#did the writers even watch their own show??
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Possibly leah can propose to alessia, and get lovie involved or leah moves in permanently and lovie only wants to sleep with them. Hope the writers block goes away
SLEEP SCARES — alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader
i’m back! well sort of-
just a quick lil something as i feel as though i’ve lowkey forgotten about yall. but i promise it’s with good reason, life’s been busy and i’m on holiday rn but im hoping when i get home i can get back to normal and start to get some more fic/blurbs out for you all🙃
grumpy masterlist
as a baby and as you grew that little bit older, alessia could generally say she had been quite lucky with how easy it was for you to get to sleep.
she had never really had any issues with you waking up during the night — of course there had been the odd occasion when you’d been poorly but other than that, you liked sleeping in your own bed.
however, ever since your little mind had discovered the secret of your mummy and leah and the fact they were more than friends. your bed and room wasn’t as comfy and cool anymore. you instead now wanted to be in your mummy’s bed watching whatever silly adult show was showing on the tv sneaking a few sweets which you really shouldn’t be having after brushing your teeth.
this cycle had occurred more often when leah was staying the night, “how long do you think it’ll be until lovie’s wondering through the door?” alessia whispered as the two were lying tangled together in bed, the only light coming from the tv which was on a low hum.
“hm i’d give it at least thirty minutes” leah rasped out as she ran a hand through alessia’s hair, alessia humming in response, sinking deeper into leah’s arms.
the two knew that there time together wouldn’t last long until you were tip toeing sleepily into the room with your elephant under your arm as your eyes were filled with sleep.
alessia and leah had dosed off, the tv playing adverts as the door creeped open. you tip toeing so lightly, as you climbed into the bed from the bottom. sinking yourself inbetween the two.
alessia feeling the movement, as her eyes opened slightly. “lovie? what you doing?” your mummy questioned as she sleepily yawned, moving a little from leah’s warmth. you sat in the middle of the bed on your knees, a sleepy look on your face.
“can’t sleep, there noises in my room” you pouted as your shoulders sunk down. a flash of worry came across alessia’s face as her brow furrowed downwards slightly.
“what do you mean noises?” alessia asked as she sat up, her back resting against the headboard of her bed reaching over to turn on the side lamp. moving with much caution hoping not to wake the sleeping blonde beside her. knowing the grumpy mood she would wake in if she was woken up from her slumber.
are you sure it’s not just the wind?” alessia pushed more knowing sometimes the sound of the wind can sometimes make some scary noises.
you shrugged, a small yawn falling from your lips. “i sleep in here” you cutely asked, your eyes forming a pleading look as a small sigh came from your mummy’s lips.
“do you not want mummy to come and lie in your bed with you?” she asked, hopeful that would be the best solution. but you shook your head, the bed slightly shaking as you did so.
alessia surrendering as she whispered out a yes, not wanting the hassle of trying to coax you back into your own bed as admittedly she just wanted to get back to sleep herself.
your mummy moving slightly to make a small gap in the bed for you to lie in as a small smug smile of victory flashed across your lips as you flopped into bed. your mummy placing a kiss to your cheek as she whispered good night in your ear, circling small shapes on your back.
it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep as your chest started to rise slower indicating you had fell asleep, alessia still tracing shapes on your back as she noticed leah starting to move around.
leah’s eyes opening for a split second before they closed but even through the darkness alessia never missed the small smile which was on her lips.
“at least it was longer than the thirty minutes we thought” leah whispered out as a quiet chuckle left alessia’s lips.
#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#woso x reader#woso community#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#grumpy universe asks#grumpy universe#enwoso
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Talk To Me // LH44
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Mostly unestablished relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not edited
Word Count: 9.6k+
Summary: It's hard to know what someone else is thinking when you don't let them into your own thoughts, but Lewis will certainly show you exactly what's on his mind If you let him.
Notes: Lmao so my poll was pointless, here's all of it all at once! My little fingers were flying tonight! Some fluff, some angst, some smut, followed by some more fluff, just what we all love. I don't have much to say about this one other than ENJOY! I'll be working on a one shot based on that stupid little gladiator fit, the outfit did nothing for me but THE ARMS AND THE FACE??? best believe we need a lil something based on that. Love y'all!!!
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
“I’m so sorry I have to cut this short hun.” Lewis said as he wiped his mouth across the table, his eyes truly apologetic.
“I’m just glad I got to see you for a few minutes while you were here.” You said softly, your heeled foot brushing his calf under the table, your words coming out much shyer than your actions.
It wasn’t that you and Lewis were new to each other, far from it. You had met him at the beginning of his season and now here he was, just a few weeks away from moving to Ferrari. Every break he had he’d made time to see you, yet he’d been a perfect gentleman the entire time. Yes, the pet names were laid on in excess and the touches had begun to linger a few months ago but you were becoming restless for more. You really couldn’t blame yourself when he had the audacity to sit across the table from you looking so incredible, being so sweet every time he suggested you get together. Yes, you may have turned him down at first but this was getting ridiculous, there's no way you two were not on the same page.
“I don’t want to cut anything short, I wish I could stay, I really do,” He paused as he reached forward to grab your hand, “but I have a red carpet in like two days and I have to meet with Eric.”
“Mmm,kay” you huffed out infantly.
“Nah, don’t do that, I’ll see you before I head out, I promise.” He smirked at your attitude, squeezing your hand.
“So you don’t have any time for a pretty girl in between dinner and Eric?” You asked, attempting to layer the sultry and lust in your voice as you let your foot wander higher.
“Y/N.” His voice came out strained but stern, his strong hand grabbing your leg, “I cut it close by even getting dinner with you tonight, just couldn’t stay away.”
“So it sounds like I win over Eric.” You giggled, leaning forward on the table, your calf still in his strong palm.
“Don’t do this to me,” He groaned, “Listen I can leave the tab open, just don’t go home with anyone unless you’re calling me.”
“What if I call you in like 10 minutes?” you giggled again, his hand snaking up your calf despite how composed he was trying to stay.
“Y/N.” He warned, his voice low but his hand never ceasing its exploration.
“Well you go have fun with business things I guess, I’ll be here enjoying the atmosphere and free drinks, as long as I end my night with you.” You told him with a laugh as he stood up, dropping your leg abruptly, no amusement to be shown on his face.
“Not so sure you know what you just asked for baby girl, enjoy the drinks, I’ll send you a car.” Lewis whispered, bent down so only you could hear, making your stomach flip, finishing with a kiss to your cheek.
You watched as his muscular body moved away, staring at him intently as he told the host something while looking directly at you. Through the rest of the evening you enjoyed free drinks while sat with the best view, you listened as the dinner atmosphere turned into a club yet no one disrupted you unless they were refilling your drink. You were happily buzzed and seconds later your phone was buzzing just as much as you were.
“I couldn’t just send a car…” His sultry British accent came over the speaker.
“Are you saying you’re outside to pick me up sir?” You teased him.
“Of course baby, c’mon before I hire someone to drag you out.” He chuckled
“She came in with Lewis Hamilton but he didn't leave with her”
“Heard he's been seeing some woman on the east side.”
“He can't even convince us he likes his car, why would he like her”
The laughter of the girls that were probably too young to be there anyway stuck in your chest. A 15 year olds opinion didn’t matter right? But then again they see the tabloids and you avoid them…
By the time you’re out of the restaurant and into Lewis' car you find yourself in a foul mood, your happy buzz turning into a sad drunk imagining everything he could have done in the last few hours.
“You okay love?” He asks as you plop into the passenger seat, not even waiting for him to see you and open it up for you.
“Mmmm.” You humm, still stupidly in your head.
“Y/N, what’s going on? I’m so sorry I had to leave but-” Lewis starts his argument as he pulls onto the freeway.
“You do whatever you want, Lewis.” You say sharply,
“Woah, where did that come from?” Lewis asks, sharp but inquisitive.
“I should have known you were too good for me, my lew was just a fucking phase. All the damn teenagers in the restaurant knew it… you went and got fucked by someone else, I get it, i made you wait, you’re you, you’re a playboy and I guess-” You try to rant before his hand is against your mouth
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, finally letting your mouth free with a look of pure confusion.
“What am I talking about? Where the hell did you go tonight? What are all those girls talking about?” You ask him sharply.
“Y/N, I went and saw Eric, I told you that. And are you talking about the teenage girls trying to get drinks at the bar?” His voice is firm before turning to further confusion.
“Yes Lewis, I am, they had lots to say as I left.” You try to keep your voice firm but it ends up sounding childish as you slump into your seat, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Y/N, those girls are like 15 years old and probably drunk for the first time in their lives, they were trying to drunkenly flirt with me when I left as if that isn’t a damn felony. Why the hell are you listening to anything they have to say?” His voice is incredulous, unable to process that the night has taken them to this point.
“Well you’re not denying a word they said right now, are you?” You throw back at him.
“I honestly didn’t think I had to!” He exclaims, still in disbelief.
You let out a scoff, turning to look out the window.
“Y/N, c’mon, I had a meeting with Eric, one that I was late to so I could make time to see you, I’m here to pick you up so I can spend more time with YOU. Why the hell would I be off with someone else?” His voice is firm but still holds a faint questioning tone.
“I don’t know, I’m evidently not good enough for you, I don’t even know how or why I caught your attention in the first place. I don’t even know what the hell it is that we’re doing. You haven’t even kissed me Lewis! I constantly feel like an idiot, I sit here wanting you to fuck me and the most I get out of you is you calling me ‘baby’.” You let all of your thoughts come out, against your better judgment, slumping against your seat with a huff.
He is quiet for a moment, stunned to silence. He is struggling between keeping his eyes on the road and staring at you in utter disbelief, a look you would see if you had the guts to steal a glance at him.
“I- I honestly don’t even know where to start…” He says quietly, trailing off.
