorian
Shutterbug & Jackpot - @lowlights
I'd Punch You But That'd Ruin That Pretty Little Face - @forever-rogue
Kissing In The Rain - @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa
Why Did You Do It? - @simpingcowboy GN!Reader
Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @toomanystoriessolittletime Couldn't pick just one!
Kinktober Maxwell Series - @toomanystoriessolittletime Modern!Maxwell
Surprise Visit - @holobandit
Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @pintsizemama Couldn't pick just one!
Recovery & A Deserved Break Sub!Max - @pumpkin-stars
Gender Swap, A Christmas Wish & Role Play - @supernaturalgirl20
Rings - @honestly-shite GN!Reader
Blissful Sensations & Greed SugarDaddy!Maxwell - @whiskeynwriting
Maxwell Lord Masterlist & Wild, Unknown Men Series Featuring Marcus Pike Great Gatsby AU - @starlightmornings
I Think I Want It - @lavendertales
Do You Remember Yesterday? - @soft-persephone
Maxwell Lord Masterlist - @musings-of-a-rose Couldn't pick just one!
Of Thieves & Wishes - @maxwell--lord Featuring The Thief
Webcams - @bitchin-beskar
Working Overtime - @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Feels Like Christmas - @gosmigenergy
Stiff - @idolatrybarbie
The First Time For Everything - @palioom
Picture This - @ghostofaboy M!Reader
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