#there's only really one line that alludes to it so I felt I should state it hahah

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Wing Grooming Part 2

lucifer x gn reader smut

thank you to everyone who liked the last one i didn’t expect it to be as well received as it was eee got me all giddy 🙈 i felt like it was only fair bust out a continuation, hopefully you enjoy this one as well and it’s to your liking. also i have some Alastor, Vox n Adam stuff drafted i may end up finishing since i don’t feel as shit at writing lmao anywayyy thanks again kiss kiss

warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, GN body i’m pretty sure-no language specific anatomy (e.g clit, breasts, pussy), but penatration is what’s written, begging from both parties, possibly switch lucifer, dom reader, breeding kink?, mating press (don’t quote me), no Y/N, written on mobile and once again no mention of or alluding to bodytype/hairtype/or skin colour enjoy :)

"I think if we continue that, type of grooming, I won't be able to control myself." Although still shy about his admission his eyes were half lidded and his smile sly. You felt fire explode in your stomach all innocence out the window as your mind settled on one thought. You were gonna bang your friends divorced dad.

Smiling at the king you cautiously and slowly took his hand. “I think you should just relax and enjoy. Whatever happens, i’m more than willing to serve the king.” You lead him back to a seated position feeling his body slightly tremble as you spoke to him so softly. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Lucifer asked genuinely, worried he may have been crossing the line or putting you in a position which made it hard for you to say no. Now back in the prior position with you behind him, his wings splayed lazily behind him. You thought up your reply. “Lucifer, as much as i appreciate your concern, I’ve been stopping myself from drooling over you since you arrived,” You began speaking, tugging at his suit jacket colar. “That’s not because your the king either, if that’s what you think.” Jacket shedded your hands caressed the back of his neck and traveled down the centre of his back, to the base of all of his wings. Lucifer cleared his throat attempting to cover up the whimper that slipped past him in such a state.

You had him at your mercy, completely slumped posture relaxed, his legs spread out wide, eyes closed, you kept peaking around to catch glimpses of his gorgeous face. Continuing to do the first task at hand, you combed through his last set of wings, and Lord did the God make them sensitive for sure. Lucifer thought you must’ve been the true devil the way your hands worked only at his wings, meanwhile other areas of his body were becoming far more uncomfortable then his wings originally were. “Are you alright hun?” Lucifer chuckled lowly at that, teeth gritted. “Don’t pretend to be an angel.” Humming in response, you brushed his hair behind his ear while you circled around to join him on the bench. Sat beside him now, his eyes lazily met yours, a smile blessing his beautiful face.

Your stomach tightened with anticipation and want, leaning in slightly just to invade his personal space, you pretended not to notice the hump in his suit pants and dragged your hand from his knee, up to his thigh. Lucifers breath hitched meeting your waiting gaze, it was clear to him you’d brought yourself this far, it was his turn to put in some work. Although he found it extremely difficult with your dilated eyes staring at him expectingly while your thumb traced back and forth just inches below where he really wanted you to touch. Swallowing thick saliva he wrapped three wings around you, tugging your body agasint his effectively gaining a little noise from you. “Please,” He whispered to you body now turned toward in your direction, arm snaking behind your hips nestled between your body and his wings keeping their protective position around you.

You felt hungry for him, pure lust clouding your mind as you looked at his face. It held desperation, need, the way his brows knit together and upward, smile fallen into something that almost appeared pained. Moving your hand from his thigh to cupping his neck you pulled him toward you. The king didn’t stutter swiftly taking action to meet you in the middle. The two of you met with a sloppy kiss that held no real rhythm or direction, it was just the two of you breaking the thick tension by finally devouring eachother. Lucifer was no longer hesitant to give into the want he had, falling into your grasp while simultaneously pulling you as close as possible to him.

Your hand moved from his neck and trailed down the front of his chest and to the hem of his pants. Lucifer groaned into your mouth jerking upward into your hand, smiling agasint his mouth you pulled away causing Lucifer to chase your lips, eyes barely open. “C’mon big boy, lead me to your bed where you can comfortably stretch your wings.” Jumping to his feet he pulled you up with him. “Alright! Say no more!” The king excitedly exclaimed smile returning, snapping his fingers the two of you appeared at the side of his king sized bed.

The teleportation was excessive for the short walk to the bed, but Lucifer was excited, and wanted to show off just slightly. Grabbing him by the vest, you pulled him back into you, quickly falling back into the kiss, like it was natural, your tongues twisting and breath intertwined. Lucifer busied his hands with your hotel uniform, unbuttoning the suit jacket and dragging it off your body. You followed his lead unbuttoning his vest and starting on the last layer of cloth. The two of you smashed against one another once bare, the feeling of lucifers hot skin against you made you moan into him, behind him his wings spasmed with every response he got from you. Your finger nails scrapped gently against his scalp, and you pulled him in impossibly closer by his hair. He nearly came in his pants at your subtle displays of dominance and cared less and less each moment about holding back, grinding his hips into your own he was practically humping you.

Since the two of you stood at the side of the bed, making out, you decided it was enough. With mild force you shoved lucifer back on the bed, causing him to yelp. He got up on his forearms watching you upbutton his pants with hunger in your eyes. “How can i serve you, my King?” Already palming his hard on he threw his head back moaning. “Ugh, fuck- please.” He whimpered looking at you through his lashes as you grasped him with light pressure through his boxers, your other hand coming up beside him avoiding leaning on the wings that laid out relaxed.

Slowly you leaned yourself over him biting your lip with a wicked grin. “Help me with my pants Luci?” You whined dragging your crotch up his thigh. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to snap the buttons off and yank them down from where the sat. You giggled at his urgency, you were being a tease you knew. But you wanted to revel in the sight that you had before you, Lucifer the king of hell, beaded sweat along his forehead, messy hair, wings out fully expanded, face flushed and body ever so responsive to any touch you gave. You loved how hot it made you to have him so vulnerable all for you when it wasn’t likely anyone had seen him this way since Lilith.

“You’re so handsome, my king,” You purred kicking off your pants, a little awkwardly, and tugged at his. A quick ‘off’ left your mouth and it was all it took for the king to arch himself up and kick off his own pants leaving you two in nothing but underwear. You sat on top of his bulge making him toss his head back biting his lip, still propped up so he could glance at your devilish form every now and again. Grinding down on him made him jerk up, eyes meeting yours by reflex as you leaned forward threading your arms through his, and past his wings onto the bed, preparing to teasingly grind on him. “No,” Lucifer whimpered against your lips promptly stopping you from connecting again. “I, i can’t, no more teasing, i need to fuck you.” He switched at the end from a breathless begging to an assertion of sorts, making you smile looking into his eyes you could only imagine how dazed and full of desire your own eyes looked.

It’s not like you, yourself wasn’t barely hanging on by a thread, so without anymore teasing you slid your underwear down and lined yourself up to Lucifer. Precum slid down the length making him slick, his eyes traced your form, enchanted by how sinful you looked above him. You had a coy smile on your face as your inched down onto him. His hands flew to your hips gripping at your flesh as he tried to stop himself from ferociously fucking up into you. The devil knew good and well he could have control, could bring you into a state of fucked out bliss that would outdo any future partners, but he much preferred letting you set him ablaze while he relaxed into your electric touch and natural control. Being at your mercy felt good, and he hadn’t had somebody put such attentive care into the way they touched him up until now. Finally sinking fully down, your back naturally arched, mouth opening with silent bliss as the king filled you up to the brim. Lucifer twitched inside you, his tail finally making an appearance by snaking out from under him and around your stomach.

“Holy shit Lucifer,” You whined needily rocking yourself into him rather than properly riding him. Although Lucifer couldn’t care less, feeling you squeeze him tightly your body heat mingling with his own, the frangrance you wore mixed with the natural scent of your body intoxicating him further, he was in bliss. Falling forward into him, your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand going right back to raking through his hair tugging him back into a sloppy french kiss. Bending his legs Lucifer met your thrusts by fucking upward into you, his wings curling up from their rest on the bed effectively coocooning the two of you together. “Lord Luce, please, fuck. You should let me help you more often,” The sentence you said was more needy moaning then words but it wasn’t unexpected with the way Lucifer had kicked up the game; leaving hickeys and bite marks along your shoulders as his hands gripped and massaged any inch of skin they passed. It was all consuming, not to mention he’d covered you almost entirely with his wings making it so you could only be so far from him, it was like he was trying to keep you as close as possible greedy for everything you had.

Swiftly, lucifer switched positioned lifting you like nothing, and placing you on your back, making it so he had the advantage above you. He wasted no time pressing your legs as far up to your shoulders as they could go, loving that same dazed look in your eyes that he had moments ago sinking himself into you at a new angle. It swelled his chest with pride seeing he had the same effect on you as you had on him. Now it was his turn to have a coy smile, looking down at you as you moaned in an octave he hasn’t ever heard from you before. Sandwhiching you down, he caged you with his arms and wings fully blanketing you with himself. You looked up as he kept a slow shallow pace fucking in and out of you. “Ready to feel what heaven has to offer, my sovereign.” Lucifer chuckled darkly lust taking control at your bodys willingness to mold to him and the position he wanted. You kept moaning shamelessly as he tortured you with teasing thrusts, eyes watching him closely like he was all you knew. Finally he amped up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your body jolted back. “Shit Lucifer.” You moaned biting your lip watching as he drank up the sight of you. “Mh you’re so sweet, next time, I’ll have to taste you,” He gritted out, fucking into you rapidly his wings still protectively covering you, keeping eyes closed, and leaning his sweaty forehead against your own.

“Oh-fuck me i’m gonna cum,” You squealed suddenly being hit by waves of pleasure when he hit that spot inside you. Lucifer groaned biting your shoulder, skin slapping lewdly as he jack hammered himself into you, chasing his quick rising orgasm. You mewled unabled to do anything but grip at his hair and back, toes clenching as your wrapped them as tight as possible around him. “Don’t pull out i need it,” You cried out throwing your head back in euphoria, it was almost there but you couldn’t fully cum yet and it was torture.

That was until Lucifer lost the last of his control, horns expanding eyes a dark glowing red. He growled, actually growled something that otherwise would’ve been demonically frightening and pulled you into another firey kiss. This time though it was passionate, like trying to convey through this moment, that he didn’t view this as a one off hook up. He pulled away from the kiss his lips inches away from your own as he moaned, clenching his teeth. “I wantcha to be mine, only.” He stated lowly, pace never faltering as he spoke, you whined eyes pinched close holding on for him. “Say yes,” He demanded rather darkly before pecking you on the lips, you clenched around him at that feeling yourself about to snap. “Yes, i’m yours only,” You whined drawn out as you felt yourself coming undone, bringing you into another kiss, he put all his weight on top of you the bed creaking and possibly sliding against the floor as he fucked you. Once you screamed out his name, crying for him to fuck you, pleading to fill you fully, he was done for. Your name repeatedly fell from his lips as he cried as well gasping and panting as he pumped himself and his seed deeply inside of you, which only dragged out your orgasm longer.

The way you two finished was pornographic and the room was filled with the scent of sex. Lucifer slumped on top of you, the two of you panting violently, entangled in eachother and not in a rush to move away. You brought your hand up playing with his hair as he laid on you. “Stay with me tonight,” He started to say hushed seemingly afraid you’d now reject him. “I don’t want to be alone.” He finished quietly, you hummed continuing to play with his blonde locks, now sticky with sweat. “Of course Luce, I don’t want and never intended to leave you.”

[luxurybrownbarbie]

Re: Piers feeling rejected by Meg: I'm glad you brought this up bc I've been dying to make this point: harassing women isn't always just catcalling and it isn't always sexual, but a lot of men don't seem to understand that. Male entitlement goes far beyond sex, misogynistic men feel that women owe them respect, favors, kindness, friendship, career opportunities, etc. especially if they consider that women 'beneath them' (read: non white) and especially if they feel they did said woman a favor (read: be vaguely nice to them once.) Like that one scene in Mad Men where Joan reprimands a guy for messing up a business deal and he says 'i thought you were going to be fun.' Meaning-- I obvi don't know Piers or William, but I think Piers' anger is that he assumed since he knew Meg he would always have a scoop. Like he would be her go-to for announcements and press statements and leaks, and when that didn't happen he lashed out. The press punishes you for not speaking to them. With William, who knows. Maybe he felt entitled to undying loyalty and silence and obedience as the heir and future head of the family. Judging by how people were mad at her 'woke agenda' I'm guessing a lot of these dudes felt entitled to Meghan being subservient and quiet and look at them all starry-eyed for allowing her to marry in, and she had self worth and dared to disagree w them and people couldn't handle that.

Hmm. While I think this is a very fair and balanced take, I also think there are several layers of context and discussion not really taken into account here.

Will’s behavior is absolutely up for discussion, because it can read as many things at once. But removing the elements of sexual entitlement in Piers’ behavior doesn’t make sense, respectfully. Nothing about his rage and hatred of her reads as professional anger in any way. It has been both alluded to and explicitly stated by several journalists and individuals that Piers’ hatred reads more as sexual/romantic entitlement and jealousy and not pure journalistic disrespect. He was called on it on social media and promptly deactivated for a couple of weeks back in 2021.

He did feel entitled to her because he asked her out on a “date”, and she appeared to have a good time. He had ulterior motives. If it was about being the “scoop” he would never have fixated on the “date” they had years before.

A smart journalist who felt disrespected would have used the fact that the two of them had a cordial relationship, and aimed to remain in her good graces to eventually get other scoops, like Omid and others did. Piers did not.

Harassment is entirely about power, but sex and power are inextricably linked under the patriarchy. Especially for women of color. Entitlement to women encapsulates all of those spheres, including sexual entitlement. We are hypersexualized and desexualized all at once. By her accepting that dinner with him, he immediately felt as though she was accepting him romantically/sexually, and that she should accept him because she is nonwhite and he is a white man. Her engagement filled him with rage, so much so that he has continued to hate her for years afterward, and actively sought to destroy her and possibly have her take her own life. That’s sexual entitlement taken up to 100.

Not to mention his disdain for her choice of partner. He would have been pissed no matter who she married, but the fact that she married Prince Harry set him off even more. She chose a man significantly better than him in every way. Harry is younger, titled, in the line of succession, and has a better reputation than Piers does. He is disgusted that Meghan not only “rejected” him, but managed to find a better partner. His hatred extends to Harry, which makes him even more dangerous. This is not journalistic envy, this is retaliation for wounded romantic pride. The press has absolutely punished her for not playing the game, but Piers has not led this charge out of professional grievance. The press doesn’t hate her, they like the clicks and revenue. Piers hates her.

The example you’re looking for for a man who was upset she wasn’t meek and quiet is Charles. He was happy to walk her down the aisle and constantly be seen with her until she decided to actually work and not just say yes and only speak when spoken to. Will’s anger is not nearly as controlled as Charles’ is, largely because I don’t think it’s coming from the same place. Charles is the one who demands undying loyalty by virtue of now leading the house. It’s why he cut Harry off the minute he no longer complied.

Will, who we now know (we didn’t know this when you sent this message) was a fan of hers and watched her show religiously with his wife, and was, by 99% of accounts, welcoming when they were first introduced and right up until Harry decided to marry her, suddenly feeling an anger so powerful he was willing to nearly beat up his brother does not read as anger over her not being subservient enough or not following the family blindly.

I promise, men like that, who are so deeply entrenched in their racism can, and often do, get pissed at the fact that they’re attracted to nonwhite women. I saw it at my university, and I see it now in certain circles. To be honest, Meg didn’t even need to actively reject an advance from Will. He might have expected her to be a hypersexual title chaser who would be more impressed by him and was shocked when she was only focused on his brother. Her not playing the part that he, a racist, had put her in in his mind, was also a rejection.

We obviously don’t know the motivations for these two men. But when comparing Charles’ anger, which we know to be motivated by his annoyance at her not sitting silently and looking pretty (and at her being biracial) to the anger of these two men...

[sign-from-god-complex]

Warmth

Summary: Despite the reality of it, the room didn’t feel empty. It felt soft—hazy and warm like a mug of hot chocolate or a sleepy summer morning or like Emile. It felt like the air around them was filled with sunbeams or cotton wool or a slow but sweet grin. It felt like love. And Remy was drowning in it.

Pairing: Remile (with background familial sleepxiety)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“One, two, three. One, two, three,” Remy murmured under their breath, hands held out in front of them as they twirled around the room.

It wasn’t graceful—their footwork was sloppy and every so often they’d miss a step before taking a breath and starting again—but they were learning. They couldn’t expect to be perfect immediately! Or at least that’s what Emile would tell them anyway.

The music faded out slowly and Remy dropped their arms, heaving out a sigh. Quickly going to check their phone, which was still plugged in to the speakers, they noted it was only 4:30—plenty of time left to practise before they were expected home.

“Rem?”

“Milly!” Remy yelled, scrambling to pause the music which—as they’d set it to loop—was just beginning to start up again, “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

In response, Emile giggled and Remy tried to ignore how it made their chest feel like it was filled with helium or rays of sunlight or cotton candy fluff.

“I was just about to pick up Pat and Ro from rehearsals!” he replied, pacing his way forward into the room. He glanced around, taking in the mostly empty space filled only with mirrors and the sound of Remy’s heart beating out of their chest, “I heard the sound of Disney and I couldn’t help but come and investigate. Was that Someday My Prince Will Come from Snow White?”

Remy scratched at the back of their neck for a moment.  “A version of, yeah.”

They’d actually searched for ages to find an instrumental recording where it didn’t cut out or slow down too much to get in the way of their practice. In the end, they’d just had Virgil cut it for them in some audio editing software. Thankfully, he agreed to do them a favour without asking what they needed it for; they aren’t entirely sure they could have handled the embarrassment.

“What are you doing in here?”

Emile’s tone was slightly baffled but his expression more curious than anything. Honestly, sometimes he reminded Remy too much of Logan which, if you knew how close the four of them were brought up, wasn’t really very strange at all.

(Of course, that wasn’t taking into account the fact that Logan was entirely spoken for and, regardless, Logan didn’t have that delightful sparkle in his eyes when they walked through the park together, chattering about nothing and everything all at once. He didn’t have that look of absolute wonder when he glanced up at Remy, his lips parted and his eyes wide and just crinkled at the corners like he was barely holding back a laugh.

He doesn’t dance around the kitchen, singing and giggling to music playing from his phone; he doesn’t pull Remy into the pool when they refuse to get in, complaining about their hair getting ruined; he doesn’t make Remy’s stomach flip and their cheeks heat and cause their smooth demeanour to abandon them.

So, maybe Emile wasn’t that much like Logan at all.)

They ducked their head, feeling Emile’s gaze on them as they moved to pick up their jacket from the ground. “Uhh… Practising.”

“Practising?” Emile parroted, grabbing Remy’s water bottle from the floor in front of him before handing it to them—Remy just hoped their face wasn’t as red as it felt, “For what?”

“Prom, actually,” they admitted.

They weren’t entirely sure what expression it was that flit across Emile’s face but it barely lasted a moment before his features were set into a look of mild surprise—fake, Remy suspected; sometimes they wondered if Patton was a bad influence on him.

“Oh! I thought you said you weren’t going to prom.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to but Virgil called me a chicken and basically blackmailed me into it. Babes, I swear, that little shit can be so sneaky when he wants to be.”

“What do you mean?”

Remy sighed, running their hand through their hair and immediately regretting it as they realised they were still slightly sweaty from their dancing. Probably should take a shower when they get home. “Uh, just that he knows there’s someone I wanted to ask.”

“Oh.”

Emile stopped in his tracks, blinking a few times before turning up his smile a few notches too bright. There was no crinkling at the corners of his eyes, no glitter in his gaze and it made something in Remy’s chest tighten.

“I, uh- I just remembered I have to go pick up Pat and Roman! They’re probably waiting for me. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?”

Remy barely had time to reply in the affirmative before he disappeared around the corner, practically leaving an Emile-shaped dust cloud in his wake.

“Well, that can’t be good,” Remy mumbled before resigning themself to finding their own way home.

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

The next few weeks saw Remy back in the studio, wishing that they had a partner to practise with. They had very briefly considered asking one of the kids to help them out but Patton had no idea how to dance, Roman was far too much drama and Logan almost certainly would refuse to agree—and dancing with their brother was absolutely a last resort.

Thus, here they were again, partnerless and only feeling slightly less ridiculous about it than they had been to begin with.

Pressing play on the recording, the speakers dragged out the opening bars to Once Upon A Dream, maybe not quite as smoothly as if Remy had left the intro in but they didn’t quite have the patience to sit through 8 something bars of useless instrumental.

It had turned out that Virgil had been entirely too aware of why Remy had needed the recording and, when they’d come to him to ask for help again, told them, “if you need any more disgustingly sappy music to pine to then you’re gonna edit it yourself”. As such, maybe the recording wasn’t quite the quality Virgil could have provided but considering it was only to practise anyway, Remy wasn’t actually too worried about it.

They hummed along softly as the music filled the room, their eyes falling closed as they lost themself for a moment—their head only filled with scraps of conversations, half-formed daydreams and the exact colour of the blush on Emile’s cheeks when they’d told him how much the skirt he’d worn today suited him.

“You’ll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream,” Remy sang quietly, their voice barely a whisper in the emptiness around them.

It didn’t feel empty, though. It felt soft—hazy and warm like a mug of hot chocolate or a sleepy summer morning or like Emile. It felt like the air around them was filled with sunbeams or cotton wool or a slow but sweet grin. It felt like love. And Remy was drowning in it.

As the song came to a close, Remy’s motions slowed to a stop. For a moment, they just stood there; their eyes closed as they took their time coming back to their surroundings. Once it registered that they’d managed to run through the entire song without screwing up they beamed—breathless and so proud.

It definitely didn’t mean that this journey was over but they were well on their way.