“You know I’m right, that's why you don't know what to say.” You state as if it's a fact, a sassy quip in your tone as you shrug your shoulders, a sassiness that only comes out after some drinks.
He so badly wants to laugh, not only at your unusual sassiness but at just how ungodly wrong you are, but he knows that he can’t, that he shouldn’t, it would only make everything worse. Instead he does his best to stay firm.
“Sweetheart, no, you couldn’t be further from right. I adore you, I’m just…” He sighs, trying to find the way to explain his feelings without sending you further over the edge, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, I’m trying to do things a little different than I normally would. I’m out of practice with this whole romance thing and I know that you were skeptical of it at first too. I don’t want to rush you, I just love being around you.”
You scowl at being called out, knowing he’s right, you were very skeptical when you first met him, not convinced that being anything other than an acquaintance of a man of his caliber was a smart idea. You don’t dwell on it though, the liquor in your brain deciding to latch on to something else, ‘he just loves being around you’, there it is, you’re friends.
“So you’re not attracted to me?” You almost whine, if you were sober you would be embarrassed at how it came out but you can’t find it in you to care right now.
“Where the hell did you get that?” He asks, this time he can’t hold back the chuckle.
“You literally just said that you just love being around me.” You point out, still clearly not understanding much of what he said.
“Yes, and I do, how does that translate to me not being attracted to you?” He questions, a small smirk on his face as he notices that your mood is switching slightly from angry to bratty.
“You said JUST, meaning that’s all you want.” You challenge him, reading far too much into his words.
“Y/N, I also said I’m trying to be a gentleman with you and not rush you because of your feelings and boundaries.” He says calmly as he keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to get irritated with the beautiful tipsy woman next to him.
“Well how long were you planning on being a gentleman because I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for about six months now.” You say boldly.
His eyes go wide as he chokes on his own spit, not used to you being so blatant. The two of you flirt, things have gotten suggestive between you two more often than not, but you so boldly admitting something like that is new territory for him. He has to take a moment to gather himself before speaking.
“I- I didn’t know that,” He admits, his voice low, “I honestly thought you had just barely warmed up to the idea of us being more than friends.”
“What about my foot on your crotch tonight seemed like I still wanted to be just your friend?” You laugh in disbelief, slightly unsure if you are bad at putting yourself out there or if he is that bad at reading signs.
“Well yeah, tonight was pretty clear what you wanted, and to be honest I was going to give you exactly that after my meeting, it’s why I picked you up! I’ve been going crazy trying to go slow!” He exclaims.
“Was?” You question quickly.
“What?” He asks, blinking in confusion.
“You said was.” You point out.
“Oh jeez, not this again Y/N.” He huffs, ready for you to be mad at him for a whole new reason.
“No no no, you said ‘was going to give you exactly that’. You don’t want to fuck me anymore?” You pout as you question him.
He once again has to take a moment to gather himself, still unsure how to handle your unabashedness.
“No, I do! In the future, yes, and I will if you’ll let me, but you got in this car ready to cut my head off or at the very least never speak to me again, I kinda thought that the flirty mood from dinner had gone out the window.” He tries to explain as you near his house. With the argument he hadn’t even taken a moment to consider that maybe he should be dropping you at yours instead.
“So not tonight?” You huff.
“No Y/N, probably not tonight.” He says quietly, a hint of disappointment lingering in his words as he pulls into his driveway.
“Why are we here then?” You ask, unsure of what to do now.
“Just come inside for a bit, you can sleep in the guestroom if you want or I can call you a car later if you really want, but I don’t think this conversation is really done.” He coaxes you, undoing his seatbelt and turning to look at you.
“I feel like I’ve made my points.” You shrug, staying firmly seated in your spot.
This time he truly can’t help but laugh at you, getting out of the car and making his way to your door.
“Well maybe I haven’t made all of mine.” He says as he stands in the doorframe, his hand extended to help you out of the car.
You don’t say anything, choosing to stare straight ahead as the brattiness really sets in.
“Y/N, if you don’t get out of the car on your own I won’t hesitate to pick you up myself, c’mon.” His voice is slightly teasing but you can hear how serious he is.
Finally you sigh in defeat, grabbing his hand to step out of the car. You hate that the second you feel his skin on yours your whole body warms. Tingles go down your spine and everything feels just right, you’re meant to be holding his hand, you’re meant to be so much more than just friends, but right now you’re mad at him, so you do your best to shake it off. You’re confident that you played it cool but he could see the feelings from a mile away, the same warmth enveloping him the moment you placed your smaller hand in his. He would normally tease you, but right now he knows not to muddy the waters, he needs you to actually listen to him when he gets you inside. You snatch your hand back from him once you are standing, watching awkwardly as he grabs your purse and closes the car door before gesturing for you to head towards his house. You feel like a lost puppy, obeying his commands but you can’t help it, your bratty mood only has so much strength. When you get inside you feel out of place, despite having been there many times. You can’t explain exactly why you feel so bizarre about it, maybe it’s that you’re finally sobering up and starting to realize that you still have many doubts, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and realizing exactly what you accused him of in the car, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and really becoming aware that you blatantly told the man you wanted him to fuck you, regardless of what it is you would rather not be sober right now. The tension hanging in the air as he puts his jacket away is weighing on you like a heavy snow, you want him to put you out of your misery and break the silence but he doesn’t. Instead he just moves towards the kitchen, leaving you to follow him aimlessly. He grabs a glass from the cupboard as you wander over to his wine cooler, ready to make your selection for the talk you're about to have. Before you can even take in the selections you feel his hands on your waist, guiding you away and toward the kitchen island.
“Nope, I think you’ve had enough, sit.” He says firmly in your ear as he just about places you on a bar stool.
You don’t say anything, just watch as he makes his way back to the other side of the island, filling the glass he’d just taken out with water before he’s sliding it in your direction.
“I’m not thirsty.” You say, staring at the glass in front of you.
“You wanted wine about 20 seconds ago.” He deadpans, calling you out with a raise of his eyebrow.
“You know damn well that's not why I wanted the wine.” You shoot back at him, “You said you had points to make, go ahead.” You prompt him, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he shakes his head and a look of amusement creeps its way onto his face. He takes a moment, just staring at you, taking you in and you start to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
“Y/N, I don’t know what else to do.” He admits, sounding defeated.
You don’t respond verbally, furrowing your brow in confusion as you cock your head.
“I know we got to a… I guess a better place, back in the car, but I still don’t think you actually get it.” His voice is quiet, he sounds vulnerable.
This is unusual for you, you’re not used to Lewis being anything other than charming and cocky, to see him look defeated, vulnerable, it makes your stomach twist.
“I don’t get what?” You ask quietly, suddenly feeling slightly guilty.
“Hun, I try so hard. I don’t have enough time, and I know that, and I’m sorry for that, but I do my very best to see you as much as I physically can. When I’m away I try to not let a day go by where I don’t at least text you much less call you. I do stupid things with my schedule if it means I get to spend a few extra minutes with you. We’ve talked about things far deeper and greater than anything I’ve ever told my closest friends. I try to make every time I see you special because I know I’m not around for the casual moments and I have to be honest, most of that I’m not even doing for you. I’m doing it for myself because you are one of the most incredible women that I’ve ever met and I would kick myself if I let you fall through my fingers, yet here I am and it seems like I’ve done just that.” His eyes bore into yours as his words flow out freely, clearly unashamed about his feelings.
“I know you try hard, I never said you didn’t.” You say quietly, feeling almost like a child getting reprimanded after a tantrum.
“I know you didn’t say it, but I can’t help but feel it when you get in my car after a good night and immediately make it very clear that you don’t trust me.” He says firmly, his gaze never leaving yours.
“I do trust you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Then why are you listening to drunk kids in a bar gossiping about things they know nothing about? Why don’t you tell me what you want with me? Things like the fact that apparently you’ve wanted to fuck me for the last six months? Why didn’t you tell me you were starting to maybe feel differently about this whole relationship after making it very clear that I didn’t have a shot?” His questions pour out in a way that makes your stomach knot, knowing he’s right to question all of it.
“I was drunk.” You answer meekly, hoping answering one question will be enough.
He lets out a dry laugh, “Okay, we’ll write that one off. What about the rest of it, Y/N?”
“It scares the shit out of me.” You admit so quietly you’re not sure he can hear as you stare at the glass of water in front of you.
“Admitting it to me or being with me?” He questions, his voice much softer now.
“All of it.” You say, feeling tears forming in your lash line.
“Explain it to me hun, because from where I am, we have a pretty amazing thing here if we just lean into it.” He says, so softly it could make you burst.
“I spend every day questioning not only why but hell if you’re even attracted to me. I know you have a billion other options so I don’t understand why you keep coming back, I’m afraid I’m just fun for you but then I think about it and I realize I’m not even your fun! We’re in wildly different worlds and I don’t even know how anything would ever work. I worry that you won’t be able to actually commit to anything. I worry that I’m the only one here feeling like this and I’m terrified of looking stupid and I’m terrified of losing the little bit of you that I have.” You rant, your tears now slipping past your lashes.
His face immediately softens when he sees your tears, quickly stepping around the island to get closer to you. He grabs the back of your chair, turning you to face him.
“Y/N, baby, I need to remind you that the very day we met, I point blank asked you out and you turned me down,” He starts quietly, taking your face in his hands to wipe away your tears as they fall, “I argued that we seemed like a good match and you had the audacity to agree with me but told me that you wanted a man that wasn’t fucking around, wouldn’t toss you to the side when he got busy. You told me that a romance with me sounded dangerous and that wasn’t what you were looking for but I couldn’t let you slip away like that so I asked you to let me prove that I could be that for you.”
You both laugh gently, remembering the first encounter that started all of this.
“I’ve been here trying to prove it to you, trying to be the perfect gentleman that you deserve, trying not to rush you, waiting for you to tell me you were ready. You didn’t say anything until tonight. And no, I’m not an idiot, I saw you starting to flirt more openly with me, I noticed you opening up about things, things becoming more intimate, but I swore I wouldn’t cross that line until the day you told me I could. If it’s just the logistics of it, that’s something we can work out, we’re both pretty smart people, I just need you to be honest with me.” He smiles softly at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“Please kiss me.” You whimper, if your brain wasn’t processing all his words at a thousand miles an hour in the moment you may have cared about how you sounded, but after his speech all you wanted was his lips on yours.
“Is that your official way of telling me I can cross the line? That you’ll actually consider this?” He asks, his face closer to yours but still needing that final confirmation.
“God yes Lewis, I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine, I’m sorry.” You say quickly, grabbing his arms in an attempt to get him closer.
“No need to apologize, beautiful girl.” The words leave his lips softly before they press against yours.
The second you feel his warm lips and their gentle touch, you melt. You feel complete the second he’s kissed you, unsure why you fought it for so long. His grip on your face is steady, grounding, everything you need. He pulls away much too quickly for your liking, keeping the kiss sweet, too PG for what you’re craving desperately. You chase his lips making him release a giggle that only causes you to pout.
“So you approve, huh?” He teases you, his hands coming down to rest on your waist.
“Oh shush, acting like you didn’t love it too.” You say, your pout morphing into a smirk that you can’t contain.
“I didn’t say I didn’t.” He says, leaning back into your lips.
This time he’s slightly less hesitant, his lips moving against yours gently. You can tell he’s holding back still but you're just too pleased to care, only causing excitement of what's to come when he’s less restrained.
“You know, two hours ago you were ready to rail me and now you’re being almost shy with the kisses.” You laugh at him when you finally pull away for air.
“Ssshhh, I’m just getting used to the territory.” He teases you, placing another peck to your lips.
“About that whole you picking me up to bring me back here and ya know…” You trail off, hoping he gets the hint of where you’d like the evening to go.
He lets out a sigh, pinching your hip before speaking, “I know, but not tonight. Just feel like we need to take a second.”
You pout at him again to which he just chuckles, pecking your pout sweetly.
“You’re the one who wanted to take it slow.” He points out.
“You’re the one who told me I was supposed to get laid tonight.” You throw back at him.
“Well you were the one with her foot on my cock.” He says, his eyebrows raised.
You gulp, the word tumbling from his mouth making your stomach coil in a much different way than earlier in the night.
“I-” You start, all the sudden feeling shy.
“Hmmm, cats got your tongue?” He jests.
“Well you were all ready to fuck me tonight but you wouldn’t even kiss me without explicit consent.” You blurt out, trying to call him on his contradiction.
“Fair point, but you were driving me to a new level of insanity at dinner tonight and I thought I was getting the message loud and clear.” He says calmly, leaning back in to kiss you again.
You silently pray that maybe just maybe he’s going back on his word as his lips move against yours, that maybe he’s changed his mind and you’ll end up in his bed tonight, but much to your dismay he pulls away once again despite your attempts to lock him into you with your arms around his neck.
“I could get used to finally being allowed to kiss you.” He smirks.
“You could be doing a whole lot more than that, but no, you’re keeping up the whole stupid gentleman thing.” You say, irritation seeping through your words.
“You told me you wanted a gentleman.” He throws back with an eyebrow cocked, amusement clear on his face.
“Well you proved that part, I want the rest now.” You almost whine, locking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in. You find yourself annoyed for the first time by how strong he is when he doesn't move, never before being anything other than pleased by the godlike muscles under his skin.
He simply laughs at you, noticing that you're still a tiny bit tipsy, more unrestrained than usual.
“Alright, well you’ve already become a koala, how about I carry you to bed.” He chuckles, finally moving closer to you, only to pick you up.
You feel weightless and safe in his arms, quickly deciding you would let him carry you anywhere forever, a fact that you apparently accidentally state out loud in your still slightly inebriated state.
“Oh yeah? Well you let me know where you want to be carried and I’ve got you babe.” He simply chuckles as he walks toward the guest room, finding your admission endearing. All you can do is hide your blushing face in the crook of his neck.
When he finally plops you down on the mattress of the guest room you manage to pull him down into a kiss once again, one of his hands finding your waist as the other props him up above you. His lips move slower against yours this time, becoming slightly more explorative as you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You open your mouth, welcoming him eagerly, the taste of him on your tongue is intoxicating. You take one last chance at what you’ve been dying for for months, moving your hand down from his neck to slip beneath the button down that is draped over his skin. You take your time to explore the solid ridges of muscle bulging beneath soft skin, you can imagine every tattoo that your hand brushes against but you wish nothing more than to actually see them. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when you feel his grip on your waist tighten as you touch him. The sound does something to him, you can feel his whole body tense beneath your touch as you make your way to his back, raking your nails lightly down the skin.
“Please Lew, want you so bad.” You whisper against his lips.
He pulls away from you with such urgency that you're convinced he’s about to say no again. He stands tall next to you, staring at you for a moment, just taking in the sight before him. You're laid on his guest bed, your hair strewn against the pillows with your short cocktail dress riding up your thighs. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes, you wish for nothing more than to know what he’s thinking at that moment.
“Fucking hell,” He sighs and you begin to accept defeat, ���yeah, okay, yeah, I can’t act like I’m not dying here anymore, but not here.”
You feel giddy the moment you hear his words, not processing what he meant by ‘not here’ until you're being scooped up bridal style, taking you by surprise.
“Lewis, we were in a bed.” You laugh, leaning in to place soft kisses against his neck that have him faltering in his steps.
“Yeah we were, but mine is much better and if this is happening you’re staying with me for the night.” He states as calmly as he can despite the tension flowing through his body.
It's a short walk before you’re once again being placed on a bed and you have to admit he was right, his bed is much better. You whine when you feel him move away making him laugh at just how needy you are.
“Patience baby girl, gotta find a light so I can see just how amazing you look when I make you cum.” His voice is teasing but serious, making your body flood with anticipation.
Within seconds he’s flicked on a warm light, a lamp by the side of his bed, just enough so you can see him as he stands next to you finishing undoing the last few buttons of his shirt. Your mouth goes dry when he shrugs it down his shoulders and you become nervous at how you might react to seeing him fully naked. It’s not that you haven’t seen Lewis shirtless before, it’s the knowledge that now you get to touch him, you know that his skin will very soon be pressed against yours, and it's driving you insane. You reach out toward him, your hand finding the skin just above his pants before he grabs your wrist.
“What did I just say Y/N?” He says lowly as he moves over you once again, “patience.”
“Been waiting so long Lewis, I don’t have any left.” You whine, your hips bucking up towards him when he presses a kiss just below your ear.
“Mmmm,” He hums through a chuckle before his voice turns thoughtful, “how do you think i feel? Been waiting a hell of a lot longer sweet girl. I gotta savour this.”
His lips tracing your neck are teasing, just enough contact to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy the carnal need brewing inside of you. His hands feel larger than ever before as they trace over your body, groping you in spots you never knew would emit such a reaction from you. He hasn't even taken off your dress yet and he has you a whimpering mess, your hands grasping onto his bare torso. You can feel the smirk of satisfaction on his face as he kisses down your throat, his hands finally reaching for the straps of your dress.
“Do you step in or is there a zipper?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise as he pulls away for a moment.
“Huh?” You shake your head, trying your best to come out of the absolute daze he had just put you in.
“Your dress.” He clarifies, not that it helps you any.
“Yeah? What about it?” You ask again, eager to have his lips on you again and still not fully back in your brain.
He smiles, laughing lightly as he shakes his head, “Your dress, did you just step into it or is there a zipper I need to find. It’s so pretty, don’t wanna ruin it.” His hands are massaging your hips as he speaks, not doing much to help you actually process his question.
“Um, there’s a zipper on the side, why did you-” Your question is cut off by his lips on yours once again.
“I’m in fashion baby, I’m familiar.” He mumbles against your lips as his fingers find the zipper, gracefully undoing it before his hands are back at the straps of the dress. Once again he pauses, “You absolutely sure?”
“Positive Lewis, I want this so much.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice firm so he has no further need to question you and delay what you're so desperately seeking.
The moment he hears the words leave your lips he’s back in action, his hands lowering the straps of your dress and pushing it down your body. You become very aware of the fact that you chose to go without a bra for the dress when you see his wide eyes staring at your chest. You almost feel shy but the way he’s looking at you takes any hesitation away. Once he’s taken in his view, he’s leaning down, peppering kisses across your whole chest. You can’t help but moan his name at the feeling of his lips on your skin, your grip on the back of his neck tightening. You almost explode when you feel his warm mouth wrap around your sensitive bud, his thumb brushing gently, teasingly over the other. You aren’t sure how you will be able to actually take it when you get to what you are dying for. You are writhing beneath him, spurring him on with every little whimper he pulls out of you.
“God, the little sounds you make, fucking music.” He murmurs against your skin as his kisses begin to trail lower, making his way down your abdomen.
When he finally reaches your hip you think you truly lose your mind. The one and only thought you can muster is ‘Lewis’. He takes his time, kissing across your pelvic bone, moving lower and kissing down the tops of your thighs. Finally he begins his ascent back up, nibbling on your inner thighs as he does, this tongue tracing circles against your skin that you have a desperate need to feel elsewhere, somewhere he’s been neglecting so far. Finally his fingers hook into the band of your thong, a lacey one you chose specifically for tonight, hoping this would happen finally. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours for a final confirmation.
“Please.” You breath out, lifting your hips to help him remove the tiny piece of fabric.
“Fuck Y/N” He says, just as breathless as you as he takes in the sight before him. He’s looking at you with the same admiration that he had when he took your dress off.
His thumb brushes gently against your folds, enough to make you shiver and moan but not nearly enough to satisfy the desire deep in your bones. You move your hips closer to him, earning a faint chuckle but thankfully he takes the queue, parting you open for himself so he can admire the aching bundle of nerves he’s dying to pull into his mouth. He strokes against you gently, just a few flicks before his thumb is trailing down to your opening, swiping up the wetness that is pooling.