As Remy was preparing to restart the music, they heard a quiet gasp from the doorway—soft and awed and shocked all at once. They spun around, barely catching a glimpse of a skirt whipping out of sight—in fact, the exact same skirt Emile had been wearing earlier that day.

“Emile?” they called out, half-jogging their way over, “Are you there, babes?”

Their heart was bouncing up and down in their chest, hoping—hoping—that Emile would finally provide them with a good chance to ask him out. He’d been suspiciously absent recently, ducking out for homework more often or claiming overtime at work and they were trying really hard not to worry about what that might mean.

Virgil had been entirely unhelpful in this matter. Really, Remy would have thought Virgil could be a little more sympathetic towards potentially unfounded anxieties but he just kept pressuring them to tell him their “feelings” or whatever. It was getting a little bit exhausting.

Unfortunately for Remy, there was no sign of him; the corridor void of any life that wasn’t simply their own echoing breaths. Resigning themself to the belief that they had only seen what they wanted to see—that it was nothing more than one of the younger kids, surprised to find someone in the practise room and running out of sight before the person inside could identify them—they sighed and began to gather up their things. 

They weren’t really in the mood to dance anymore.

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

Things between the two of them had been weird. 

Remy had managed to pinpoint the origin to about a week or so ago, around the time Emile had caught them dancing for the first time. They didn’t want to admit that that was the reason that Emile was avoiding them now, was cutting himself off mid-thought and not smiling that smile that made Remy’s insides light up like a supernova. Because acknowledging that would mean acknowledging other things—acknowledging that maybe Remy was the only one pining, acknowledging that maybe Emile was uncomfortable with their affections, acknowledging that maybe Remy had ruined everything.

And they didn’t think they could do that.

They had skipped practising for the last few days, feeling like it wasn’t really worth it if there was no chance that they’d be able to go to prom anyway. Plus, Virgil’s needling had really started to get on their nerves—always going on about when they were going to finally ask Emile out—so they’d just told him they changed their mind. In response, he’d just sighed, giving Remy a look they didn’t quite understand but they think may have been disappointment. 

They didn’t blame him; they were pretty disappointed in themself as well.

Today, though, they’d come back. They weren’t sure why. Nothing about this day was different than the last ones had been—sympathetic looks from their friends, stilted conversations and awkward silences—but, for some reason, they’d just felt like they’d needed to.

They’d come to really enjoy dancing over the months they’d been doing it and if they couldn’t find a way to express their emotions through that, they weren’t sure they were going to express them at all. And Emile had always told them bottling things up was unhealthy (though, if you asked them, that had always felt slightly hypocritical).

It was unexpected, maybe, but Remy had long since stopped worrying about what was expected of them.

After scrolling through their music library for a moment, Remy pushed play, locking their phone and coming to stand more in the centre of the room. There were a few bars of pure instrumental—they hadn’t ever thought this was a song they’d have to worry about cutting—but after a few moments, the vocals streamed in.

When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful.

Every hour spent together lives within my heart.

And when she was sad, I was there to dry her tears.

And when she was happy, so was I.

When she loved me.

Remy closed their eyes, spinning in place a few times and just letting the music wash over them. Then, they began to move, slowly and fluidly, showing off for themself just a little. They needed to feel like it was worth it—like all those days they’d spent in this very room, letting themself just be vulnerable hadn’t simply gone to waste.

Through the summer and the fall, we had each other, that was all.

Just she and I together, like it was meant to be.

“And when she was lonely, I was there to comfort her,” Remy sang, the words wavering slightly, “And I knew that he lov-”

Voice breaking, they folded over, hands gripping their thighs and just breathing as the music played on in the background. Their eyes were stinging and the crack in their chest only seemed to widen with every word so they moved to turn the music off, taking something of a steadying breath once silence filled the air again.

“This is stupid,” they muttered, rubbing at their eyes to remove any evidence of their breakdown, “What am I doing?”

“I thought it was amazing.”

Remy’s head shot up, staring at Emile in the doorway with a look of mild horror—though, for his part, Emile didn’t seem to notice.

Slowly, he walked up to them, so close that Remy could lean forward and bump into his chest and despite the fact that their brain was telling them to run as far away as possible, they were completely frozen to the spot. And as Emile gave a small smile, Remy wondered vaguely if it was possible to actually die from just being way too gay.

(They then realised if it was possible to die from being too gay Roman would absolutely have gone first, so they were probably safe.)

“May I make a song suggestion?” He asked, voice soft and just brushing up against their skin.

It took a moment too long for them to register that was a question—something Remy would entirely blame on Emile’s proximity and the fact that they were kind of a gay disaster—but they nodded, letting Emile pluck their cellphone right out of their hands.

It only took a moment of searching before music started flooding out of the speakers and it took Remy less time than that, after the music began, to place it. They refused to close their eyes, not when Emile was standing in front of them looking like that—like fond and soft and sweet and like maybe all this worry was for nothing because he looked a little bit like love too.

“All those days, watching from the windows. All those years, outside looking in. All that time, never even knowing just how blind I've been.”

Emile’s voice was soft and rich and warm and Remy couldn’t help but be reminded again of hot chocolates and sleepy summer mornings and the culmination of every conversation the two of them had ever had. His eyes traced their face with each line he sung and Remy was sure it was bright red but they didn’t feel as if they could be blamed at all.

“Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight. Now I'm here, suddenly I see. Standing here, it's, oh, so clear, I'm where I'm meant to be.”

With a grin—and still singing softly into the space between them—Emile took a step back and offered them his hand. There was almost no hesitation in their reply, grabbing his palm and letting him pull them out further into the room and then tighter against his chest.

“And at last, I see the light and it's like the fog has lifted. And at last, I see the light and it's like the sky is new. And it's warm and real and bright and the world has somehow shifted.”

Remy could hear his heartbeat from where they were tucked into his arms but they pulled away slightly—enough to grab his hands and begin to guide them around the room.

“All at once, everything looks different. Now that I see you.”

There was a moment of silence between the pair, blanketed in the music and Remy’s gentle touch keeping them moving across the floor. Emile’s ballroom dancing lessons from years prior seemed to have kicked back in and though he let Remy lead, he certainly wasn’t stepping on anyone’s toes.

He was avoiding their eyes, though. And Remy knew that fear—even if they’d like to pretend that they didn’t—so they took a deep breath. And they sang.

“All those days, chasing down a daydream. All those years, living in a blur. All that time, never truly seeing things the way they were.”

Truly, Remy didn’t know why Emile was so shocked. Yes, they’d never been particularly open with their emotions but they were so gone on him and they had never been good at hiding it. Years and years and years and years, Remy had been pining after him—long before there was even a him to pine over, long before Remy had even known what pining was.

It was always Emile. Always.

“Now he's here, shining in the starlight. Now he's here, suddenly I know. If he's here, it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go.”

They hadn’t been entirely sure that the change in pronouns would be audible enough over the sound of the speakers but as Remy watched Emile drop his head with a smile, cheeks stained red, they were glad they had taken the chance.

“And at last, I see the light and it's like the fog has lifted. And at last, I see the light and it's like the sky is new. And it's warm and real and bright and the world has somehow shifted.”

Their voices melded together, like a tapestry woven with two different threads—circling around each other and weaving in and out but never straying too far.

It was even better than Remy had imagined it to be. It felt so easy—like they were dancing with a sprite or a fairy, something magical that fit perfectly in time with them, except also knowing it could be no one but Emile. He was in every sense they had, overwhelming them almost but in a way that they’d gladly experience for the rest of their life.

“All at once, everything is different, now that I see you.”

Gradually, Remy slowed them to a stop, migrating their hands down to rest on Emile’s hips and watching him blush.

“Now that I see you.”

And with the end of the song fading out came silence, filling up the air in a much more comfortable manner than they had been afforded the last few weeks. Though there was no longer anything to dance to, neither of them moved—neither of them felt they could move, lest they disrupt this sense of calm that had settled.

In the end, Remy caved first, sighing ever so softly. “We should probably head out, doll.”

Emile ducked his head, chewing at the inside of his lip. Remy didn’t move their hands, not wanting to depart just yet, despite their words.

“I’m sorry,” Emile breathed out, honest and remorseful, “I’ve been really silly these past couple days.”

Remy shrugged. “It’s okay, hon, I-”

“No, it- it’s not,” he interrupted, eyes meeting Remy’s for the first time since the silence had been broken. They were almost teary and Remy just barely resisted the urge to reach up to cradle his face in their hands, wiping away any that manage to leak out. “I’ve been so cold to you and all because I was- was jealous! It’s so stupid!”

“Jealous? Darling, there ain’t nobody to be jealous of.” 

Emile scowled and even though Remy could tell it wasn’t directed at them they still felt their chest ache. “Well, I know that now.”

“And what are you gonna do with that information, huh, babe?”

Remy had entirely meant to add an “s” to the end of babe, they just… hadn’t quite managed to get it out of their mouth. So as it was they just watched as Emile’s eyes widened slightly and his cheeks flushed even more and, Jesus, if Remy didn’t get to kiss him soon they were almost certain they were going to die.

It seemed as if Emile was on the same page because, with nothing more than a gentle head tilt and an answering nod from Remy, he leaned in and up, pressing their lips together.

It wasn’t a long kiss; it wasn’t a deep kiss; it was simple, soft and sweet and it was everything Remy had dreamed of and more. Their hands slid up from Emile’s waist to cup his cheek and rest on his shoulder, guiding him gently and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath their hand. 

They drew away after a few moments but not too far—resting their forehead against Emile’s and unable to take their gaze away from the crinkles around his eyes and the sparkle that was staring straight at them.

“Hey, Remy?” Emile asked, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin, “D’you wanna go to prom with me?”

Remy beamed. “Honey, I would love nothing more.”

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @primaryyblogg @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree 

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter (Bodyguard!Dave York x Female Reader)

AN: This is my first time publishing my writing, its been a behind the scenes hobby of mine for a while, and I just decided a Bodyguard!Dave fic needed to exist... so I figured why not... right? This is just an opener to gauge interest I guess. I have a slow burn, smutty story in mind but I guess I wanted to just get this out there as a foundation for the story. Let me know what you think! I’d really appreciate it.

Rating: This chapter is M, but future chapters will be EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY

Series(?)Summary: Following his divorce from Carol and an early retirement from the CIA, Dave York picks up a gig at a security company. When he is assigned to bodyguard the out of control daughter of a prominent United States Senator, for once in his life, Dave feels like he may be losing control.

Word Count: This chapter is 676, but I expect future chapters to be within the 3-5k range.