“You’re making a mess, baby.” He tells you, his voice smug.
“Well, do something about it.” You snap back at him, your brattiness coming back with full force.
“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, giving you a playful salute that makes you want to slap him.
All your annoyance however is washed away in an instant when his lips finally suction around your mound, shocking you in a way you didn't know was possible. A loud moan leaves your mouth against your will, your hands moving to grab his bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself. He groans against you, his tongue flicking in the perfect pattern, the combination sending you onto another planet.
“Oh fuck.” You squeal when he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, diving in deeper and closer than he was before.
His mouth trails down, his nose still bumping against your clit as his tongue prods at your entrance, tasting every bit of you he can. His hands are tight on your hips, keeping you in place to pleasure you exactly how he wants. You can feel your stomach tightening, it’s embarrassingly quick you fear, but then he’s slipping a finger into you, his lips latching around your nerves.
“C’mon baby, I can feel it coming, give it to me.” He mumbles against you, the vibrations going through your spine.
You moan loudly, feeling the tension in your body rise. You’re a writhing mess, no longer able to be anchored by the arm draped across your stomach with little purpose. Just when you think you’re about to hit your peak you feel a second finger slip inside you, the pair hooking in the perfect motion that makes you crumble. You’re shaking as you moan loudly, your vision becoming blurry and your ears ringing as you come undone. His fingers never stop their torment, working you through it to ride out the high. When you finally come back into yourself Lewis is kissing along your thighs and leaving soft kisses to your overly sensitive core, his tongue dipping into you every now and again with a smirk.
“That feel okay?” He asks you when he finally sees you watching him, his tone dripping with the ever cocky ego of his.
“Oh shut up.” You giggle, pushing at his head as you burrow your head into the pillow next to you.
“Hey, c’mon now, don’t try to hide from me.” His voice is much closer than it was before and when you turn your head he’s directly above you, hovering over your face with a blissful smile that makes your heart clench.
“Don’t go getting too big of an ego, I needed a good fuck.” You giggle before his lips come down to meet yours.
“Mmmm, well first of all, just so you know, you taste divine and you look immaculate when you come,” He begins, mumbling against your lips before he trails down to your neck, “second of all, you haven’t gotten the good fuck yet darling,” With that he pulls away to look you dead in the eyes, “think you can handle that? Dying to know how incredible you feel.”
Within seconds you’ve gone from content mush to a horny animal again. You don’t know how your brain let you forget about the best part, you needed to feel him.
“Yes, oh my god please.” You breathe out, bordering on begging but you couldn’t care less in the world in that moment.
Your hands begin to move blindly, trying to find his belt buckle but just fumbling with nothing as you get distracted kissing him once again. He smiles, a genuine kind smile as he pulls away from you, sitting back on his heels to undo his pants himself. There’s something about the genuine happiness on his face that makes your heart clench and your stomach flip. He doesn’t just want a quick fuck, he wants you, he’s happy that its you. It’s not the cocky grin of a man who sweet talked some chick into his bed, it’s the genuine smile of a man who finally has the girl he’s been pining over for a year in front of him and finally on the same page. You’re only left to dwell on how much this means to him, to the both of you, for a mere moment, because soon he is lowering his pants and you catch your first proper glimpse of the prominent bulge threatening to burst his boxer briefs. You can’t hide your reaction, your eyes going wide when you see the size of it. You want to slap yourself, you should have known, you should have been prepared. Not only does the man exude ‘big dick energy’ in every thing that he does and says, he is usually sporting a bulge on the day to day without being hard. He clocks your reaction, a warm chuckle reverberating through his chest.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, his voice soft, catching on to your genuine hesitation.
“Can I see it?” You ask and immediately want to take it back, you feel like a teenager afraid of seeing a dick for the first time.
He laughs softly, kicking off his pants fully before leaning down to kiss you again.
“Of course, you can see it, touch it, measure it, inspect it however you want before you decide.” His words are punctuated by kisses, carrying a teasing lilt with every one.
“Stop, it’s just, your ego obviously doesn’t need it, but it looks bigger than what I’m used to.” You whine, your voice becoming shy as you attempt to dodge his kisses in embarrassment.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” The tease has left his tone, his voice soft and serious now, “we only do whatever you can handle, okay?”
You finally look back at him, embarrassed by your shock. The beautiful brown eyes that you meet hold nothing but sincerity, helping your nerves immensely.
“We’ll go slow, yeah?” He prompts, squeezing your thigh.
You nod, wanting desperately to connect with him that intimately. It’s been a desire burning within you for so long now you can't fathom possibly backing out, you know he’ll take care of you.
“You wanna touch it first?” He asks, his voice sincere but still causing you to laugh, making him join in with you, “Hey, I’m serious, maybe it’ll help.” You can hear the seriousness in his voice behind his giggles.
“Okay, yeah, actually that might help.” You admit, your laughter finally quieting down.
When he rids himself of his boxers you almost go through the same shock again. Firstly because of just how large he is, he’s longer than anyone else you've ever seen and so girthy you’re not sure you will be able to wrap your hand around him. Secondly because there he is, naked in all his glory, his strong thighs proudly showing muscles you could never dream of having, his beautiful torso adorned with intricate images and abs that have made you drool since the first time you saw him without a shirt.Your desire for the man in front of you quickly overtakes any hesitation you’d previously had, quickly sitting up to grab him and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth as your tongue dances across his. You take all your lust and turn it into gumption, reaching down and gently brushing your hand along his cock. His grip on you tightens and an almost pained whimper leaves his mouth as you do so. You take that as a good sign, reaching in between your own legs to get your fingers wet before wrapping your hand properly around his cock, stroking him gently. A groan leaves his throat as he forcefully pulls his lips away from you.
“There’s no way you just did what I think you did, is there?” He asks you, his eyes blown out, crazed with lust and disbelief.
You just giggle, swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, leaning in again to catch his lip. He lets you stroke him for only a moment before he’s pulling away and grabbing your wrist.
“It feels amazing babe, but if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He tells you earnestly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathes heavily.
“Well I kinda thought that was the point of this whole thing.” You giggle at him, knowing exactly what he wants but enjoying getting to tease him if only for a moment.
“The point,” He begins, pushing you down to the bed by your hips so he is hovering over you again, “is that I would rather be inside you when I do.” His words are muffled against your skin as he kisses down your neck, your brain short circuiting.
“Please.” You breathe out for what feels like the hundredth time of the night.
“I got you.” He murmurs, your legs locking around his waist.
You feel his bulbous head trailing through your folds, collecting your wetness. You almost feel as if it must be a dream, there's no way you finally got this lucky. Then you feel the slightest bit of pressure at your opening, he's not even inside you yet and you gasp.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, we’ll go slow, you just keep telling me how you feel, okay?” He whispers in your ear.
You nod and the second he’s sure you want it you feel him pushing forward, the stretch stinging and feeling like too much yet also feeling absolutely perfect. He only thrusts about a quarter of the way in before he’s pausing.
“How you feelin’ baby girl?” His voice is soothing but you can hear the strain as he asks the question. You need him to keep going, the momentary pain melting into ultimate satisfaction.
“More, oh my god, please.” You moan out.
He finally continues, pushing into you with such care it makes your heart burst. The way he’s handling you makes it evident that this isn’t just a fuck for him, it’s a coupling, He cares more about being close to you and your pleasure than he does the rest of it. When you feel his pelvis meet your clit you clench every muscle in your body, feeling fuller than ever before. He lets out a deep groan, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“You let me know when I can move sweetie, but you gotta relax for me. Okay?” You can hear the tension in his voice muffled against your neck, his lips moving against your skin.
You let out a breath, working through the overwhelming feeling of being so full of the man you care so deeply about, your body finally relaxing.
“Please move Lew, I need it.” You whimper out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“That's my girl.” He says softly, his face just above yours with a soft smile as he begins to thrust.
Within moments he has found a pace that has your toes curling and your nails raking down his back. He is hitting every single spot you need him to, stretching you to the limit in the best way possible, working you to your peak in a shockingly quick manner. He’s not rough, he’s not fast, his movements are slow and languid. If he’s not staring directly into your eyes while he whispers sweet and filthy words to you, his lips are on yours as you swallow each other's moans. You’ve never been happier to have a vocal lover than Lewis, you can tell he is loving every single second, that he is overwhelmed with how good he feels. He’s not holding back a single moan, grunt, or groan and it’s only spurring on your pleasure. He sounds so good, looks so good, and feels so fucking good. You’ve never felt quite this all consumed by a man before, he is all that exists in the moment. He is leaning down on his forearms, his large biceps caging you in and it's all you can do not to lean over and bite them. His voice is in your ear when his tongue isn’t in your mouth, his heavy cock is splitting you in two with every perfectly aimed slow deliberate thrust, his pelvis is dragging across your clit giving you every ounce of pleasure you could ever need.You can already feel your toes clenching and your walls beginning to lock him in as you brace yourself in his shoulders.
“God, you feel fucking perfect, fucking made for me. My girl, all mine, huh?” His voice is rough as he talks to you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes boring into yours.
You can only nod, tears slipping down your face as even moans refuse to escape your throat.
“That’s it baby, just feel it. Taking it like such a good girl.”
The tone of his voice and the dirty words tumbling from his lips have your stomach clenching, you know you’re almost there and so does he. His slow and steady pattern speeds up every so slightly, still keeping the same intimacy but increasing the obscene pleasure running through your body as his hand snakes down to properly rub at your clit.
“Let go for me Y/N, cum all over my cock, I’m right here, I’ve got you, lemme feel it.” His voice is strained but soothing as he talks you to your release.
Within seconds you let out a guttural moan, your whole body tensing as you feel the coil snap. The only word that can leave your mouth is his name, a chant of ‘Lewis’ leaving your tongue as your mind goes blank. You can faintly feel his thrusts falter before his own groan is matching yours, his head falling to your shoulder as thick ropes of cum lace your walls. You have no idea how long it is that you lay there on his bed completely limp. You have a faint memory of the whimper that left your lips when he finally pulled out of you. You know there was a moment of panic when you saw him begin to walk away but you were so blissed out that you ended up focusing on how good his ass looked. What you don’t know is how long it’s been since he left or how long you’ve been laying there, now all you can think about is how badly you want him back next to you. You try to move to sit up but quickly realize the best you can do is prop yourself up on your elbows. As you struggle, Lewis comes back into the room, holding a wet cloth and a glass of water, a smile across his face as he takes in the sight before him.
“You’ve been gone for forever.” You whine, unaware if it's even true or not, doing your best not to admire the fact that he is still stark naked in front of you.
“I’ve been gone for maybe two minutes,” He laughs, making his way towards you, “honestly didn’t even think you would notice, you seemed pretty content off in some bliss land.”
“Hey, that’s technically your fault.” You weakly argue, falling back onto the bed.
“A fault I will happily take,” He smirks, leaning down toward you and pressing his lips against yours, “again, and again, and again, and again.” Each declaration is sealed with a kiss, making you giggle and very weakly try to push him away.
He finally moves away from his assault of kisses, placing the water on the night stand next to you and moving to part your thighs which immediately makes you protest.
“Lew, it was amazing but I can’t.” You whine, squirming away from him.
“Baby,” He laughs, trying to stay sweet but far too amused by your sex drunk mood, “I wasn’t trying anything, I swear, just wanna clean you up because I think a shower is pretty far from your reality right now.”
“Oh.” You mutter, not used to any of your partners ever taking the time to take care of you afterwards. It was usually you realizing a little while later that you had to make sure you peed at the very least.
Lewis however makes sure to take extra care with you, one hand massaging your thigh as the other wipes the warm cloth against your skin. He does smirk when he reaches your core and sees you flinch the slightest bit, but even with your reaction he stays sweet and careful, caressing you in what can only be described as a loving manner. When he’s done, he throws the cloth carelessly onto the floor, something you would have thought would drive him insane, knowing he’s a tidy control freak. Instead of worrying about it, he runs his hands up your sides, kneading at your flesh in a way that somehow feels intimate but not sexual.
“Do you want to sleep like this? Or do you want some clothes?” He asks gently, placing a kiss to your stomach that once again manages to not feel suggestive somehow.
You can feel yourself getting shy. You know the answer he wants but you really want at least a t-shirt, something about sleeping naked has always made you feel weird. You hesitate for a moment, your answer apparently written all over your face because he just smiles and places another kiss against your skin before getting up and heading towards his closet.
“T-shirt or sweatshirt?” He calls out from within the closet, not an ounce of bother in his tone.
“Sweatshirt?” You answer, unsure of yourself.
“Boxers, shorts, or sweatpants?” He calls out again, unphased by your request.
“Is boxers weird?” You ask, still unsure.
“Nope!” He says, emerging from the closet, now wearing a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, his hand full of a stack of clothing for you.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter as you sit up to take the clothing from him.
“Arms up,” He says, the sweatshirt above your head ready to dress you, making you giggle, “and why are you sorry for wanting to be comfy while you sleep?” His voice is muffled through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt that he places over your head.
“I’m sure you would have rathered, I said naked.” You admit as your head pops out the neck hole making him laugh.
“Sweetie, you’re in my bed, that’s all I need. Want you to be comfortable.” He says sincerely, a soft smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Besides I’ve always been kinda convinced that monsters will grab me if I have a foot out from under my blanket so I can’t blame you for wanting to sleep in something.”
You can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, knowing that that was one of your childhood fears yet it still follows one of the most fearless men you know.
“Alright, ya gotta scooch this beautiful bum.” His instructions come out soft with a soft pat to your ass as he slides the boxers up your legs.
Everything about the moment feels so loving and playful, it’s hard to imagine that this man that is saying bum and telling you he’s afraid of monsters under the bed was making you see stars and become delirious mere minutes ago. This was a feeling you could definitely get used to. Once you were dressed, Lewis was prying the blankets out from under you, attempting to make room for himself in the bed, laughing at your lack of movement.
“Okay, first note to self, she’s a damn bed hog.” He said playfully once you were both in the sheets, his arm wrapping around you in an attempt to pull you as close as possible.
“Hey, you can’t possibly already be making a cons list, you wore me down like three hours ago.” You argue, half serious, as he maneuvers you so you’re laying against his chest as he hikes your leg up over his hips.
“Not a cons list, just a things to remember list.” He assures you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Okay, I suppose I can live with that.” You huff playfully into his chest, your fingers tracing patterns along his pecs.
He hums in satisfaction, evidently enjoying your soft touch on his skin as you cuddle further into him.
“Hey Lewis.” You grab his attention, your voice muffled with your cheek smushed into his chest.
“Yeah baby?” His voice is tired as he massages the back of your head, his other hand tracing soothing patterns on your back underneath his stolen sweatshirt.
“We’re gonna make this work, right?” You ask him, your voice timid but needing to hear the confirmation before you can let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep.
“I’m going to do everything in my damn power Love, would never forgive myself for letting you slip away” He tells you seriously even though you can tell he’s beginning to drift off.
That’s all you needed to hear. You let yourself nestle even further into him than you thought was possible, beyond happy that you finally admitted that this was your man. Nothing could ever be perfect, and while your reservations may still have some validity, nothing was better than this beautiful man underneath you and you were prepared to fight like hell to keep him.
#lewis hamilton#lvis44#lh44#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x reader#f1 drivers#driver x reader#team lh44#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton one shot#lh44 imagine#lh44 x reader#lh#sir lewis hamilton#f1edit#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#f1#lewis hamilton angst#lewis hamilton x you
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My opinion about Arcane s2 (mostly Viktor)
I'm trying to be neutral on this, but I'm upset with what they did to Viktor.
I was wrong about their relationship with Sky (but I had hope), you can see he never really cared for her and the animators put their all into conveying that. Plus, let's say Sky represents Viktor's humanity and Viktor himself gives up on her. And it's a lot easier for him to give her up than it is for Jayce, who he's trying to show this new “world” to.
They have a lot of gay moments with Jayce, I don't know why the writers call it “family”. It's really hard to see family in that. It seems like at some point they decided to change the plot, because at the end Jayce and Viktor just disappear and no one just doesn't care what Jayce has with Mel.
The thing I didn't like the most was how they changed Ryze, that now Ryze is Viktor, the all-powerful mage. We know from the documentary that it was Ryze at one point. That would make more sense than Viktor traveling through time and constantly dooming himself to a series of miseries. But then again, they added the “all for Jayce” aspect to it.
You can see it's supposed to be a different character, right?
I really didn't like how they treated Sky because obviously she wasn't an evil manipulative core. Viktor killed her twice for his own purposes. Once by accident, the second time on purpose. Look, you add a girl who is IN LOVE with a man, make her die twice for him, and show WHY he doesn't care. It's a dirty act. Amanda said she was “proud to write Sky”, I don't know what there is to be proud of. As a woman, it was painful for me to watch. You didn't have to do that. Did you mean to say the character is gay? You don't have to humiliate women to do that.
I always hoped Viktor wouldn't have any romantic innuendos because feelings, for Herald, are a weakness. But the fact that they're indulging JayVik fans makes it look NOTHING like that. Like, I'm not a fan of this ship, but even I don't consider what they showed as brotherly feelings. Especially from Viktor's side. He is literally too concerned with Jayce's opinion.
I also think that the writers largely emphasized the clips and fights, but didn't add to the story itself. I mean Silco's deep thoughts in the first season on political topics and the theme of family in general was shown much better.
Herald is essentially non-existent. It's a character for the last two episodes who is immediately killed off because of a few words from Jayce. Viktor returns and they vaporize somewhere. I take it this is starting a recurring time loop.
They kind of tried to put in Viktor's “here he's come to the realization on his own that humanity is bad”, but they did it SO FAST and literally because of one event that it looked bad. Yeah, it's not about hexcore. VIKTOR SUPPOSEDLY CAME TO THIS ON HIS OWN. Why? Because Jayce shot him, and then Jayce helped him realize otherwise. No, really, what was that?
I also didn't like the redesign. I was hoping the mask would look different, but it looks HORRIBLE.
It's supposed to give the impression that Viktor “shut down and withdrew into himself”, they also tried to make him a “deity”, but since it only lasted 20 minutes before he went back to his normal state, it didn't make any sense… Anyway… I sympathize with everyone who loved Viktor specifically, outside jayvik ship (happy for you guys). I know they are excited, but this is not Viktor's story. You see, Viktor doesn't have his own personal story now, he's too connected to Jayce. You could say he did everything and nothing at the same time. Because he keeps running this time loop, but he's running it because of Jayce's influence.
Waiting for his updated lore to read….. idk I'll read it and forget it like a bad dream.
#viktor arcane#viktor#arcane#arcane spoilers#sky young#sky arcane#machine herald#animation is nice but not the story#I'll buy the artbook and that's it#I guess....#arcane s2
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On Rob's Good Omens sweaters...
Bluesky has some photos of Rob Wilkins wearing these two holiday sweaters:
At the first glance you go "awww, how perfect, I need those sweaters!" but then you're like "hold on a second!"
For the sake of this meta, I'm going to assume the designs are deliberate, and not just idk cheap fakes ordered from temu lol.
Let's start with stating the obvious. The red sweater has the characters' roles reversed - Crawly is sheltering Aziraphale. It's not a "book thing" either - there, Aziraphale held his own wings above himself. This is a minor detail, but Crawly's stance is also different than in the show - his legs are apart, in a position indicating strength, confidence, and protection. Meanwhile, the blue sweater has what looks like angel!Crowley sheltering a black-haired fallen angel. My first thought was that is could be Satan and this might be a hint that we're going to see Crowley's fall after all. But now I think different.