Series Warnings: Eventual Smut (18+ ONLY), AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, Divergence from canon, Mean Dom! Dave York, Bratty! Reader, AGE GAP (reader is of age!), Enemies to Lovers (they’re both mean to each other at the start!), Mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, possible conversations of politics, minor violence (a punch here and there)

~~~~~~~~~~

Dave York had experienced just about everything. Love, marriage, fatherhood, divorce, war, and cold-blooded murder. He considered himself a pretty well-prepared man. He had a plan for everything. Having lived through the most difficult things a person could, he felt as though anything else life threw at him, he could take in stride.

Following his divorce with Carol, Dave was ready for a clean start. When one of his old friends from the CIA retired and started his own security company, he all but ensured Dave a job should he ever need it. Chris Landers had nudged Dave in the ribs and joked “if you ever get enough common sense to get out of this hellhole, you know where to find me.” Initially, Dave took it at that, a stupid joke from a friend he would never see again. But, hey, things change. And to be fair, working for Chris doing silly little security jobs at concerts and the occasional escort for some stuck up politician was way easier, and paid better than the shit he was stuck with at the CIA. After a grueling custody battle with Carol, Dave didn’t even hesitate to call Chris. He needed a break.

After 6 months, Chris and Dave were doing pretty well for themselves. Landers’ Security was booming, constantly receiving calls from short staffed arenas and celebrities visiting the area. Chris was richer than he ever thought was possible working for the CIA, and Dave had gained notoriety as the best in the business. He became Chris’ go to man, reserved only for the most important jobs, and Dave maneuvered through them with an intriguing mix of cold and ruthless, while still remaining professional and cordial to the client. So, when Chris called Dave at 1:53 in the morning on his day off, Dave knew something was up.

“Alright, Chris, what do you need?” Dave answered after the first ring. He wasn’t even sleeping. A habit that alluded him since his time in the military. Chris sighed on the other line. Shit. This must be bad.

“Dave, you know you’re the best guy I got, right”

Instead of a verbal reply, Dave just hummed. Ready to hear whatever has Chris so fucking stressed.

“Look… there’s a job. You’re not gonna like it… you know Senator Leland’s girl?”

Knew her? Who didn’t know her? Before she turned 21, she was involved in multiple underaged drinking scandals. Photos of her passed out on couches or taking shots with frat boys graced gossip magazines and TMZ at least once a month. Since she had turned 21 three months ago, she has been spotted at every seedy nightclub in the state, and pictures of her dancing on tables, or stumbling out of clubs in short dresses with her makeup smeared across her face became a staple feature when news anchors discussed her father’s re-election campaign. Another spoilt little rich girl gone wild. Tale as old as time.

“Yeah… I know her. What happened this time?”

“Drug possession.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“Yeah, who’s surprised. Only a matter of time. Alright, Chris, what’s that got to do with you calling me at 1 in the fucking morning?”

“Her father hired us. He wants her to have a full-time bodyguard. Keep her out of trouble, ya know? You’re the only guy I trust so… you’re on the job, buddy.”

“Jesus Christ, Chris you can’t just…”

Before Dave could even start trying to back out of this shit, Chris jumps in “Listen, Dave. I get it. But you’re the only guy I think could control her. This girl is wild, okay? I couldn’t see anyone else wrangling her in. You think Johnson could pull this shit off? He couldn’t even manage a Wiggles reunion. It’s just until the election is over. 5 months. You get to stay at this big mansion by the ocean, you’ll get paid more than any other job, think of it as a 5-month vacation. Just keep her out of trouble. She’s 21, Dave. How hard could it be?”

Famous last words.

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

Tag List: @spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @spencersmagic @uhuhuh @living-for-romance @aharvey979 @xoxo-jnh-xoxo @marrymespencerrei @crypticcorvidinacottage , @ladydragoneye , @stjoaninthewildwest

[miraculouscontent]

*rubs hands together*

The first thing to talk about with this episode is the pacing, and I think this might contribute to why people think it’s the best/least bad of Season 4 (personally, I’d rather watch “Furious Fu” but that’s just me; also, this isn’t the only contributing factor as to why I think people might feel this way, but I’ll get there later).

The episode has a very serious pacing issue, particularly with its more intense scenes. There’s only one minute of time dedicated to Ladybug landing on her bed, de-transforming, and her snapping at her friends plus them leaving. More time was spent on Chat Noir and Ladybug in the movie theater and Ladybug storming out.

I particularly remember watching the episode and getting eighteen minutes in, at which point I had the realization of, “It feels like nothing’s happened?”

This episode is supposed to be a big gut punch, but the season has been going by at the speed of sound, like they’re trying desperately to play all their cards at once (Lukanette break-up, Adrimi break-up, then Alya is told Marinette’s secret identity). Instead of letting things build and play out for a while in the interest of suspense, the show just throws whatever will get a big reaction out of the fandom (whether positive or negative) and it doesn’t care how shoddily put together everything is. The first two episodes feel like hastily put together drafts, and while this one is technically more put together, it still feels like a draft.

Let’s just start with Chat Noir, who feels completely out of place in the episode. Not only does he imply that he intentionally calls Ladybug “Bugaboo” (which she has told him to stop doing) in order to get a reaction out of her, but when Ladybug insists that she doesn’t want to talk, he tricks her into thinking that he has a good location to do so (and my heart breaks a little at how readily she trusts him) only to then take her to a romantic movie, then shush her when she calls him out for it because she “said she didn’t want to talk.”

Gee, and people wonder why she didn’t tell him her secret (even outside of “Chat Blanc” existing)?

And... look, I know it’s a joke, but I do not find it funny. The “joke” is basically that Chat Noir is taking advantage of the situation to flirt with Ladybug, and though I find it at least mildly cathartic that Ladybug is unaffected by all the people staring at them while Chat Noir is embarrassed, this episode is coming right after the one where Kagami broke up with Adrien, and here Chat Noir is getting his flirt game on. I already talked about all my problems with “Lies” so I won’t do it again, but I’ll just say that it’s not a mystery why Ladybug doesn’t want to talk to him and would rather avoid her problems.

(Not to mention that Ladybug knows that Chat Noir likes her, so talking about her romantic problems with him is awkward to say the least and would come off as insensitive.)

Honestly, at this point I feel like they must be building to something with Chat, like Ladybug finally going off of him with no mercy and that forces him to give up/fall out of love for her because reverse love square, but if that’s what they intend to go for, then that means Marinette is going to fall for this guy who’s repeatedly disrespected her feelings for multiple seasons, almost abandoned her and let Paris drown because she wouldn’t tell him a secret that wasn’t hers to tell, and just generally all the other things he did????

Ugh, I don’t wanna think about it. Let’s just move on.

Talking about Ladybug and her rant next, it basically summarizes the whole show in a nutshell, but simultaneously casts a shadow of sorts over “Truth” for people who maybe missed the episode entirely (which is also sort of the show in a nutshell). I mean, Ladybug confirming to the audience that she was genuinely in love and happy with Luka (you can’t watch how depressed she was over the break-up and not think that) was great, but Ladybug’s dialog implies that Luka “hated secrets” and that’s why they broke up, when Luka was more just... hurt that she couldn’t be honest with him, and he didn’t actively hate secrets. Marinette broke up with him because she felt like she had to; because she had to keep ditching and lie to him.

In addition, what she says also hints to the audience that they’ve both held and kissed each other, which not only indicates cowardice on the part of the staff (”yeah this happened but--um--off-screen; we’d still like credit tho plz”), but may perhaps go back to the theory I had about how Adrimi and Lukanette were supposed to last longer in Season 4 but their arcs got cut (based on the Adrimi kiss having supposed to have gone off). This could mean that Ladybug’s statement was originally accurate to canon but the scenes got cut and the scriptwriters just awkwardly left it in, which is made more awkward by the cinema scene in “Truth” that felt like Luka and Marinette were kissing for the first time (again, alluding to the whole, “this entire season has been a draft” thing).

Also, if you think about what that actually means - that Luka and Marinette did have successful dates and kisses but they were off-screen - then all it adds up to is that showing Marinette happy and comfortable was something that the series didn’t deem as “interesting/fun enough” to show, because Marinette being happy isn’t something they want to see; only watching her be miserable, which is exactly what Ladybug says, along with how everything was “almost too simple, too easy,” because Marinette isn’t allowed to have nice things without being jammed through the wringer first.

And... sure, let’s say that Chat Noir thought the movie was genuinely a good idea; let’s assume that it could be a joke, him wanting to flirt, and him believing that it’d make her feel better somehow.

If that’s the case, then where’s the apology when it fails miserably? Ladybug goes from her semi-anxious state at the start of the episode (a little scatterbrained but ultimately just looking for a distraction), to outright enraged by the movie, and then to this upon leaving the cinema.

She just got her heart broken from being forced to break up with a boy she genuinely wanted to be with and there’s not a single, “Okay, maybe coming here was a bad idea, I’m sorry,” (which could’ve been seen as another joke with the audience like “lol no duh Chat Noir” so there’s no excuse not to have it) or, “My bad, that was insensitive of me. I really thought this would’ve helped but I wasn’t thinking about what you would’ve wanted.”

No. The only people Chat apologizes to are the other people at the theater because he’s embarrassed by Ladybug’s reactions, yet he himself feels no remorse for taking her there and has the gall to go on now about how he’s “there for her if she wants to talk.”

Again, it’s no wonder Ladybug doesn’t want to open up to him.

And I’m sorry, I just don’t buy that Marinette suddenly has all this free time. It’s one thing for her to have a little more time now that she’s broken up with her boyfriend (likely avoiding spending time with him altogether now), but “Truth” went out of its way to talk about all of the emergencies she had to deal with and how she doesn’t have any spare time. which is causing her to become forgetful and lose track of certain events (patrols with Chat, dates with Luka, etcetera), yet Marinette spends most of “Gang of Secrets” simply sulking on her bed. It’s so jarring to go from “Truth” where she was doing “too much” (which I called them out on for not describing what the “too much” she was doing was) and now “Gang of Secrets” where she’s not doing anything.

It’s almost like they invented that plot point to break Lukanette up and it served no purpose outside of it.

Furthermore, the scenes of her finally talking to Tikki and then deciding to live as Ladybug does nothing outside of making the plot more predictable, the latter because of the “Alya almost sees Ladybug” moment (an obvious indicator that Marinette is losing control and is struggling to maintain her secret identity due to her emotionally breaking down) and the former because of Tikki herself and what she doesn’t say.

Because, really, think about what actually goes on in the scene. Marinette (eyes rimmed red and filled with unshed tears, as she is for a good chunk of the episode) is venting to Tikki about - yes - her love life, but also that she has to lie to everyone in order to keep her identity a secret. The fact that Tikki focuses solely on the note of Marinette’s love life and not say a word about the identity/lying issue or even consider telling Marinette, “hey, this is clearly too much for you, you should tell someone, I think the benefits outweigh the risks right now,” really proves that the episode tried to avoid the topic altogether to try and make the ending more shocking (which ironically made it more predictable).

So yeah, not only does Tikki’s dialog with Marinette provide nothing except for a line about how she can’t help Marinette with love issues due to kwami not falling in love (alright, I guess aros can’t give good love advice then or have any input whatsoever), but Marinette’s line about lying to everyone being why she can’t pursue Adrien nor Luka is repeated in the very last scene of the episode. The only reason that scene and the scene after exist is because the writers needed Marinette to be emotionally devastated enough to leave for her balcony as Ladybug for the almost-reveal to Alya and so Rose would get close enough to the dollhouse to have an almost-reveal with the Miracle Box, making the scene feel further contrived because the emotional punch of Marinette wanting to live as Ladybug lasts for barely any time at all.

And it could’ve served a purpose, like if Ladybug had genuinely left and Alya finds her goggles and towel, recognizing them from a news story about how Ladybug had gone to the swimming pool after losing her temper at the cinema, which could’ve led to Shadow Moth making the girls believe that Ladybug was no longer heroic and had kidnapped Marinette, or... heck, Ladybug coming back inside would’ve been so much less jarring if she came back because she heard the girls’ voices talking about the dollhouse and had to hurry (but of course, then they’d have to point out the ridiculousness of Ladybug not hearing Alya calling her and the girls not hearing Ladybug literally shouting for Shadow Moth to come fight her, even though the kwami heard the girls calling for Marinette from the balcony).

But instead, the entire scene feels off and unnatural, forcing every part of it in order to get to where Marinette has to snap at the girls to make them leave.

(Oh, by the way, just a little detail to add to the annoyance: they bothered putting Tom and Sabine in the episode when the girls are leaving, clearly saddened by something that happened, and neither parent even bothers to go and check on Marinette to see if she’s upset or just to see what might’ve happened. They’re such a “blink-and-you’ll-miss it” moment in the episode and it’s not like I’m surprised because they’ve done this multiple times by now but really?)

As for the girls themselves... oof, where do I even begin?

Alright, first off is the annoyance that they assume Marinette’s problems relate only to lovesickness. Marinette has been an anxiety-prone mess throughout the entire series, and suddenly now the girls care about Marinette’s love problems on an emotional level rather than “we’ll meddle sometimes unless we don’t feel like it and be wholly inconsistent on how much we push for it.”? It’s not that I don’t see how they came to the conclusion (hearing that Luka and Marinette broke up and now seeing Marinette is depressed, it checks out), but considering they bothered noting that Marinette hadn’t told them anything, one would think they’d come to the conclusion of, “okay, we haven’t talked to her, we have no idea of what’s going on, maybe we don’t know her as well as we thought then and shouldn’t make guesses.”

Secondly is the “eternal friendship bracelet,” which comes off as a copy of the “Secrets” game from “Syren” extremely manipulative. Mylene goes on to explain that one is supposed to give a secret to the pearl “mentally,” yet when the girls actually show up to see Marinette, they expect to be told the secret directly. I’ve already talked at length about peer pressure and the mental stress Marinette goes through when they mock her and/or meddle for her, but this idea of, “well we all used this friendship bracelet after we mutually agreed to it so now it’s your turn because we said so!” just comes off really bad. I know the episode is going for this idea that their hearts are in the right place, but they’re really not. It feels like they’re the ones in denial and are trying to compensate by forcing Marinette to prove that they’re friends, unable to handle the idea that they might not be as close to her as they thought.

Thirdly, the show acts as if the girl squad are her only friends when we know that’s not true because we’ve seen episodes like “Befana” (the guys in the class), “Reverser” (Marc), “Ikari Gozen” (Kagami), and “Silencer” (Ivan) that all established Marinette having more friends than just them, but for the sake of “drama” and the depressing line of, “at least I don’t have any more friends to lie to,” the episode just pretends like Marinette’s friends are limited to Luka (who she had to break up with) and the girl squad (who she forced to leave and refuse the friendship of).

Fourthly is the actual set-up and the sheer grossness of it all. The girls call Marinette and leave a message about how they much they love her and how she can talk to them “where and when” she wants, and then - immediately afterwards - decide that they’re going to go straight to Marinette’s house completely unannounced, go into her room completely unannounced (not even knocking, by the way), and when Marinette begs them to leave, Alya basically tells her that she’s overreacting. When Marinette demands that they leave, Alya refuses and makes demands right back that they won’t leave until she tells them what’s wrong.

So much for “where and when” she wanted, right? It’s already one thing for the girls to invade Marinette’s privacy and demand/guilt-trip answers out of her, but it’s another thing to give the illusion of respecting her feelings and personal space only to actively plan to go back on it. I can’t tell if it’s a bad draft that they didn’t catch in quality check (you know, the quality check that they definitely don’t have) or just an intentional way to make them seem more sympathetic so Marinette looks worse for driving them out, but either way, it’s awful and I hate it. I would’ve rather had them be all in on invading Marinette’s privacy and learn a lesson in the end than outright contradict themselves.

There are also little nitpicks I could make (like Juleka’s constant mumbling despite Luka’s crush on Marinette playing a role in the episode, Horrificator getting sidelined due to being mute, and the girls’ akumatization ultimately being for spectacle and nothing else, serving no purpose to the plot and being furthered by the fact that Timebreaker goes after Marinette despite it being a bad idea and Reflekta’s power clearly not lining up with any sort of plan), but the real issue issue here comes down to the fact that these are Marinette’s so-called “friends” and the episode refuses to address their actual issues.

Alix, who is known for making rude comments at Marinette (”Gigantitan,” “Chat Blanc,” “Miraculous New York”) and then gives mixed messages by going along with meddling anyway.

Mylene, who is the closest thing to a background character in the girl squad but nevertheless finds her way into being definite voice against Marinette in “Chameleon.”

Juleka, who blamed Marinette for things she didn’t do in “Reflekdoll” and got huffy with her until Marinette apologized for said things.

Rose, who outright screamed at Marinette in “Chat Blanc” over a freaking stuffed animal, which pressured Marinette enough that she snuck into Adrien’s room to deliver her gift which nearly led to the end of the world.

And, of course, Alya; freaking Alya. I don’t even have to go into every single thing she’s ever done because I have a history of giving her absolutely no mercy.

...But let’s go through some anyway because I want to.

“Copycat” - Alya gives Marinette a script and tells her to memorize it, then immediately pushes the “call” button when Marinette hesitates after Marinette had just told Alya that she’s awful at improv.

“Darkblade” - Alya takes a jab at Marinette when Marinette says that she’s too busy to be class representative, implying that Alya thinks that Marinette does absolutely nothing with her time.

“Gamer” - Alya is busy recording the gaming competition when she and Marinette were supposed to be researching for a term paper. Alya then scolds Marinette for wanting to use the competition to get close to Adrien only to do a 180 and put up a fight about it when Marinette decides to quit.

“Animan” and how “The Puppeteer 2″ follows up on it - oh, I’m not going to touch that particular point right now, but keep those in the back of your mind, because I am going to absolutely go off later

“Simon Says” - Similarly to Marinette’s parents, Alya gives zero damns about whatever might be going on in Marinette’s life that's causing her to miss classes.

"Despair Bear” - Alya laughs at Marinette being forced to kiss Chloe’s cheek and then outright compares Marinette to Chloe after knocking Chloe multiple times during the episode (sure, just compare your “best friend” to her multi-year bully, how "hilarious” of you).

“Gigantitan” - Alya has no qualms about mocking Marinette’s over her failures, even if it embarrasses her and she’s been through enough already.

“Frozer” - Alya tries to find ways for Marinette to prevent herself from third-wheeling for Adrien, but when Marinette tries to show character growth by wanting to go, Alya gets into a shouting match with the other girls over how Marinette has “liked Adrien forever and isn’t going to give up now”.

“Catalyst” - Alya claims that Marinette is only salty over Lila out of jealousy when “Frozer” exists and literally is the prime evidence of Adrien liking another girl and Marinette telling Alya outright and very genuinely that she’s not jealous.

“Chameleon” - Alya doesn’t care about her best friend sitting in the back by herself while Alya herself get to sit next to her boyfriend and everyone else in general gets to sit where they want (Alya even acting confused at the mere suggestion that she’d tried to engineer things to let Marinette sit next to Adrien), then not only believes Lila over Marinette but contradicts herself twice (asking Marinette for proof when she has none herself, then claiming that she wouldn’t let her best friend sit by herself).

“Christmaster” - Alya leaves Marinette to babysit so she and Nino can go out on a date.

“Desperada” - Alya suddenly is for Lukanette for literally one episode and doesn’t know how/doesn’t even try to cover for Marinette’s Adrien blindness despite mocking her for multiple seasons over it.

“Reflekdoll” - Alya invites Adrien to something that’s crucial for Marinette to focus on after Marinette has already told her not to and continues meddling to the point where it gets Juleka akumatized (she also doesn’t get punished for it and the blame gets thrown onto Marinette).

“The Puppeteer 2″ - Alya pushes her luck with Nathalie to try and get Marinette to come with her, Nino, Adrien, and Manon to the museum, then traps Marinette in a room with Adrien to force her to spent alone time with him, even abandoning and forgetting about the child that she offered to watch for Marinette so she and her boyfriend can go off alone.

“Miraculous New York” - Alya is told directly by Marinette that she needs help seeing Adrien as a friend, which leads Alya to do the exact opposite throughout the entire special, at one point shouting at Marinette and pressuring her to chase after a car, in the rain, while there’s a supervillain rampaging through Paris, and all of this right after the scheme that Alya had set up caused both Marinette and Adrien to go missing.

And just saying, as Marinette’s supposed “best friend,” Alya sure doesn’t know how to handle her. It was acceptable back in “The Bubbler” when she asked Marinette about signing the gift too late and the same goes for “Dark Cupid,” but by the time we get to late Season 2/3 and Alya refuses to learn Marinette’s weak spots (unless it’s to mock her) and adjust accordingly (like if she’d already made sure the gift was signed in “Chat Blanc,” which would’ve prevented Adrien seeing Ladybug at all due to the time difference), it starts getting infuriating.

A best friend is supposed to cover for their friend’s weaknesses. Alya doesn’t do that; she meddles and often drives Marinette’s anxiety even further up a wall with absolutely no consideration for Marinette’s feelings (”Dark Cupid,” “The Puppeteer 2,” “Reflekdoll,” “Miraculous New York”).

And here, she and the other girls are rewarded for it. Luka actively resisted his akumatization whereas the girls gave in immediately, yet Marinette still opens up to them in the end, likely because they had pressured her and made her feel bad for the secrets she was keeping while Luka was willing to actually wait for her to be ready to talk to him. I can’t put into words how frustrating it is watching these girls trample all over Marinette’s feelings, not have their worst actions called out, and then jump cut post-deakumatization to Marinette telling them exactly what they wanted to know about her love life.

You know what this entire episode is really missing, outside of a coherent plot, properly-paced development, and a basic understanding of rewarding a character for things they’ve held firmly to?

It’s missing the apology. Chat Noir apologizes to a bunch of moviegoers and Rose apologizes for the broken dollhouse, but no one apologizes to Marinette for how they treated her, especially not the “friends” who got rewarded in the end.

“Sorry, we shouldn’t have told you that we’d respect your feelings and then showed up unannounced to make you talk about them.”

“We’re sorry we came into your room and invaded your privacy. You were right to be mad at us.”

“Oh my gosh, Marinette, we got akumatized and we’re so sorry for literally all five of us going after you and probably scaring the living daylights out of you.”

And as if that wasn’t enough, guess what else this is missing? It’s kind of important and brought up directly in the episode, yet the episode simultaneously goes out of its way not to bring it up again.

It’s the reason why Marinette didn’t tell the girls about her relationship with Luka. It’s not there - it’s missing - and the girls never try to pursue the subject. They talk about how Marinette didn’t tell them but don’t think for a second that maybe it’s them who have failed as friends. Instead, they don’t guess anything about why Marinette wouldn’t tell them (which is already strange considering how much they already assume about her) and jump straight to, “well clearly we just need to push for her to talk to us.”

Gonna just go out on a limb here and say that maybe - just maybe - Marinette didn’t tell them because they are habitually pushy in everything they do.

Because they would’ve teased her relentlessly about, “ohhhh you’ve got eyes for Luka? what about Aaaaaadrien~? aren’t you sooo tooorn between both of these cute guys?”

Because they would’ve meddled to force her and Luka together and gotten on her case when/if she ever had to bail on him.

Because their intrusion on her feelings for Adrien had caused her nothing but problems and she just wanted to be with Luka in peace without them forcing their way into things.

Because--hey, wild thought--maybe they’re not really friends???

But the episode completely avoids it, because that would’ve meant addressing it; it would’ve meant acknowledging that they messed up, which - fun fact - they actually don’t do in the episode.

They invaded Marinette’s privacy, insisted that she tell them how she feels (not about them of course because that would imply that they felt like they screwed up), and in the end it’s Marinette who gives them exactly what they asked of her, and the closest thing we get to acknowledging anything is Alix telling her/joking with her that they’ll help her confess to whoever she likes as soon as she tells them she’s ready.

That’s not an apology. That’s not an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Even when the five of them are about to get akumatized, it’s not a circle of them saying, “here’s how I screwed up, I could’ve done better but I didn’t and I lost Marinette because of it.”

No. It’s just them talking about how sad the situation is. Mylene has the closest thing to remorse in saying, “I hoped it would work,” but where does it go? A grand total of nowhere, especially because Marinette still takes the bracelet in the end instead of the girls mutually deciding, “okay, maybe the bracelet was a bad idea; how about we all agree on making something together instead, no requirements attached?”