Regarding the red sweater in particular, my thoughts immediately wandered towards the multiple Edens theory and the two Crowleys theory. Just to quickly recap: discrepancies in the details on the walls of Eden have been spotted, and at one point someone from the crew mentioned that there were "many Edens" in existence (possibly testing grounds before the real one? Or several different enclosures for the first breeding pairs? We never found out). As for Crowley - many people have noticed differences in his looks throughout season 2. Most notably, his sideburns have differing length and it shifts within the same scene, e.g. the sideburns are long in the pub, but short when he leaves the pub; they are short during the "exactlys" argument, but long when Crowley snatches his sunglasses while storming out of the bookshop. Bildad the Shuhite also has two different hairstyle (one is shorter, more evenly cut and carefully combed, whereas the other is longer and a bit more "windswept"). There's also the matter of different camera filters, which is a commonly used technique to show different worlds (think Supernatural, and I think also some MCU films?), and the disappearing props.
So, taking the sweaters into consideration, could the world of Good Omens be comprised of multiple realities? The novel is one. Season 1 is another. Season 2 shows TWO (!), which are almost identical. Who knows, perhaps the Crowley with the short sideburns managed to sway Aziraphale in the Final Fifteen, or even changed his mind and hopped on the lift at the last moment? What if, presented on the sweaters are two more? On, in which it was Crawly offering shelfter to Aziraphale, and another one in which it was Aziraphale who fell (and his hair blackened in the process). Perhaps there are versions of this (sorry, couldn't resist!) in which they both fell, neither did, or they were an established couple by season 1?
It this were to prove true in the movie, it will have some pros, of course. Firstly, it would legitimise virtually all headcanons you might have (I was a little upset when s2 finale made it clear they weren't secretly a couple before). It would also boost creativity for all the reverse!Omens fic writers. And, of course, it would explain many things fans have noticed, especially about s2.
However, other than that, I don't think I like it that much. Above all, I simply dislike multiverse - I find them often too convenient narratively, while also needlessly convoluted. But aside from that, I wouldn't be happy to see that particular take in the movie. If we were getting out 6 episodes, it would be fun to watch particular scenes and increasingly go "huh?" as we spot consecutive discrepancies and minor details that don't work. And by the time it was revealed it would feel really rewarding that you have spotted the details, even if you failed to work it all out. Within mere 90 minutes… it just doesn't feel like enough time to drop enough hints, or, alternatively, the movie would be oversaturated with them. Finally, it would mean less screentime for the mercilessly truncated Aziracrow reconcilliation arc (which I am still grieving over), as instead we would receive glimpses of different universes, while still navigating the complex Second Coming plotline. Also, what would be the endgame? All the Aziraphales and Crowleys combining their forces to beat heaven and hell/the new christ/god herself? That's a bit too Marvel if you ask me, and with all my reservations about the movie, I rather trust Narrativia to offer us something much more original.
#good omens#good omens 3#good omens movie#yes I hate that we're only getting 90 minutes sue me#good omens movie theory#rob wilkins#good omens meta
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Arcane Season 2 Final Thoughts (Spoilers)
I adore this series. This series has single handedly filled a hole in my life for media that does everything I have ever wanted: hot women, complex villains, morally grey characters, dynamic and powerful worldbuilding, emotional moments that sit in my chest, animation too powerful to comprehend. I have loved and obsessed over this series for years and I am so sad to see it go. I have been introduced to the world of Runeterra and have fallen down the rabbit hole of League of Legends lore and I am so grateful to the series for introducing me to this new fandom.
That being said, I was let down by episodes 8 and 9 of season two. Episode 9 primarily. These are some thoughts I have based on my watch, but I want to make it clear that I have not rewatched in-depth just yet. These are all preliminary feelings that I had. Overall, I do not find that two poorly executed episodes tarnish the overall quality of this show, which did so much so well, but I do think that dropping the ball on these final episodes will leave a displeasing taste in my mouth about the series going forward. I know the writers were excited to move on to new areas in the world, and I’m excited to see what they do next as I am manifesting Riven in an upcoming Noxus show, but I think they lost sight of how best to wrap up what they were doing in Arcane.
Episode 7 was fantastic, no notes.
Episode 8 had many incredible moments and for the most part was fine. The ending scene with Viktor as the Twenty-One Pilots song plays was jaw-dropping!!! I have opinions on the CaitVi sex scene because I think it could have been done better, but I will write fanfiction about it and everything will be fine. No one wants my whole thesis on that skdhsgd.
I think when Jayce rallies Piltover and Zaun to fight against Viktor and Ambessa, there should have been more discussion on what Zaun gets in return for helping. I think this would have been a good moment for Sevika to get actual fucking lines and negotiate for independence as the price of Zaun’s aid. This would have made her becoming the de facto head of Zaun more explicitly understood, and would have paralleled when Jayce made the initial deal for independence with Silco in season 1.
Episode 9 was just weird. Viktor as the mage that saved Jayce as a kid? No. No that’s not what happened actually. Ekko using time travel but the time travel really not doing anything for the plot? How could you do that to my boy?? Viktor not being evil anymore by the power of homoerotic friendship? I’m sure the JayVik shippers are happy but that’s definitely not it. Maddie as a Noxus spy? Guys you killed her a second later, what was the point of that? We don’t even get an explanation as to what the fuck was up there.
In my opinion, Ambessa and Caitlyn should have had the chance to fight for real. Not when Caitlyn is injured and not with Mel assisting. A genuine duel between these two women in front of the crowd with stakes on the line (maybe Ambessa uses Vi’s life as a bargaining chip?). When Ambessa gets the upper hand and everything is about to go to shit, then Mel steps in and we get mage duel and the death of Ambessa. Followed by the realization Viktor has used this as the distraction to get inside the hex gates. Jayce and Viktor get their epic battle and Jayce kills him, with or without his own sacrifice. I think either option would have been good.
(Side note: full Machine Herald Viktor was jaw-dropping. They ate that shit up for real.)
Rather than Jinx “sacrificing herself” she could simply save Vi from Warwick and they both can mourn together the true loss of Vander. Jinx tells Vi she knows that together all they do is cause each other pain and maybe its best if they go their separate ways. They get a final sister hug and a promise to be there if the other ever needs it. Jinx leaves with Ekko (Timebomb shippers can be happy) and Vi returns to Caitlyn. We end with that beautiful speech from Caitlyn about the stories not being over and the image of everyone’s papers burning off into the sky.
Am I….gonna write an entire fix-it for the last two episodes? Oh God….I’m gonna write an entire fix-it for the last two episodes.
Alright yeah, those are my thoughts. I want to reiterate that this show means the world to me. My current WIP is shamelessly inspired by Arcane and I cannot thank this show enough for everything it has done for me. I think this is a solid 4.5/5 star series, and you can’t get everything right. I don’t blame the writer’s too much; they’re human too.
At the end of the day, this fandom will come together to do exactly what Arcane has told us to do: tell our own stories and make better futures for everyone.
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane league of lesbians#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#viktor arcane#jayce talis#sevika arcane#arcane season two#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#arcane thoughts#ekko arcane#jinx arcane
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the thing that really gets me about how bad the writing for rook in particular is is that it would take so little effort to make it better. and it would probably make the writers' jobs a lot more interesting, too. you should be able to piss off your companions. in every other dragon age, you can piss off your companions. you can piss them off so badly that they try to kill you. if you just sort of fail to impress people one way or another in da2, you can end up having to fight your best friends to the death, or have one of them peace out after prompting an invasion of your city. the ability to have conflict with your companions wasn't always handled WELL (trying to talk to cullen about mage rights in dai comes to mind, as does trying to talk to dorian about slavery beyond the one conversation), but the option was there. it seems like the only way you can piss off your companions here is by making tactical disagreements they don't like. there's no room to have a personality some of your companions find off-putting, even though there are multiple points where your companions are put off by one another. purple hawke we're so not back. and the reason can't be "well you had to be someone varric would choose," because varric's best friend was hawke and there can be very many different kinds of hawke.
you're given a fascinating backstory and it will not come up beyond occasional comments relevant to your faction. mourn watch rook why does your backstory almost never come up i would tell people that story all the time. it's like dming for a player who came up with the most rich backstory you've ever seen and then watching them ignore it every time you dangle plot hooks in front of them. bioware do you remember what you wrote. bioware u good???? the sanitization of various factions aside because that's its whole own post, it would be so easy to give a dialogue here and there where rook could show more of what sort of rook they are by letting them reflect on their backstory. it would be so easy to write aggressive answers that are actually aggressive.
i've spent enough time in editing that i've just been trying to figure out if there's any possible motivation beyond a lack of investment in their own story, or a shocking paucity of good editors in their work environment. is it because the way they designed the game necessitates that everyone be there at the end? but you can still fuck up the ending by making the wrong choices there, à la me2, and you were allowed to piss people off in me2. if you can get people killed at the end anyway, why not let the choices you made and the responses you chose matter beyond "did you do enough sidequests?"
at a certain point, it's just confusing. they know how to do this, even if they don't always do it well. the lack of any real room for agency or personality or conflict is just... odd. this is also leaving aside how easy it would have been to incorporate SOME past choices from past games per their previous work. bioware i just want to talk
#datv#dragon age: the veilguard#datv spoilers#dragon age#don't get me wrong i enjoy the game#it has fun combat and pretty colours and i enjoy what IS there of the companions#but i'm also acutely aware as i finish a second playthrough of just how bad the writing is compared to the other games#(and the other games certainly did not always have great writing in every case)#it's just so strange and hollow#i didn't notice it the first time because i was playing a very nice rook#so i noticed that the romance was a little underwhelming but that was about it#this time trying to play a cold bitchy unsettling rook i realized there is absolutely no way to do that whatsoever#this goes beyond the 'it doesn't matter what your inquisitor's personal faith is they WILL be referred to as the herald of andraste' thing#this rook essentially has the same personality as my first rook because they really only wrote one personality for rook in the end#this rook is on good terms with pretty much the whole of the team just like the last rook because so long as you do sidequests you will be#there's SOME variation depending on plot choices you make but really not that much#if you choose taash for the big construct she throws a rock#if you choose davrin for the big construct he throws a rock#if you choose emmrich for the big construct HE throws a rock#did you save minrathous or treviso? doesn't matter end battle's in the same place#there is schoolwork i desperately need to focus on this weekend but here i am preoccupied with how genuinely baffling#bioware's writing choices are#why do all this work to set things up and then decide 99% of it is irrelevant#datv critical#bioware critical
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once you open hc request again can you do doc Louis plezz
Wahey doc louis lets gooo, so sorry if these lwk suck I got major writers+art block and my creativity has just disappeared 😭 also i was tired when I made this so if you see any mistakes then IM SOSOOS SORRY!! anyway uh i hope u enjoy my....