And then the episode has the gall to act as if Alya has gone through character growth when all they did was put Alya through the same thing that Chloe did. I’ll explain that last bit momentarily, but first let’s talk about the whole “growth” thing.

Because there’s no apology or acknowledgement of wrongdoing, all Alya does when she’s finally alone with Marinette is do a 180 from where she was at the start of the episode, going from, “friends have to tell each other everything,” to, “hey, if you don’t want to tell me, then that’s your right.”

The crucial part that’s supposed to go in the middle is missing. Instead of acknowledging her failures, Alya just cuts straight to “””being a better friend,”““ but storytelling doesn’t work that way.

It literally would have taken zero effort to fit an acknowledgement into that scene. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I get that now. All my meddling’s done is hurt you and I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me.”

In a world where Marinette has to apologize for everything, has to learn lessons and suffer because the narrative says so, I will not accept anything less from other characters who are trying to develop and improve. That’s not fair to Marinette, nor has it ever been.

Instead of properly developing Alya, the show does whatever it can to get its audience to root for her as Marinette’s “best friend” (ugh) without having to put in the effort of admitting that Alya hasn’t been Marinette’s “best” friend.

Remember when I brought up Chloe? Yeah, “Malediktator” did a similar thing, showing Chloe doing something awful, then being sad (while not actually acknowledging the thing she did wrong), and in the end she was rewarded with a miraculous prematurely.

One show of character from Chloe and Marinette gave her a miraculous. One show of character from Alya and Marinette told her that she was Ladybug.

(Also, for the record, I think Chloe is far worse than Alya character-wise and I’m not comparing their characters; this is just the simplest comparison I can draw here from a narrative standpoint.)

“Miraculer” is another apt comparison, perhaps even more so. Chloe got Hawk Moth in her head after an akuma landed in her photo of her and Ladybug, but Chloe resisted and fought back, ultimately forcing the akuma out of her and freeing herself from Hawk Moth’s control.

But it wasn’t to develop her character; no, it was to convince the audience of Chloe and Sabrina’s friendship so they’d feel something during Sabrina’s happy flashbacks, then lay the foundation of tricking viewers into believing that Chloe might not go to Hawk Moth’s side.

At the end of the day, it was doing something that’s “never been done before” in order for the character to earn brownie points for something that the writers can just have them do because willpower is an easy thing to just write in. “Gang of Secrets” does the exact same thing when Lady Wifi breaks free from Shadow Moth, with Ladybug even hammering it home by talking about how no one’s ever done it before.

And the pacing is - again - awful. Not only is Ladybug banking on this working when she herself says that it’s never been done, but the conversation between her and Lady Wifi where Ladybug tries to convince her doesn’t even take a minute.

It also has nothing to do with Marinette herself; Ladybug relies on Alya’s adoration/friendship with her as Ladybug (you know, after Alya took a photo of LadyNoir kissing and posted it online without Ladybug’s consent, betrayed her by putting information on the LadyBlog that Hawk Moth was able to take advantage of, and is the only hero outside of Chloe to resist returning a miraculous) in order to break from Hawk Moth’s control, because talking about Marinette with Lady Wifi didn’t even work.

(Ladybug also uses her yoyo as a portal to the Miracle Box when this has never been pre-established to be a thing despite Ladybug acting as if she knew it was; further proof that this episode was rushed.)

And of course talking about Marinette didn’t work, because that would’ve meant convincing Alya that her reason for getting akumatized was “wrong” and the episode didn’t want to do that. It didn’t want someone else actually learning something and feeling bad; surely, this is just Alya being manipulated by Shadow Moth and having the power to break free because Ladybug “needs Rena Rouge” and not because Lady Wifi and her friends are chasing after their supposed best friend and that’s--you know--wrong???

Rena Rouge’s reappearance is also yet another thing the episode refuses to address because it avoids the topic of “but my identity--”. At least “Heart Hunter” had the tact to have Kagami question why Ladybug was giving her the dragon again, but “Gang of Secrets” treads as lightly as possible on any discussion of identities outside of Marinette saying that she can’t, as if it were Marinette who made the choice of concealing her identity and not the basic idea of heroing that has been stressed over and over for the whole show.

Even Plagg of all kwami stated back in “Origins” that no one is supposed to know about secret identities, a rule that continues becoming flaky and muddled with each passing season, almost like they kept attempting to retcon and make the audience dulled to the idea so that the reveal in “Gang of Secrets” would be more acceptable.

But now, with the way they did it and how they don’t even have Tikki comment on the matter, it once again has it look like they’re making it - say it with me, everyone - Marinette’s fault.

Alya says that Marinette has a choice in telling her secret, Marinette insists that she doesn’t and goes on and on about how it’ll change everything, and then just... tells Alya her secret in the end.

And remember all the way back in Season 2? “Sapotis”?

Alya: What were you saying about her secret identity?

Marinette: Ladybug needs it to protect her family and friends. Otherwise the villains could use them to get to her.

Alya: Well, if I knew who Ladybug really was, I'd keep it a secret. I would even help her! Like say, if you were Ladybug, I'd cover for you — when you needed to transform in school, go fight the "baddies", you know?

Marinette: Oh yeah? Well, if I was Ladybug I wouldn't even tell you, to protect you from the "baddies", you know?

Alya: You serious? If I was Ladybug, I'd totally tell you! Because I tell my best friend everything.

And now here we are in “Gang of Secrets,” as if the narrative is saying, “See, Marinette? Alya was right all along, you were just being ridiculous and making yourself suffer for no reason!”

Yet Marinette had a right to keep her secrets. When Alya and Nino learned each other’s identities, Alya took a hit for Nino in “Catalyst” and both of them fell to Scarlet Moth’s akumas. Chloe was a mess and a half because of Hawk Moth knowing her identity. Fu had told Marinette that her miraculous would get taken if she and Chat Noir learned each other’s identities.

The only ones who received no consequences due to someone knowing their identity were Pegase (who Chat Noir and Markov knew), Ryuko (who Chat Noir, Ikari Gozen, and Hawk Moth knew), and Viperion (who Adrien knew). “Chat Blanc” also exists where Marinette got the impression that people discovering her identity would be a disaster, and even all the way back in “Lady Wifi” insisted that not telling anyone her identity was “listening to her head and not her heart,” and the narrative has relentlessly humiliated her for going with her heart, so yeah, probably for the best.

I hate that the episode avoids talking about anything identity-related outside of what comes out of Marinette’s mouth to make it appear like it was her choice all along. I hate that they had Tikki fixate on Marinette’s love problems instead of having her actually support Marinette and admit that Marinette should tell someone before she has a mental breakdown. I hate that the episode inserts Rena Rouge into the plot as if to brush all identity issues away so as to make Marinette’s identity reveal seem less jarring.

Now, of course I’m glad Marinette told someone. Of course I want her to get love and support from someone. Of course I think the benefits outweigh the risks, or I wouldn’t have written multiple fix-its where her identity gets revealed in some way or someone already knows.

But I didn’t want it to be Alya, because I knew how they’d do it. I knew they’d do it wrong and I knew that they wouldn’t have the courage to address Alya’s issues properly.

Those familiar with my blog will know that I’d been taking negative predictions for future seasons for a while and adding them to cards whenever they were proven right. Does anyone remember the Season 4 predictions that were proven correct for “Gang of Secrets,” specifically these ones?

- “Alya will suddenly be portrayed as a good/worthy friend to Marinette in/if there's an episode where Marinette tells her that she's Ladybug”

- “Alya resisting Shadow Moth/fighting back against him will be used to excuse telling Alya Marinette's secret identity“

- “Alya will know that Marinette is Ladybug first because "BFFs" despite being one of the worst candidates for it“

- “The secret that broke Lukanette up will be resolved in episode 3 when Marinette tells Alya“

Each and every one of those were mine, because I knew that whether Season 4 had a proper chronological order or not, the writers would not have the guts to develop Alya first and then have Marinette tell her in a future episode after Alya has properly earned it.

I knew that they wouldn’t take time to develop Alya. I knew that they would have Alya resist Shadow Moth to make Alya look “worthy” of the secret. I knew that Alya would swoop in during the last minute and a half of an episode, insisting that Marinette “didn’t have to tell her anything” when Alya had been pushy and insistent for the entire rest of the episode and the whole series in general, and would ultimately be rewarded with the big secret simply because she’s “the best friend” and that’s it.

The Alya at the end of the episode isn’t the Alya I’ve known for the entire rest of the series before this, or at the very least they turned her into an Alya I don’t recognize.

Alya claims during the ending scene that she knows that Marinette is hiding something beyond her love problems because she - as a reporter and “her best friend” - can sense such things, and all I’m left wondering is

w h e r e ?

Where and when has Alya been suspicious or worried about Marinette keeping a secret from her? What, back in “The Pharoah” where she didn’t immediately disregard Marinette for the role of Ladybug, or “Simon Says” where she vaguely teased Marinette about having a double life, both Season 1 episodes?

Where was Alya in “Truth” saying that she didn’t know Marinette’s secret but knew that she was keeping one? Where was Alya anywhere in Season 3 being concerned that Marinette hasn’t told her something? Where was this “supposedly very observant” Alya when Marinette needed her to out Lila because Lila got her expelled--oh wait, Alya “observed” that Lila did nothing and Marinette was just jealous.

What, is it only now that Alya suddenly “knows” that Marinette is hiding something else? Now, after Alya has already not known that Marinette was literally dating someone, even when Alya had multiples pictures of Marinette and said someone giving each other heart eyes and saw Marinette leaving school with said someone riding on the same bike together, you know, like normal, typical, average friends would?

Where’s the line where Alya acknowledges the problem? Where’s Alya sitting down with Marinette and admitting, “hey, I’m sorry I haven’t noticed this stuff, but I promise I’ll do better starting right now, and that’s how I know now that you’re hiding something else, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that it’s been hurting you”?

I can’t tell you where it is, but I can say that it’s certainly not in this episode. 60% of the episode features the Alya we knew from the rest of the series and then switches her out the second she’s de-akumatized for another Alya who hasn’t done anything that the old one has because she pretends like it didn’t happen.

You know how I know? Because of this absolute gut punch of a line that showed that the series wanted to handwave everything away.

“I know how to keep a secret.”

...Really? Does she now? Well, I hope everyone remembered my point about “Animan” and “The Puppeteer 2,” because I’m bringing it right back.

Considering that “Truth” has been burned into all of our memories, we all definitely remember when Truth shoots Alya and questions her on Marinette’s secret, to which Alya states that Marinette’s secret is, “She’s in love with Adrien Agreste.” Now, at the time of Season 4′s airing, this is very much not a secret, as most characters already knew about Marinette’s crush, to the point where it’d been broadcast on television during Season 2.

But do you know when it was actually a secret? Back in Season 1, specifically in the episode “Animan” where Alya told Nino.

And not only did she tell Nino, but she lied to Marinette by claiming that she didn’t, acting as if Nino knew that Marinette had a crush but didn’t know who she was crushing on, which is then directly proven false as Nino accidentally implies that he does know who it is. This is also after Alya had gotten on Marinette’s case for trying to set her up with Nino, and then she had the gall to say that she wouldn’t spill Marinette’s secret because she, and I quote, “doesn't go around making decisions for other people,“ a statement that is directly contradicted by this little thing known as everything Alya has ever said and done in the entire series.

And while Marinette meddling in Alya’s love life actually ended up working out for Alya, Alya meddling in Marinette’s by telling Nino who Marinette is crushing on comes back to bite Marinette - not Alya (because of course) - in the infamous episode of “The Puppeteer 2,” where Marinette realizes that Alya really did tell Nino that she was crushing on Adrien.

Marinette: You told me you wouldn't tell Nino!

Alya: I haven't told him. Right, Nino? I didn't tell you anything. (elbows him)

Nino: She didn't tell me. And besides, I told her I wouldn't tell.

Then, when she’s called out on it, Alya lies again, and shamelessly so.

Marinette: Why did you tell Nino everything? You promised you wouldn't!

Alya: I didn't, I swear! Besides, even if I had told him everything, he would still be clueless. Ugh, who cares anyway? I've set everything up with Nino, who doesn't know a thing, so you can finally pour your heart out to Adrien, girl!

And now, here we are one season later - and not even half of a season if you go by production code order - and Alya claims that she knows how to keep a secret.

No. No, she does not. In fact, she does even worse because she won’t even admit when she’s spilled said secret. I absolutely refuse to accept that Alya is “worthy” or “deserving” of learning that Marinette is Ladybug when she couldn’t even keep a basic secret like who her friend was crushing on.

And no, it didn’t matter that Nino was her boyfriend, or that maybe she thought it would work out because Nino was friends with Adrien. By that logic, Alya would tell Adrien that Marinette is Ladybug if she heard that Ladybug is who Adrien was crushing on and we all know how that would’ve gone.

Marinette has a right to tell her secret to whoever she wants and I’m glad that a burden has been lifted from her, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy that it’s Alya. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy that, after so many moments of Alya disrespecting Marinette’s feelings, she is the one who gets to hear the big secret that the fandom has been waiting for someone to find out about since the very start of the series.

Luka said it best in “Truth” that the truth is meant to be shared, not taken by force, but Marinette was forced to tell Alya by the narrative because Alya is her supposed “best friend.” It pushed Marinette to her breaking point, forced her to break up with the guy who has respected her agency and feelings since the day they met, and gave her a version of her “best friend” with the same name and face but with none of the responsibility from previous events so that said version was there at the right time and the right place to hear what had to be heard.

And in the end, I end up feeling nothing. Marinette doesn’t even have a “Marinette” reaction to saying it as one would expect; for her to blurt it out and then immediately start panicking until Alya hugs her to calm her down. Instead, Marinette just says it and stares silently at Alya - after blabbing this huge, very big deal of a secret - until Alya goes in for a hug (the “happy/hopeful” ending of which is why I feel like this episode also gets less flak, as the previous two ended off rather depressing/upsetting).

It’s off. Everything is off. The pacing, the delivery, and the logic that the episode uses. The emotion in Marinette’s voice when she’s rambling about how hard it is to keep her secret is so powerful, but then the ending hits and she just says it, breaking the momentum they had going. They pulled the card of Alya walking away too soon when they could’ve saved it, having Marinette go quiet and letting Alya take a few steps away in order to let the moment build before Marinette finally blurts out the secret she’s been painfully holding in.

But they didn’t, and I’m so many levels of dissatisfied. I wasn’t against the idea of Alya learning Marinette’s secret at some point (though honestly, Alix would’ve been a better pick considering that Bunnyx will know eventually anyway, and I say that not even liking Alix!), but not now; not when Alya had so much to work towards.

And now what? What happens now? Now Alya will turn against Lila, not because she learned to have faith and believe in Marinette, but because Marinette is Ladybug, which disproves Lila’s ultimate lie that got Alya’s attention in the first place? Now Alya will be supportive and less teasing/mocking whenever Marinette will be late, not because she understands that Marinette isn’t perfect and has so many other things on her mind, but because she’s Ladybug and has “hero stuff” to take care of? Now Alya will be careful about what she puts on the LadyBlog, not because she respected Ladybug and what Ladybug would want, but because Ladybug is now her best friend and that changes everything?

Because now, Alya has a free pass to all of that, the show making her spontaneously “developed” now so they won’t have to develop her later, and disappointing doesn’t even begin to describe it.

[shunkani]

Chapter 132 Levi/Hange Analysis

Summary: An attempt to explain the sentence in chapter 132

Levi: I see your one sided love with Titans still goes unrequited, four-eyes.

Hange: ...We’ll be getting along soon enough.　（…すぐに仲良くなるさ）

Disclaimer: this is just interpretation and not meant to be taken as official proof of romance between Levi and Hange in Attack on Titan. This is theory and nothing else. I’ve read multiple tweets and essays to compile my own thoughts.

I personally do not have any qualms with other ships, and this essay doesn’t discredit other Hange or Levi CP’s. Also, sorry but this essay has no pictures. 

Lesson_____

A quick Japanese lesson (and language comprehension); I will try to make it painless. I make no assumption on the reader’s Japanese level/English grammar understanding and will be talking about it as is.

When は is combined with another particle, it puts emphasis in a way such as English has intonation. Since Japanese does not stress tone (like how one says the words sarcastically/meaningfully/sadly/cheekily) it uses particles to do this job.

So, when Levi says, “相変わらず巨人とは片思いのままだったなクソメガネ“

It means literally, “As always, still an unrequited love with Titans, four-eyes.”

Naturally, “Your love for Titans is one-sided, as usual, four-eyes.”

In Japanese, using には or とは creates a third, invisible option that is outside of the realm of the sentence.

When you use に or と or even は by itself, it creates a one dimensional statement. When used with other particles combined with は it creates another, outside dimension to the sentence. A third suggestion or comparison. は can be used as a comparative or stress particle as well as a topic marker.

quick example.

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼と図書館に行かなかった.（ Forward statement. It is as it is. ）

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼とは図書館に行かなかった （Implying I went there with someone else, but not him. ）

Just like you’d expect, English speakers understand the implications of stressing “him.” Just as Japanese speakers understand the implications of とは etc. If we stressed library(図書館には）instead of “boy” (彼とは）then it’s implication is that we didn’t go to the library with him, but maybe somewhere else. I hope this is clear. 

____

Okay, on with the analyses. Just a note again, but I’ve naturalized any Japanese so that it’s not literal, but the meaning is the same so it’s easier to comprehend for native English speakers. I’ve changed “I” to “we” considering I formatted to fit essays.

From  ストリキーネさん’s essay

Like others have said, Levi’s words feel like his true confession. Whether it’s romantic or not, it’s up in the air, but while making small talk and commenting about his long time comrade in arms, it seems like this comment is loaded with unlabeled feelings, like “You gross me out, but I feel something special for you and I get you.”

It feels natural to say “You still have unrequited love for Titans.” right after the banter of Hange and Pieck’s exchange.  {note: 巨人に片思いのままだな is using に here, not とは, so it feels natural to say に）

So why did he use “とは” and not ”に”？

If there’s official announcement that say’s there’s no meaning to it, or that it’ll be corrected in the official volume, then this sentence will be meaningless. But if it’s intentional or even unconscious decision, we get the impression that he is recalling a third person (”me” ie Levi) among Hange and the Titans. 

 Moreover, hearing “four eyes” was unexpected and we can only imagine it was surprising for Hange too. Since we might have never expected that we’d hear “four eyes” in the original manga again, it’s perplexing, but feels filled with something like nostalgia. 

With Hange taking over as commander and the world rapidly changing, we get the feeling that there’s a distance between them, at least from what is shown to us from the story. 

Because of this short exchange about Titans, all at once we are brought back to “An eccentric, Titan-loving section commander,” and “Captain who’s fond of four-eyes,” and it’s moving. 

There’s a little pause (note: talking about the “...” before Hange starts talking) at the end of Levi’s lines and the start of Hange’s dialogue. One wonders if it couldn’t be a mix between surprise and relief on Hange’s end. 

Also, as many others have said, Levi is answering Hange’s “I’d prefer if we live here together,” from the forest, to the best that he can. There was no reason to look back at that scene in relation to this because Levi seemed to have brushed off Hange’s shocking statement, but since everyone was referencing that scene, a second re-examination was in order. (Note, the author actually said something a little more personal, so I condensed it to match a more essay-like statement)

Levi could have been surprised.

Someone who he’s known for a long time, and supported each other, and can admit that (Hange) can be troublesome sometimes, but also they hit it off well, yet each of their own responsibilities have become heavier and the world is in this state... in a situation like this, when suddenly alone together in a quiet forest, he might think Hange has stopped thinking if seriously suggesting to run away and saying things like “let’s live together.”

Under circumstances like this, if it were us, we’d likely want to do it, but remember we have responsibilities, maybe we don’t know what the other person feels, perhaps we’d rather we never heard it, so we pretend not to. In Levi’s case, perhaps pretend to sleep (pretending to not be able to hear it) or when he wakes up, change the subject completely.  

It’s unlikely that Levi could give an answer on the spot, and would want time to figure it out. 

(There’s more to the essay but it’s thoughts on relationships between people and some other things that don’t apply to the quote)

ーーーーー

Notes concluded from various twitter surfing:

Many JP fans think Levi’s statement alluded to the forest scene. It’s like his clumsy answer to Hange’s proposal, since he didn’t give a direct answer. Actually the essay above felt his answer was cold and ignored Hange. But Hange doesn’t seem displeased about it. 

As many have said, Hange and Levi are definitely “adults” in this world. They both understand it’s not feasible to do the things they want to do, because their duties supersede that. Hange carries the immense duty of commander, and both hold the responsibility to stop Eren or fight for humanity as a whole. 

It’s rather evident to me, even as an ordinary reader, that Levi did not want Hange to go. In fact, Hange says, 行かせて, “let me go.” and anticipated Levi would try to stop Hange. Mind you, it’s not “release me” but “I have to do this, so don’t stop me.” It took him three panels, focused on his dead-like eyes to finally say “Dedicate your heart,” something he’s apparently never said before. To me, “Dedicate your heart” is a self-sacrificing quote when applied to the Survey Corps. Pretty much “go in bravely, and don’t expect to come back.” Levi is a “Live and come back’ type. The strange thing is that Levi puts his hand on Hange and says it.. in Hange’s place..? It’s a salute before battle, but here it feels like a gentle sentence. Why it was delivered that way? I hope that Isayama will answer these questions in future interviews. 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Another thing, Levi says みててくれ to Hange, a now deceased person. Levi has never asked anything from the dead. He’s mentioned fulfilling his promise to Erwin about killing Zeke, but some have found it strange for Levi to ask Hange to “Watch me (kill Zeke.”) (edit: the point is that Levi asked Hange to keep watching him, so it seems that his promises and goals may have changed)

One user said something pretty sad. “For Levi, I think Hange is treated as a MIA. Even if there’s no chance of survival, if Levi looks at Hange’s death, Hange has ended for him right there. So since Hange hasn’t ended, he said “ watch out for me.” That’s the reason why Levi, who’s looked at dead soldiers in the eye, didn’t look at Hange.”

It’s simply, Levi didn’t say “Rest in peace,” or “Goodnight.” but “See ya, Hange. Keep looking out for me.” 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Going back to the quote about Titans, the summary is, that in Japanese, Levi’s speech seems incredibly nuanced because he uses language that suggests that Hange and him have come to a mutual feeling, and it’s simply by stating “with Titans” (but there’s a mutual love with me). That’s why the above essay questions if this isn’t a misprint or mistake, or perhaps it’s nothing at all. (I want to point out, that one user suggested it could refer to Eren, but it seems unlikely) 

This is his “answer.” And Hange says...”...We’ll get along soon enough.” 

There’s a “...” before Hange says that, indicating a pause, whether out of surprise by being called “four-eyes”, or carefully thinking on how to respond to “とは” 

Some other notes before I close this up, I thought this was a nice thought on LeviHan:

Hange was introduced while talking and having contact with Levi and Hange exited while talking and having contact with Levi. Really, Hange’s story started and ended with Levi. 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I apologize if this seems everywhere, I’m not particularly fond of writing, but for Hange’s last chapter, I feel like English speakers should get in on what Japanese levihan fans were saying. 

終わり

[fangirlovestuff]

All’s Well that Ends Well - Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

a/n - hello lovely people!! i wasn’t gonna write another part for this because i didn’t really want to venture into the future with this series since i like the ending i have in water under the bridge, BUT i got this lovely ask and it was an amazing idea and i’m so happy / shocked that people still remember this so here’s another part! i hope you enjoy<3

Summary: a collection of moments in your journey, from Wanda’s eyes. (not moments that appeared in the previous parts!)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: i’m pretty sure none. maybe the faintest alluding to smut you have ever seen but i don’t even know if that counts. also a smidge of angst but not really

read the previous parts: Silver Lining || Water Under The Bridge

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Wanda was walking through the long corridors of the compound, a frown on her face, a product of the mission she just came back from. They made it work, but things definitely weren't ideal for a while there. She expected Cap would go over that in the debriefing, the one she was currently making her way to.

Ugh. She liked Steve, appreciated his professional opinion, considered him a friend, most times. But damn it, can't the debriefing wait until she had something to eat, had a shower, slept?

Apparently not, she scowled as she quickened her steps. The last thing she wanted was to be late for this and get lectured by Steve. More than she's already going to be considering how the mission went.

She felt like banging her head against a wall.

Suddenly, she heard a sweet laugh. "No! The Black Widow herself is addicted to Pop Tarts? Well, that certainly makes me feel better about myself," the voice giggled.

Curious, since she didn't recognize who it was, she couldn't resist sticking her head into the room from which she heard the sounds.

"I'm glad, but it's a secret, so shhhh," Natasha smiled that half-smile half-smirk of hers, the fondness evident in her voice as she put her finger to her plush lips to imply silence. Next to her stood the most beautiful woman Wanda has ever laid eyes on. You were standing next to the black widow, who was considered a symbol for beauty and grace, yet Wanda found herself unable to take her eyes of off you.

"Oh, hi!" you smiled once you saw someone had entered the room.

"Hey," Wanda smiled timidly as she opened the door a bit wider.

"Wanda," Natasha smiled at her. To the untrained eye, she seemed completely normal, just as she did a moment ago, but Wanda thought she could see the faintest hint of surprised irritation in her eyes. Natasha introduced the two of you, and Wanda's grin went involuntarily wider when you shook her hand warmly.

"Lovely to meet you," you grinned.

"Likewise. Natasha, I thought you'd like to know we all came back from the mission, Carol included," she raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Carol?" you asked. "Oh! Captain Marvel? Oh my god, Captain Marvel's here?" your eyes went almost comically wide as you connected the dots.

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled. "She is. But she's gonna be a bit occupied for the next hour or so, since Steve insisted we do a debriefing now, which is just where I should be going if I don't wanna be late. I'll see you around," she said in what she hoped was a friendly tone and not too high pitched.

As she walked to the meeting room, even faster than she was walking before, her mind wandered to you. You looked so… energized. God, she wished that was her. She sighed and accepted her fate, entering the room.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Wanda!" Wanda heard you calling after her a few days after you got to the compound. She was just on her way to the training room, but he figured talking to you for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. If she could keep her mouth shut about her little crush, that is.

"What's up?" she turned around, waiting for you to catch up to her.

"Well, I just saw you and I figured I'd say hi," you smiled, "trying to get to know everyone and such. How are you?"

"I'm great! How are you? I mean, how's settling in and all? I know from experience that can be a little daunting," Wanda smiled sympathetically.

"I guess," you giggled, and Wanda really hoped she was only giving you internal heart eyes and not external ones. "but so far so good. I mean, everyone's just so nice. Just the other day Carol offered to help me train. Oh my god, I still can't believe I'm on first name basis with Captain Marvel!" you laughed.

Wanda hoped her disappointment didn't show on her face. "That's great!"

"Yeah, it's really awesome. Anyways, I'm sure you have better things to do, so um, I'll leave you to it," you said, that gorgeous smile never leaving your face.

Which was unfair really, since it definitely made Wanda's brain cells leave her head. Maybe that's why the next thing she said was, "Oh well, not really, I was going to go train for a while, but if you want maybe you could come with me. I'm no Carol but I'm not that bad either," she chuckled.

"Really?" your eyes lit up.

Needless to say, Wanda didn't get a lot of training time done that day. She spent most of it staring at you, so she could "um… correct your, uh, technique," as she so elegantly put it when you asked her if she didn't want to train as well.

It wasn't her fault you looked so pretty.

Per your request, she did show you a couple of things using her powers when you were finished. Your squeal of delight when she lifted up a super heavy weight bench made her cheeks blush slightly.

"That's so cool! So, can you like, read my thoughts or something?" you asked.

"I can," she smirked when you gaped at her. "but don't worry, I don't. I made a habit not to look into other people's minds when I don't absolutely have to."

"That's good to know," you grinned at her, your eyes shining with mirth.

She tried to remind herself she didn't stand a chance, she didn't even know if you liked girls, and even if you did she was no Carol or Natasha, but to no avail. No matter how much she repeated it, even after the three of you got together, she couldn't stop herself from falling a little more in love every time she saw you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky and Wanda were an unlikely duo. Pretty much everyone agreed on that. Except for Steve.

"I think you two have more in common than you'd like to admit," he had smiled. When they asked him what he meant, he simply mimed locking his mouth up and throwing the key. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."

They both knew what he meant, of course. The abnormal strength, fighting for the wrong side. They both made their mistakes, grew to be better. They never talked about it, not really. But when a sound made Bucky's jaw clench a certain way, or a mission was especially draining, or Wanda saw something that brought more memories of home than she'd like, they were there for each other. Actions, not words, but they understood.

Right now, Bucky greeted Wanda as she entered the kitchen on a chilly morning.

"So, you hear about the new trouple?" Bucky asked her, handing her a mug of tea he made because he knew she needed it in the mornings.

"Trouple?" Wanda frowned, before sipping her tea and humming gratefully at him.

"Well, like a couple but… three," Bucky chuckled awkwardly. "Tony said that."

"Oh, um… no, I guess I didn't," she shrugged.

He explained that you were dating Nat and Carol. "It took me a minute to register it too, so I get it," he smiled at her expression.

"No, I mean, I totally get it. That was fast," she raised her eyebrows. When he didn't reply, she continued, "I hope they'll end up well. For the team, you know," she shrugged, gulping before taking another sip of her tea.

"Hey," Bucky laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know you liked her."

"Which her?" she quipped back. He just gave her a look and she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah. But I mean, she's with two of the most powerful women in the world. The universe, probably. I can't exactly compete with that," she shrugged helplessly.

"Wanda, you're amazing. I hope you know that," Bucky said, his eyes sincere.

"I guess," she smiled at him.

"Wanna go eat ice cream and watch a sappy movie?"

"You know me so well," she giggled and magicked the fridge open, sending two tubs flying into her hands, as well as two spoons from the drawer.

"Showoff," he scoffed, taking one from her outreached hand.

"You love it," she winked, drawing a chuckle from him.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go watch that movie of yours, young lady."

She laughed and followed him out of the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the breakup, Wanda was getting closer and closer to you. She didn't want to be a rebound, but also… she just couldn't resist. But, her intentions were purely platonic. For now, at least.

At first, you didn't want to talk to her about it. She understood, didn't push. She knew you needed time.

And indeed, after a couple of days, she heard a knock on her door. She used her magic to open it since she was on her bed, going over some files, which she immediately discarded once she saw you, the state you were in. You have clearly been crying, the tear tracks evident on your face, your quiet sniffle reaching her ears.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gesturing for you to come sit down with her.

You sat down and took a deep breath. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling your head to rest on her shoulder. That's what made you break down again. In the comfort of her arms, you felt safe enough to cry, to fall apart.

She started to pull away when she felt your shivers, but stopped when you clung to her tighter, letting your tears flow freely. She just stroked your hair gently, letting you cry as much as you needed, mumbling reassurances.

When you calmed down enough, you raised your head. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, averting your bloodshot eyes from hers.

"No, don't apologize. I'm here," she nudged your shoulder, prompting you to meet her gaze. "What's wrong?"

"I just… I guess it took a couple of days until it felt real. Until I realized…" you cleared your throat. "I- Wanda, I've been dating them for the absolute most of the time I've been an Avenger. What if… what if I don't have a place in the team without them? What if I'm not strong enough without them?"

"Don't think that, not even for a second," she squeezed your shoulder. "You are one of the most powerful people I know. You belong here, in this team. I've seen you fight, and you're incredible. You're strong, you're smart. All of that has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with them. I know losing them may hurt, but that hurt doesn't change who you are."

"Thank you," you said. It wasn't enough, so you wrapped your arms around her, squeezing her tight, hoping she'd understand.

"It's the truth," she said, stern but not harsh.

That night, after you left, with plans to hang out tomorrow, she took a couple of deep breaths, calmed herself down. If she didn't, she was sure she'd go out there and kick the asses of two of her extremely stupid teammates.

Okay, they weren't actually stupid. But at that moment, Wanda was ready to hurt them, only for making you feel like this. Like you needed them. Seeing you like this made her want to blast them both into oblivion.

But you'd be fine, and you certainly didn't need her to interfere in your business. Besides, she got caught up thinking about the smile you gave her before you left.

She'd move planets to see that smile as often as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda smiled when she saw you approaching, your swimsuit wet since you had already jumped in the water. Because of course, Tony had a pool in the compound, and of course, he insisted everyone would come together at least one day a year and "bond". Honestly, the man was a bit of a sap. Not that Wanda minded, if it gave her opportunities for sights like these, she mused as she looked at you above her sunglasses.

"Having fun?" she asked once you were close enough to hear her.

You smiled. "Yeah. But you know what would be even more fun? If my lovely girlfriend will join me in a game of chicken against two annoying super soldiers? Maybe, you know, work your magic?" you batted your eyelashes at her innocently.

"Are you asking me to help you cheat so you can make Steve drop Bucky from his shoulders and you would win?" she chuckled.

"No! I mean, maybe. Ugh, his shoulders are so big Wanda, it's unfair! Bucky has so much more space than I do! Clint can't hold me properly," you grumbled half heartedly at your teammate. "But if I hold you up on my shoulders, and you'd, you know," you gestured in a way that was supposed to be similar to how she uses her magic, but only made her giggle at your antics, "I really think we can win."

"Alright, I'm convinced," Wanda announced, pulling off her sundress and revealing her swimsuit so she can get in the pool. "But only because I'd love to see Bucky's face when he falls into the pool and ruins his hair. Steve wouldn't hear the end of it either," she giggled. "Come on, let's go," she said as she started walking towards the pool.

"Babe?" she turned back to find you staring at her.

"Yeah?" you said, shaking your head a little.

"Are you coming?" she smirked.

"Oh, I dunno, I think I was in the sun for a long time, it's getting kinda hot. Maybe we should go inside, cool down a little, and I could kiss you, and-"

You got cut off by Wanda pressing her lips to yours gently. "Now come on," she smirked when you parted, "we have a pair of super soldier asses to kick."

And you did indeed kick their asses. Even without using her magic, Wanda managed to knock Bucky off with you balancing on one leg and using the other one to kick Steve under the water, making him lose enough of his balance.

You both laughed when Bucky and Steve went out of the water, Bucky complaining about his ruined hair and, "God Steve, I pulled you out of the river and you drop me in the pool?"

"I'm pretty sure you were the reason I ended up in that river in the first place," Steve snarked back. When Bucky opened his mouth to protest, Steve continued, "And I’d fall into that river for you again if I had to. Besides, your hair looks just fine," he smiled sweetly at Bucky, who stopped glaring daggers at him and was instead giving him the usual heart eyes.

"Punk," Bucky muttered as Steve went out of the pool. He extended his hand to help Bucky out, who instead pulled on his arm and made him fall into the water at him.

"Jerk," Steve shook the water from his hair before picking Bucky up and getting them both out of the pool as Bucky laughed.

You and Wanda looked at them with a smile.

"I'm glad they're happy," she said, moving her hands in the water in slow motions.

"They deserve it. You do too," you told her sincerely.

"I am happy," she smiled. "You make me happy," she cupped your cheek in her hand, and you kissed her sweetly.

"You make me happy too," you said, "the happiest."

Later, when you were all gathered around an outdoor table, it somehow ended up with you and Wanda sitting across from Natasha and Carol. Now at first, Wanda half considered being rude and asking to switch with someone.

But then she realized, maybe this isn't so bad.

"Hey baby, can you pass me that salad?" she asked you, sneaking a side look at Nat and Carol. They were talking between them, but the way they tensed up let her know they were paying attention. Good.

"Sure thing," you reached or the salad she gestured at, passing it.

"Thank you," she grinned, planting a firm but sweet kiss on your lips.

You hummed in delight. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"For passing me the salad," she shrugged with a smile.

You let it go, not thinking anything of it, but Wanda snuck another look across the table, and sure enough, Carol's jaw was tightly clenched, while Natasha was looking down at her plate, moving her food around as if she lost her appetite.

It wasn't as good as kicking their asses, but it would do. She barely managed to contain the smug grin that threatened to spread across her face. Having you to herself was more than enough, it was everything she could've ever wanted.

But, having your ex-girlfriends realize what they lost? Well, it certainly didn't hurt.

She didn't do it a lot, didn’t brag or show you off around them most times. But every now and then, she couldn't help herself, because you deserved it. She knew you'd probably never really confront them about how they made you feel, so when she could, she subtly did it for you.

You didn’t deserve what they put you through. No, you deserved the world, you deserved to smile and laugh and be happy and loved. Wanda hoped she could be that, give you that, for the rest of your lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tell me your thoughts!! i couldn’t help but make stevebucky date because i love them hehe. the little look into Wanda’s friendship with Bucky was really fun too, i felt like i sorta alluded to it in the previous ones but yeah, anyways i love them and i hope you liked it<3

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if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[darthwheezely]

grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

[ectonurites]

Yes yes yes both Tim and Dick we’re in the wrong and the situation was complicated. Ngl I really wished they would have talked it out or at least acknowledged it more (maybe they would have if they didn’t RESET THE UNIVERSE)

Yeah, like.

Listen, sure Dick probably should have talked to Tim about the Robin thing a little sooner (before officially giving it to Damian so that Tim could let his feelings out about it and calm down without Damian walking in wearing the suit to rub salt into the wound) but Tim also was self isolating and blatantly pushing everyone who tried to reach out to him away, the only person persistent enough to get through a little bit was Conner because he got Tim to help him with something unrelated which let him sneak in a little feelings chat along the way.

Both Dick & Tim did things wrong in that situation, and both of them had way bigger things they were trying to deal with than just each other (Dick having to... take over being Batman and caring for Damian and dealing with losing Bruce, Tim having a breakdown over basically all the losses he'd experienced over the last several years and feeling like nobody believed him) which influenced that. There were just a lot of raw feelings and nobody, especially not anyone who's gone through the kinds of traumas they have, is going to be in the best state of mind to deal with tough conversations in a situation like that.

From Tim's perspective though, it seems like the majority of his general frustration was coming from him feeling like:

Nobody believed him/trusted him

Everyone thought he was losing his mind in grief

He didn't really have a place anymore/he was being pushed out of things

One thing I think a lot of people don't take into account though is the fact that Tim came back to Gotham for Blackest Night during the really early parts of Red Robin (just before #6) and spent some time working directly with Dick there, before Tim had shown the proof he was right about Bruce. This was a huge emergency situation where they both had to go through this traumatizing thing of their dead parents coming back to fight them together, and they got to kinda... re-establish a lot of their trust in one another during that fight, which I think contributes to some of their tension going away without necessarily an on-panel discussion of how things went down in those Red Robin flashbacks. Having moments where they recognize that, disagreements over how things were handled aside, they can count on each other when it matters really helps.

(Blackest Night: Batman #3)

Another big reason that I think contributes to the lack of acknowledgement is that once Dick really fully believed Tim and Tim had felt like Dick's trust in him was reaffirmed, so much of the hurt from his perspective was gone and just replaced with more determination to get Bruce back. Once everyone was on the same page about all of this, Tim was literally brought in to work with the Justice League on all of it, Dick & Damian were also working on it, and he didn't feel like he was being pushed out of things anymore, he didn't feel like people thought he was crazy.

Having Wonder Woman pass the mic to you in a meeting at the Watchtower is a pretty good way to start thinking people respect you

(The Return of Bruce Wayne #3)

Kinda a sidenote but somewhat related: I feel like a lot of people don't know they should read The Return of Bruce Wayne during Red Robin (before The Road Home: Red Robin!) because that's where you actually see the evidence Tim found (and the evidence Damian & Dick found) get put to use in bringing him back, and you see the actual role Tim played in all of it.

(The Return of Bruce Wayne #6)

Like I don't want this to come off in a mean/bad way but I don't think among all the Tim-centric fanworks I've encountered dealing with this period of time (which is A LOT) I've seen a single one bring up or even allude to the actual logistics of what happened to Bruce (like what specifically happened to him aside from just 'lost in time'... or stuff like how the actual process of him coming back went) or how Tim was actually involved in bringing him back besides finding evidence (Again as I mentioned above, he was working directly with the Justice League and he ended up being the first person to come into contact with Bruce when he came back while they tried to determine what actually happened to him)... Which makes me think a lot of people don't know there is a comic that shows what happened. It's a little confusing of a read because anything with time travel and comic book fictional science will be, but it's not that it just goes entirely unexplained.

However if you only read Red Robin, it seems unexplained.

(The Return of Bruce Wayne #6)

Like that's not so relevant to the Dick & Tim stuff, but circling back to that, when Tim comes back to Gotham and finally has people believing in him, this stuff (and the other things he was dealing with in Red Robin) became his focus rather than being mad at Dick for not handling a situation perfectly when both their emotions were high. After it's settled and Bruce is back I think he's just so relieved about it and ready to move on and work on other things that he's not gonna be the one to dig up stuff with Dick from a few months back when he knows he was being pretty unreasonable himself at the time.

That self-awareness about his own behavior comes out in his talk with Steph, rather than to Dick, but we know it's on his mind because of this and he likely applied it to more than just how he and Steph interacted.

(Red Robin #10)

Dick & Tim just reaffirming their trust in each other by continuing to work together feels relatively in line with how they would heal from the tension of the initial situation. While some more specific talk about it would have been nice to actually see, I can understand it not being a priority when these books were being written because there was just so much stuff going on.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What’s your opinion for Leo’s reaction to finding out the mc was immortal as well- not necessarily a vampire, maybe they’re some other type of supernatural. I’m really curious because Leo seems like he’s mainly in love with the mc bec they are human.

Hi lovely!!! Always wonderful to see you, hope you’re well! 💛💛💛💛💛

Tbh I think my opinion remains the same about something like this? I'm going to link to an ask I wrote up a while ago, only because it's v pertinent to the subject matter and good background for what I’m going to expand on here.

That being said, I'm happy to kind of tl;dr/expand on what I talked about there. Basically I had the feeling that Leonardo choosing MC as a lover was more circumstantial--regarding the state of his life in the moment, regarding his general feelings about vampires and vampire society, and regarding his unresolved trauma as a young kid.

I guess my answer to that question--and forgive me if it seems like a cop out--is that it really depends, I feel? I think his attraction has a lot more to do with the kind of person somebody is, their sensibility, more than it has to do with mortal vs immortal. If it was an immortal MC that showed ridiculous fortitude and self-control, measured patience and maturity, I really don’t see him not noticing that? I think he would be wary at first (assuming it’s all a front) but with time would likely feel a great deal of love if they were interested in a life together. If they were able to see and understand what he needs and answered those needs, I guess I just really doubt his ability to say no. It’s all he’s really looking for, and the fact that he hasn’t found it after so long really speaks to his frightened evasiveness and the rare nature of that kind of unshakeable strength.

I also think a lot of his hinging away from purebloods (true immortals, in other words) is that he 100% does not want his familia having any involvement in his meaningful relationships. Which might be why he shows more acceptance towards turned vampires, or potentially different supernatural beings.

But I also don’t like giving a vague answer without some kind of explanation as to how I got, to that conclusion, so a boatload of analysis follows below the content warning.

Spoilers for Leonardo’s route and a few mentions of JPN ver content:

I think he has less of an obsession with the idea of mortality, and more like a constant association of goodness and freedom and maturity with humanity. And while it's understandable, there are signs that--when he has the proper time and space to heal--his views seem to soften from those extremes. I mean his decision to live with Comte is pretty much his first step in that direction; it was him acknowledging for the first time that vampires aren't inherently loathsome or incapable of normal living. (On a revealing note, I think it says a lot that he agrees with MC that she is living in a “wolves’ den” but also feels the need to clarify the men are basically the domesticated equivalent. They don’t pose the same threat other vampires typically do to humans because of their lifestyle and sire.) Additionally, his tsun-like behavior towards Comte also seems to solidify this concept for me: Leonardo’s trying to come to terms with something he's sworn to reject since he was young, but also can't entirely deny that Comte is as chill and mature as purebloods come lmao

[There was also an event in the JPN ver–which seems to be approaching the ENG version rapidly, though only the first part is here right now–in which Leonardo fully offers to turn her. MC is essentially on her death bed, and Leonardo doesn’t want to lose her after so little time together; it’s MC that rejects the future as a vampire out of sheer principle. Even more noteworthy is that, when a reincarnation of MC is reunited with Leonardo in modern times, he is revealed to be exceptionally shaken by that loss. There are suggestions he can’t take losing her again, which could mean succumbing to the desire to bite her.]

Two things I feel are necessary to hit home:

The first being that, at least within the storyline so far, the most mature and human-like vampires we’ve seen are Leonardo and Comte. They seek to emulate the maturity they see reflected in the human beings they’ve known all their lives. Given how vampire society and their hierarchies work, I get the feeling humans are nothing more than amusing tools to them--a way to survive and creatures to exercise control over. There’s an objectification and delusion that comes with what I’ve seen, and I think it’s important in this discussion? If the vast majority of vampires behave this way (because I’m ngl, Leonardo and Comte don’t seem very keen on remaining in touch with other vampires all that much) then it only makes sense they prefer the company of humans who can at least share this sensibility of “been there, done that--stop hurting people bc you’re bored/repressed, grow up.”

One event story where this was exceedingly evident was actually Leonardo’s proposal story. If y’all remember, an old pal/acquaintance of Leonardo’s finds out he’s gunning for a human woman and basically goes “lmao not on my watch.” His name was Adam iirc, and he felt he had every liberty to try and pressure Leonardo into turning MC. Failing that, he insisted they should break up and not be together anymore. Now, on the one hand, it’s fair to say that he was looking out for Leonardo in a way–he didn’t want him to end up miserable and alone when she was gone. But at the same time I feel that Adam’s behavior is deeply revealing of vampire society as well lmao. He doesn’t really try to understand the situation, just immediately assumes it’s the only appropriate outcome. It does insinuate a lowkey cultural disdain for humanity: they are imperfect, they do not last or cannot have real value without preservation. If Adam was really Leonardo’s friend, wouldn’t he realize that Leonardo considers vampirism nothing more than a burden that he would wish on no one, much less his future wife? Additionally, wouldn’t he also keep in mind that Leonardo considers human beings beautiful just as they are? Since he fails these basic requirements to understand Leonardo, my impression is that he is influenced by the larger vampire culture to some extent. Furthermore, it underscores just how thoroughly Leonardo has been trained to keep his cards close to his chest for fear of ridicule/violent reprisal: no vampires know his true feelings on the matter because he would be vehemently rejected outright.

[One can also offer that maybe Adam wasn’t being malicious, maybe vampires find human women they fall in love with all the time and turn them (or any other permutation of companionship that occurs), so he doesn’t understand why Leonardo wouldn’t. But even then, to try to force them to break up if she doesn’t turn? A bit overkill imo but also revealing--Leonardo’s will is being ignored for the sake of upholding a kind of ill-founded superiority complex lmao]

While Leonardo does have a somewhat overbearing need to control the pacing of his relationship and who sacrifices what, I don’t think it’s wrong to be cautious--to want to think things through. I think it’s fair to be afraid that the person you’re with can’t handle what you’ve seen/known. But that also leads me to a core issue I have with MC: she doesn’t inspire much confidence that she can handle the life he’s lived, and that’s a problem of both incapacity and incompatibility. I have to wonder how he reacts when he’s with somebody at the same maturity level, or at the very least somebody with whom he can see her strength with time. When MC’s life was dying out he was desperate enough to accept biting her because he didn’t want to lose her–human or not. It’s MC that rejects this solution, which leads me to further believe that he just doesn’t care about the divide when it comes down to it; it has more to do with his difficulty with being vulnerable and fully trusting someone to care about him. (Assuming they also have the fortitude to stay hopeful and relatively strong over the course of a very long life.)