☆Doc louis head canons!!☆
Owns a small boxing gym that he opened after he retired from professional boxing.
Also spends most of his time there its like a second home for him, he even sleeps there sometimes.
I dont think he would be in a relationship with anyone, I like to think that because he was focused on his boxing career he could never find the time for that kinda stuff.
Theres a bunch of old commercials with doc when he was in his prime. He is a little embarrased about them because the humor is outdated and cheesy.
Hates the one where he had to sing about chocolate flavoured milk. He only did it because he thought he would get the brand's chocolate milk free for life (spoiler he didnt😔).
I headcanon that he got into boxing because he used to see the matches with his dad as a kid and it inspired him
Hides his chocolate bars in the most obscure places so people dont go eating them (mac...also hippo, dont think you can sneak out of this one.), he also keeps one on him at all times.
Speaking of Mac, Doc see's himself as a farther figure for him and sees himself in Mac. (father and son duo frfr) studied all the boxers move sets so he could teach Mac better.
Before Mac came along, he used to go and watch a couple of matches and reminisce about old times.
Still has unresolved beef with some of his 'enemies' he made during his time with the W.B.V.A, sends hate paragraphs via fax machine whenever he is bored.
He literally can say anything and it will sound like an inspirational quote. Like imagine one of those silly inspirational facebook posts and its just "whats your favourite flower... Mines chocolate🤤"
Mainly listens to a mix of blues jazz and 80s hip hop, but is open to listening to other genres as well.
One time tried to show Mac his old bboy skills but straight up just collapsed in on himself on the floor.
Instead of reaching for the bottle after a hard day he will treat himself to a chocolate cake.
Doc first invented the star punch as an emergency move he would pull out from when all seemed lost. The version Mac was taught was a refined and changed version which better suited the new generation of boxing.
☆ *:..。o♬**:..。o♬**:..。o♬**:..。o♬**:..。o♬*゚ ☆
Okok thats all!! I really wanted to do smth with the star punch, this headcanon is probably just a lil idea i will work on😭😭 I hoped you enjoyed!!!
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WOOO HERE WE GO!! REACTIONS TO THE LAST EPISODE!!! SPOILERS!!!
^ i feel like i'm gonna laugh at that later.
oh my god the stop motion is gorgeous
jinx why are you doing that
JINX
SILCO'S CHAIR??? THE LAST DROP???
JINX NO DON'T KILL YOURSELF. OH MY GOD THAT'S THE SAME WAY SHE KILLED MILO AND CLAGGOR. I'M UNWELL
EKKO!!! BOY SAVIOUR DEAREST!!! BEST BOY!!!
HSJAHHAA THE WAY EKKO KEEPS CANCELLING JINX SETTING OFF THE BOMB THING
"always a dance with you" after he just danced with her in an alternate timeline :((
and her hair is short like there too now :((
"see if i can talk an old friend out of blowing us up" when she already blew them both up in season 1 during the bridge fight. oh the parallels. arcane you make me sick
watching the intro again, blind, for the last time ever. not skipping this time out of respect. as it plays, let me just say that suicidal jinx is written so beautifully and so accurately i am actually worried about the arcane writers. especially with the "please let me go" lyric playing right before the intro, when ekko is trying to make jinx not kill herself (and him)
aftercare ❌ planning a fight that starts a war ✅
anyway in season 1 the writers used a deez nuts joke, so i am choosing to believe that whatever is going on with the vi pov flashes is their take on the "subtle foreshadowing" trend. i will die on this hill
oh my god the parallel between vi freezing up when she sees blue hair under the enforcer's helmet and jinx freezing up in season 1 when one of the firelights was a girl with short pink hair. arcane writers i will have your heads on SIGHT.
on another note, this show is honestly one of parallels. by that logic i am declaring my last prediction, five minutes into the last episode; the season will end either with an explosion or with a fight on the bridge. i'm thinking explosion
naurr ambessa what the fuck that was NASTY
not the noxians sniping the sniper.. foul.
is that warwick???
LORIS NO
maddie is so cute you guys i can't even lie i get why caitlyn went for her
poor vi man she always gets more trauma
HELL YEAH BLUE ENFORCER GUY
IT DID NOT JUST GET JAMMED. WITH A FUCKING SCREW. WHY NOT COVER SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART UP???
boss music playing when ambessa shows up was not on my bingo
THE MADDIE BETRAYAL OH MY GOD. I MEAN I SAW IT COMING BUT IT'S SO GOOD. MAYBE THAT'S WHY IT'S SO GOOD. OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS GODDAMN SHOW.
anyway as i was saying boss music playing when ambessa shows up was not on my bingo card but it definitely should've been. that got a cackle out of me
did ambessa just say the professional version of "i told you so". that's what vi told caitlyn to tell her. now caitlyn is being told that
HOLY SHIT FUCK YEAH CAHOLY SHIT NO CAITLYN DON'T GET STABBED
yeah bitch doesn't feel so good to get hurt near your hip and be left whimpering now does it. this is how vi felt you ASSHOLE
HAAA NOT MADDIE GETTING SHOT BY HER OWN BULLET. ICONIC
MEL MEDARDA FUCK YEAH
why is humming intensifying OH FUCK YEAH JINX HELL YEAH THIS IS SO ICONIC JINX I LOVE YOU
HELL YEAH ZAUNITES!!!
the parallel between us being shown jinx fighting the firelights on a ship in season one. and now jinx is on a ship fighting WITH the firelights. parallels will be my undoing.
mel is iconic that's all i have to say
the hexcore is HOLLOW???
oh Wish!jesus how did you sneak in
EHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU
OH MY GOD THOSE CREATURE THINGS ARE TERRIFYING
SEVIKA NO DON'T TURN TO JESUS
HAAA THE BITCH SLAP
THE JESUS CREATURES ARE SO SCARY
NO DON'T KILL VI. DO NOT KILL VI.
OH MY GOD WARWICK LEAVE JINX ALONE
OH MY GOD EKKO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SAVING VI
AND THEN VI SAVES JINX. THIS IS THE GOLDEN TRIO I DON'T CARE
"choice is false" fuck you too viktor. i CHOOSE that you are a fuckwad
ambessa trying to stab caitlyn in the eye, jinx stabbing silco in the eye (with that needle). parallels
not caitlyn ending the fight with the blade that was INSIDE OF HER THIGH
"a wolf has no mercy" may be the most satisfying callback i have ever seen
...eh? mel sent ambessa to black rose but then took her back out?
"you are the wolf" do not make me cry. this is like "you're perfect" (silco to jinx) but with more context and layers and oh my god i'm gonna be SICK.
viktor you are NOT about to force corrupt jayce.
"i'm always with you" // "you were always with me; whispers on the street, hairs on the back of my neck" arcane writers i LOATHE you and that's a compliment
warwick leave my girls alone.
"dad?" i'm gonna CRY.
the way jinx just starts shooting again with no clear target. girl please remember what happened to silco
jinx + vi vs. vander and viktor vs. jayce was something i NEVER saw coming before i started watching season 2. i also did not expect to see it happen IN THE SAME SPACE.
the jesus follower creatures: *cutely tilts head at jayce*
oh my god viktor corrupted all my favourite girls. ekko do not get corrupted please i am begging
jayce is conscious within the jesus verse?
WOOO BOY SAVIOUR!!!
NOOO EKKO
YAAAYYY EKKO
NOOO EKKO
ekko how far did you just rewind
"that device can't be" ok and? yet it is still
viktor is losing jesusness? "losing my faith" moment?
"all i want is my partner back" jayce i WILL cry.
VIKTOR IS THE MAGE MAN IN THE HOOD THAT SAVED JAYCE'S MOM CONFIRMED!!! MY LONGEST THEORY HELL YEAH!!!
"in all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can show me this." you might as well have written him a love song, viktor.
viktor pushing jayce away like vi and caitlyn pushed each other away in the intro.
oh the art is so hauntingly majestic.
sorry did jayce just DIE.
holy shit it's raining bodies!!!
no i'm on jinx's side VI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING
OH MY GOD WARWICK WHAT THE FUCK
poor jinx is being traumatised
OH MY GOD THEY'RE ALL DYING. IT'S BODIES BODIES BODIES UP IN HERE
"always with you, sis," i already talked about the always with x parallels but i think my heart just shattered into a million pieces and then got stomped on over and over again and the pieces were reassembled to spell out "FUCK YOU ARCANE VIEWERS" because WHAT THE FUCK ARCANE WRITERS WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK FUCK YOU YOU FUCKS??? WHAT THE FUCK???
oh my god that's jayce's mom right there :(
sevika is a councilor now oh my god i have so many thoughts
singed's daughter is alive??
fuck you black crow
omg is noxus mel's now
is vi okay???
vi!!! NO YOU ARE NOT SINGING THAT SONG.FUXJ YOU ARCANE WRITERS I'M GONNA SOB
(the series ending with the same song it started with being hummed. FILTHY. perfect circle, perfect parallel, i should've seen it coming, i didn't. i am ILL.)
vi resting her head on vi's shoulder after powder did the same with ekko in an alternate timeline. FOUL.
okay the episode just ended and i have absolutely nothing to say. this was. an experience. i am traumatised. what the fuck. this was beautiful.