In line with that, the second thing I think it’s important to acknowledge is how deeply hurt Leonardo is as a result of his family treating him like a fool/black sheep. He outright says and heavily insinuates that his family would write her off as worthless, that they’d never accept her--that's his first thought:

Leonardo: “My familia would call you frail. I think you’re strong and beautiful. You do more with your time than we try to do with ours.”

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

MC: “And those letters were from your familia?”

Leonardo: “Yeah. I don’t talk to them or see them anymore. We don’t agree...on a lot of things.”

[Brief intermission here. But lmao. Who does that sound like? If any of you guessed Isaac, that’s exactly what I’m alluding to. Isaac says in his own route smth along the lines of “Why bother trying to get through to people when no amount of talking does any good or gets you any closer to being understood?” Which also explains the way they get along to uncanny degrees: they find comfort in making things/researching because it means being able to avoid the distress that comes with being blatantly misunderstood by others. Their pain simply comes in different dimensions; for Leo it’s about loss and hiding who he is out of fear of rejection, for Isaac it’s about betrayal and people turning on him--ultimately abandonment for both. But I digress, back to the main argument.]

Leonardo: “Once they discovered my location, they began hounding me with letters again. They don’t want me to be with just anyone...They want more purebloods. I’m no more than one half of an equation for them.”

There is a clear implication that his desire to choose somebody that truly makes him happy means jack shit to them. They keep talking over him and trying to wear him down to force him into what they want. It’s no wonder--imo--that he has such a hard time just saying what he wants in his life, to feel like he has the freedom to wish and pursue anything freely. It’s no wonder he just expects MC to spit on everything that’s important to him. It appears as though only other human beings in general and Comte have ever come close to understanding him.

At some point MC realizes that his insistence on being compagni provvisori was originally just another act of sacrifice, and that he was fine with giving up his time and a little privacy if it meant she would be safe. The thing she doesn’t seem to realize in the course of this--and he struggles to say it until later on--is that it stopped being blind generosity. He really did start to fall in love with her, and that’s the whole reason things became even more messy; because he didn’t anticipate not being able to let go on top of the vulnerability. And it’s a big part of why he’s hesitating to speak. He feels he has no right to those feelings, and that he’s imposing on her--not that he’ll be welcome.

And when she did finally admit those feelings were welcome, it was compounded by the parroted views of his family and larger vampire society as a whole. Saying that she herself wasn’t enough, that she had to become a vampire to make him happy. Imo that sounds very potentially retraumatizing given his experiences (people trying to force him into marriages with other vampires who didn’t remotely understand or care about him because it was “the right way of things”). It’s no wonder he freaks out and does something incredibly stupid and insensitive–which is pretty insanely ooc for him.

Leonardo: “...It shocked them. Quieted them down a bit. Hard to get peace when your familia is immortal. Grazie, cara mia.”

Leonardo: “You’re strong, and you’re kind. So probably you won’t cry while I’m here to see it. But when I’m not looking, you’ll cry. If I had done that to you (bitten her, in other words), you’d still be crying when I wasn’t watching... Maybe it’s selfish of me, after what I did, but I just wanted to make you happy. You always look pretty, cara mia, but your smile takes my breath away...It’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”

This man literally cannot handle anyone deeply sad or in despair. He’s always going to try to cheer people up and care about them, but general tragedy/emotional discord affects him very powerfully--and it’s likely a reflection of what I’ve mentioned before. He can’t bear to see people feeling helpless or miserable because he’s just been there too many times to be able to cope. He wants to help and heal (even if he’s suffering from prolonged compassion fatigue), but he knows that his powers are limited--even if he is a pureblood.

And the thing is? While it’s misguided to believe she would cry alone when it comes to the context of healthy romantic love (bc the idea would be that you lean on each other when something upsetting happens) he has zero reference point. He was not born as a result of authentic love (his parents never married, he was the result of a procreative arrangement), his family talks over every wish and belief he has and they still claim it’s done out of love/honest concern for him. One can only imagine the serpentine and obnoxious lengths to which his family has deceived or tried to force him into reconnecting with them. Every person that ever did know him/care about him in a real way is gone. Love, for him, has only been a series of losses that left his heart hollowed out; I don’t really blame him for expecting further disappointment and isolation and exhaustion. 

He’s also not wrong in the sense that he partially saw MC do what he outlined, and it’s a big part about what he loves about her. When she was feeling alone and lost–powerless–all she did was shrug and move forward. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, but focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t do is healthier. And they both have the tendency to hide when they’re in pain or feeling lost, all because they don’t want to trouble anyone. Remember that when he says this, it’s a reflection of himself too: because even if he was heartbroken beyond measure, all he would do is hide it every second; he would never expect anyone to see right through him or care.

I mean I tend think of that one post I saw that talked about how people often see themselves as a social burden when most of their life has just been a series of neglect and loss. They don’t really have a concept of “you’re not heavy because I want to stay with you. It’s my choice to care about you.” How do you feel worthwhile an existence when four hundred years later your family still won’t treat you with basic dignity. The men in the mansion also all look to him for guidance and soothing because of the kind of person he is–he’s either silent in the periphery or helping. He never betrays so much as an inkling of insecurity or distress. 

I mean the whole reason Leonardo comes to the mansion is because he has absolutely no issue helping Comte in a pivotal time of need without seeking much of anything in return. Remember that Comte explains how Leonardo came to the mansion in response to Comte’s distress about the future. This makes sense considering Comte was rapidly trying to stop Vlad by beating him to the punch, and had only enough time to plan the basics. He had no certainty things would work out, much less that his boys would thrive. But Comte, unlike the boys, has become acutely aware of how much Leonardo is hiding his fatigue and despair in the course of being helped. As such, he wants to return the favor--and tries to be a good friend to him as much as he can (handles his insane familia, keeps things light and silly time between them, takes him seriously as a person, doesn’t pry beyond what’s fair.)

[I also think of that psychology concept of “the good enough mother.” It’s not always about being perfect every second of your life. It’s about paying attention and acting where it really counts. I feel like people who grow up under an enormous burden of neglect or parental/mentor abuse have a hard time coming to terms with the idea. This notion that just trying is enough for a lot of people, that showing them they’re not alone is enough to make  difficult memories bearable. Because it’s the oppressive silence and apathy that tends to kills people, imo--not people who mean well. But Leonardo doesn’t really understand any kind of reciprocal or non-self-emptying model because the concept is beyond him. He has no experience with it beyond Comte and a select few humans he’s befriended.]

Let’s continue on this point of MC crying where he can’t see her, shall we? The reason this scares him so much is not because he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to make the effort. It’s precisely that he cares to the point of madness. It’s that he is legitimately convinced nothing he has to say, nothing that he can do, no part of him is enough to ease what she will have to trade away to stay with him. The core issue is not one of disregard or objectification, I find it to be more about his belief that he just isn’t enough. He doesn’t trust that anyone can love him to the point where just the sight of him or time with him can heal. And while there is a foolishness to this belief, it’s understandable when you consider where he’s coming from. You can call it selfishness, but it just feels involuntary--he has a lot of fear when it comes to love.

I mean Comte even says it himself? His words here always strike me: “I want you to understand, it’s because he cherishes you just as you are--more than he cares about his future or his well-being.”

Comte is openly identifying the way that Leonardo has a tendency to give more than is healthy. That Leonardo isn’t hesitating because his feelings are lacking, he’s doing it because he knows it’s going to hurt like a bitch trying to love her and never ask beyond what feels reasonable. (Spoilers: no request is reasonable. That’s the problem here. He’s convinced he deserves nothing.) Therefore turning her into a vampire to stay with him is--consequently, to Leonardo--out of the question. This is the literal hingepoint at which Comte and Leonardo divide; Comte simply tells MC he’ll take full responsibility for asking so much of her. He intends to make her happy with every single resource and skill he has at his disposal. Even if he doubts his ability or fears losing her to vampire rhetoric madness, he’d rather try than live with the regret and immediate loss. Leonardo is more resistant because of his dour outlook, that her fear of immortality is never going to be something that either of them can overcome. And/or he’s likely afraid she’s only going to regret being together after so long, and might succumb to the ridiculous sort of power/greed complexes vampires seem so attracted to by nature.

I think Leonardo is still coming to terms with the idea that he isn't alone in the world in a lot of ways, and I think he's also coming to terms with the idea that immortality does not equate to evil. Sure, human beings on average are probably more open to flexible modes of thinking and living compared to vampires--their maturity is in some ways guaranteed due to the instances they're forced to adapt to survive. However, just one look at the ruling class and oligarchies of all kinds (even just stubborn human beings) reveals how they are not immune to the same sort of megalomania, arrogance, and thoughtless violence purebloods/vampires are capable of.

So I guess I hesitate when it comes to the thought that he only loves her because she's human. If anything, I think he loves her for the fact that she's very rooted in reality--not quite so bound by the extremes that trouble him. It's one of the many reasons I believe Leonardo needs a lot of maturity and patience; the ability to differentiate between his panicked/overwhelmed/hurt reactions versus his calm is a skill in and of itself considering his capacity for concealment. To say nothing of getting him to slow down when this happens, too.

I suppose I think about it in a way that’s similar to how Napoleon’s main story narrative is framed. While Leonardo’s route doesn’t focus on the grandeur of being a former emperor, there is a clear insinuation here that he also craves normalcy? Just a little life, with a person he loves dearly, where he can rest and be himself for once. I think because he gives off such an appearance of steadiness, people fail to see that he is barely holding on--not to mention the kind of experiences he’s been deprived of (the exact security and understanding he so expertly emulates).

Closer to your question, it’s worth mentioning that Leonardo’s life goal for a while was the creation of an immortal human being--in that he fully recognized human beings could not offer what he needed as they were.

He loves humans because of their adaptability, their frequent desire to keep seeking out hope and making the best of the broken pieces they have. But then again, it has more to do with the nature of how frequently that sensibility occurs in humans vs vampires (and immortality in general): mortality does demand some level of necessity to change and grow. Which is one of the largest trauma points for him; the vampires around him just refused to grow up, always demanding at him like children and obsessed with their power complexes.

Thing is I also don't know enough about vampire society to know how correct this perceived ratio is. However, given Comte's similar avoidance of other vampires and general inability to live with them (he and Vlad were literal childhood best friends and Comte can't stand him anymore lmao) I think Leonardo may have more validity here than people give him credit for. Which begs the question--why did he quit trying to make a human immortal? What was it that stopped him? Was it the horror of what needed to be done to achieve it? Or would a potential companion start to fall more in love with the idea of immortality than they do with life itself/him? I think it’s a worthwhile question to ask, given the disdain he seems to aim at Shakespeare in particular--once human, but now emulates all of the violence and insatiability marked by vampirism.

This is where the transition from human to vampire/immortal contains another hingepoint: is Leonardo so incapable of finding a middle ground because he feels like any choice he makes will be a wrong one? Marry a human, deprive them of a normal love where they can grow old together. Marry a human and turn them, what if they are reborn with immortal wounds/psychological harm? What if time proves they get bored of him or hateful, what if they begin to act like the predatory purebloods he hates so much? Marry a pureblood/immortal, and be hounded by his family for heirs--risk being with somebody who will never love him or their children, and only inspire more misery in the world.

Does it make sense how this can really start to become an anxious downspiral for someone like him? How the personal insecurity and life history comes together to just compound stress endlessly?

That's the thing that's important here, I think. Leonardo just needs somebody who is open-minded, firm, and not easily deceived. If one takes a look at Leonardo's main story route, the whole reason everything goes to shit so disastrously is because MC stops listening at a critical point. Granted Leonardo could have been more forthcoming for sure, but when she started assuming Shakespeare was right instead of seeing how Leonardo was feeling/reacting, she responded in ways Leonardo wasn't prepared for. He never wanted to shake her faith or insinuate whatever she is is not good enough for him, and tbh I think Leonardo downspiraled because it was just the same thing all over again. What he is--a vampire and immortal--keeps ruining everything he wants with his life. 

[chuckbass-love]

May I request a Ransom x Y/n fic where he goes to a pub after being taken out of the will and he see's y/n at a table crying because she's just been dumped

I love this idea!! 

A/N: Just a heads up, i’m keeping the events of the movie in this where he goes back to the house to switch the medication and then have him go to the pub after that.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad or Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst, alludes to smut at first and then pure smutty filth. Fingering, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, daddy kink, ass slapping and fluff overload. Heavy alcohol use, swearing and alludes to murder (the plot from the movie).

Word Count: 8,770

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @roooogers go check them out💜

Shoulder To Cry On

“Please, Anthony. Please. Don’t do this” your voice shaking with the fear of losing the one person who you assumed would always be around. Your brain trying to register everything he’s just said as tears drown your vision out causing everything to go blurry. 

Weak body, silent screams and shaky hands. It’s real. But it doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream. Like if someone were to pinch you now then you’d wake up and feel fine. But that’s far from your reality. 

“You’re making a scene Y/N, everyone’s looking” he looks around him, watching on as everyone stares in your direction, enjoying the free show as they dine. 

Is he serious? 

“Me making a scene? You chose to do this here in front of everyone, knowing full well how i’d react” the anger coming out, the need to scream consuming you, so you do. You yell. You pick the food up in front of you and throw it at him. Bread, prawns, even your red wine.

“How could you do this to me? You fucking cheating scumbag” bottom lip trembling at the words leaving your mouth, the sick feeling working its way through your body and eventually settling in the back of your throat but you stop it.

You had plans for a lovely anniversary dinner tonight. Your boyfriend of 4 years Anthony. The man you’ve always seen yourself marrying and tonight, you thought was the night. That he’d finally get down on one knee and propose. But that was soon ripped away from you the moment the starters arrived.

He started his little speech about how he’s had the best time over the last 4 years with you, the memories you’ve made together. 

Then came the moment that everyone dreads. The breakup speech. 

He confessed to not feeling as happy as he once did with you and then he admitted to having a connection with some woman at work. His assistant. Jennifer. 

And as much as he played it off like nothing happened, you’ve known him long enough now to see all of the tell tale signs. The way he rubs his ear lobe, the way he avoids your eyes and most importantly the way he stutters when he’s nervous. 

His face has guilt and cheater written all over it. Your whole world feels like it’s crumbling around you and everything is a mess. Including your mascara. 

You always had your suspicions about Jennifer but he was the perfect liar, a genius at concocting up excuses. The way he’d make your mind do a full 180 with your thoughts and feelings. Just like a magician tricking the audience. He pulled the wool right over your eyes and love enabled that, stopped you from asking all the questions that you should have thought to ask.

It’s like now, everything he ever said to you, all the happy memories and plans you made. They all seem so fake, like he never meant any of it. It’s gut wrenching. Sickening. 

He’s a beautiful liar. He did it so effortlessly. Getting into bed next to you after no doubt being with her, touching her in the places he was only ever supposed to touch you.

But before you can even get to him, the restaurant staff make their way over, trying to remove you from the scene but you don’t even give them the chance.

“I’m going. Don’t fucking touch me” you hold your hands up, slipping your coat on and grabbing your purse.

“I hope one day you’ll experience how you’ve made me feel tonight” and that’s the last thing you ever said to him, picking your stuff up to leave.

All that anger and hurt eventually brought you here, the bar right round the corner from your house. You couldn’t bare the thought of even going home right away, let alone stepping foot in there. It’s too soon. 

The house that’s jam packed with memories of the two of you. Photographs of you. The bed you’ve slept in every night with him for 2 years. Your skin itches.

That’s when you see someone sit down next to you at the bar but you don’t look. He still notices you though. Ogling you as he sips at his whiskey. The way your dress hugs your figure, the slit up the side, exposing your legs.

You hear his thick Boston accent ordering. Still refusing to turn your head. You really don’t want any bother tonight. You just need to drown him out. Drown out the way he smells, the way he touches you, the feel of his huge hands all over your skin. 

Ransom doesn’t stop though, stealing glances here and there at you, trying to figure out the perfect chat up line to dish out. Then it comes to him, no chat up lines needed.

“What’s brought a beautiful girl like you here tonight then?”

The smirk that appears on his face comes out in his words, you can hear it but you’re really not in the mood so you order another drink, ignoring the stranger. 

But the second you speak up, your voice giving your state away, causing Ransom’s head to shoot up, leaning closer to get a better look and that’s when he sees it. Your eyes that are filled with tears, the way you’re sniffles follow shortly after they fall.

“Wait, are you okay?” Genuine concern in his voice, not wanting to upset you even more by prodding too much. 

“I’m fine” you spit, just wanting to be left alone to wallow. To over evaluate everything that’s gone down tonight. But that’s kind of hard to do with this man talking non stop.

“You don’t look fine”

“That’s because i don’t need nor want anyones pity” ouch.

“Who said i was pitying you?” he rolls his eyes, not even sure on what’s turned you so cold or should he say who. But he tried. Which isn’t usually in his nature. 

See the events that lead Ransom to that little bar are slightly different to yours but nevertheless, he’s here with you so it doesn’t necessarily matter. The story should probably be told anyway though.

All was going so well in his world earlier today, he was happy as Larry, living off of his Grandfather, taking all he could get from him. He had everything. A bachelor pad that puts his friends one to shame, a beamer, scantily clad women at the click of his fingers and invitations to all the best parties in Boston. He was the most notorious playboy, everyone knows him.

The moment he stepped foot into his Grandfathers study, nothing was ever going to be same once he left. And that’s a fact. 

Harlan broke the news about his will. How he changed it recently. Leaving his nurse Marta Cabrera with everything. Every. Last. Dime. 

Meaning Ransom and his family will be pushed out of the mansion and Walt will be kicked to the curb when it came to Harlans publishing company, Blood Like Wine. 

He argued with Harlan for what felt like forever, tried his best to plead his case and he even resulted to taking a threatening tone to his beloved Grandfather. Which of course, didn’t work. Leaving him angry, furious even. His blood was well and truly boiling. He’d had it. He couldn’t hear another word of that bullshit. So he stormed out. Bidding his great nana a swift goodbye in the form of resting his hand over her arm. 

Once in his beamer, he screamed. Smacking the wheel with all of his might before stepping on it, pulling out the space and up the driveway. He had to get out of there and fast. 

But halfway up the drive, he slams on the breaks when an idea begins to form, causing him to turn around. Parking away from the mansion first before creeping his way back in. 

He climbs the wall at the side of it, up to the secret window that he discovered in his childhood. Once he’s in he finds Marta’s medical bag, opening it and switching his grandfathers meds, making sure to take out the one saving grace that could ruin his perfect plan. 

With that secured in his pocket, the bag is zipped back up and placed back where he found it and he’s leaving the same way he came. Back down the side of the house but before he can make a quick run for it, he sees his great nana in the window. Staring at him, without blinking. He waits to see if she’ll speak but she never does, so he turns to leave, making it back to his beamer without a single person catching him. Great nana doesn’t count, there’s a very slim chance that she didn’t even know it was him. After all, she didn’t say a word.

All done now though, the plan is now in full swing. Soon Marta will take Harlan up to bed to give him his medicine. That’s when she’ll give him the overdose on morphine. Or the good stuff as they like to call it. 

And eventually it’ll start to come together. 

Marta will get arrested for Harlan’s murder, the money and all of the assets that were once hers will be stripped away and they shall all be returned to their rightful owners. His family and him of course. One thing that should be made abundantly clear about Ransom is that he’ll only ever help or get involved when there’s something in it for him. However, he’s not always evil, he has a soft side, it rarely comes out but make no mistake, it’s there alright. 

With his evil plan in place, he heads back home but before he even gets there, he passes a quaint little bar at the side of the road. He could really do with a drink right now. Of course a taxi home will be required but with thousands about to grace his bank account, what’s 10 or more dollars on taxi fairs. Exactly, it’s pittance to him. 

The second he enters, all eyes are on him. All but two. Your eyes. You’re sat at the bar, head in your hands and from what he can see, you’re dressed all fancy. Too fancy for this place that’s for sure. So he makes his way over, noticing the disgusted looks out of the corner of his eye. He’s never been here before, so of course he’s the newbie to all of the regulars.

That then leads to now. 

You turn to face him, your sad eyes meeting his dreamy ones. The only way to describe them. You find yourself on the verge of getting lost before you break the gaze. Nodding towards the barman who slides another shot over to you to which you knock back like it’s nothing before continuing to sip Gin.

Just one look from you and he can see that something isn’t right. 

“What’s got you crying all on your lonesome?”

“More like who” you respond, chuckling as more tears fall.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off “i had the lovely pleasure of being dumped tonight” you muster up your best fake smile, as if somehow acting like everything is okay will suddenly make it all okay for real. But it’s no use, you still feel torn to pieces. Your heart is still on the floor, it’s been stomped on way too many times for you to count on two hands and you’re life is a complete shambles.

He doesn’t love you, Y/N. He doesn’t love you anymore but then again, did he ever? 

“I’m sorry to hear that and for what it’s worth, the guys a jackass for doing that to you”

His comment has your brows furrowing in question. What does he mean by that? But you don’t even get a chance to ask, he can sense your confusion a mile away.

“I just meant that you’re gorgeous. He’s a fool” his nice side coming out to play, he’s never this nice to a woman unless he plans to sleep with her. But this time, it’s different. You’re different. He can never bring himself to pray on you like one of those other girls. Because he can see it, that you’re drained. You’ve had enough. Your ex made a fool of you enough already so who is he to add to that?

“Yeah right, he cheated so i doubt that very much” you snort, knocking back the rest of your drink.

At this point the bartender doesn’t even need you to ask for another, he’s probably realised by now that he should keep them coming. 

“What an asshole” 

Why does he care? He’s just a stranger. But still, you agree with him.

“Yup”

And just like that, a conversation blossoms. 

Drinks flow as you explain the events of tonight and he doesn’t interrupt you. He just lets you speak, it’s almost like he can sense that you just need someone to listen, like all you need is to let out all of your emotions. Even if it is to a complete stranger. 

Who by the way isn’t bad in the looks department. 

Wait. No. You can’t think that. 

Surely it’s fine to think it, just as long as you don’t act on it. Although, you are available now so there would be no harm.

“So let me get this straight. The man took you to dinner for your 4 year anniversary, let you get all dolled up, makeup, hair, nails. The works. Just to break it off with you and tell you he’s met someone else?” his brows raising and you nod, ashamed of how you’ve been treated because ultimately, you really did look like the idiot tonight.

You bought an expensive dress just for this very occasion and you did look the best you’ve ever looked. Radiant and glowing. Your makeup was on point, as was your hair. But now, you’ve got mascara everywhere and you’re way over the line of tipsy.

“I don’t get it. You’re well, you. I mean look at you and he left this for another woman? It makes no sense. There’s no way i’d ever give you up. No chance. No way” the way you feel your cheeks warm at his obvious compliment. You’re almost certain that he’s sweet talking you now. It took him a total of 2 hours. And he finally gave it a go. But you’re not complaining.

“LAST ORDERS” the bartender pulls you from your thoughts. That’s when you turn to look at him, still not knowing the perfect strangers name.

“Um, i guess i should get going” the very sentence makes that sick feeling come back but just like earlier, you push it away, stopping it before it comes spewing out on the bar. There would have been no time to run to the bathroom. 

“I guess i should too” he smiles softly, shrugging his coat on and standing up. 

That’s when the height difference is clear. He towers over you, making you feel small and dainty. 

He gestures for you to head out first and as you glance back over your shoulder, you see him sliding some money to the bartender. No doubt, he paid for all of those drinks that you forgot to even pay for. Fuck.

These heels are way too high and your vision blurs a little as you stumble out the door but before you can even fall to the ground and face plant, he catches you, lifting you up and walking you over to what looks like a taxi.

“Come on you, let’s get you home. Where’d you live?”

Your mind goes blank as you stare at him before muttering “i don’t want to go home, i can’t go home. He’ll be there. Don’t make”

He cuts you off, pulling you closer to him and giving the cabbie his address instead. Wait. His place?

“I guess i should probably tell you my name being as you’re gonna be in my house soon huh?” he chuckles, spurring your own laughing fit. 

“Do tell, mystery man” 

“Ransom”

“I don’t have any money to pay you, not that i need to anyways, just tell me your name”

“No, no. My name is Ransom” his laughter fills your ears.

Strange name. Strange man.

“Surely not” 

“Sure is. Well technically it’s my middle name. But i really can’t reveal anymore than that”

“Well i’m Y/N by the way and can i just say, you smell amazing” ah, the part where you make an utter show of yourself by leaning closer and closer, until your face is inches from his neck. That’s when you inhale really dramatically. Getting a good whiff of his manly scent. It’s intoxicating.

Luckily for you, he takes it all in good humour, probably because you’re drunk. 

The rest of the ride back to his consists of you getting overly touchy, making random comments and with Ransom being the playboy that he is, it’s a real struggle for him not to fuck you here and now. Even in front of the cabbie. It wouldn’t be the worst place he’s fucked.

Yes you’re drunk but your hands are roaming to places they shouldn’t be and now he can feel a situation forming in the shape of a huge hard on.

Not that you notice, you’re too wrapped up in your own drunken state, blissfully unaware.

He can’t fuck you anyway. You’re too drunk. He’ll have to sober you up first.

The taxi comes to a halt and you look out of the windows, noticing a huge house, too posh for the likes of you but clearly fitting for a man like Ransom. He pays the cabbie before getting out. 

You sit there clueless until you feel him scoop you up in his arms. He kicks the the door shut, walking the both of you to his house. He fiddles around in his pocket, holding you up with one arm so that he can open it and put you down on the couch.

“Is this your place?” 

“It is indeed”

“It’s so big”

He lays you down, pointing his index finger in your face as he warns you “stay here, okay? Don’t move”

The child in you starts to emerge, the pout and puppy dog eyes coming out “yes sir”. You salute him and watch him strut away. 

When he returns, his coat is off and he’s just in his white shirt, grey cardigan and his slacks.

“Here, drink this, it’ll help”

“Ew what is this?” your face screws up, disgusted at the taste “are you trying to poison me?”

“It’s just water, don’t be so dramatic. Drink it”

“What if i wanted another drink” 

He just shakes his head disapprovingly. You’re really having none of it and he can’t fuck you like this. He makes it his mission to make sure all the women he’s with can actually remember what’s going on. Plus he needs your consent first. 

“Drink. I won’t tell you again” his scary side showing just a tad but he soon shuts that off, realising how bossy and intimidating he sounds “wait, sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you”

Shouting and confrontation has always scared you. You’ve always had this natural instinct to cower and hide. 

But this time, all you can really do is back up, to the other end of the couch.

“You’re just really drunk and it’s not doing you any good. Especially with everything that you’ve gone through tonight” wow. He’s even surprised himself with that one. 

It’s not that he doesn’t care about you or your feelings because he most certainly does. He’s liked being there for you tonight, even if you did start out as two strangers at a bar. It distracted him from his own drama filled life. But your freaky side was showing on the taxi ride over and it awakened something inside of him.

Not in the way that some may think. Sure he’d love nothing more than to fuck you senseless, make you forget everything even if it’s just for the night but most importantly. He felt something more than just lust when you were touching him. 

And as strange as that is to admit, it felt amazing. Like fucking you wouldn’t just be for the sake of it. You wouldn’t just be another notch on his bed post. It’s almost like his heart knows something that his brain doesn’t know yet.

Eventually he gets you to slowly sip at the water until half of it is gone and then the whole thing. You’re still tipsy but a little better than you were before the water.

“Did you want any food? I could order in? It might help?”

“I mean i did sort of throw my prawn starter at my ex” 

He can’t contain his laughter, leaning back on the couch and throwing a hand over his left boob. You really are hilarious to him. He’s so amused by you and he doesn’t ever want this night to end. Even if it doesn’t end in sex, which it will. He’d be satisfied. 

Something that Ransom Drysdale would never ever think or say. 

“So food then?”

You nod before shaking your head aggressively.

“Actually no. No food. I already feel like i’m going to hurl. Food will just make that worse” 

He seconds that, taking your empty glass from your hands and disappearing to refill it before returning it to you.

“You best drink up then if you aren’t planning to eat”

So you do as he says, stopping after a couple of sips due to your eyes noticing more and more about him that you never noticed before. Like his slicked back hair, his broad shoulders and oh shit. Is that a boner?

It’s gotta be right. 

Your still tipsy self hands him the water for him to place on the coffee table for you and that’s when you do the unexpected. You make your way over to him, sitting way too close. Your bare arms rubbing against the soft and thin material of his cardigan. 

“You alright?” 

The way he acts like he cares, which, he does. It’s soothing, the gentle tone in his voice. The way he’s treating you like you’re glass and he doesn’t want to break you. And he’d be right, because you are delicate. Not your body of course but your heart, your soul, your mind. Not that there’s much left of your heart after Anthony broke it.

“I’m okay, i’ll be better after i get this dress off though” the flirty side of you starts to make an appearance. You look down, twiddling your thumbs as he clears his throat, clearly didn’t expect a comment like that. 

“I guess i could fetch some of my clothes for you to wear?” his suggestion, whilst very cute and gentleman like, isn’t what you were after. And he’s far from a gentleman. You can just tell.

“I don’t think you understood” you turn around, back facing him “i need some help. Please” eyelashes batting as you quickly look over your shoulder at him and seconds later, you feel his hand move your hair to the side. 

The zipper glides down with ease causing the straps to fall down your arms and soon enough. You stand up, letting it fall into a puddle on the floor. Leaving you in nothing but your matching blue laced, bra and panties set. Along with your heels of course. It’s the set that you bought for tonight too. For the sex you never ended up getting.

For the first time ever, Ransom is rendering on speechless, his mouth waters at the most incredible sight in front of him and he can tell from that look in your eyes that you want him. 

Something he never expected to happen so fast. That’s when you sit back down next to him, resting your hand on his thigh.

“You know i should really thank you for tonight”

“Honestly, it was nothing” his words are aimed at you whilst his eyes are fixated on your body, not even trying to hide it from you but you just lap it up. You could use some attention right now. After all, your confidence was knocked with your ex boyfriend’s revelation.

“No, really. It was nice. You’ve been amazing. So let me thank you” but before your lips can touch his, he pulls back. Looking at you as his hand caresses your cheek, staring into your eyes like he’s looking into your soul and you feel close to naked in more ways than one.

That’s when his lips crash to yours in an intense and very heated kiss. As his hands roam around your half naked figure, you position them at the back of your bra, signalling to him that you want him to remove it. Which of course, he does. 

He pulls away for a couple of seconds, taking a moment to look at your breasts. And the way he cups them with his large hands before using his thumb and index fingers to pinch at your now hard nipples, has you moaning into the kiss. Leaving your lips parted just enough for his tongue to slip in, adding to the build up. 

The battle for dominance begins and it goes back and forth between you both, your hunger is very much profound. As is Ransom’s. The moans he’s eliciting are almost porn star like and he’s barely even touched you. But that’s the beauty of it, it feels so good that you’re keening for more. Which earns a low and raspy chuckle.

It doesn’t take long before you’re straddling him, legs either side with your hands cupping his face. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing slightly, almost like he’s making sure you don’t go anywhere. And after the day he’s had. He needs someone, whether he admits it or not. He does. 

But that’s all he’s ever wanted. Is someone. Someone to talk to, someone who will listen and be there. He can’t complain about how that’s not the case though, he’s brought it all on himself. The loneliness, it’s killing him but he chooses to push everyone away. 

His family though, that’s all them. They made him this way. A scheming, money grabbing playboy. It doesn’t mean the facade doesn’t drop once he’s all alone though.

However, it never drops around others. So why is it dropping around you?

“God, i needed this” he pants, in between his kisses that he’s peppering from your lips to your jawline and then your neck. It takes him next to no time at all to find the one spot that drives you insane and when he notices the way your whole body shivers. He smirks, sucking and biting it along with the equal amount of wet kisses.

“Me too. Fuck, right there” you mewl, back arching in his hands as they splay across it before moving down to settle on your panties. His finger traces the top of them, following them as it dips into your ass before giving your ass cheeks a hard smack. 

God if this is how incredible you feel just kissing and touching the man then sex must be a real first place prize.

Just the way he’s handling your body alone is enough to send you over that sweet cliff but you stop it, holding back by pushing his face away from your skin, interrupting the hickey he was clearly in the middle of making.

“I wasn’t done with you, come back here” 

You stop him again “i need you” you whisper frantically, both of your chests rising and falling. Your heart is beating like crazy.

“Patience baby” he winks, standing up with you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist and your arms holding onto his broad shoulders for support as he carries you up the stairs and into what looks like his room. 

Before you even have time to pause for so much as a second, he throws you to the bed. 

“I wanna take my sweet little time with you” he starts, the bed dips as he gets on it, hovering above you “gonna worship every inch of your body” he lowers himself so that he can kiss your lips, then your jawline, then your neck and then eventually, the valley between your breasts.

“Gonna show you what your worth baby, prove to you that you’re better than that scum who didn’t treat you the way you deserve” also something that’s unlike Ransom. But if there’s one thing he’s a pro at, it’s pleasuring a woman. He knows what the fuck he’s doing. He can talk the talk and walk the walk. Which he’s about to prove to you right now. 

He lowers himself down to your sex, the way the pool is growing more and more is obvious, he can smell it and even see it, the way the light blue material has darkened around your tight hole.

You spread your legs open wider, your way of inviting him in. Of course he accepts. He starts off by pressing a thumb down onto your clit, moving it around in circles and causing you to jolt. You’ve been craving someone, anyone at this point to touch you there. Maybe that should have been a sign that things were doomed with you and Anthony since he’s not touched you in months. Maybe that was a sign you should have seen, a red flag that you were too blind to notice.

“Look at you, so flustered already. God i can’t wait to fuck you” 

“Please” you beg, pathetically.

“Nuh uh baby, i told you i wanna take my time, starting with this pretty little pussy” he hooks his fingers into the hem, using that to pull them down and off of your legs before throwing them behind him, not caring where they land. 

“My oh my, it is a pretty little pussy, isn’t it. God you’re soaked baby, all this for me?”

“All for you” your confirmation leads him to lick his lips before pressing a couple of open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs.

“That man is an idiot. But i guess his loss is my gain. Ain’t that right baby” he winks as his kisses get closer and closer to your arousal covered hole. 

“Ransom, plea- OH FUCK” his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking as his tongue flicks across it rapidly. A sensation you’ve never felt before that makes your breathing hitch, your hands run through his locks, no doubt messing them up, not that he’s showing any signs of caring.

All that Ransom cares about right now is making you feel good, making you cum.

“Like this baby? Like my mouth all over you?” his eyes meet yours as he uses his fingers to spread you open so that he can really get a good eyeful “you’re dripping” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself and not to you. He slowly slides one finger in before resuming his attention on your folds and your bundle of nerves. 

“More, i need more. I need you” as flattered as he is by your desperation and need to feel every inch of his thick cock, he has to prepare you. Most of the women he’s been with have never had someone as big as him before, so he always likes to get them ready and you are no exception. 

“Patience baby, you’ll have me. All in good time” 

His raspy voice has you melting alone and the way he’s working you over, slipping a second digit in, should be criminal. How can a man like this be single and alone? It makes no sense. Plus it doesn’t hurt that he’s loaded too. 

It’s a mystery that you’ll be sure to get to the bottom of once you’re done here. 

A third finger is added and he’s curling them all more and more each time he bottoms out, your back arches again, your grip on his hair gets tighter. But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. He’s a man on a mission right now.

The way he’s sucking on your clit, the way his fingers are filling you up and the way he’s slurping at you like a drink is something you’ll never and could never compare to anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s a literal god and he has your walls fluttering around him, your clit pulsating in his mouth.

“Feel the way your squeezing me baby, you gonna cum? Huh? Gonna cum all over my fingers” the pure filth that he’s spewing, is what has you coming face to face with stars. And Ransom can feel the way your hips bucks up into his face, the way your hands keep him locked there until they are pushing him away due to how sensitive you are. He doesn’t budge though.

He just laps at your sex again and again before finally withdrawing his fingers, noticing your slick coating them and dripping down his hand.

“Jesus, looks like somebody made a mess”

You can’t help the way your cheeks warm in embarrassment which he soon puts to bed by stuffing his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Every last drop. 

That’s when he takes it upon himself to drink directly from you, sticking his tongue into the honey pot, taking everything you have to offer “god so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough baby, tastes so fucking good” 

A flirtatious giggle escapes, your hands covering your mouth but he rips them away.

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed or shy around me” 

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” your teeth bite at your bottom lip as you shiver with the anticipation of what’s to come from him. His silence is deadly but exciting.

“Indeed i am” 

He can most likely hear your heart race as he pulls away, getting off of the bed to undress himself. Starting with his cardigan and shirt. Once it’s off, his abs are revealed, his biceps are huge. You have the biggest urge to kiss him all over that chiseled body, sculpted by some kind of god. He’s gotta be a fantasy.

“But first baby” he trails off, pulling his slacks down and stepping out of them “you’re gonna suck my cock, get it nice and hard with that mouth of yours before i ram it into that tight little cunt” he pulls his boxers down, stepping out of them too and kicking both to the side before stalking closer.

You gulp, your eyes widen... he’s huge. Really huge. Thick too. Does he even need your mouth?

“What’s the matter baby? Is someone intimidated?”

“No” your denial, whilst very cute, isn’t believable. But he’s still going to let you have a go at wrapping that mouth around it.

You scoot off of the bed and fall to your knees, feeling even more dainty than you did before when he was towering over you like a giant. 

“Don’t be shy baby, get to work” 

Your hand wraps around him with your thumb swiping the pre cum that’s oozed out of the slit and you immediately pop your thumb into your mouth. You just want a small taste and as soon as the salty-sweet droplet hits your tongue. You all of a sudden crave more of it.

“Nice?” he asks, cocking a brow up “delicious” you smile, adding to his already blown up ego.

You gradually welcome him into your mouth, opening wider as each inch passes your lips until he’s almost bottomed out. That’s when you open wider and his tip hits the back of your throat making you gag, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“You look so good taking all of me in that mouth, bet you’ll look even better when you’re taking me in that cunt”

Is he trying to kill you with his dirty talk? Most likely.

He’s a different man to the guys you normally go for. Maybe that’s where you’ve gone wrong. You’ve let yourself settle for mediocre sex, mediocre relationships and maybe that’s why you’ve never been truly happy, like happy to your very core. You’ve never fully believed that you deserve the world. Never known your worth.

He grips the sides of your head, stilling your movements so his can begin and he doesn’t go easy. His thrusts have you making an even bigger mess, more saliva dripping down from your face to the floor. He’s loving every second of it though. But soon enough, just as quick as he started, he stops. Pulling out and looking at you, content with what he sees. 

“God you’re fucking beautiful like this, on your knees for me like a good girl. Get on the bed baby” you do as you’re told, sprawling out on the bed and waiting for him to join which of course he does. As soon as he gets a condom out, taking it from the wrapper and sliding it down his shaft. Size XL. You spy before he tosses the wrapper into the bin. 

“You ready?” he asks, resting his tip between your legs and lowering his body so that he can slide his arms underneath your shoulder blades. His face inches from yours. 

“Please, i need you now” and with that he slides home, not stopping to let you adjust to every inch as it comes. You can feel your pussy stretching, the way it stings slightly but it also feels incredible. It’s bliss. 

“S’tight baby and s’warm. Feel that pussy stretching around my cock” 

Your eyes roll back as your head lolls to the side, presenting your neck to him and giving him the opportunity to finish what he started earlier, which of course he does. 

And the second is lips are on your skin, his pace picks up and the pain turns to pleasure. You feel him so deep inside of you that you just know if he were to pull out that you’d feel emptier than ever.

“God, yes. Ransom. Fuck” your legs wrap tight around his waist, forcing him in even deeper if that’s possible at all but still you do it. Wanting nothing more than to feel as much of him as physically possible.

So you wrap your arms around him, your fingers tracing shapes on his back, causing him to shiver and growl loudly “fucking take this cock baby, take it like a good girl” he starts, adjusting his pace from fast and rough to slow and hard. Ramming in each time he speaks “such a good girl” thrust “loving every inch of this cock huh?” thrust “god this pussy” thrust “is gonna have me cumming way too quick” thrust.

“I can’t have that now can i?” that’s when he shocks you, flipping you over so that you’re on top “ride me baby, show daddy what you got” the nickname he uses for himself has your walls spasming, catching his attention.

“Oh you like that huh? Such a dirty girl for daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy” despite never using that in the bedroom before, it feels weirdly satisfying, having him refer to himself as daddy and seeing how he gets when you call him that too, the way his mouth hangs open, the way his cock twitches. 

It’s something you’ll never forget.

You start off by collapsing onto his chest, your breasts pushed up against his pecs as you slowly lift your ass up before sinking back down onto him, earning a hiss. 

“Yeah just like that, make daddy proud baby” so you do, you go again. And again. And again. Getting quicker each time until you’re a pro at it. You then sit up, continuing to bounce up and down, grinding as he bottoms out, with his initial instructions of course. He guides you through it and before he even tries to help a second time, he takes his hands away, noticing how you’re doing it all by yourself.

Grinding like the whore he’s turned you into. You can’t help the confidence beaming off of you as you go to work, slamming yourself down on his cock eagerly. You need that sweet release now more than ever, as does he.

“That’s it baby, make yourself cum” 

The best pout and puppy dog eyes make a return “fuck me. Please daddy” and who is he to say no to you?

“You’re gonna be the death of me i swear” he flips you over again, keeping himself seated deep inside of you as his pace turns animalistic. 

“Mhmm, give it to me, i’m gonna cum” you plead, not that he’d ever deny you a mind blowing orgasm in the first place as it’s clear you’ve never had one like the one he’s about to give you.

“Bet he could never fuck like this huh? Make you moan like a fucking porn star for him. Gonna have your legs shaking baby, hold on to me” 

So you do. 

Your grip tightens around his neck. 

With every hit to your g-spot, he nudges you closer until yet again, stars cloud your vision and your toes curl. Your back arches up so that you’re chest to chest and you cum with a shaky and satisfied cry. He doesn’t stop though, plowing into you to chase his own release. Your legs are most definitely shaking.

Your walls continue to clamp down on him, spurring it on. 

“God i’m gonna cum”

“Cum for me daddy” is all he needed to hear to go crazy and that’s when he spasms himself. His thick seed filling the condom and his thrusts get slower and harder. Riding both of your highs out. 

Your breathing is heavy, your heart beat is out of control but you feel complete. 

You’ve never experienced anything like that before. 

He pulls out, disposing of the condom and rushing into the en suit for a second before returning with a wash cloth. He uses it to clean you up, taking his time and making sure to be extra careful with you. You try to prop yourself up on your elbow but struggle due to him fully ruining your body.

“Just relax baby, let me take care of everything” he presses a couple of kisses to your thighs and then your stomach, pausing to throw the wash cloth into the hamper before making his way back up to your lips.

He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side and draping an arm around your body so you lay your head down on his chest.

“So” you both say at the same time, causing a laughing fit to erupt.

“That was certainly an experience” 

“I told you that i was gonna worship you and i think you can agree i delivered” 

“You did more than just deliver Ransom”

“Please do tell me more” he laughs, stroking your hair.

“How on earth are you single?” the question that’s been on your mind since you and him got talking at the bar. He’s acted in a way that not many men do these days, it’s hard to believe no ladies are lining up to be with him.

Plus his dick and head game is A-1.

“I’m single more by choice than anything else”

“How come?” you feel bad for asking but surely if you were over stepping the line then he’d say.

“I mean, my family life hasn’t always been the best. I’ve learnt to not trust anyone that i’m related to and growing up with parents that just chucked money at stuff to solve it. If i was upset then it was always take this money, go shopping. Or if i needed my mother for girl advice it always lead to my dad telling me i should never trust women which is rich seeing as he cheats on my mom all the time”

It’s quite sad actually, a man that seems to have it all together, is clearly broken inside.

“I’m sorry, that’s awful. I’m guessing that’s why you’re single then, why you choose to keep away from dating”

“Yup. I prefer to just fuck with no strings attached. It’s easier, I don’t have to do anything other than make them cum. I’m not filled with pressure to be the perfect boyfriend. I can just relax but sometimes it gets lonely”

“How’d you mean? Sorry if i’m prying” you rest your head on your hands as you look up at him, his finger tracing shapes on your back now.

“It’s fine honestly, don’t sweat it. I guess the best way to explain it is that i can have all this money from my grandfather, all the cars, girls and friends in the world but i can’t trust any of them enough to let them see me when i’m laying in bed at night. The times when i just want someone to hold, someone to hold me, tell them about my day, hear about theirs. Someone to wake up next to and fall asleep next to. But whenever a woman gets even remotely close to me in a way that is too deep. I back off, i give her the cold shoulder and just ghost. I get freaked out because to me, there’s nothing scarier than someone seeing all of me, the good, the bad and the ugly”

It takes you just a second to realise, he’s just bared his soul to you. After saying that he backs off whenever a woman gets too close. After saying that he struggles to trust. That he’s scared of being himself around someone. He’s just been himself around you. And you have no doubt that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that so that’s gotta count for something, surely.

“I get it. It’s hard. Loving someone is easy but allowing them to love you, that’s the scary part. Because ultimately when you let someone in enough to let them love you whole heartedly it opens you up to the chance of heartbreak i mean, look at my life”

You both laugh a little “It’s not even just regular heartbreak, it’s the fear of being cheated on, having my trust shattered. Having someone use me for my family’s money”

“Well, for what it’s worth. I think you need to just bite the bullet, let that guard down. How do you ever expect to find what you want and need if you’re not willing to open yourself up to it. It’s a risk that is worth it sometimes, that eventually, all the heartaches will lead to something greater or someone. Someone that will accept every flaw you have and be there regardless of how messy things can get”

Ransom is just so relaxed right now, he feels at peace, at ease with you. The way you’re listening. Your head rested on his chest, letting him hold you and giving him proper responses, it shows you’re paying attention, you want to be there for him. He’s completely taken back by you. How could anyone want to cheat and leave you, it’ll always remain a mystery to him.

You’re like this ray of light, that came into his life tonight out of the blue. Someone who’s hurting too but somehow you amazing him with the sunshine you provide. You’re everything he’s always wanted in a girlfriend but he’s spent years pushing girls just like you to the side due to fear. Only difference is, he’s able to be himself with you. With them, he could never.