30 minutes until arcane season 2 act 3!! i am not okay
predictions/bingo:
mel dies and/or loses autonomy (gets corrupted by black rose)
that golden thing on mel's back is magic
jinx starts doing shit again to honour isha
ambessa learns about communication & being truthful (but it's too late)
viktor lives (somehow)
warwick lives (somehow x2 maybe singed will save him?)
ONE (1) silly moment between vi and jinx. please just this crumb man arcane writers please
caitvi stick together again?
caitvi FUCKS (the buildup???)
uhhh what other characters exist
it'll be explained more thoroughly why jayce killed his boyfriend jesus
what other characters exist???
EKKO will reappear and save the day. boy saviour my beloved <333 i swear i have never seen a single hate comment on ekko he's so precious we all just universally love him
ekko will do something problematic (just because the writers like spiting us and we've all been on his side all this time)
ekko time power thing upgrade
jesus!viktor is the magic man in jayce's memory or something (you can't deny the similarities idc)
i have no clue what'll happen to heimerdinger so I'll just say he dies
lol i'm looking through the arcane wiki character list and basically everyone is dead fuck you arcane writers
sevika gets +1 arm again?? pls dude that poor woman
piltover + zaun vs noxus/black rose?
why is the hexcore listed as a character.
jayce mom returns and goes "son wtf have you done why did you kill a ma— a jesus??"
ekko's tree dies. i'm sorry buddy i don't see it living. unless ekko uses his new time power to reverse the damage or something but i don't think that's how it works
something happens with caitvi and they never see each other again
act 3 breaks my heart
act 3 makes me want to never draw and write ever again but simultaneously makes me want to make so much art
i will need therapy after act 3
YOU will need therapy after act 3
^ that will be all of us, everyone who watches arcane act 3
okay i think that was all. nine minutes left. may the lord (viktor, and also the writers) have mercy on us. lighting a candle and surrounding it with crystals for good luck. i have 4 earrings in and they all have moonstone. pls jesus (viktor, and the writers) go easy on us
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2.03 | 3.01
#legaciesedit#legacies#landon kirby#rafael waithe#hope mikaelson#landon x rafael#landon x hope#landonkirbyedit#handon#handonedit#alaric saltzman#2x03#3x01#legacies parallels#legacies gifs#my edit#my gifs#addys-beth#landon needing his family#i'm emotional#and i was expected to believe#that landon could ever be okay or have a happy ending without them#it's literally stated that he needs them#and he was drowning himself when he was without them#did the writers even watch their own show??
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series 3 is so frustrating because there is like a shining core of pure diamond underneath the problems . like conceptually it rocks so incredibly hard. but the problems
#dr who#i am being so honest when i say ten should have gotten on his knees and begged for simm!master's life#they should have framed the bit between him and martha's mom so different#like yes it is 10000% in character that the doctor with his bleeding heart and loneliness wouldn't want to kill him#even after everything that happened. because he's the only person he has left. 'i forgive you' was PERFECT.#but literally anyone else that suffered from what the master did. Deserves to rip him to shreds. so very obviously#and like i know.i KNOW that i am watching the 'funny immortal alien saves people through time and space' show#but i actually despise the doctor being framed as like an all powerful savior. or treated like one. even for a little bit. is Annoying#the first part of the series 3 finale having martha be humanity's last hope was SO GOOD bc it like kind of set her up as like#having to grapple with all that responsibility and attention like the doctor does. everyone's lives are in her hands. so crunchy#but when it like slides into 'everyone pls believe in our specialest boy in the world The Doctor <3' it just. falls flat#i feel like with a couple tweaks here and there in the execution and like actual fuckinnn people of color in the writer's room#series 3 would be PEAK media. but as it is it's just. falling short.#i do really appreciate martha deciding to leave ten on her own though. first of all. qpp down. second of all#she's realized that she can't keep traveling with him. bc (as i mentioned) hes someone who simultaneously needs saving#and refuses to be saved in the ways that matter. Yes im fucking ignoring the unrequited romance angle i think#it does a gigantic disservice to martha's character if u boil her down to that. fight me i dont care if that was the authorial intent#martha in the end is too kind to ten and ten keeps making her watch his meandering path of self destruction. toxic doomed qprism to ME.#anyway fuck. idk man series 2 consensus was that im dead inside and series 3 consensus is that the version i have of it in my head is peak#series 2 is better but i think because of my ten martha insanity i actually enjoyed watching series 3 more than series 2.#even if i got mad at it more than any other season. i think something is wrong with me. um. lmao#ten and martha#10 era
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every day I wish I started moffat's run without looking online first and absorbing all the hate he gets bc I do not know what is my opinion that I would've came to on my own and what I've simply seen others say that stuck with me and clouded my perception going in
#ofc I'm sure that for the most part my opinions are still my own#but I'll admit that I'm easily influenced so part of me wonders#because I know as much as I hate it I definitely went into his run skeptical and wary and hostile#mostly I seriously wonder what I would've picked up on my own#I'm not very media literate. like. at all#I like to pretend I am but I'm really REALLY not... it's just not how I engage with things#so I wonder if I would've liked it more if I was able to turn off my brain and just watch like how I did with rtd's run#(tho in all honesty? I like moffat's run overall more than I do rtd's. I never rewatch s3-4 nor like half of s2 I just don't enjoy them)#(even if yes I agree wholeheartedly rtd is such a better character writer...#but then again would I have come to that conclusion on my own? or am I parroting?)#mind you I don't hate moffat's run as much as I like to dog on it#in fact s8-10 are my favorites of the whole show other than s1#but still...#and I've done it again with chibnall! I have seen NOTHING but only heard bad things and as excited as I am I'm... wary. and skeptical.#it sucks#doctor who
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@the-marron tagged me!! Thankssss <333
Currently watching:
Granting you a dreamlike life
L.O.R.D. Critical World
Tientsin Mystic
Extraordinary attorney Woo
And that is honestly too much plot for my brain to keep track of at the same time already xD Technically Mystic Nine should be on this list bc I still have to finish the last 5 episodes but it’s been so long by now that I can’t really count it as sth i’m actively watching anymore :(((
Currently rewatching:
The Uncanny Counter
I don’t usually do much structural rewatching from beginning to end. So this is currently the only thing on the list. But I occasionally like to rewatch an episode of Reboot or Guardian or the Rebel.
Looking forward to:
So many things! So just a few of the highest priority shows on the list:
Detective L
The long night
Nirvana in fire
Lost in the Kunlun mountains
My true friend
If movies are also allowed then of course I can’t wait to see Lost in the stars when it finally officially comes out. And marron already knows that i’m still looking for a good opportunity to watch 1921. Which has to be a moment i’m alone in the house and can commandeer the tv for 2 hours, bc my mom is annoying enough when I’m watching anything else in her presence. I don’t really feel like fielding questions about this one xD
Tagging: @pangzi @omaenanimonoda @programmedradly @lunarriviera @lucientelrunya @scaredysap @cuterocks @psychic-waffles @mjsakurea @stupid-lemon-eater @phantomhydeoftheopera @elenothar @baiyubai if you want to :D
#it’s impossible to really enjoy a tv show or movie when my mom is there#bc she used to be a theatre writer and director so if there is anything that even slightly doesn’t meet her writing or directing tastes#i will hear about it and i will be able to physically feel her disappointment#i try to avoid watching anything when she’s there but it’s not always possible#and sometimes i will show her things on purpose#(like lighting up the stars and embrace again - which she both enjoyed)#(she did say about rsds though that long-ge ‘is less convincing as bad boy than as good dad’)#(which i decided for the sake of my own health not to argue against)#my mom has /opinions/ about acting and writing and she /will/ make them known#that’s it for my tag rant#tagged
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#The Meg is literally such a bad movie#this feels like one of those movies there deliberately bad.#must have been fun to write though. a bunch of writers going “oh my god imagine” and then deliberately adding awful tropes#watching it hurts though#as long as they don't invalidate and damsel the woman like fast and furious always does I won't complain too much#nvm they immediately damsel her#also. what's up with insisting showing Jason Statham's feet#Also. there's absolutely zero line safety on that stupid boat.#they did a fun job with the kid though. she has a lot of fun lines and says them pretty well#the amount of times they're suddenly accelerated a boat and either have or have almost lost someone#like. bro you accelerate suddenly and nobody is strapped in or anything. but dumb#wait nvm she didn't really get damseled and she's got a good ability to stand up on her own. and he's not as awful as Vin Deisel usually is#boooo. heroic self sacrifice is boring as hell#he won't really die of course. probably#he didn't even sort of maybe die. eh.#honestly? charming. would be fun to watch with a friend.
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MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!
Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.
So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …
So What did I do
I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).
During the Day
https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV
https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT
During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!
Overnight
https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH
https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1
What I Manifested
- Master shifting abilities
- Master void state abilities
- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven
- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.
I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.
I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.
My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!
I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖
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This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?
So... أخي, Akhi, Brother.
It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...
Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.
Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.
The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)
Now, with the fun part.
See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.
Yakhoi يَخوي (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.
Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.
And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.
The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.
It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.
I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.
Now to Damian.
Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.
But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.
He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.
If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.
Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.
Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.
(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)
-
Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.
If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.
Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D
#damian wayne#robin#batman#bruce wayne#talia al ghul#batfamily#dc comics#damian#batman comics#batman fanfics#batman fics#batman content#now I wonder if native English speakers feel the same when they hear me talk lol
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Flirting with the FBI
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
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