His body lets go as he turns on his side, turning you with him so that he’s cuddling you from behind.

“You’re right. I’ll get there eventually. I just, i need time”

Your silent for a while, taking his words in before you speak.

“Seems like you don’t need any time at all”

That’s when you hear quiet snores from behind you, he’s dozing. And after a couple of minutes, you decide that it’s probably time you see yourself out, you never wanna over stay your welcome and right now with him asleep, you already have.

But before you can even get off the bed, you need to remove his hand from around your frame. Which isn’t going to be easy considering you have to try not to wake him up.

You succeed, finally managing to scoot over to the edge of the bed. But that’s when you hear his tired groans, followed by a hand to your wrist.

“Don’t leave me” his voice is laced with worry

“What?”

“Everyone leaves me” his words break your heart all over again, you’ve been left before and you’re not about to do this to him. Besides, it’s not like you wanted to, you just didn’t think he was the type to want you here all night.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to be here when you woke up”

“Well, you thought wrong. Come back and cuddle, don’t leave like everyone else does”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you to crawl back into his arms. He presses a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you get under the covers with him. Then the kisses move to your cheek and eventually, your lips.

“I’m here to stay then i guess”

“Good”

You feel warm and happy somehow in his arms, like everything has gone away, even if it’s just temporarily.

“Goodnight” 

“Goodnight Ransom. sweet dreams” something you’ve always said throughout your whole life. It’s a nice thing to say and it has him smiling into one last kiss before he closes his eyes for the night.

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

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @rockyrogers 

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina 

[stellocchia]

Today I’m departing from my normal analysis content to bring you all an Overly Long Analysis of Foolish’s lore!

Why? Because I love him dearly and that was literally the best thing that came out of the Red Banquet... 

Am I late to this? Yes, but, you know... better late then never, am I right?

As always from here on out I will be talking about the character in the rp unless stated otherwise

Sadly, Foolish does not have a vod channel, so the only link I can provide here is the twitch link: Death? - Dream SMP (LORE)

The stream starts with Foolish’s death scene at the Red Banquet. To be more exact, during Puffy’s and Ant’s discussion. 

Now, it’s important to give a bit of context to all of this: 

The Red Banquet was a trap organized by the Eggpire to kill anyone who ever opposed it (and Hbomb... which is fair). After a bunch of uno reverse scenes it looks like the Eggpire is winning and, at first, they call up Eret to be executed. Foolish opposes this by trying to summon lightning once again to destory the Egg, but this fails and Foolish is put on the chopping block instead. Puffy loudly opposes this as Foolish is her son (aopted or just son-figure? I’m not sure) and her and Ant get into a discussion about this where Ant blames her for everything that happened because she left the Eggpire, while she debates that, no, their actions are their own responsability and she was trying to do her best all the while Foolish tries to reassure Puffy that, indeed, it isn’t her fault. The debate then gets cut short by Ant executing Foolish.

Screen cuts to black and we hear the distorted voice of the Egg before Foolish comes back inside the green light of his beacon in his pyramid.

Now, I think that one of the most interesting things about this stream was the great weight given to the death, despite it being Foolish’s first one, but also the idea of Foolish, who is a God of life, formerly God of death, coming to the realization that even he is not immune to death and coming to the slow realization that he is now scared. In fact, he is terrified of dying, but that’s not all. He is also scared of the Egg and scared of going back to what he once was. Of course I’ll be talking more in depth about it, but this are the general themes of the stream: coming to terms with mortality, coming to terms with fears and confronting his past.

His first reactions to being back are confusion and then denial:

“Wha...? No... was that...? Is- did I...? Did I d...?” and right after “No. No no no no no. I’m immortal. No no no no no" 

Also, cool description of death: “It felt different, it was- I- I felt something, I was- I was somewhere, but it was- it was nowhere it was... it was dark but it wasn’t just nothing”

After his moment of disorientation is over Foolish remembers about the Baqnuet and immediately starts wondering what happened there and wether the other partecipants were still alive. His musings though get interrupted by the Egg who starts talking once again to him, this time though the Egg’s voice is not distorted, which could indicate the link between them getting stronger after part of Foolish’s life force went to feed the Egg.

“Where are you? I know that voice!” “I am in your mind” “No. No no no...” “I am in your soul” “No! no no no no. This is- this is just tricks, games. This is... something new” “It is not a dream” “Is this- is this the Egg?”

So, at first Foolish is still in denial, he recognizes the voice as he’s spoken with the Egg in the past, but he doesn’t admit that that’s who he is talking with until the Egg points out that everything that Foolish is experiencing is real. Which is interesting because, up until that moment, he was also fully in denial about his death and only start questioning that afterwards.

“Call me what you want, I have many names as you know but you’ve forgotten” “What do you mean? What do you mean? No no no no, I never heard of you before, wasn’t that long ago that I first met you. You’re something new, something that I’ve never met before”

Now, before jumping the gun and saying that Foolish is yet another member of the amnesiac gang, we have to remember that Foolish has: 1) lived a really long life and probably seen lots of things, forgetting something is normal and 2) Foolish seems to do an active effort to repress anything having to do with his past as a Totem of Death. The second one is what I want to focus on because the Egg seems to have known Foolish back when he was still covering that role, as it’ll be mentioned later. It is also possible that when Foolish and the Egg first met the Egg wasn’t in this form (after all we know that it does have another form) and Foolish simply fails to realize that the 2 are the same thing.

“I’m an ancient one, even more ancient then you”

We did have some idea of this with both “The Masquerade” and “The Village That Went Mad” from tftsmp alluding to it (the second one mostly through Ponk’s lore), but now we’ve had the confirmation that the Egg is indeed something that has existed for a long time (how powerful that makes it is debatable considering how the story has framed it thus far). 

“I’m not afraid of you! Even after all that I’m still... not afraid”

Denial seems to be Foolish’s first response to anything new he experiences. I’m sure someone smarter then me could draw some interesting parallels to Tubbo here, but that’s not me!

“Afraid... you are truly Foolish if you thought you were stronger then me... you should be afraid” “Maybe... maybe I had it wrong. Maybe I thought I was stronger... but I’m still here!”

The confident facade is starting to crumble, although he has yet to accept the fact that he has in fact died or that he may be truly afraid, some doubts are starting to creep in.

“Foolish, when we met you said you feared nothing, but now I can sense your fear Foolish” “No no” “You fear death itself” “No!” “Don’t you~?” 

The taunting continues and more of the facade keeps crumbling. It seems for once that the Egg is in fact capable of manipulation (which I started to doubt as it failed to corrupt most people it came in contact with). The Egg seems to know what are Foolish’s weak points at the very least.

“I know who you are, even though you have forgotten something of what you are”

After this premise Foolish challenges the Egg to tell him something only he would know. So first of all the Egg brings up Foolish’s secret room and ‘what he keeps in there’ and, at first, Foolish’s ponts out that the Egg could be lying, but then realizes that it is, in fact, in his head and starts to find a way to get rid of it. Later the Egg picks this up again revealing that it knows about the deal with Ranboo to try and stop Foolish from getting rid of it.

“You still think like you’re gonna get me to join your side? It’s not gonna happen!”

And here we get Foolish’s refusal and the actual motive for why the Egg is even talking to him in the first place. The Egg tries to convince him to join it by harping on that Foolish how he is now is “weak” and tries to convince him to go back to how he was before, when he was a Totem of Death. But, as I said, Foolish actively despises his past and he doesn’t bend to the promises of power because, as a matter of fact, he tried that already and it didn’t work for him. Foolish has no interest in power (he still desperately searches for control though) which is actually quite unique for a Dsmp character...

“I’ve tried ‘power’ in the past and it doesn’t work! It doesn’t work! You can’t just use overwhelming force, it works for... short-term at best” (...) “I can’t control the actions of the world through overwhelming power, it doesn’t work. It just doesn’t”

(Wish the dumbasses from Doomsday would learn this...)

Either way Foolish explains that strenght, power and violence didn’t work for him in the past because they simply can’t work. Not long term at least. All the while building provides him with a sense of control over his own creations satisfying both his desire for control and his desire to create.

“Deep down you miss the power you once held. Go back to being a Totem of Death and together we can rule and create peace. Peace is what you want, right Foolish?” “Yes but it doesn’t work that way! It doesn’t work that way! It’ll never work that way...”

After a few moments of hesitation their conversation draws to a close with Foolish bathing himself in the water from Church Prime, with a honestly iconinc line: “You know, and I mean this in the most polite way possible, go to Hell”. This is also when the facade he’s had to somewhat keep up until now completely crumbles. Suddenly he realizes that he is too late to help anyone and doesn’t even know if anyone is still alive at all. He also starts confronting the fact that he died and the implication of this being that he is mortal. He also confronts the fact that he is scared. 

“Did I really die?” “Why am I afraid of it?” “How can I live such a long life and be afraid of it to end?” “I don’t see beauty in mortality” “I can’t die, can I?” “Even if I could die, why am I so afraid?” “The answers... I just want answers!”

He doesn’t find answers to his panic induced questions but, then again, he is not supposed to. Death doesn’t have a meaning, it’s just a function of life, nothing lasts forever. The same goes with fear. Even if in this case it is far from 

inexplicable for him to be afraid of the Egg or of dying (as one was the direct cause of the other in his case), fear is still an emotion. Emotions aren’t rational by definition. Basically what I’m saying is that there aren’t always answers to be had. Sometimes questions are meant to remain as such and that’s what makes them meaningful.

“Every time I thought I knew the Egg, every time I though I understood, I never had it right? Was I arrogant about it the whole time?”

He also seems to have developed a level of paranoia about the Egg, wondering how much it knew, how many people knew about his stuff, if he is safe anywhere or if the Egg was right about him and what he wanted. He also starts questioning his own perception of reality and wondering if the Banquet itself was just an illusion created by the Egg.

It’s also interesting that Foolish remains of the opinion that no-one in the Eggpire is at fault. No matter what happens to him he still sees the Egg as a sort of infection and all those under it’s control as victims just as much as anyone else the Egg harms. 

(Also the sun is used once more as a simbol of hope, though Foolish describes it as “cruel” because it disappears)

The stream ends with Foolish promising to himself that he’ll figure things out. Though, as I said before, sometimes the point of a question is to not have an answer.

[rein-ette]

If you still fancy a drabble prompt, I've always seen Canada and England having a very warm and comfortable relationship- if it interests you, maybe a prompt could be one going to the other for advice about something?

It does indeed interest me, thank you for the prompt! I've had a bunch of Mattie-Arthur scenarios swimming around in my mind for a long time, so I'm glad to have a chance to put one of them down on paper. As always, this was supposed to be a "drabble" but magically lengthened itself the more I thought about it -- I don't think drabbles are supposed to have historical notes.

"Come in."

Matthew shifted his pile of papers to his other arm and pushed through the door of Arthur's office. Inside, the fading afternoon light illuminated the rich mahogony floor and danced on the spines of the hundreds of books that lined each wall. Remembering the excitement he felt when he was first allowed to peruse these shelves, Matthew couldn't help but smile softly to himself.

Arthur himself sat at his desk, one ankle propped up on his knee as he stared idly out the window. Matthew could just barely see a white trim of bandages that peeked out from underneath his collar. That dimmed his smile. It had been more than two years now since the war had ended in Europe, but Arthur still looked as gaunt as he did during the days when engines still roared over London and — though Matthew had not thought it possible — even more exhausted. The worn smile Arthur offered him said as much, and Matthew pushed away a twinge of guilt.

Arthur jerked his chin at the seat in front of his desk and Matthew sat, stacking his documents in a neat pile in front of him. Instead of immediately going through them, however, he gazed worriedly at his old guardian.

"How are you feeling?"

Arthur sighed and shifted in his seat, dropping his leg and turning to face Matthew. He stared at the ancient, ink-stained wood of his desk for a while, and Matthew could almost see the warring emotions on Arthur's face as his desire to be honest fought with his lingering instinct to conceal and protect Matthew from the worries that plagued him. But because they were past such pretenses, he finally murmured, "Tired."

Matthew hummed sympathetically in response. There wasn't much he could do or say to change that, and he expected the reports he brought would only exhaust Arthur further. So he merely asked, "Are you remembering to apply the salve twice a day?"

Matthew flushed a little when Arthur rolled his eyes at him good-naturedly, realizing he was fussing like Arthur was his child, instead of the other way around. Thankfully, Arthur spared him further embarrasment by only answering a tad dryly that yes, he was actually capable of following simple instructions. Matthew mumbled out a reply before deciding that he might as well get on with what he was actually here for, knowing Arthur had never been one for small talk. Clearing his throat, he slid the top half of his stack of papers across the desk.

"They sent you a copy of Lord Mountbatten's plan, I think with annotations, though I haven't gone through the whole thing. And this part is the proposal for the national flag. Also," he pulled a cream letter from the pile and passed that over as well, "India asked that you be there personally, in August," he finished.

Arthur hummed and rifled through the papers. Matthew couldn't quite read his expression. After a few moments, he stacked them again and placed them to the side, with the letter on top. "Thanks. I'll go through them later."

Matthew nodded. "And here I just summarized the letters and stuff from the others. I've left them back in the box, in case you wanted to read them yourself. There's not too much going on really. That you don't already know."

"Yes. Thank you. This is a great help, Matthew, truly."

"You're welcome," Matthew murmured, and watched Arthur scan the notes before setting them aside as well. His eyes traced the shadows underneath the other nation's eyes, before dropping back down to the cotton bandages around his neck. He wondered if Arthur was sleeping at all.

"Is there anything else I can do? I'm heading back to Ottawa next week, but if you need me to take over some stuff for a bit, I can stay longer —"

"No, no, it's fine," Arthur cut him off. "Like I said, I'm just a little tired, that's all. But all this," he waved a hand at the documents , "isn't anything new."

Matthew frowned. "Isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, I know the paperwork isn't new, but, these," he drew a breath, "reforms, and the war, of course. That's — I mean. No one's, you know, had to deal with that, before."

Arthur frowned, and traced a finger along the edge of his desk, before sighing, "No, I guess not." He turned again to look out the window behind him. After several long moments, he said, quietly, "But it's not entirely unexpected, either. I just—" The corner of his lips jerked down, and for a moment it seemed as if he was almost in pain. He drew in a breath, and said, "It's just. Difficult. That's all. To—but." He stopped again, grimaced, as if at his own ineloquence. Finally, he said, slowly, as carefully as if he was embroidering the words onto the air between them, "The world is changing. Let us not stand in the way, lest they make us out to be fools."

Watching him struggle, Matthew found himself at a loss as well. Never had he imagined that Arthur — sharp-tongued, quick-witted Arthur, who could neither be bullied nor silenced, who could quote from more books than Matthew had ever read — would be scrambling for words. But then, as he watched Arthur's shoulders curve in towards himself like Matthew had seen a thousand times before in another stubborn, sandy-haired nation who also seemed to have endless words but never quite the right ones, he knew what he needed to do.

Smiling again, Matthew stood, drawing on Arthur's arm so he would turn to face him and said, "I think you need a hug."

Unnecessarily Long Notes are Unnecessarily Long

I didn't state the specific setting of this scene, but the timing of the historical events mentioned means it has to have been sometime between June and August of 1947. Despite the fact that Mattie says "not much is going on", my lord, a lot was going on in 1947; hence why Artie is doing his best impression of the walking dead. Besides the Indian and Pakistan independence movement, officially achieved in August 1947 which is alluded to (Mountbatten, or 3 June Plan, was the precursor to the Indian Independence Act of 1947), Europe was also going through complete social upheaval. To mention just a couple highlights: Germany was in such ruin it was said to have returned to the Roman ages, Britain was rationing harder than ever despite the war having ended, and of course Mr. Truman and Mr. Stalin were gearing up for the Great Showdown. A quote I like which captures the feeling of the time is from H.G. Wells: "[where] other civilizations rolled and crumbled down, the European civilization was, as it were, blown up." [quoted by Tony Judt, Postwar]. Also directly concerning Arthur was the issue of Palestine, which as we all know was and is contentious, to say the very least.

Arthur's attitude to decolonisation is...complicated. Clearly I went with a softer view here, but certainly not all (or even many) British held the view in 1947 that the Empire should be decolonized at all. Hence Arthur during this time was probably a raging hypocrite and, if he wasn't already, at least 50% psychologically unstable. However, I allowed Arthur a little dignity here, in part because he's 2000 years old and as such should have a tiny more perspective than us humans, and also because the weakness of the Empire was much more evident to those in government and the army. Even if it wasn't popular opinion yet, anyone with half a braincell could see that every day Britian didn't decolonize was costing them more than they could afford. Additionally, Britain did decolonise much, much faster than all the other powers and in a relatively peaceful and orderly manner, though what ensued in the countries they left behind was neither. I should also add that Matthew is not the most objective of narrators either -- Canada, despite being a former colony, was still strongly Anglophilic, especially right after WWII. Still, I hope ya'll won't begrudge Arthur a hug.

[jasperswh0re]

Savior [Raylan Givens x reader]

Part four! Sorry this is so late. Also sorry it’s kinda short. Gender neutral reader as always :D also I finally realized a good ending to this series, there might be only a few more parts left

Summary: Raylan finds out why you’re in Kentucky. And it seems that you’re the calm before the storm.

Word count: 1,446

Warnings: Alludes to sexy times but its skipped over (i dont write smut, sorry)

part three

---

You were forced into protection by the U.S. Marshall service the morning after the attack. Raylan didn’t give you much of a choice. The unanswered question still lingered in the air. 

You never answered him. You’ve been dead silent since the night before. It was starting to give him a headache. Actually, maybe that was the hangover.

Raylan was pacing around his workspace, waiting for your interview with his coworkers to end. He didn’t have the opportunity to sit in on the interview since Art said it was a conflict of interest.

Eventually, Rachel and Tim left the conference room simultaneously. You stayed in your seat while thinking over everything. Raylan wanted to go and comfort you but he needed answers.

The look in his eyes was enough for Rachel to skip past him, throwing some excuse to grab a coffee. Tim attempted to do the same but Raylan placed a hand on his coworker’s chest and stopped him in his place.

“Why are they here?” Tim remained silent. “Tim-” He said slowly, keeping his eyes on the ground- “If I don’t know why they’re here... Then I can’t help them. Any information you give me can save their life.”

The deputy looked to the side and sighed, “They’re in Kentucky because of some sort of family thing.”

“Family thing?”

Tim met his friend’s eyes, “They’re distantly related to the Crowder’s. They suspect that Bo Crowder is after them.”

Raylan was frozen where he stood. His eyes flickered to you in the conference room. The rim of his hat barely hid his deadly glance. 

You were messing with a dent on the table. You could feel his stare. All you wanted to do was melt away forever.

“Alright,” Raylan held his composure. “I’m taking them out of town.”

“Art knew you would say that. I’m coming with you.”

The majority of the car ride was silent and Tim could feel the tension in the air. As he sat in the passenger’s seat, his eyes would dart between you and Raylan.

You were comfortable in the backseat. Tim was kind enough to get you coffee from the office, as crappy as it was. As usual, you were unnervingly calm.

Raylan tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, biting down on his lower lip. Everything he wanted to let out he held in for as long as he could.

The two marshalls came to the conclusion that it would be best if you stayed at Raylan’s motel. Your room was next door and easy access for both of them. But the three of you stayed in Raylan’s room for the time being. You still never spoke.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in,” Tim stood. “Raylan, are you taking the bed or will you be a gracious host?”

Raylan threw a playful glare at his coworker and gestured towards the bed. You stood from your seat across from him.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Raylan stood up quicker than any bullet shot from his gun. You held up a hand to stop him but he followed anyway.

“Goodnight, Raylan,” You said, facing the doorway and clutching the knob. Raylan flipped you around by the shoulder, keeping you against the wooden frame.

“What is the matter with you?”

“Excuse me?” You stared at him with a certain harshness. His brown eyes were desperate.

“You’re- ...You’re insane! You’re completely insane, (Y/n),” Raylan whined. “Someone is after you and you’re sitting like a duck. A duck waiting to be shot.”

“I am not a duck, Raylan.”

“You know that’s not the point,” He stuck his finger at you.

"Then what is the point?”

Raylan’s voice went up in volume. “The point is that you’re not afraid!” 

“Why should I be?” You matched his voice.

“Because you could die!” Raylan lifted his hands as if he was about to cup your face but didn’t. His large hands dropped while he stared at the floor, trying to wipe the stress off of his face. 

“The fact is you nearly died,” He talked slowly. “...And with your lack of a response to the situation... I am inclined to believe that you’re not bothered by that fact.”

It took a while for you to respond.

“I’m not.”

“Why?” He whined. “Why in the world are you okay with that?”

You looked away from his face, afraid of what you could say when staring into his eyes. “I’m not okay with it. It’s just... complicated.”

“Try me.”

You looked back at him after a moment passed. It dawned on you that he hadn’t stopped staring at you in the past thirty-six hours. Like you would vanish at any second.

The Kentucky breeze flew by your figures. A cool comparison to the heat your bodies shared. 

Raylan was so worried. You hated to see him like this. If he knew the truth, would it make everything better or worse?

You drew a long sigh and pushed Raylan onto the outdoor furniture on the porch. His hard gaze remained.

“Assuming you know I’m related to the Crowder’s,” You began. “Only distantly... But not distant enough.”

“I’m aware of the Crowders,” Raylan said. “I didn’t know you were from Harlan.”

“I’m not,” You said. “Not really. My parents had me in Louisiana, but when I was three I moved to Kentucky. In another small town not far from Harlan... We visited often.”

You scratched your forearm, suddenly nervous. Raylan had never seen you like this. You continued.

“Long story short, my parents got involved in the drug business that Bo Crowder was in charge of. They never repaid their debts and...” You could feel yourself tearing up. “Now they’re gone. They had someone sent up to Oregon to off them... Honestly, the Crowder’s have been tormenting my life since.”

You didn’t dare look him in the eye as he placed a comforting hand on your back. 

“I figured I would just get it over with... I have no money to spare so-”

“So you just offer yourself up... Like- like... Some sort of sacrifice?” Raylan stared at you wildly.

“I have nothing to lose, Raylan,” You met his furious eyes. “I have nothing left in my life. The only family I had left in the world is gone.”

All Raylan could do was stare at you. He watched as silent tears trickled down your cheeks. He inched towards your figure and inclined his head to place a subtle kiss on your cheek, where the tear streaks ran.

You looked at him dumbfounded and found yourself unable to speak. Raylan gently kissed your other cheek, then continued to do this until his lips met yours. They were hesitant. Gentle. You leaned into his body, finally allowing him in. 

Your hands lifted to his cheeks. You could feel the stubble on his skin as you inhaled his scent. He tasted like whiskey but smelled like Cypress. 

Somewhere along the lines of this, you found yourself pressed against the cushiony duvet of your motel bed. Raylan’s large hands trailed all over your body as you did your best to rip off his extra clothing. 

By the end of the night, you both were cozied under the covers. Raylan’s grasp on you was tight. With one arm under and another over your torso, his head rested comfortably on your own, you stayed in a spooning position. Neither of you spoke for a long time but remained awake.

“I’m here,” Raylan finally said.

You hummed in response, too tired to speak. 

“You said everyone was gone... Well... I’m here,” His southern drawl was deep and full of compassion. 

“Raylan...”

“No, no... You had your time to speak,” He said. “...You know... I’ve been running around this damned state for weeks. Hell of a lot longer before you came along.”

You stayed silent.

“And I get it. I know how easy it is to give up. I don’t love it here, not as much as the next person,” He chuckled. “But laying eyes on you, that day we met... Life felt a little different in Kentucky. I found myself involuntarily looking for you... How weird is that?”

You gave a tiny laugh, holding Raylan’s hand against your beating heart. “Kinda weird...”

He sighed, “Then I saw you in that bar again. For a split second, it was like I could breathe. It was like I was drowning and you were the breath of fresh air.”

Taking in Raylan’s words, you didn’t say a thing. You slowly kissed his fingertips before falling into a deep sleep. When your breathing steadied, Raylan nestled his face into the crook of your neck. He slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.